The Executioner of Horror Films

*On behalf of Mark*

I felt the lingering darkness when I was transported to another world - an abandoned psychiatric institution, where the light did not seem bright enough, and the air was saturated with fear and hopelessness. This place, full of suffering of its prisoners, created an aura around itself, from which anyone's skin would get frost. I was here on my mission, and I had to complete a task to earn points. I was interested in the fate of these people only to the extent that my task depended on their lives.

After the last mission, I had 2000 points. I knew that the abilities I would need were extremely important. I spent 1000 points on a ritual dagger - a specialized weapon capable of destroying metaphysical entities. The ghosts hiding in these walls were an obstacle to the task. For 500 points, I gained protection against mental attacks, and for the remaining 400, I activated night vision to see in the dark with amazing clarity.

When I appeared in this sinister place, there were only three left in the group: Lance, Sasha and T.C. The rest died without a chance to escape. I did not feel loyal to them; I understood that my main task was to protect these three in order to complete the mission and ensure their benefit. I watched them from the shadows, noting fear and insecurity in their eyes. It was exactly what I expected to see in their eyes.

When the group reached the old crumbling hall, I noticed how the ghost emerged from the darkness, his face was blurred, and the breath echoed throughout the room. I knew that it was necessary to act quickly.

- Look, what is it?! - shouted TC, his voice trembling with horror.

I wasn't going to wait for the ghost to attack them. Having activated the protection against mental attacks, I quickly rushed into battle. Grabbing the ritual dagger, I stepped forward with a focused look to meet the ghost. The emotions of the characters did not bother me - only the result mattered.

The ghost began to circle around them with outstretched arms, triggering its dark influence. However, I opened the bolt, the tip of the dagger developed in space - determination threw all the fear out of my heart, and I stuck a dagger into his chest with such force that it was as if cutting oil.

The ghost screamed, bursting with horror, and froze when the dagger broke his connection with this world. It melted in the air, leaving only cold silence and despair.

The heroes froze in shock, not understanding what was happening. Fear and bewilderment exploded in them, and I felt their panic growing.

- What... what was that? - Sasha said, her voice trembling with fear.

- It was just one of the creatures, - I replied, not wanting to explain more. - Your life is important only in the context of the mission. If you want to stay alive, follow me.

Lance and Sasha exchanged views full of doubts, but understood that I would have to trust to resist further threats.

I sent them further into the building, knowing that even more cruel trials await us ahead. Every shadow could hide a new evil, but I was ready to meet it. I had no regrets about the lost lives and knew that only focusing on my goals was important. Hardened and cold, I moved forward, striving to lead them to a safe exit to fulfill my mission to the fullest.

*On behalf of Lance*

Fear of a cold, sticky hand squeezed my chest harder than any football game in history. Of course, it was a familiar feeling, but usually it was good, one of those that charge with adrenaline before a big game. This fear, however, was different. It was not the fear of failure; it was the fear of complete and indisputable helplessness.

This has been the case since we crossed the threshold of this god-forsaken place. West Ridge Psychiatric Hospital, as its legends called it, is a place where the screams of the forgotten still echo in the cold, damp corridors. They are made for good television, at least we thought so.

I mean, we were "Seekers", for God's sake! Lance Preston, a charismatic leader; Sasha, a smart skeptic, and TK, a sharp technician. We were supposed to be professionals, those who chase creepy stories and laugh in the face of paranormal phenomena, and all this for the sake of good ratings. The TV show was our life - at least it was before we were all thrown into this madness.

We spent the last three years traveling to abandoned places. We were masters of scary things, and we always had an escape plan. We had our equipment, our cameras, our knowledge of paranormal phenomena, but here - all this meant nothing. Everything we used was useless. We were just a bunch of frightened children trapped in a real-life horror movie. The light flickered, the walls creaked, and the silence was broken by a whisper that sounded like the last desperate pleas for help.

The last episode, the one that was supposed to raise our ratings, the one in which we decided to spend the night in this hospital with supposedly ghosts... It was a disaster. It was supposed to be a great concept to spend the night in the most visited hospital in the country. All the equipment we brought became unusable in just a couple of hours. What was supposed to be a fun test turned into a struggle for survival. We were supposed to shoot ghosts, not become their prey.

We lost the rest of the film crew, our cameramen, our team of sound engineers, everyone disappeared in an instant. They didn't have time to react. They were killed in a matter of moments.

And then he appeared - as he said, his name is Mark. It was like the darkness spit out a void in the form of a man, a stranger with eyes that saw too much and felt too little.

At first I thought he was just some crazy fan, maybe a former patient who managed to wander here. But it wasn't like that; the way he moved, the way he looked at those... I knew he was different. He didn't even blink when the ghosts appeared. Then he tore this thing apart with a look, a strange hand gesture, something that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. What was it? It looked like a bad CGI effect, it was unnatural.

I put a lot of fight scenes for the show, but I haven't seen anything like it. It was a rough, frantic power that was more than just power. He threw this ghost like a bag of potatoes, and then ... then he just erased it. As if it was some annoying mistake he needed to get rid of. It was not an ordinary "paranormal activity". He was on a completely different level, and I had no idea how to deal with it.

He talked about points, missions, "metaphysical entities". It was as if he was reading some kind of scenario that I could not understand. His calmness was worse than ghosts. It was calm not of the one who knew what would happen next, but of the one who was not concerned by anything. He was here just to do his job. And then he said this:

"Your continued existence matters only in the context of the success of my mission. Do you want to live? Follow me." He didn't ask; it was a team, as if we were just puppets in his perverted game.

As if we were a prop, a cheap scenery for a second-rate movie, and I was the one who pushed them to this script. I felt anger rising in me, it was my fault that we were there. But the fear was stronger, and it was so powerful. He was like a shark, and we were just snacks, barely worthy of a look. I know I'm just a TV presenter, but I was the one who gave orders. I was the one who had everything under control, and now I was the one who followed orders.

I still didn't know who he was, but I knew he wasn't human. No one could do what he did. I've seen enough staged jump scenes to know that these are not special effects. Maybe he was just crazy, maybe he was a demon, a real demon sent to play with us. Maybe, maybe, he was a kind of divine intervention, a guard sent to save our asses. Or maybe it was something worse, something that was hiding in the shadows and could absorb us whole. Whoever he was, he wasn't human, and that was the worst thing. He didn't look at us without seeing people - he only saw work.

Sasha, with her botanical experience, tried to figure it all out, muttering something about "spatial faults" and "entities from outside", but here none of this made sense. And TK, even he was quiet, which was rare. Now he looked at Mark with fear and disbelief, this time without jokes. The once confident faces of the "Seekers" were now just full of horror.

We followed him because we had no other choice. Each step was heavier, and the silence was more intrusive than any ghost could be. We were trapped in this nightmare, and Mark, with his chilling detachment and unnatural strength, was the director. He was not a savior, he was a new threat, and with him I realized that the horror had just begun.

This guy was scarier than any ghost, and I couldn't get rid of the feeling that we replaced our old horror with a completely new, much more dangerous one. We were experts in inventing things, but we were far from experts in real situations, especially when it came to survival.