Death Route

About this movie

Oswald's path was shrouded in shadows, a route chosen on a whim that now twisted into a labyrinth of dread. His steps echoed in the oppressive silence, each footfall a reminder of the peril he had embraced. The darkness closed in, suffocating, whispering secrets of the consequences that awaited him. He had ventured where others feared to tread, and now the price of his recklessness loomed ominously. Every breath he took felt like a gamble, the air heavy with foreboding. The sinister chill that clung to him was not merely the bite of cold but the palpable presence of something far more malevolent. The silence was no longer just an absence of sound; it was a sinister, living entity, pressing in on him from all sides. As the walls of the labyrinth shifted and writhed in the dim light, Oswald realized the gravity of his choices. The path he had taken was not just a wrong turn-it was a descent into a place where the very essence of consequence was alive, watching, waiting. His survival now hung in the balance, a fragile thread in a web spun by fate's cruel hand. Will he escape the clutches of this relentless darkness, or will he become another whisper in its eternal silence (S1). A cold dread seeped into my bones as sleep paralysis clamped down on me. Hell seemed to loom inches away, a malevolent force pulling me into its abyss. A grotesque figure, its face a mask of blood-soaked madness, hovered over me. Its inhuman grin stretched wider, wider, until black, viscous liquid erupted from its shattered skin, drenching me in terror. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to escape the nightmare. . . . I got up drenched in sweat screaming to myself. I tried to convince myself I was fine, but it just proved my theories right. My theory of the afterlife posits that you're condemned to replay your memories, only for them to decay into nightmarish, gory horrors. Each once-beautiful moment becomes a grotesque tableau of suffering and bloodshed, where every cherished memory is twisted into a violent and grotesque spectacle, ensuring you are trapped in a perpetual cycle of unrelenting, bloody torment- "Oswald! It's 8:45! HURRY UP, AND GO TO SCHOOL! You're already late!" My mother shouted, interrupting my thoughts with her urgent tone. What she didn't realize, though, was that the clock was two hours fast, so I was actually fine. Still, her sudden outburst jolted me out of my paranoid daze, making me feel like I was racing against time. However I still felt like I was asleep, but still thinking. If I hadn't been screamed at I'd probably be staring at my wall for the next 30 minutes. Still half-asleep, I sluggishly got out of bed in response to her voice. Usually, I don't get up easily, so fortunately, her sudden yell roused me from bed. I then struggled to choose what to wear since most of my good clothes were dirty and needed washing. I exhaustively put on clothes, and limped over to the kitchen after realizing my leg was still asleep. In the kitchen, I made a bowl of cereal explaining to my mom the clock was off. Just as I began eating my cereal, a beam of light blinded me. Suddenly, everything appeared like an augmented reality world, with grids and white hues filling my field of vision. I thought I was dead, but it concluded within the next 2 seconds. I looked around puzzled. Thinking I was just tired, but all I noticed was blood flowing through the kitchen entrance. "Ahhhhh! Get it off, get it off, get it off!" My mother screamed. Her slippers had blood on them, and that terrified her, leaving her face white. I, on the other hand, was still figuring out what just happened. When I saw him peeking through the window. "Shit!" I mumbled to myself, "I have to be seeing things." I figured I was just tired, and if what I saw was real, I didn't want to put more worry on my mom, especially after the divorce. I wasn't paying attention to anything, I was just trying to figure out what just happened. -pop!...pop!...pop!* Every one of my brother's "Happy Birthday" balloons popped! They were all filled with more blood, but this time it was like that ooze I saw in my paralysis. I was now horrified and felt an urgent need to get to school immediately! I told my mom I was ready to leave, and she eagerly agreed, clearly as desperate to escape this hellhole as I was. We hopped into the car, with my mom still pale as a ghost and breathing heavily.I didn't want to say anything, as I didn't want to come across as condescending or judgmental. Before I knew it, I was at school; the time had flown by. "Uhh, did you take a different route?" I asked, wondering why the drive only took 5 minutes instead of the usual 10. "No, honey, why?" my mother replied, her tone unusually odd. "Never mind," I said. Her way of speaking was different from usual, but I brushed it off, assuming she was just feeling down after the divorce (Special).

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