Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System
Chapter 191: Sinister Trail

As he knelt down to pick up a figure of a wrestler on the ground, Finn looked up to witness the walls becoming painted in splatters of red. The way the crimson was barbarically stretching across the one tranquil paint, it was as if unseen people were being slaughtered in that very room.

Finn looked down, replaceing the pristine figure he had held now missing its limb, soaked in blood as well before he dropped it, "This room…It was theirs, wasn't it? Something happened here."

"A core event of their childhood. A traumatic childhood event is all it takes to unscrew a person's mind, to rearrange it," Crow explained with a curious expression.

"A stroll through the mind of a killer. It seems like they want us to experience this. Maybe they're hoping to earn a pair of sympathizers?" Finn guessed.

"Can you forgive a killer like that, I wonder?" Crow asked with a smirk.

Finn looked at the hunter for a moment before brushing the question off, leaving the bloodied kid room, "I have a feeling we're only going to get closer by seeing what they want us to see."

"Lead the way," Crow welcomed.

Entering the charred hallway once more, the smell of smoke intensified, filling his lungs immediately as he coughed out. He placed his hand over his nose and mouth, looking over to replace that the living room was set ablaze.

There were multiple people standing by the sofas, engulfed in the flames with blackened flesh. A foul scent of skin burning, peeling away matched the smokiness.

"Hey!" Finn called out.

Approaching the flame-filled room, he intended to reach out to those who burned, but the flames lashed out, keeping him back. He quickly raised his arms to shield himself from the heat, lowering them to replace that the fire was gone in the blink of an eye.

The crackling of flames vanished, with not an ember left nor any signs of those who were burnt.

"What the hell?" Finn mumbled.

"If we're viewing a shattered mind, logic is going to be absent. If it was my mind or even your own, I doubt it'd be any more logical–no, it'd be much more confusing," Crow guessed with an excited smile.

Though he didn't like being lumped together with the killer, he couldn't reject the notion that his mind was far from stable.

"Let's just keep going," Finn said.

Upon choosing to leave the burnt apartment, he found there was now a door there, bringing him to turn the handle before opening it.

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

Continue reading at M V L

It was the sound of birds singing in a chipper tune, greeting his ears.

The warmth of sunlight graced his skin as he squinted at the sudden presence of light. It utterly caught his eyes off-guard as he realized it was sunlight, even though it was nighttime, let alone supposedly being indoors.

The floor of the complex was unrecognizable, instead replaceing himself in a peaceful park with a verdant bench that looked on to a playground.

'A park?'

He thought.

There was a man sitting alone at the bench, looking on at the playground where children played. It was impossible to make out the appearances of any of the children, each of their faces blurred and distorted as though trying to recall a dream.

Everything past the quiet park bench was increasingly more blurry and vague in detail the further it went, as though only that seat mattered. Going off of what little he knew, the only way to dig deeper into the domain of the killer was to follow on the given path.

Finn decided to take a seat on the bench beside the faceless stranger, glancing over to see that Crow watched the situation with his easygoing smile.

'Is this the killer? At least, a memory of them…? I can't really tell what they look like,'

Finn thought.

The blurred man on the other end of the bench wore a dark trench coat with slicked back, jet-black hair. A stench like that of booze came off of the man as he could hear the person mumbling incoherently.

"Hey, let's talk—" Finn spoke up.

As he extended an invitation for conversation, the faceless man stood up without warning. At that moment, the mumbling had stopped. He could make out the hints of an expression behind the static that veiled the man's face–an enraged look, gritting his teeth hard enough they may crack.

"Hey–" Finn reached out again.

To his surprise, the stranger reached beneath his cut, pulling out a large, sharp object–a kitchen knife. Seeing it and placing together what the person could be intending to use it for near a playground spurred Finn to try restraining the man, but his hands only went through the faceless figure like a phantom.

"Stop it!" Finn shouted, watching the knife-wielding adult march towards the playground while the unknowing children laughed and played.

Crow watched beside him, "It's not real, you know? We're taking a trip down somebody's memory lane, that's all."

"I know, but…" Finn said, choosing to look away. "This sort of scene…Something like this actually happened–I don't want to witness it."

Of course, Crow watched it without blinking or letting his smile fade; Finn took note of that as he glanced over, not pointing his gaze forward against the abhorrent sounds. Children screaming, flesh squelching, blood being spilled–it was a horrible orchestra.

'This person…They're a monster–burning families alive, slaughtering children in broad daylight…What the hell? This is a type of evil different from Raven or Crow…It's something more raw,'

Finn thought.

Coming to these conclusions about the unknown figure who had trapped him, the sound of wood creaking in the memory of the park resounded against his ears.

Crow's voice followed, "Looks like they're ready to continue giving us the tour."

Finn finally looked up, replaceing the sight of the horrific playground blocked by an opened door, unattached to any buildings, yet peering into a new scenery.

"I thought you weren't one so easily disturbed. After all, you've remained calm around a monster like me," Crow said, looking at him. "What's got you so off now?"

"Maybe it's the difference between us, but…The person we're dealing with–it's beyond

depraved

. You kill because you take delight in it, but this one–it's like their entire existence is sinister. An incarnation of evil," Finn explained, replaceing himself sweating. "A soul that can't be redeemed–there's no light there to uncover."

The admission from Finn seemed to only intrigue the hunter beside him further, who took the first step past the disembodied threshold.

"You're right. Our minds are vastly different. That's why the darkness that frightens you is a light that calls me," Crow admitted with a genuine smile. "Curiosity sits at the core of the human spirit, doesn't it? I think we both want to see what sort of devil or angel is awaiting us."

"An angel? I don't think there's a chance I'll ever understand you," Finn said, following the hunter through the doorway.

Crow held a smile that seemed satisfied with that response, "I'm sure you will, if you try hard enough. It's a rare gift I don't give to just anybody–letting them know me."

"You say that like it's a courtesy," Finn said, looking around at the new scenery.

It was the interior of a home, this time not burnt, left perfectly intact, though with a gloomy atmosphere deprived of lights in the wood corridor.

There wasn't complete silence; he could hear the sound of white noise buzzing off of a television. Though it sounded plentiful, as though there were many in another room. He walked along with the hunter, cautiously moving down the hallway before replaceing the first room on the left side.

Inside of it was a messy bedroom, scattered and filled with trash, only in the center was a tube television on.

The moment he looked into the room, the T.V flickered from static to what looked like found footage.

"A recording?" Finn muttered, looking at the screen.

It was hard to tell what was happening at all in the recording, only that it seemed to be filmed in a quiet forest at night, with only the leaves of trees becoming visible by distant light.

["

The only thing I know how to do is kill. It's the only way I know how to live. There's no rhyme or reason to it. There doesn't need to be

."]

A deep, gravelly voice spoke from the perplexing recording, sounding hollow of any humanity. There was something chilling about it–not exactly the sound of it, but hearing the person those words belonged to unsettled him.

The television flickered off as soon as the words were said, bringing Finn to leave the room as he stepped back into the corridor. Across the hall, he found Crow entering another room, following behind.

It housed more trash and yet another flickering television. The white screen switched over to another recording, this time showing the person holding the camera seeming to stalk an unsuspecting couple.

["

As a child, I endured years of nothingness. I thought I was odd, unable to experience any kind of happiness. I was mistaken. While others could achieve happiness through playing games, hanging out with friends, the way I could obtain happiness was violence. Nothing about it felt wrong. I hunted in the daylight. I hunted at night. I did as I pleased, up until I died

."]