Chapter 8 – GAME OVER?
The darkness swallowed Vera and Player 2 whole.
No sound.
No light.
Just the sensation of falling.
Falling.
Endlessly falling.
Vera gripped her pizza box like a life raft. "If I lose this too," she muttered under her breath, "I swear I'll burn this whole ghost house to the ground."
Player 2 just floated beside her, silent.
Until—
THUD.
They hit floor.
Hard enough that Vera's vision went white for a second.
When she sat up, she realized:
They were back.
Back in her gaming room.
Same worn-out chair.
Same half-empty soda cans.
Same glowing PC with her streaming chat popping off like normal.
> "YOOOOO VERA BEST STREAM EVER!!"
"CAN WE GET A PIZZA CAM??"
"THIS GAME LOOKS TOO REAL WTF"
"I'M DONATING MY HOUSE TO YOU"
"...What the hell?" Vera mumbled.
She glanced at Player 2 — but something was wrong.
Player 2 was glitching.
Flickering between her hoodie-wearing form and...
a mirror image of Vera herself.
Older.
Tired.
Eyes full of rage.
"You feel it yet?" the older Vera asked, voice dripping with bitterness.
"Feel what?" Vera shot back.
The room around them rumbled.
The walls peeled away like rotten paper, revealing something underneath:
—A massive movie screen.
Playing memories.
Her memories.
Vera saw herself — younger —
laughing at horror games,
munching pizza during late nights,
ignoring texts and knocks at her door.
Happy at first.
Then lonelier.
And lonelier.
And lonelier.
Until the only thing left was a girl trapped between a glowing screen and a half-eaten pizza.
"You never changed," Future Vera hissed.
"You think playing games makes you strong?"
"You think hiding in pizza and horror stories makes you invincible?"
"You left everything — and everyone — behind."
The screen showed blurred faces fading away.
Family.
Friends.
Even her own reflection turning its back.
"I was saving myself," Vera muttered, fists clenching.
"I was surviving."
Future Vera lunged at her.
The ground shattered into a million pieces —
like glass under a hammer.
BOSS BATTLE BEGINS: FINAL VERA VS FUTURE VERA.
The room twisted into a hellish arena.
Spiked pizza monsters.
Comment screens flying like knives.
Every missed moment, every regret — attacking physically.
Vera ducked and weaved through it all, cursing under her breath.
"I swear to god if one more guilt-trap pizza slices at me I'm uninstalling my brain," she grunted.
Future Vera hovered above the madness, raining down dark memories like grenades.
Vera had only two weapons:
—Her torch. (From the first game.)
—And her humor.
"Hey, future me!" she shouted, dodging a memory-bomb. "You STILL suck at horror games!"
A split-second pause.
Future Vera flinched.
Vera charged, smashing through memory-ghosts and bad dreams alike.
Every joke, every sarcastic quip —
weakened the darkness clinging to her future self.
"Guess what!" Vera yelled, grabbing a spiked pizza monster and hurling it like a frisbee.
"You're still lame enough to get beaten BY YOURSELF!"
Future Vera screamed.
The arena started breaking apart, crumbling into oblivion.
Finally, Vera stood over her older self — who was now just... a girl.
A lonely, broken girl curled on the floor.
"I'm not you," Vera said, voice steady.
"Not yet."
She offered a hand.
The screen flickered.
The chat exploded:
> "WTF IS HAPPENING"
"BEST BOSS BATTLE EVER"
"I'M CRYING BRO WTF"
"PIZZA POWER FOREVER!!!"
But right as Future Vera reached for her hand—
—everything shattered.
Darkness roared up like a tidal wave.
The last thing Vera heard was her own voice — but warped and broken:
> "YOU THINK YOU'RE DONE?
"HAHAHAHAHA—"
SILENCE.
When Vera opened her eyes,
she was back.
Back in her chair.
Back at her desk.
Pizza slice half-finished in her hand.
Stream running like normal.
No weird skull apps.
No countdowns.
No weird Player 2.
Just... normal.
Almost too normal.
She stared at the screen.
Then noticed—
A tiny glitch.
In the corner.
A skull icon.
Pulsing.
Waiting.
Vera grinned, deadpan. "Yeah, sure. What's the worst that could happen?"
She took another bite of her pizza.
And the screen blinked.
> "NEW GAME UNLOCKED: THE CHOICE YOU NEVER MADE."
(End of Chapter 8.)
Epilogue – The Loop
Far in the future...
in a room long abandoned,
a dusty PC still glows faintly.
Someone — something — sits at it.
Waiting.
Laughing.
And behind the cracked screen,
Vera's reflection watches herself.
Trapped.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Because some horror games never end.
Especially the ones you create yourself.
[ END ]
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