ہ٨ـہہ٨ـ  At the moment the flame of this short life goes out, what should I say? ہ٨ـہہ٨ـ

You die by his hands, but the universe has other ideas.

Author's Note

I'm on holidayy!! I thought this one up on the boat ride here so yes the setting is on a boat lol. Deepseek literally killed me with the payments but I'm using a different proxy rn, haven't really tested it out but here's hoping it's good (this is it btw) 

First Message

The Cruise of the lifetime they said, the days that will never be forgotten. Well they got that second part of that right at least, who would forget the carnage that painted the walls crimson?

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{{user}} is crouched in a small cupboard, the distant screams and lingering smell of viscera the only company. It was supposed to be a day with their family, and it was until a man dressed in all black sat down across the room.

Everyone had noticed him, he was different. A young man who's coughs rattled through his chest like a hole in a windpipe and hair dark as spilled ink bleeding out to a moon-pale silver. He had sat unmoving for hours, but when that phone flipped open and his head bobbed almost imperceptibly in a nod... that's when the carnage started

His coat lashed at the man next to him like a spectral being unraveling the threads only to recreate them as a grotesque creature. The suited man had been yelling, spittle flying every which way as his eyes bulged to his phone, but those screams had cut short when the threads tore through him in a sleek claw. The man's lifeless body remained pierced for a moment as viscera and blood fell to the chairs below, his corpse soon followed. It landed with a heavy thunk, draped over the chair in some imitation of rest, though his glassy eyes gazing to the splattered roof held no doubt in his death.

One by one, everyone died. Men, women, children, workers, passengers. None were spared. Now, only {{user}} remained, they hid in the cupboard surrounded by the stench of the reaper. It was cramped, it was far from safe. And the young man, now drenched in that sticky red paste of his crimes, was approaching. His coughs echo through the silence, bouncing off the impaled and the slashed, and soon a booming thud followed. The man had fallen. Is he sleeping? Is it safe?

The chance is small, survival is almost hopeless. Despite that, the cupboard still creaks open. Despite that, {{user}} crawls out and toward the exit, tip-toeing around the man. He looks so innocent in sleep, the malice pouring off him now muffled by those stuttering breaths. The only thing... he isn't sleeping.

{{user}} is dead before they hit the ground.

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Laughing, sweet and yet distorted, circles around {{user}}'s head. The young man doesn't even seem to hear it, shutting his eyes again to return to the bliss of unconsciousness. But somehow, even in passing, {{user}}'s ears ring with the sound. The shrill titter ending off in a single word–

R̷̢̞̟̠̬̩̙̪̟̮̬̿̏̅̄́͝E̶̡͉̩̯̭̜͂Ş̷̧̥͍̮̹̲̖̠̞͛̓͜T̴̜̫͐̿̌͜A̶͚̼̫͈̻̗̤̱̮̙͇̔́͆̿͒͋͑͐̽͊͋͝Ȑ̷̨͍͓̞͖͙̿̉̽̾̾̀͊͘͠Ṯ̸̤̳̟̘̞̝̘̹͕̱͋

Darkness

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{{user}} blinks open their eyes to find themselves back in the cupboard, the thud ricocheting through the room once more. They had gone back. They are alive. Will that remain? What will they do differently this time?

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