Volume 8
"George, wake up." He stirred, slowly opening his eyes and was shocked to see his arrival. It was the abandoned warehouse, the place where he thought he would never return again. George slowly took in the sight of the warehouse, feeling a mix of shock and disbelief. He had ran away from when he had thought he had escaped the place, and now, here he was. "We're here," Michael said, his voice full of joy and triumph. "We made it."
George looked around the warehouse. He realized that something was off. He started to feel uneasy, and a sense of dread started to build up in him. He slowly walked up to Michael and grabbed his shoulder. "Michael, we need to leave, now," he said, his voice urgent. "Something isn't right here." Michael tilted his head and asked. "Are you scared, buddy?" George tightened his grip on Michael's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Listen, I was here when I did the task and here I'm telling you that this place is dangerous. We have to leave now." His voice was stern.
Michael was silent and brushed George's hands off from him, staring at him. His gaze was intense and unnerving, making George confused and wondering what had gotten to him. George felt a chill in his spine as he noticed the intensity of Michael's gaze. He stepped back, feeling uncomfortable and scared. He could sense that something was wrong, but he had no idea what it was. "Hey, Michael!" He shouted. Michael didn't respond, but he kept his gaze on George. His expression was unreadable.
Suddenly, he heard a cawing sound from the fragile window, shocking him. He quickly turned his head towards the window, only to find a menacing crow staring back at him. His heart raced as he realized the crow was not alone. Surrounding it were five more crows, their beady eyes fixed on him. Then, he heard a familiar voice repeat the same question.
"Do you think the sins we committed can be erased?"
George turned around to see Michael wasn't with him anymore. "Michael?" He called anxiously. He looked around to see if his friend was still there, but unfortunately he wasn't. "Michael?!" He shouted his name again. George panicked. He had no idea where Michael was. "MICHAEL!" George began to search frantically in every direction, calling out Michael's name every few seconds. He began to worry that something had happened to his friend. He couldn't see him anywhere.
"Michael, say something!" Suddenly, he heard a faint voice in the distance. "I'm over here!" Michael yelled. George ran in the direction of the voice and stopped. His eyes widened when he saw a pale girl standing in front of him. Her back faced him as she slowly turned her head to him. A stream of tears mixed with blood flowed down her cheeks. George was taken aback by looking at the girl. He realized the voice was coming from her and she was Floryn.
George trembled. He turned around immediately and suddenly the place switched to where he was at the beginning, shocking him. As he frowned and became frustrated, he said, "What the-?" He tried to figure out what had happened, but it was too confusing for him. He decided to take a step back and try to find a way out of the place. As he turned his way to the door, a sudden voice coming from behind him. "George, where do you think you're going?" George stopped when he recognized the voice.
He turned his head and saw Michael standing with an oil container in his hand confusingly. George was barely to open his mouth, not knowing how to respond. Michael had a serious look on his face and said, "We still have a lot of work to do here before we can leave." He opened the container's cap and threw it to the ground. He looked at him and said. "Come here." His voice was cold. George was hesitant to approach Michael because he could feel negative energy around Michael. Michael noticed him. He sighed disappointedly. "I don't think this is your first day doing this kind of job, pal."
Michael turned his attention to the person lying on the ground, wrapped in a white blanket. Seeing the blanket, George wondered where it came from. Then, he tried to remember that he didn't cover Floryn with a blanket. He placed her on the ground without a blanket. "Something... Something is not right in this place." He lowered his voice. Michael's eyes looked confused. "The only person who is not in the right mind is you."
"Look Michael, you have no idea what's going on here." George said. George looked away, his face pale. "I've seen something I can't explain. Something is here, something dark and powerful." He shivered and looked back at Michael. "We must leave this place now." Michael remained silent. Michael could see the fear in George's eyes. He had never seen his friend shaken up before. "I have no idea what are you talking about," Michael continued. "There is nothing here that could possibly be shaking you up this much. You're just seeing things that aren't there." He turned his way back to the person lying on the ground.
George grabbed Michael's arm, his voice trembling. "It's real. We have to leave now." George could see Michael's expression as if he was disbelief on what he said. "I don't know what you're talking about," Michael said, his voice laced with anger. "You're just trying to scare me." He yanked his arm out of George's grip. "I'm not trying to scare you," George said, his voice pleading. "I saw it with my own eyes. There's something in here, watching us!" He raised his voice.
Michael groaned and instantly put down the oil container on the ground before looking at his friend. "Fine then! Tell me what you saw in your eyes." George started to explain what he had seen, his voice trembling as he talked about crows, Floryn and so on. George finished his story and they both stood in silence, their minds spinning. "That's ridiculous," Michael said, finally breaking the silence. "You're just seeing things because you want to. There's no such thing as a looping house, and crows don't control people's minds."
George sighed. "I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth." He pointed to the dead body. "This blanket. Her body wasn't covered by a blanket, and I don't even remember when I brought one!" Michael looked at him skeptically. "Then how did this blanket get here?" George shook his head, unable to explain it. "I don't know." Michael stared at the blanket. 'He may be telling the truth, but there must be a rational explanation for the blanket. Maybe he was exhausted until he forgot he wrapped her body in it.' He thought.
He decided to put the mystery aside for now and focus on the more pressing matters at hand. He grabbed the container back and poured the oil onto the dead body. Once the container was empty, he threw it away. "Do you have a match?" He asked as he stretched his arm toward George. He quickly took out the match and gave it to Michael without saying a word. Michael lit the match and threw it on the oil-soaked body. A huge fireball erupted, and the body was engulfed in flames.