"Doors Led To Your Nightmares" (Original Short Story)

Chapter twelve

Alison's heart was pumping fast. Gabe and Tiger's were too. They were the only ones left.

"Finale time!" Bullet yelled, shaking his hands. Embers had a girl with her, long brown hair swirled at her shoulders, fearful brown eyes stared at the other subjects.

"Ali?" Alison yelled. "You—"

Embers stabbed the girl in the throat, with the pastel yellow tip of the arrow, her neck bleeding out everywhere, the girl's brown eyes spilling with tears. She pushed the now-dead girl to the floor. The arrow tip was covered in blood.

Bullet signaled them to step out, and Embers and Bruce did.

Now it was just the other kids and him.

Bullet smirked and walked over to the three. He crouched down, his hat tipping a little.

"Which one of you goes next?" Bullet whispered, dragging the knife along the gray tile. "Hm?"

"You killed Ali..." Alison said. "She was my friend! You locked her in here too?!"

"I..." Bullet forced the knife into Gabe's stomach, and Alison watched in terror her friend dying. The man's eyes widened with hunger, making the blue pop out almost. "didn't do anything." He licked his lips.

"Gabe..." Gabriel's body was on the floor now, his heavy weight looking like a dumpling, but flat. Blood circled around him from his belly.

Tiger muttered. "You id—" Bullet sliced their throat. Gushing, fat, sticky globs of blood came pouring out of Tiger's neck, the cut getting bigger and more blood coming out.

Alison looked away just as her friend plopped to the floor. She was crying. "Stop! Why're you doing this...?"

Bullet laughed and cleaned the bloody knife off with his shirt, his shirt getting bloodstained, seeing Alison tearful. He stood up and paced around for a moment, his shoes clapping.

"It's not me who've killed your friends, darling," he said, twiddling the knife around at his hands.

"Are you kidding? You literally just killed my friends. I— I watched you... You stabbed—"

"You have an incredible imagination, Alison," Bullet said. "But don't take it for granted." He crouched down to her, his eyes wild.

Alison, with confused and lost eyes, staring back, the chains on her ankle squeezing, shooting up pain. "What?"

"Now," He chuckled, looking at her sideways. "Don't get me wrong here, you can create horrifying stories with gruesome things sometimes, I admit."

"Wha— What are you saying?" Alison's mouth went dry as he was so close to her, almost up to her face, cornering her almost.

"I almost made you think you were worthless, were 'nothing to live for' you had said."

"What? No," Alison denied. "You did."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Bullet sighed. "Wanna know the real reason I brought you here, all your friends, what the, 'Three Door Curse' really... is?" He lifted an eyebrow. "I killed your friends, for fuck's sake, darling. Ha! Or rather, you did..."

"What are you talking about?!" Alison blurted. "I would—"

"You made me up, girl. You made all of us up," he whispered. "All of"—He spread his arms out, looking around—"this up. This whole entire fucking house. My girlfriend up."

Alison shook her head.

"Yes. I'm not even real and you know that. Don't deny it. Your friends' blood is on this floor, and it's all your fault. You made me up,"

Alison couldn't say anything she was so shocked.

Bullet chuckled while his hair waved.

"You're a monster."

"Wanna know the truth, girl? The real stuff?" He went up to her face now, nose-to-nose, mouth grinning. "You're alone. That's your real fear. The things you said on the day that that teacher brought up; you lied. I know. Maybe some of it was half-true, but—"

"No I didn't—!"

"Don't interrupt me!" he yelled. "You're alone. You have no one to tell your creativity to. Being alone is your fear, and you're already living it. Creating stories where you're the one being killed. Being alone is your worst fear."

"Then... why did you try to kill me if I made all of this up? I was killing my..."

"Because... You like to imagine killers, villains, of your stories, and make you the victim of them for some reason. Why? I don't know." Bullet stood up. He grabbed his gun off the floor he threw to the corner earlier. The four gold-rusted bullets were still there. "Maybe you really are the villain in your own way...," He slapped the black handgun in his palm. "of your own story." He chuckled. "This whole story you created in your tiny mind, doesn't even make sense. I mean, what? Your teacher not fucking knowing that your friend has been fucking missing for a month?! Pathetic. And don't get me started on the 'clickthislink' shit. I mean, it's not possible. This was all made up by you, by your shitty brain. It is a dream you are having, girl! It's doors led to your nightmares, don't you see? The Three Door Curse all connects to your one and final fear."

Alison backed up. "What are you talking about?" She swallowed.

Bullet groaned, stomping his feet like a child, throwing his head back. "Oh my god!" he groaned, sighing a deep heavy one, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He rolled his eyes. "Worthless, I swear." He sighed. "You killed your friends, symbolizing that you're too scared that you might trip over them, get in their way, and they'll eventually leave you. Just like your childhood friend did. But you like that spice of drama, hm?" His eyes narrowed as he grinned wide. "Isn't that riiiiiight?" Bullet looked at her with amusement.

Alison was crying now, barely being able to speak. "I... I don't know what you mean, sir." Deep down she knew it was true.

"Look," Bullet said, crouching down again, putting a hand on her knee. She flinched. "All I'm saying, is I want you to know to never come to negativity of your dreams; of your creativity. I'm just a figment of your imagination, of course. I'm gonna kill you, but I hope you take away this when you wake up; Let your creativity flow like blood trickling down your arm, and don't take it for granted, any of it... Ever. And, you're not alone, no one is really. You still have you, after all. I wasn't inside your friends' minds, only yours. You were just inside your own head this whole entire time, making this story up. But isn't that what authors do, and are, basically?" He winked, smiling, the knob on his tooth glittering.

"'Wake up'? I... What..."

Bullet smirked, stood up from his knees as before, held the gun down to Alison, and, sighing, his smirk turn into a frown, shot Alison in the chest. Blood poured out of her: hideous, dark red, gloppy, and sticky as the rest, ran out, now covering all of her pink shirt. She gasped. "You did it to yourself." he whispered. He looked down at the blood from the kids' that were dead.

As the pain came quick, Alison was already gone, eyes blackened, body on the cold floor; dead, but not dead in reality. Her own blood pooled her, and her now-dead friends... disappeared from view.

And Bullet, with a smirk one last time, tipping his hat, grinned devil-like.

*