My Life is Horrific Chapter 8 — The True Shine (Patreon)

[Day 2 survived]

[Achievements:]

[Achievement Unlocked: V-Card Revoked]

You didn't just take someone's virginity you wrecked that tight, untouched hole. She'll never forget that night for as long as she lives. (She's dead). 

[Achievement Unlocked: Legendary Encounter]

You came face-to-face with Jason Voorhez an endgame boss that you had the luck to encounter early. 

[Achievement Unlocked: Legendary Ass-Kicking Received]

You actually fought the legendary enemy instead of running like a smart person. Jason turned you into its personal punching bag, ripping chunks out of you while your screams made great background music. At least you got a few swings in before he destroyed you. Still for managing to damage a legendary enemy you get the achievement. 

[Achievement Unlocked: Heroic Sacrifice (Gone Wrong)]

You nobly sacrificed yourself so your friends could escape. How touching and dramatic! Plot twist: they got brutally murdered 30 seconds later anyway. Thanks for buying them those precious extra moments of false hope before they died.

[Achievement Unlocked: Total Friend Annihilation]

You lost every single friend in the most graphic, scream-filled, organ-spilling ways possible. Were this another universe you might go on to become a superhero, sadly the only thing you'll get with this achievement is survivors guilt. And a kickass reward. 

[Rewards:]

[NZT-48 x1]

[Advanced Skill: Handguns]

[Mastered: Singing]

[Advanced Skill: CQC] (Skill Upgraded)

[$100,000] (Tax Free)

_________________________________

What the fuck? 

That single thought punched through the darkness first as my eyelids fluttered open and the world swam back into hazy, blurry focus around me. 

I was lying on the cold wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs, when I tried to push myself up my body refused to cooperate. My arms trembled uselessly beneath me, and every small twitch sent fresh waves of pain through my muscles. 

Everything came back in fragments. The machete ripping into me, the way my guts had felt like they were turning to mush, the black void that had swallowed me whole. 

I should have been gone. 

I had died. 

Yet here I was. 

It started as soon as i started to properly wake up first as a throbbing burn in my abdomen, spreading outward in a sharp pain that clawed up through my chest and down into my legs until it became the most horrendous thing I had ever experienced, worse than anything my eighteen-year-old brain could have imagined. It felt like red-hot pokers twisting inside my organs, shredding muscle and flesh all over again, and my mouth dropped open on its own as an involuntary scream ripped out of me. "FUCCCCCKKKKK!!!! OH FUCK AHHHHHHH!!!" I screamed. 

But the scream choked off almost immediately as hot blood surged up my throat, filling my mouth and turning the sound into a gurgling mess. 

I coughed violently, my whole body convulsing, and spat out a thick spray of crimson that splattered across the floor inches from my face, droplets landing on my lips and chin while I gasped and wheezed. 

I had no idea what the hell was happening. One second there had been nothing but cold emptiness, and now this pain was tearing me apart from the inside out. All I knew was that I hurt, god I hurt so fucking bad, and every breath only brought more blood bubbling up to drown the cries I couldn't stop.

Before another scream could tear free, I heard the soft shuffling sound of bare feet sliding carefully across the blood-slick floor nearby. Then a trembling hand clamped down hard over my mouth, pressing my lips shut against the sticky palm and muffling any noise I might make.

"Sh-shut up, James... p-please, you gotta be quiet right now," Claire breathed, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "He's still here, okay? I heard him moving around upstairs just a minute ago... don't make a sound or he'll come straight back for us... I'm begging you, just... just stay quiet for both of us, alright? We can't let him know you're alive.... please..."

I still screamed into her palm anyway, though luckily the sound came out muffled, while my body thrashed weakly beneath her grip. 

Slowly, so slowly, my vision started to clear as the fog lifted, and I finally saw her hovering over me. Claire was covered in blood, streaks of it matted through her long hair and smeared across every inch of her exposed skin, and she was practically naked, her bikini top hanging off by one thin strap so that one breast was completely bare. 

The bottom half of her bikini was torn and dangling loosely around one thigh, leaving her smooth, shaved pussy fully visible, her toned ass cheek smeared red where she must have fallen or crawled through the mess. She looked terrified and broken, her blue eyes wide with terror as she stared down at me. 

I forced myself to calm down, breathing hard through my nose against her hand while I looked around the wrecked living room. The memories slammed back into place now. 

Jason. 

The machete. 

The way he had stabbed me over and over until everything went black. When I glanced down at my own chest, it was absolutely covered in blood. 

Why wasn't I dead?

Panic surged through me and I reached up with one shaky hand, rubbing frantically at the mess, smearing it across my skin as I tried to see the damage. There they were, three deep stab wounds in my gut. 

Except... they weren't staying that way. Right in front of my eyes the wounds began to close if at a snails pace. The pain eased just a fraction, still horrible but no longer blinding, and I watched in stunned silence as the holes shrank smaller and smaller, but it looked like it was take a while for them to close properly.

Claire saw it too. Her blue eyes went huge, locking onto my chest while her hand stayed pressed over my mouth, her whole body tensed above me. "You're... you're like me?" she whispered, her voice cracking with confusion and something like relief mixed with total disbelief. 

She leaned closer, her bare breast brushing my shoulder accidentally. "Holy shit, James, I thought you were gone for good... I saw him stab you like three times and throw you down here and I crawled back because I couldn't just leave you... but then he got Cassie and then I felt it happening to me too after he chased me down the stairs... my leg got sliced open and it just... it just started healing on its own. What the fuck is going on with us? Are we like... freaks or something? I don't understand any of this—"

She cut herself off as the heavy footsteps suddenly echoed from upstairs, each one a deep THUD that vibrated through the floorboards and sent fresh terror spiking down my spine. 

Claire's face went pale beneath the blood, her free hand flying to her lips in a shushing motion. "Quiet," she hissed, her eyes darting toward the staircase. "Don't make another sound, okay? Just... just play dead. Lie there like you're still gone. I'm gonna do the same." With that she pulled her hand away from my mouth and dropped down beside me on the bloody floor, arranging her nearly naked body into a limp, lifeless sprawl.

I did the same, though it was way easier for me because my body still felt like lead and every tiny movement sent fresh pain lancing through my healing gut. I let my head loll to the side, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, trying to slow my breathing until it was shallow and ragged like a corpse's. 

The footsteps grew louder, descending the stairs one heavy step at a time, each THUD sending vibrations through the wood and into my back where I lay pressed against the floor. My heart hammered so loud I was sure he could hear it, but I didn't dare move. Claire's body was right next to mine, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her blood-streaked skin and hear the tiny, terrified whimpers she was fighting to hold back.

Jason walked into the room like death itself given form, his massive frame filling the doorway at the bottom of the stairs as he lumbered down the last few steps. The hockey mask was still cracked and splattered with old blood, the machete dragging behind him with a soft scrape against the wood before he lifted it again. 

He paused for a moment, his head tilting slowly as if listening, then took another step forward, his huge boot coming down directly onto what was left of Max's body with a sickening wet CRUNCH. Bones snapped under the weight, his ribs collapsing inward as dark blood and fluids squirted out around the sole of his boot. 

He didn't even glance down, just kept moving, the squelch of Max's crushed torso echoing in the silence. A few feet farther and he reached Juliana's corpse still by the wall. Without warning he raised the machete in one fluid motion and brought it down in a brutal arc, the blade whistling through the air before it connected with a meaty THWACK. 

Her head came off clean, rolling across the floor with a series of wet thuds until it stopped near the overturned cooler, eyes still wide and glassy in death. He stepped over the decapitated body, whole his boots landed in the fresh pool of blood with another heavy SPLAT, and moved toward Maxine's crumpled form near the kitchen counter. Another swing, another THWACK that sent her severed head bouncing away into the shadows. 

Every second stretched into an eternity of pure terror. I lay there frozen, barely breathing, the coppery smell of fresh blood so thick it coated my tongue. Claire was rigid beside me, I could feel the tension pouring off her in waves, her fingers twitching against the wood before she forced them still. 

Then it happened. 

A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her lips.

"Mmph..."

Jason stopped dead. His massive head turned slowly toward us. The machete hung at his side, dripping steadily onto the floor with soft plip... plip... plip sounds. He took one step closer, then another, his boots leaving bloody prints as he loomed over our "bodies." 

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would give me away. Claire's breathing hitched beside me, her whole body trembling with the effort of staying still. For one endless moment he just stood there, staring down.

Then, without any warning, he moved like lightning. One huge hand shot down and grabbed Claire by the hair, yanking her up off the floor in a single motion. Her eyes flew open and she let out a piercing scream that shattered the silence. "No! Help me! No, no, no, please don't let him take me! Ahhhh!" Her legs kicked wildly, her bare feet flailing as he slung her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. "No! Please! I don't want to die! Help!" Her screams echoed as Jason turned and lumbered back toward the door, 

carrying her away into the darkness of the forest.

I tried to force myself up, my arms shaking violently as I pushed against the bloody floor, every muscle screaming in protest while fresh pain flared through my still-healing gut. 

My vision swam and my elbows buckled, sending me crashing back down with a weak groan. I couldn't move. I was too weak, too drained, the world tilting around me as black spots danced at the edges of my sight.

Hours slipped away in that nothing. 

When I finally stirred again, the pain had receded to a dull, throbbing ache deep in my gut, no longer the white-hot knife that had torn me apart earlier, and my limbs felt heavy but responsive enough that I could shift my weight and push myself up from the 

 flooor. 

My hands pressed into the congealing blood beneath me while I braced one knee and then the other, rising as the room spun for a few seconds before settling, I swayed there in the middle of the slaughterhouse that used to be the living room.

Something primal and feral took over then, a gnawing hunger that clawed up from the pit of my stomach and drowned out every other thought, turning my mind into a red-tinged blur where nothing mattered except feeding the empty void inside me. 

I lurched forward, tripping over Max's crumpled body with a wet squelch under my bare foot, nearly face-planting into the mess before I caught myself on the edge of the overturned coffee table and kept staggering toward the kitchen, my breaths coming in ragged gasps as I slammed into the counter and yanked open the fridge door with both hands. 

I tore into whatever I could reach, ripping open a package of raw chicken breasts and sinking my teeth straight into the cold meat. I grabbed a block of cheddar next, shoving chunks into my mouth, then found a pack of bacon and devoured it raw slice by slice, while I moved to the cupboards, pulling down boxes of cereal and pouring handfuls straight into my mouth, crumbs scattering across the counter as I chased it with a carton of milk that I chugged until it spilled over my chest.

I lost track of time in that frenzy, moving from one thing to another in a continuous flow while my body demanded more and more, tearing into a package of ground beef with my bare hands and stuffing it past my lips, before I dropped to my knees at one point and raided the lower shelves for anything else I could find, a jar of peanut butter that I scooped out with my fingers, a loaf of bread that I ripped apart and crammed down, even a couple of apples that I bit into core and all. 

Nearly an hour passed like that, until the fog in my head finally lifted and I came back to myself with a jolt, standing there in the middle of the kitchen with a raw chicken drumstick clutched in one fist.

I dropped the drumstick with a soft plop and almost gagged right there as the reality of what I had just done hit me full force. "What the fuck am I doing?" I muttered out loud while I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

I pushed myself up from where I had been kneeling, as I rose slowly and turned to take in the full horror of the room around me, and the sight of it all nearly made me throw up everything I had just forced down. 

Blood coated every surface, the bodies of my friends were twisted in unnatural angles where Jason had left them, and the coppery stench hung so much in the air that it coated the back of my throat. My friends, the same ones I had been laughing and drinking and fucking with just hours ago, were gone in the most brutal ways imaginable, and the weight of that loss crashed down on me all at once. 

I felt my chest tighten as I stumbled a few steps forward and pressed a hand to the counter to steady myself, fighting the urge to break down completely while tears pricked at the corners of my vision. The devastation of it clawed at me until I had to look away, swallowing hard against the sob that threatened to rip free.

I forced myself to move through the house anyway, until I reached the stairs and I found Casey there, sprawled halfway across the landing like she had tried to crawl away at the very end. Her one-piece swimsuit was torn open down the front, blood pooled beneath her, and her wide blue eyes stared up at nothing with that same scared expression she had when I last saw her. 

The sight of her, broke something inside me completely. 

I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands hovering uselessly over her cold skin while the breakdown hit like a freight train. "Fuck this," I choked out between gasps. "Fuck this entire goddamn world! I hate being born here, I hate every second of this nightmare! Whoever the hell sent me to this place, you sadistic piece of shit, I hope you rot for putting me through this! These were my friends! They didn't deserve any of it!"

The words poured out of me in a continuous, broken stream while I stayed there on my knees, my fists clenched against the bloody floor. Then I remembered Claire, Jason had grabbed her by the hair and slung her over his shoulder, and that single thought cut through the breakdown like a knife. 

She was still alive. 

For some reason Jason had taken her, which meant she was out there somewhere, probably enduring things I couldn't even let myself picture.

Though the thought of going after him caused the fear to hit me full force, especially after the way he had turned me into his personal punching bag, stabbing me over and over until my insides turned into mush. That same memory made me pause and look down at my own body, the wounds had closed into faint pink lines that no longer hurt. 

How the hell had I survived that? 

My shining ability? 

I had thought it was just psychometry, the weird flashes I got when I touched people, but Claire had said I was like her right Jason took her, and now my body had healed itself like some kind of wolverine shit. It didn't make sense, two completely unrelated powers tangled up in one person, unless... I sat back on my heels, mind racing as the pieces clicked together. 

Wednesday. 

I had touched her that one time at the school library, and felt that electric shock jolt through me. And Claire too, the same spark when our skin met at her house. Those weren't random. Was I absorbing their abilities somehow? Was my shining ability power absorption. And if the same thing had happened when I touched Carrie earlier in the week, did that mean I had her telekinesis now too? Holy shit, that could actually save us right now if I could figure out how to use it.

I concentrated hard, staring at a shattered beer bottle across the room and willing it to lift, every muscle in my body tensing while I pictured it floating up into my hand. Nothing happened. Not even a twitch. I tried again, pushing with my mind until my temples throbbed, but the bottle stayed exactly where it was. 

In truth I didn't know the first thing about how the shining actually worked. I had never purposely tried to activate any of the abilities before. They had just... happened. I let out a frustrated breath and rubbed my face, smearing more blood across my cheek, before deciding I needed to get my shit together.

I pushed myself up slowly from the floor beside Casey, wnd walked down the hall toward the bathroom, stripping off what remained of my ruined trunks along the way so that I stood completely naked by the time I stepped into the shower stall. 

The hot water blasted on with a hiss, steaming up the glass while I stood under the spray and let it cascade over my head, watching the red swirl down the drain as I scrubbed my skin raw with a bar of soap, lathering my chest and arms and then lower, running my hands over the fresh scars on my stomach where the machete had gone in. 

The water felt good, almost soothing, rinsing away the layers of gore and leaving me clean for the first time since the nightmare started, when I finally stepped out I dried off quickly before digging through my suitcase for actual clothes, pulling on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie.

I walked back into the hallway when my eyes caught on something metallic glinting at the bottom of the stairs. My car keys. I descended carefully, one hand on the railing as I reached down and scooped them up. 

I could get out of here right now. 

Just walk out the front door. 

Climb into my car and wipe my hands of this whole bloody mess, drive until the sun came up and never look back. 

The temptation pulled at me, whispering that I had already done enough, that I was just a kid who had barely survived once and probably wouldn't again. But then I thought about Claire, her wounds healed the same way mine did, which meant Jason could keep hurting her for hours or days without her dying. 

 The idea of leaving her to that kind of endless suffering made my stomach twist. I slipped the keys into my pocket with a heavy sigh, muttering under my breath, "Damn it," while shaking my head at my own stupidity. I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave her here.

Instead I turned and headed back upstairs to the storage room, punching in the code with steady fingers this time before pulling open the gun safe and grabbing a compact handgun, I checked the magazine and chambered a round with a click. I walked back downstairs. "Okay, round two, motherfucker."

(AN: So James True Shining ability is revealed. He is basically Delsin Rowe from infamous or Peter Petrelli or Amazo or rogue idk. Anyway they're inferior versions of the main power that's why it took a few hours for him to heal from lethal wounds and why he needed to consume a lot of calories after. But yeah a bit OP. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)