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"Connection terminated.

I'm sorry to interrupt you Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name. But I'm afraid you've been misinformed."

The faint voice of Henry Emily rang throughout the building. 

"You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume. Although you have indeed been called. You have all been called here. Into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped."

Billows of smoke rose up, up, up, into the cavernous vents.

"Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach. But you will never find them, none of you will. This is where your story ends."

Up, up, up, into an empty pizzaria.

"And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well, I am nearby."

Up, up, up, into Michael's office, where he leaned back into his office chair.

"This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should."

He could hear them now, his sister, his father, his friends, his enemies. Their unholy, metallic screeches echoing. Henry's calm voice juxtaposed with the screams.

"And to you monsters trapped in the corridors: Be still and give up your spirits, they don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend."

Michael grinned at that remark. 

"My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours. And then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now."

It was getting hot inside of his cramped office. Too hot for comfort, and yet Michael had never felt so at peace.

"It's time to rest. For you, and for those you have carried in your arms."

 Finally, he was going to be freed. Freed from this hellhole. Freed from his family.

"This ends for all of us."

He closed his eyes.


"End communication."