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    "Oh, God damn- ********!", shouted Klaus when he bent over the bathroom sink clutching his bleeding chest. Combing your hair would never get as exciting as this.

    Colognes, pastes, gels and foams crashed to the glittering icy floor as he stumbled out into the hallway. Klaus was shaking, his face pale and shining with beads of cold sweat, his vision blurred and sensitive to even the faintest of lights. His freshly laundered t-shirt was now soaked. The blood was already spreading onto his boxers...

    This is strange, Klaus thought to himself, where is all this blood coming from? Surely, I'd have died by now, there's definitely more than 6 litres on the floors alone!

    His thoughts didn't dwell for long though; he had to find it soon.

    The hallways outside stretched endlessly, deserted, and silent. A strong stench of chlorine and a musty sweet, almost warming smell lurked in the air. Klaus could be seen pulling himself along the walls, smearing blood all over the door frames and leaving quite the horrifying trail behind. But at last, he had made it to the directory. The florescent lights stung his eyes. He squinted desperately to read the words.
    Klaus Tearyl 3F #214 --->

    Klaus collapsed on the floor. Exhausted, wet, cold. He pushed himself against the wall and took a glance at his forearm. LED timer. 12:50 glowed under his skin. Momentarily entranced by the glowing numbers flashing by so impossibly quick, Klaus felt helpless. He wasn't going to make it.
    Nobody can help him. Nobody will know.




    He stood up, shivering. He pushed on with newly regained strength. A simple two letter word echoing itself in his head.


    He practically flung himself down the stairs in such a hurry.




    Klaus panted when he swung open the doors. He was still bleeding profusely, looking like he'd just taken a blood bath from the neck down, and a steady drip can be heard every time he lingered in one position. Another hallway. Naked incandescent bulbs hung from the ceiling to light up patches here and there tinging everything a yellowy brown. It smelled strange here.
    A little bit of apples and freshly cut grass... but at the same time, there was an unsettling quietness. So thick you can feel it closing in on you.

    Klaus ran. Large brass numbers and names whipped by on the doors.








    He power walked, his breathing irregular and strained. 6:37 glowed in the soft light.


    96, 97, 98, 99, 200.

    202, 205, 206, 208, 209, 210.


    Klaus Tearyl.

    This was it.

    He was here.

    Without a moment's hesitation, he twisted the plain handle and pushed.

    The door shut behind him.

    A soft and friendly light greeted him from the window. He had stepped into a pale green room. Unfurnished.
    Nostalgia hit Klaus. This was his nursery room. He tried hard to hold back tears when flashbacks and images of his parents invaded his head.

    This wasn't the time.


    There, in the middle of the hardwood floor.

    For the second time tonight, Klaus felt weak. He fell, once again, sitting cross-legged.

    It was a wooden box. It felt warm in Klaus' hands. A beautiful coffee brown, ornate and painted with gold. A little lock holding the delicate gold latches on the front. He turned it gently in his hands, on the bottom was his name etched carefully into the soft wood. And taped neatly next to it was a small silver key, beautifully decorated to match the box.

    The key turned and a tiny click was heard.

    A pool of crimson red surrounded Klaus and slowly grew to fill the room.

    His hands shook.

    A soft beat resounded from the now open box through the empty nursery.

    He carefully extracted his own heart.

    The beat coursed through his palm; so familiar.

    Klaus placed it into his chest wound. It slipped in effortlessly. Twisting around to realign itself.

    He winced in pain as bone and tissue knitted together before his very eyes,
    the gash smoothed out, soft and renewed.


    Any trace of blood disappeared, sinking and absorbing back into his skin.
    His clothes cleaned and dried themselves. His eyes no longer stung, his throat no longer parched,
    and his muscles ceased aching.

    But the timer kept ticking.

    Klaus remained stoic.
    He was okay now. He'd be fine. This is what he wanted and expected anyway.


    The room darkened. The ceiling appeared to be leaking sludge and the window seemed to shut off, the soft glow replaced with a menacing black, speckled with red dots.

    Eyes, probably. They've come to watch.

    The floor warped black too, a huge red swirl emanated from where he sat. The box had gone, sunken into the floor just moments earlier.

    An emotionless disembodied voice spoke to him.

    "Klaus Tearyl.
    Born 1989?"


    "You are aware of your current situation?"

    "Yes, I am."

    "And do you accept? This is a permanent decision, choose wisely."

    "Yes. I accept."

    "Klaus Tearyl, you will be erased entirely from the face of this earth, any friends, family, foes and acquaintances will forget you have ever existed. All records will be destroyed."

    "...Thank you."

    A single tear rolled down Klaus' cheek. First day of elementary school. His 5th birthday party. Getting a puppy for Christmas at 7. Playing with his little sister. Another party. 12... 13... His girlfriend. 14... Friends. 15... A vacation.

    Stills of the happiest moments in his life flickered by.

    And there

    Klaus Tearyl sat,

    so peaceful.

    a grin finding itself upon his lips,

    his figure glowing so serenely, fading into nothing as black sludge creeped towards him.