͍͈
{Y̵̟͎̠̽͘o̶̬̥͉͈͛̎͛̎͐̅͛̋u̴̥̼͕̞̒͊̏...̵̤͇̘̺̓͠ ̸͈͍̓̅͋̿̐̔̈́r̸̡̘͓̟̬͙̖̙͗͗̔̔͋͊́͠ȅ̷̤̬̹̝̞̩̰̀̔̀̓͆͘ä̶̛̼̘͈̺͖̹̖́̄̔͘͝͝l̵̛̞̯͕̱͍̪͍̈́̅̎̅͒͝l̶̯̱̮̼̩̯̳̋͌̿͆͘̚͠y̵̫̻̘͗̽͆̀͒͘̚ ̴̡̬̥̫̤̩̖̙̓͐̆̈́ā̶͓̘͈̲̝̞̲̳̎̈́̌̒͆͗͝r̷͖̝͙̼̗̦̖̍̆̌̿̇̕̕͠ͅe̸̞̲̘̮̞̺̠̘͛̃̾̐̄̈́͑...̶̢͍̮̫̬͓̑̅͂͐̇̕͝ ̴̛̛̗̼͔̩͇̲̙̺̅̑̅̏͊d̴̺̯͈͙̲̦̝͙̞̠̼͚͂͗̑͛͗͘͝i̷̖̱͍͖̮͓̠̋̈́͌̽̐̐̚͠͠͝f̴̩̘̹̐̾̒̕f̴̛̞̯̱̼̹͔̺͚̤̰̓̄̿̆͑̇͜͝e̸̛̖͕͎̝͖͍̲̗̞̼͗̇͑̍͝ŕ̴̛̥̞̝̠̗͕͙̲̹͌̋̍̕͝ė̴͇͚̞̺̜͍̲̪̀̓̒̋͐͌͊̕n̶͎̯̯̘̺̩̗̩̦̓̇̿̔̍̅̽̈́͛̚t̴̛̥͖̪͙̭̟̙̰͓̪̄̓͜͜͝ ̸̛͇͉̺̼̠̈́̿̓̓͗̚͝͝h̵̤̜̬̰͙̺̝͔͈͇̟̥͋̿̈́͘͝u̶͕̟͙͕̞̹̲̰͔̖̖͛̓̀̆̀̀̄̐̄̚̚͠ͅh̸̛̠̤͈͍͍̯͈͍͉̝͚̬̙̎̀̑́͊̆̚?̶̥͇̮̞̜͉̦̘̳͍͈̼̍̒̇̿̆͝}
"What the hell..."
I stumbled back, my legs nearly giving out under me. My spine stiffened like it knew something was off, that even my brain hadn't caught up with yet. The blue screen... it wasn't blue anymore. It was bleeding red, dark crimson and cracked like dry veins on an old corpse's skin.
And across it? Words—not typed, not coded, but etched. Like fingernails clawed through the fabric of the system, carving in letters that jittered, glitched, and refused to sit still.
'You. really. are. different.' is what it as trying to say.
'A message,' but not from the system.
'I knew it.' That thing—whatever god or entity wrote the system's rules—make sure that it couldn't express emotions or anything different from it algorithms.
But this?
This was something personal.
Malicious. and Aware.
'Which meant only one thing.'
"These words," I muttered, heart pounding like someone had stuffed a jackhammer into my chest, "aren't from the system…!!!"
Pic
It felt like a revelation slapped me across the face.
"…they're from its creator."
I swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry like I'd been sucking on chalk. The air felt thick—too thick. Although i didn't looked back but i could feel it like something _else_ was breathing with me, in sync, it was behind me but i didn't have the courage to face it.
"The entity responsible… for throwing me into this fucked-up nightmare… into the body of Sunless…"
Just thinking it made my skin crawl. My hands balled into fists, trembling with rage, fear, and something else. Hatred. Primal, irrational, burning hatred.
It was the type of rage i haven't felt in my two life.
"LISTEN HERE, YOU DIPSHIT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, voice cracking with raw fury. I felt the vibrations ripple through my chest and into the room like sonar.
"I'm not your plaything! Not your fucking toy! Not your broken doll! You want entertainment? Go fuck your mother!" i tried sounding threatening, like one of those cold-blooded bastards from an action movie. But deep down I knew: In my past life, the only thing I'd killed was a fly or a rat—and even then I apologized for it.
'What the fuck am i doing?'
The screen twitched—then shattered into violent static.
{"K̴̛̫͓͖̪̩̝͇̗̪͓͍̝͕̖̖͎̝͈͐̾͒͋̐̀̓̈́͒̓͗͘͜͝͝͝ė̶̢̡̢̛̞̲͍͈̘͖͇͖̬̯̱̰͚͍̬̠̙̘̙̍̿̿͒́̔̅͑̓͋̕̚̕͝͠͝~~̵̢̛͎͙̱͙̖̼̮̘̬̪̼̙̅͐̾̐̈́̄̀̍̈́͗̾͐̌͑͐̋͊͝~~̵̡̡͍̘̝͖̞̯͕̤̝̤̼̮̖̎͛̀̈́̍̾͛̾̈́͂́̒̓̐̿͘͜~~̴̛̘̱͕͓͎̥̲͚̟̖̦͙̬̼̟̘̳̥̎͌͋̍̈́̈́͗̈́̓̍̓͆̋̐́͛͜͜͝ͅḱ̴̢͍̯̲̫̟̳̥̺̞̦̘̦͇̝̮͖̦̟̯̤̮̋̀̀̋̿̐̐̽̒̈́̕͘͜͝e̵̛̛̛̖͙̩̠̝̱͕̙̙̯͓̝̝̰̫̠̠̗͈̐̾͗̋̋̎̓͒̅͐͒̈́̓̈́͊~~̷̳̠͖̥̪͇̘̺̱̖̹̘͇̮̖͕̱̳͇̰̯̠͋̓͌͗̓̽͛̍͋̓̓̌͘̚̕͝͠͝~~̶̢̡̡̢̛͇̘̪͖̫̝̼͇̘̝̟̲̖͍̥͓̞̈́̀̾̿͐̈́͋̎̄͆̾̈́̾͆̈́̾̓͌͜~~̴̢̛̞͕͙͓̱̤̟̖̼̫̥͎̦͕̗̬̯̯̆̿͐̽̏̏̍̿̔̿̍͒̒̍̚̕k̶̡̘͚̟̺͚̞͚͎̠̫̗̻̱̥̠͛̓̎̿̈́̌̅͐͗͐̔̍̚̚͜͜͝ͅe̵̡̛̬̹͎̙̪͎͕̺͙̼̩̖̘̳̜͖̳̰̥͚͐͗̾͌̐̏͗̅͋̓̀̈́̆̎͛͒͊ͅ~keke~̶̡̡̛͎̝̘̲̘̹̺͔̙̪͇̲̖̽̾͗̐́̐͋͌̄̄̏̎̚͘̚͠~~̶̰̺̙̬͈͓̫̲̺͓̯̗͇̟̜̤̳͛͂̄́̎̃̃̃͐̄͛́̒̾̍͌̌̕͜~̵̢̦̤̯̟̤̜͎̤͇̞̝̙̰̼͙̲̲̠̽̆̇͋͐̇͂̈́̇̌̚͘͜͜͜͝ͅ"}
Laughter, that fucking laughter.
It wasn't human. It wasn't even animal. It was something else.
.... like glass laughing. Like broken wires trying to imitate mirth. It had no joy, no heart. Just intent. Cruel, cold, and ancient.
It reminded me of her. The dead-eyed chuckle from my stepmother, right before she raped me physically, emotionally, spiritually to the point that i was nothing but a broken doll.
That sound you never forget. A sound that hollows you out.
I spun around, looking for the source, chest rising and falling like I was running a marathon through Hell itself. I knew it was the screen, but it felt like it was everywhere. Inside the room, inside the bed, inside the walls and even Inside me.
{W̶̢̤̖̞͖̟͇̟̟̓̾̅̓͗͌̏͛́̔̀͋̈́͜͝ȇ̷̛͉̞͔̜̗̟͚͍̹͓̰̬͋̍̔̿̇͐͂͛͂̕͝l̵̢͎͉̤͚͖̹̥͈͇̘̰͇͚̅͗͂̿̽̆̐͆̆͆͘̚̚͜l̴̫̝͓̜̫͈͕͕͉̹̼̯̲̯̂͐͑̎̋̿̒͋̓̓̓̽̈́͜͠͝͝~̴̛̖̤͚̼͈͉͎̺̳̬͙̘͎͙̺͛́̃̽̎́̈́̍̄̇͆̚͘͘W̴̢͇͍̮̝̟̰̞̪͎̼̼͈̌͆̐͐̅͋̓̽͂̔̽̿͊̽̎͜e̸̢̢̛͕̤̪̲̙͍͉̱̞̳͈͚͊́͊̓̍͊̈́͌͂̆̍̽̓̚͠ͅl̶̢̩͔̟͍̜͓̯͍̳̖̠̯̺̳̿͌̌̎͊̐̋̓̒̀̚l̶̨̛̟͓̬̻͙̱͙̺͖̫͙̉̀̆́̏͌̽̿́̕͘͝~̷̨̢̤̩̙͇͍̫͚͚̿̋͒̒̾̔͛̈́̽͌͑̽̈́̚͠Ẅ̶̡̯̳̖̳̺̺̙̝̮̮̖͎͍̠̫́̾̀̏̌͂͌̐̓̓͑̕̕͘͠e̵̛̼̙̗̖͙̞̱̥̰̼̖͇͂́̽̆̾̋͛̒̐̎̋̓͘l̴̛͈̲͎͇͕͙̮̱̳͕̱̬͛̓̒͊̽͂̐̽͆̓͜͝͝l̵̛̪̘̳̼͓̙͇̼̮̰̺̯̥̗̲̽̿̆͗̿͂̋̿̈́̓̚̕͜͝͝~̸͓̙͈͓̱̹̙͎̖̬̗̘̼̘̘̰̐̈́̽̽̃̐̆̇̆͆̅͊̈́́͗̕}
"FUCK!" I clutched my head as those words exploded in my ears. My eardrums felt like they were being perforated by needles. I staggered, trying to stay upright, but i was failing at that.
Wetness ran down my at the side of my face. I wiped it instinctively and looked at my hand—Blood.
My ears were bleeding, and then i started coughing.
Deep, wrenching, gut-clawing coughs. I dropped to my knees.
COUGH!
COUGH!
COUGH!!
This morning i didn't have any breakfast, which meant my stomach acid came up, and it burned like drinking razor blades soaked in bleach.
"Damn it—" I gasped, falling fully to the floor. My vision blurred as pressure built in my skull. Veins throbbed along my temples like they were trying to burst free.
'It felt like my head was about to explode.'
Every thought became static. Every breath tasted like iron. I couldn't tell if the screaming was from me or the thing.
And then, just before I passed out—
{T̷̛͙͖̱͈̘̖̯̼̲͓̟̺̱̦̝̿̈́͐̓͋̾͌̔̍͑̾͐̚̚͘͝͝h̵̪̺̬͍̼̮̜̾̇̒̑̈́̾͌̌̀̀̔̾̿́̕̚͜͝͝i̴̘̞̮͚̯͇̘̳͎͍͙̱̯̰͎̳͐̇̅͋̈́͛̌͊̒͒̇̆̕̚͘͝͝ͅs̶̼̹͎̩̳̳͓̯͇̳̘̞̖̙͌̐̄̍̓̋͆͗̈́͋̐̓̇̚͝͠ ̴̡̛̰̖̹̲̙̩̠͚͆̍̾̀̐̈́̾̓́̍͗̒̈́̌̑͘̚ǐ̷̘̪̥̠̖̘̮͓̖̤̰͇͚͗́̃̋̌̾̄̌̒͘͘͝ṡ̴̡̰̲͚̬̮̙͉͍̞̤̬͍̤̺̘͌̾́́͒̆͐́̓̿́̏͗̀̚͜ ̸̞̲̬͚̞͓̺̤͈̱̮̖̤͕͕̄̋̍̅̈́̓̍́̽̿́̓̅͊͗͘̕a̶̛̳͙̙̞͍̩͖̬͍̲̪̦͈̟̝̱̋̄̓̿́̀͆̑͂̏̎͘͜͠͠͝ ̸͇͍̼̗͓̯̘͕̪͉̝̅͂̆͊̽̓͛̋̿͛̐͆͛͗̚̕͘͠w̶̛̲̺͎͕̳͉̞͉̲͓̰̪͂̍̇͂̅̽͒́̌̓͊̔͌̓͂̈́̍ͅà̴̞̫̞͕͖̦͙͎̞͉́̐͒̎̇̓͊̿̋̀͆͘̕̕͝r̶̢̛͍̖͓̪̦͚̻̬̲̰̪̫̓̿͗́͒͊̄͆͐̿͋͐̽̍̔̈́̚ͅͅǹ̶̡̛̖͚̱̰̫̼̺͚̺̺̩̹͍̤̖͇̳͋̍̌̆̄͐̑̔̐̓̿͠͝͝͝i̴̢̪̲͖͔̩͖̙͇̗̞̘̬̘̓̿̅̋͊̍͒̿̐̐̌̀̕͜n̴̡͈̞̼͎̘̘̼̺̟͍̬͍̯̬͊̽͐̋͆̈́͛̐̚̚͝͝͝͠g̸̢̛̻̦̬̥̖͈̳͖̝̜̖̮̀͋̿͆̆͂̌͐͒̾̐͑̽̀͘͠͝ͅ.̴̢̛̙̰̫̯͎̬̰̼͎̺̬̺̙̼̾͛̿̄̀̽̈́̌̈́̔̈́̅̀̕̚͜͝͠}
My body went limp.
As I slipped into the darkness, the only thought that lingered in my shredded consciousness was:
'And here I thought my life had changed...'
But it had, just not in the way I wanted, as i was already losing the consciousness, i couldn't help but think that now a lot of things are making sense.
Why i can't kill myself in my past life, the things that kept on interfering with my death.
How the hell i was so sane after going thought that stuff which should have mentally broken me.
Why was i send in this world.
How the original Sunny died of Heart Attack.
And so many more things...........
The answers i disparately want to know is something only that entity can answer but i also know that thing is not going to just answer my question without asking for anything in return.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I opened my eyes and stared at the pale, white ceiling above me.
'What a dream...' I thought, blinking slowly. A long one—too long. Some twisted isekai fantasy where I'd been tossed into another world, paraded around like the protagonist.
'I need to stop reading those damn novels.' If this keeps up, I might just lose my grip on reality for good.
'But those thing are what keep me sane form this abuse.' my only ticket to escape from the reality.
I tried to shake my head to clear my thoughts—BIG MISTAKE. Pain exploded through my body like a hundred volts of electricity. Not just in my head—every nerve, every inch of flesh screamed.
"It hurts..." i whispered hoarsely. The memory of last night came crawling back as I glanced at the heap of unconscious, naked bodies laying on the king size of a bed—men and women spreading their legs and hugging each other like their life depends on it.
'Last night they both were inside me.' i thought as i felt sharp pain from my butt.
I forced myself to sit up, each movement a small war. Ten minutes of agony later, I managed to stand—barely. My legs wobbled under me as i limped toward the mirror.
What stared back wasn't a man. It was a boy with soft, almost feminine features—pale skin like bleached bone, untouched by sunlight for years. Black eyes with lashes too long, too delicate. But the look in them?
Empty. Dead.
'These eyes have seen enough.' That numb stare was carved by pain—mental, physical, unending.
My long hair was the same lifeless black, streaked with strands of white.
'I'm still young… but my hair's already giving up.' I ran a hand through it and stopped when my fingers brushed the scars.
My body looked like a medical diagram from a horror textbook. Thin enough to see the bones. My ribs stuck out like jagged fingers beneath my skin. Bruises bloomed like rot—deep, ugly blue. Scars crisscrossed every surface.
But one scar stood out.
A brutal, thick gash ran from my right shoulder down to my left thigh. At least four fingers wide, with stitches still hanging like worms in flesh.
'That one… I remember.' How could I forget that day.
The day my step-parents tried to cut me in half with a chainsaw.
Drunk off their asses, soaked in alcohol of high quality and rage of unknown.
When they drink, they don't just hit. They hunt like a monsters.
'How I survived that night… still a damn mystery.' Because science says, that i should've died. Heaven, even God would have probably looked away.
'And yet, here I am.'
"sigh"
I sighed and pulled a long black shirt over my nude frame.
'Can't be wandering naked.' not that modesty matters in this house, since my parents and their children's have seen everything, touched everything, felt everything.
I stepped out of the room, dragging my aching body down the hallway.
That's when I felt it.
A cold shiver, It felt wrong.
It was the kind of cold that crawls down your spine and whispers in your ear that you're not alone.
I turned around. Empty.
Too empty.
The hallway was silent.
Too silent.
'Was someone just here?' i thought, scanning the hallways
For a second, I considered checking it out.
Then it hit me:
'This is exactly how side characters die in horror movies.'
With that logic firmly in place, I limped off toward the kitchen.
What I didn't know… was that something was following me.
And this moment—this quiet, aching, cursed morning—was the first time I would ever come in contact withit.
I just wouldn't remember it.