Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.
The knocking continued, and Don remained frozen in place. Then, a familiar voice called out to him: "Don, are you inside?"
It was the voice of Uncle John from the butcher shop.
But why do I feel this fear? And why can't my body move?
[Do not make a sound, boy.] The Source spoke in a commanding tone, then continued: [Use your Imagination skill now. Imagine the door is not there and that you can see through it. This is the one time I will help you for free. Now, do as I commanded.]
Don grew more panicked, his mind paralyzed by fear. He was still only twelve, and even if his body had changed, he was still a child. His emotions were not his strongest weapon right now. But he didn't want to feel this helpless. Why do I feel helpless? Why can't I move? He decided to follow the advice and said in his mind, "Activate Imagination!"
[Imagination activated.]
[Describe what you desire, and it shall be.]
This door is not here to my eyes. I can see through it.
[Requirement fulfilled. Requirements met. Madness percentage will not increase. 300 Mana drained.]
Don felt his energy drop, a headache forming, and pain in his eyes. But now, he could see.
"What is that?! What is that?! What is that?! Who did this?!" he screamed in his mind.
He could see Uncle John now. His head was facing the wrong direction. His hands and legs were pointed metal, like the knives he used in his shop. His hair was almost gone, and his entire body was secreting a greenish, pus-like substance. Don couldn't smell the odor, but the sight made him want to dig into the ground to hide. He didn't know what to do until he heard the voice again. This time it was angry, and the sound was coarser, as if metal nails were in his throat.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Don! You're meat, aren't you? You wanted meat, meat, meat, meat. I brought you the meat. Open the door. I want to bring the meat, meat, meat!"
He continued to knock and repeat the word "meat" like a maniac. He wasn't knocking with his hands, but with the back of his bloody head—a sight that would make old men cry out for their mothers. Don's mind, however, entered a state of stillness. He was so terrified that his mind had shut down.
[This... is expected, My son. Hold on a little. If this frightens you, what will you do in the future? sigh.]
[Now, wake up.]
Don did not hear the words, but when The Source told him to wake up, an electric charge ran through his body, forcing him to. His consciousness finally returned, but this time, he ran to the kitchen.
A weapon! I must find a weapon! Any weapon! Where are the damned knives?
He searched and finally found what he was looking for. The moment he grabbed the knife, The Source spoke, but Don didn't care and didn't listen. He moved and returned to stand behind the door. The knocking hadn't stopped, but the door couldn't withstand it anymore.
Crack!
A hole was made in the door, and the back of the head looked like flattened pastry now, bleeding yellow-colored blood.
Don backed away suddenly in panic. Then Uncle John's head snapped back into position with a horrible cracking sound that made Don grind his teeth. John turned his body and lunged at the door.
CRACK!
The door was completely smashed. Don looked at the chaos. Uncle John stood on the sharp, pointed ends of his limbs, which made a metallic scraping sound with every touch to the floor.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
When Don looked at Uncle John's face, there were no eyes. He understood why he hadn't attacked; he couldn't see him.
This is my chance! Don thought to himself, holding the kitchen knife. But as he started to move, he stepped on a piece of broken wood and broke it further.
CRACK!
John heard him and began lunging toward him. Don didn't know what to do. He swung his knife as if it were a sword, but the knife was short, and his new height made him miss the swing. He fell.
John was on top of him, letting out a savage roar: "GAAAAAAAAA!"
He began stabbing him with his limb-blades—in the chest, in the leg, in the throat—and began biting his flesh.
Don was semi-invulnerable to death, but he still felt the pain. He choked on his own blood. He couldn't scream, and his flesh began to regenerate seconds later, only for John to stab him and eat again. After five minutes, Don didn't move from his spot. John smelled him again and thought, Finally, the meat has been gathered.
But the knife never left Don's hand. As John raised his bladed limbs away from him, Don lunged and stabbed him in the head.
"GAAAAAAAAA!" John screamed in pain, but Don didn't care.
He started stabbing him repeatedly. "Die! Die! Die, you accursed bastard! Die! Die! Die!"
Don heard The Source's voice again but ignored it. He continued stabbing until he was exhausted. The knife fell from his hands, and he began screaming, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Tears streamed from his eyes, and a message came from The Source again, which he didn't hear:
[Well done.]
[Your level has increased.]
[Madness percentage has increased.]