Chapter 56: CUT. Like a Russian Doll (1)
by fnovelpia
“……Uh.”
As the damp sensation soaked her thigh, the narrator regained consciousness.
The liquid that had fallen on her thigh was saliva, which had drooled from her parted mouth.
She tried to stop it, but she couldn’t.
Her mouth remained open, gagged as it was.
She lifted her head. It was pitch dark around her.
It wasn’t a completely sealed room; rather, her eyes were covered by a blindfold.
She tried to move.
But she could only squirm like a caterpillar, tightly bound to a chair.
“Uh. Uh uh…”
The sounds she managed to utter were muffled by the gag before forming into words.
She wondered where she was.
It certainly wasn’t the studio.
She retraced her memories.
The narrator had been in the middle of a mission.
There were no colleagues or superiors in the underground studio, only two guards and herself.
A large screen on the wall displayed the image of an axe murderer who had successfully completed Scene #9.
She had been supposed to inform him of the ‘truth’ as a reward for achieving his objective.
But then, unexpectedly, an intruder appeared.
It was a blazing gorilla.
“What’s the hottest fruit in the world?!”
A voice of a mad clown.
In the blink of an eye, both guards were dead.
“Heavenly peach[1]──────────!”
The narrator quickly hid herself.
Was it an attack by a meta actor[2]?
But that was impossible.
If there had been any sudden actions, the Alpha Team, which was responsible for the meta actors, would have sent a warning…
Amidst the confusion, someone struck her hard on the back of her head.
She lost consciousness.
And now.
She was bound, gagged, with her mouth and eyes covered, tied to a chair.
Someone approached and removed the blindfold.
The narrator squinted her eyes.
Three people stood before her.
A doll mask. A hockey mask. A Ghostface mask.
She knew who they were despite the masks.
The one in the hockey mask reached out and removed the gag.
Sticky saliva that had filled her mouth cascaded down like a waterfall.
The narrator coughed.
“Cough… Why are you wearing masks? I already know who you are.”
Yeoreum removed the hockey mask.
The club president with the doll mask and Yuna Yeon in the Ghostface mask also removed theirs.
The idea to kidnap someone from the underground facility was Yuna Yeon’s.
It was a crazy plan, but it succeeded far too easily.
This place was makeshift.
In the center, a young woman with silver hair was tied to a chair.
It was the narrator.
She was both directing the murderer and serving as a commentator announcing chaos to the audience.
“What’s your name.”
“You already know.”
The narrator remained calm.
Her tone was natural, as if she had received a script and rehearsed in advance.
Her cold gaze was not wavering.
They held the videotape up to her face.
“You must know about this video.”
“Maybe.”
“Tell me what you’re up to.”
“I can’t tell you.”
Calmly, the narrator responded as saliva trickled down her slender chin.
Yeoreum shifted his gaze from her face to the tape.
“I’ve watched this video dozens of times. In order to uncover the truth, I’ve studied every horror movie I could find.”
“That’s commendable. I thought you only thought about murder all the time.”
“As time passed, I realized many things. Especially about Reiko Ishikawa. Her family home has never been shown in any movie.
No information about her background or relationships is known either.”
“Because she’s a mysterious character. She maintains her identity as a spiritual medium…”
“No. There have been plenty of hints that she’s not just an ordinary human.”
Yeoreum pointed at the narrator’s wrist.
The small cufflinks on the shirt sleeve sparkled.
‘The “W” emblem.’
“That ‘W’ stands not only for ‘Wes’ but also for ‘Witch.'”
Their gazes clashed in mid-air.
“You are witches.”
The narrator remained expressionless.
“That’s preposterous. To suddenly call me a witch. That’s a leap.”
“In a horror movie, that would be a natural progression. Especially in a crazy horror movie that treats plot plausibility like dog food.”
“You seem to be unable to distinguish between film and reality.”
“Film and reality, huh? The existence of ‘W’ means one of two things: either the film is part of reality, or reality is part of the film.”
“……”
“Tell me, narrator. Which is it?”
The narrator then clamped her mouth shut.
They pressed her, but she remained as she was, unwilling to reveal the truth easily.
It was as expected. The club president stepped forward.
“Step aside. I’ll try hypnosis.”
She pulled out a coin tied to a string and started to swing it.
Of course, it was ineffective.
She was not the kind of person to be shaken.
She was as unmovable as a stone Buddha.
Yuna Yeon sighed.
“If you’re going to be this uncooperative… I really didn’t want to have to bring this out…”
With a menacing prelude, Yuna Yeon went over to the workbench and brought back a strange device.
The narrator showed no signs of disturbance.
“Are you intending to torture me? Go ahead. Pull out my nails, stick rods in my eyes. If you insist, proceed to s*xual torture.”
Yuna Yeon set down the device she was carrying.
It was a leather-made head restraint and a thin metal expander, crafted by the skilled club president.
They placed the head restraint over the narrator’s head and fitted the expander into her beautiful eyes.
“So, you plan to inflict pain on my eyeballs.”
The narrator had already resigned herself but did not lose her resolve.
She was prepared to face any kind of cruel torture.
However, no horrific torture involving gouging out eyes or burning occurred.
Instead, a small compact TV was placed in front of her.
The club president grinned and held the narrator’s shoulders.
“What do you take us for? We don’t do things like torture!”
“Then…”
“We’re about to show you a fun movie now. A film by the world-famous director ‘Uwe Boll.'”
“Uwe… Boll……?”
For the first time, the narrator’s eyes wavered.
She had been prepared to endure any torture, but she crumbled like a house of cards at the mention of ‘Uwe Boll.’
The TV screen lit up.
As the movie’s opening played, her long eyelashes trembled.
Her complexion turned deathly pale.
“No… not that, please…!”
The narrator pleaded.
Her dignified composure was instantly shattered.
Uwe Boll—a legendary director who had made a mark in the film industry.
The issue was that this mark was the color of dung.
No sane person could watch a Uwe Boll movie for more than three minutes.
It would cause their brain cells to commit suicide.
True hell was unfolding on the TV screen.
The narrator tried to close her eyes, but she couldn’t. The expander held her eyelids open.
The head restraint prevented her from turning away; she was firmly tied to the chair, unable to thrash.
The club president smirked evilly.
“You know, humans blink about 15 times a minute.”
“No, no, please! Let me go!!”
“But it would be a pity to miss even a single scene of a movie every minute, especially a masterpiece by Uwe Boll. So I’ll make sure you don’t miss anything.”
The expander did not even allow blinking.
To prevent dry eyes, eye drops were dripped into the narrator’s eyes.
Clear tears streamed down.
Her eyes, fixed on the TV screen, helplessly took in Uwe Boll.
It was known as the Ludovico Technique—a venerable method passed down from <A Clockwork Orange>.
After the opening passed and the movie began in earnest, the narrator screamed out.
“Just kill me! Please, just kill me!! Kill Me!!!!!!!!!”
“Don’t worry. I only selected films from Uwe Boll’s filmography that are based on video games~.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!”
A terrifying scream that seemed to tear apart the room filled the space.
“No, no, no… I don’t want this! I, I, I made a mistake…!!!!”
She belatedly pleaded for mercy.
It was futile.
Her vision was overwhelmed by Uwe Boll.
“…It seems she won’t be able to open her mouth anytime soon.”
Yuna Yeon shook her head.
The narrator foamed at the mouth and fainted.
After watching three consecutive masterpieces by Uwe Boll, it seemed as if half her brain had necrotized.
Despite the extreme torment, the narrator ultimately did not divulge any information.
The club president removed the expander from the narrator’s eyes.
“No. She’s about to talk.”
“Why are you so sure…?”
“I used backmasking and subliminal messaging.”
Backmasking involves inserting reversed audio clips.
Subliminals involve flashing specific images so rapidly they are barely perceptible.
The Uwe Boll movies shown to the narrator had the voice saying “Tell the truth” backmasked into them, and appropriate subliminals were also inserted.
However, whether it would really be effective was questionable.
Given that the club president had only been engaging in crazy antics up to now, it was rather suspicious.
“What if they just completely break down?”
“Then I’ll use them as my slave… no, my personal actor~.”
Suddenly, the slumped narrator spoke.
“Alpha Team… is the rescue… still… far away……”
They muttered like someone who had been drained by a truck-sized mosquito.
Their eyes were unfocused and bleary. Saliva dribbled from their mouth.
It was a disgraceful state, unbecoming of their elegant and haughty beauty.
Yeoreum approached and asked.
“Now, tell us the truth.”
“……”
“It seems you want to watch another one.”
“No, no, please…! I’ll talk!!”
The narrator spoke urgently.
“Reality… is connected…!”
“What?”
Saliva and tears had pooled on the floor, forming a puddle.
A single tear drop fell into it.
“Like Russian dolls……”
[1. The two words sound the same]
[2. meta actor was in english in the raws]
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