"Damn it legs, go faster!"
It was a phrase Holden uttered again and again, racing through the darkness in pursuit of the cryptid. He could hear it just moments before, shifting through the vents in the ceiling, passing through the maze of halls. There was no conceivable way to track it accurately, and time was running out fast.
"I can't sense its intent, how is that fair?! It shouldn't be able to suppress itself like this, I was told that in no uncertain terms... What am I supposed to do, fling myself in some random direction and hope it works? I may as well be looking for a needle in a haystack."
Like he thought, his search was fruitless. The endless possibilities of hiding spots meshed with the short timespan allotted, rendering all hope null and void.
"It's like this whole thing is rigged against me. Of course it would be, the house always wins... It's dragged me into its turf. And right now I'm operating by its rules."
His footsteps slapped against the marble floor. He veered his head upward, gazing towards the ceiling. Holden considered that perhaps the footprints it left behind would lead him in its direction. This idea fell flat, though, as the very footsteps in question did exist, albeit in the most unhelpful way imaginable. The markings and their trajectory spread out omnidirectionally, implying no discernable destination.
"T-t-time is up, PLAYMATE," shrieked the creature, its high-pitched squeal vibrating the pathway.
"Shit!" It was all Holden could get off before the entity clamored his way, its undeniable speed allowing it to appear before him within a matter of seconds.
"Too late, TOO LATE! You l-lose again, you didn't f-f-find me! Now I take, take what's MINE, p-p-p-p-PLAYMATE!"
With madness in its eyes, the giddy creature laughed hysterically, the sound distorted by scratchy cracks in its voice. Again, the searing sensation afflicted Holden's remaining arm, making him cry out in pain. He crashed against the wall, head thrown back as unrelenting suffering defined itself within him. His eyes watered, tears trickling down his face and stinging his cheeks. Not daring to look down, he knew what had become of his arm. It shared the same fate as its brother, the skin ripped from its place to be substituted for a smooth, glossy surface instead.
"Keep up, keep up! I'll t-take everything-from you! All your flesh, your blood and b-b-bone, your life! Everything, everything, everything! Try and find me, f-f-find me if you can!"
The thing cackled wildly and flew past Holden, heading in the opposite direction. Holden looked upon his two arms, now entirely corrupted and useless. His long black hair messily draped over his shoulders, many strands clinging to his face due to the sweat he emitted. Eyes glued to the ceiling, shallow pants crawled through his slightly parted lips. On one hand, he felt grateful for the shock that somewhat dulled the pain. On the other hand, he understood it to symbolize the dire nature of everything.
"Should I call for her... Will she even hear me? No, probably not. She... Did she send me to die? Was that it? Was that why she told me to come in such a vulnerable, pitiful state? Why did I listen to her... I'm such a damn fool. Should've trusted myself instead, should've never even come. How the hell is this worth it? How does getting killed like a dog bring me any closer to... to... damn it. What the fuck is the point? Moving is torture, part of me wants this to end. I'm not scared, damn it! I'm... sick of this.
He closed his eyes, his body unable to stop shaking. With every second that passed, the gravity of his fate began to set in more. Was this it? What is one even meant to do in the face of their own mortality? Accept it, or reject it? Could a satisfying conclusion truly be reached in mere moments?
"Sixty seconds... that's how long each round lasted. One minute to find some shitty doll hiding somewhere in a hospital building. How is that even possible? There's not a chance... hell, I bet even that thing couldn't find someone hiding in here if it were only given a minute. Just my luck to be made the seeker..."
Fifteen seconds had passed. Forty-five remained before Holden Cauthwell's assured destruction.
"It's already ruined my arms. If it does the same to my head, I die. If it does it to my legs, my mobility goes away. Either way, I'm dead. And the fact that it can suppress its own intentions... that's ridiculous. I guess it makes sense. If it couldn't do so, I would be able to track it. Unless of course... unless it isn't the one removing my ability to sense it. As far as I was told, nobody can do that. Maybe... maybe it's not doing that. Maybe the rules of the game are. Melony did say that these rituals could contain unfavorable loopholes. Maybe that's it. The rules it enforces are responsible for my inability to track it, not the cryptid itself..."
Thirty seconds had passed. Thirty remain before Holden Cauthwell's assured destruction.
"It'll be back soon, it'll come to me and finish me off. Is that right? Yeah, it is. Well, shit. If that's the case, then I may as well...
Forty-five seconds had passed. Fifteen remain before Holden Cauthwell's assured destruction.
"Suppose this is it. No use trying to play by its rules anymore. There really is no point to it..."
Sixty seconds had passed. None remained before Holden Cauthwell's assured destruction.
"T-TIME IS UP! TIME'S UP, TIME'S UP, P-PLAYMATE. I'M COMING FOR YOU!"
The creature burst forth, rapidly emerging from the darkness. Its many appendages dragged along the ceiling, pushing it ahead. A delighted, crooked smile pushed the boundaries of its face, clearly displaying its attitude on the situation. In its mind, victory was achieved. The predator had triumphed over the prey, the delectable taste of success coating its tongue like honey.
"I win, I win! You are... you are g-going to be my p-p-plaything forever! For e-e-eternity! My toy! MINE TO TRIFLE WITH!"
Then, it stopped. Its grin vanished as it realized that, inexplicably, Holden was nowhere to be found.
"H-Hey! Come out! Y-You lost, plaything! Y-You lost your flesh... your meat... It's mine! Come out!"
...
Silence.
"I SAID... I S-SAID COME. WHERE ARE YOU, PLAYTHING? I D-DEMAND... YOU COME OUT! PLAYTHING... COME HERE."
...
Nothing.
Releasing an unholy scream, the being started to rampage through the area, tearing apart every wall and desk in view. It struck and smashed the chairs, scrambled the IV units, all in a showcase of raw fury.
"Y-YOU'RE CHEATING, PLAYTHING. WHERE ARE YOU!? I S-S-SAID, REVEAL YOURSELF. REVEAL THAT T-T-TENDER SKIN... LET ME TAKE IT. TAKE IT, TAKE IT, TAKE IT. I WANT TO TAKE IT. I WANT IT. GIVE IT, NOW!"
As much as the entity's awful din continued, the vacuum of silence would once again cave in on the area. The cryptid's eyes grew into saucers, realizing with horror what was happening. It started to claw and bang its body against the floor in agony while the vinyl on its face chipped away, blood releasing from within its head.
"IT HURTS, IT HURTS, PLAYTHING! YOU'RE SO CRUEL. S-S-SO WITHOUT MERCY. W-WHY?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? I JUST... J-JUST WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU! THAT'S ALL..."
More and more, its glossy surface peeled away. Warm muscle tissue started to surface in replacement of the former material. Its volatile, shrill cries never ceased, continuing even while it twitched in a messy pile, sprawled across the floor like a dead body. That's when it sensed it. The intent, the reason, the implicit but clear emotion that rushed forth. Out from the shadows stepped Holden, his doll-like arms dangling while he trudged forward.
"You never gave me a fair shot, did you? This was never a real game... just a means for you to kill me. Very clever... I can appreciate something as gross as you being able to think. You're a smart animal, you know that?
The cryptid began to crawl away, slithering a few feet back at a time as it clutched its newly formed face.
"Hurts, doesn't it? That burning sensation, that feeling like you're going to die. It makes you feel alive, that torture is proof that you're real, that you're breathing. That's the cruelty of it. To make you reach that peak, only for the coin to flip and remind you that your end is near. You're a nasty bastard, you know that?"
"P-please... I just wanted... w-wanted to play."
"I want to thank you, actually. For giving me that despair. Allowing me to experience that fever. That burning pain... Its heat melted away my confusion and gave me clarity. Clarity as a product of my realization that I wanted to live. It was something I'd always known, but it was never quite tested. Not until tonight. And you... you gifted me that."
"W...What did I do... W-What did I do wrong, plaything... to deserve... it hurts, it hurts, it hurts..."
"You're pretty damn good at hide and seek. You chose the perfect environment, one where there are so many places to go, that a seeker wouldn't have a chance. Not to mention how neither the hider nor the seeker could sense each other. But you knew that as well, didn't you? That if you made me the hider, you'd never stand a chance. Most would leave it at that, accept that the odds are that way. Accept that and move on. Not you... you got creative, didn't you?"
"P-Plaything... l-leave me a-alone... you c-c-cheated...," spoke the creature, tears formulating around its eyes.
"The best players in a game are the ones who shift the odds in their favor prior to the game commencing. Is it cheating? Maybe. But I won't deny its efficacy. In a game where the seeker faces almost impossible odds, what role should you play if you want the best chance at winning? The hider, right? Nah... not the hider. You'd still choose to be the seeker."
The lights in the room began to flicker, all the while Holden's malice became more and more overbearing, embedding itself into the building itself like a plague.
"The only thing more advantageous than being a hider... Is being a seeker who convinces the hider that he doesn't need to conceal himself."
Holden slowly put one foot in front of the other, steadily approaching the creature. The lights, now strobing, would be intense enough to blind anyone so foolish as to peer inside the room. The entity screeched, covering its now bleeding eyes with its hands.
"I was never the seeker, was I? Sure, you told me I was. Told me to find you. You even ran off and hid somewhere for a while, playing the part. But even with all that, you were always the one seeking. And seeing how you are now, on the ground and bleeding, shivering in fear..."
Holden now stood over the being, looking down upon it with a blank stare. His arms, both enveloped in plastic, began to chip and peel once more. As the vinyl substance fell, it made way for something new. He was again granted his original form, his limbs regrowing their flesh.
"You really should have been the hider instead."
With supreme efficiency, Holden reached forth with both arms, smashing his fists into the cryptid's nose. Left, right, left, right, the force he applied proved insurmountable. Red gushed from every orifice in its face, coating Holden's knuckles. It screamed and screamed, trying to wriggle free. This action only resulted in Holden stomping his foot down onto its chest, holding it firmly in place. He palmed the thing's head, lifting it up with newfound strength and slamming it straight into the wall. With a vile cry of despair, it attempted to bolt away and cling to the wall, carrying itself towards a vent cover. It grasped the grate, trying to stuff itself within the vent and escape. No amount of planning or desperation, however, could prepare it as it felt Holden's arms grasp its various legs and rip it down from the ceiling. Piece by piece, Holden, grabbed every arm and leg attached to the creature and brutally tore it off.
No longer did Holden speak. His expression had morphed into something more terrifying than the sadistic facial displays the cryptid had produced. Complete neutrality. A dispassionate look that contradicted the murderous intent that exuded from him. The cryptid could no longer comment on its situation. It could only cry as Holden's fingers jammed into its eyes, sinking deeply into its skull. With a firm yank, he tore its head from its shoulders. Then, throwing the head to the ground, he began to relentlessly stomp into its skull until all that remained of the being was a mushy pile of red and pink.
Inspecting the blood on his fingers, Holden wiped his hands on his shirt. From behind him, the sound of clapping erupted. He turned, seeing Melony behind him, seemingly appearing from nowhere.
"Bravo, kiddo! That was insane! I mean, I was gonna jump in if things got real bad, but you handled it well. Made a bit of a mess but hey, that's to be expected. Oh! Uh, you're looking at me kinda funny. Don't worry, your doggy is fast asleep in the car. Left the air conditioning on for her and all that so she's fine. Let's get you back and cleaned up, and maybe even get you a nice warm meal. You deserve it."
Holden didn't respond, nor did his violent intent decrease. He stared at her, looking directly into her eyes. Curling his hand into a fist, he started to approach. Holden, or at least what looked like him, had seemingly entered a mode that made him different. As Melony raised her eyebrows and smiled slightly, she seemed to recognize this as well.
"Ah... so that's how it is, huh kid? Not sure what's going on with ya, but if you're asking me to slap some sense into you, I'll do it."
She cracked her knuckles and walked forward. Whatever power Holden had achieved, it was obvious to her that it was affecting his mental state. It was best she confront him now and subdue whatever this was, lest others be potentially put in harm's way.
"Alright, have it your way. I'll go easy on you, but don't start cryin' like a punk when I show you what's up!"