"Damn it, damn it! I'm hungry again..."
Lawrence leaned against the stone wall, his expression oscillating between maniacal laughter and pained sighs, as if two entirely different personalities were battling within his troubled mind.
One voice kept urging him to continue the killing spree, while the other repeatedly questioned why he was there.
The constant clash of these voices had driven Lawrence to madness.
"I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be... here."
But no matter how hard he tried, Lawrence couldn't remember where he was supposed to go.
"No, John! I'm here to kill John. That's right! If I kill John, my headache will stop."
It was as if Lawrence had a moment of clarity, and the voices in his head finally aligned.
He had to kill John.
...
Meanwhile, on the sixth level of the labyrinth.
The torch in John's hand flickered in the wind, casting orange-yellow light that made his shadow dance on the ground.
