Cycle of Death - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I moved silently through the dormitory, searching for a weapon.

Since this was a vacant dorm building with no residents, there was naturally nothing to be found.

I didn’t dare make too much noise, fearing I’d be caught before I could even act. After all, the other side had a knife.

In the end, I had to rip a steel guardrail off one of the beds to use as a weapon.

My phone screen lit up. I tapped it and saw 503 giving orders in the group chat:

“They’ve arrived! Everyone, move! You must be quiet!”

Clutching the steel pipe in one hand, I cautiously pushed open the dormitory door and stepped out.

Fortunately, the corridor outside was empty.

But I could hear footsteps.

I was hiding in Room 211 at the time, while the Platform was over by 201.

The fact that I could hear footsteps meant someone was rushing over there.

I stayed hunched over as I made my way down the hall, luckily avoiding everyone.

Upon reaching 201, I hesitated for a moment. To my surprise, the door suddenly swung open, and a voice drifted out: “Is that the student from 205?”

I tightened my grip on the steel pipe and replied, “Yes.”

“I’m the one from 503. It looks like… it really is just the two of us.”

He stepped out of the room, and only then did I truly trust him.

He was also holding a steel pipe; it seemed this was the best weapon either of us could find.

He pointed toward the dark stairwell and said, “That window is the only entrance to the Platform. The other side of the Platform has a wall two or three meters high, making it impossible to climb out. Those two are dead meat.”

“Understood. We just need to hold that spot.”

I gripped my steel pipe even tighter.

“No matter who comes out, hit them with everything you’ve got!”

We crept into the stairwell and reached the window, taking up positions on either side to set an ambush.

As soon as we got close, we heard groans coming from outside.

They were horrific.

Someone was dying.

Shortly after, the sound of footsteps echoed from outside the window.

It was the sound of two people walking.

We both knew that what was about to happen would be nothing short of madness.

When the killer’s upper body leaned in through the window, neither 503 nor I hesitated for a second.

Because he was wearing black. Because he was wearing a mask.

Our steel pipes slammed down with brute force!

There was no hesitation.

The target didn’t even have time to scream before he tumbled straight inside.

I repeatedly raised the pipe and brought it down, relentlessly striking the back of his head.

With every blow, I could feel the sound of his skull shattering.

Thick blood began to pool out.

This display clearly terrified the other killer outside the window. 503 and I locked eyes, and he was the first to climb out the window.

I followed close behind as we chased him onto the Platform.

The killer in black held up his knife, slowly backing away.

Behind him lay two corpses, their bodies mostly stained red with blood.

They must have been 404 and 312, the ones we had inadvertently sent to their deaths.

Perhaps provoked by the sight of the bodies, 503 and I charged forward like madmen, giving him no opening.

As he retreated, he tried to communicate with us.

“Wait, don’t move yet! You can’t kill me! I can tell you…”

However, I completely ignored what he wanted to say or what he was saying.

503’s steel pipe knocked the knife out of his hand.

My pipe smashed directly into his head.

He staggered back, eyes wide, seemingly unable to accept this reality.

After all, he was a murderer; he probably never expected us to be even more brutal than him.

“Die, die, die!”

I growled under my breath, continuing to swing the steel pipe wildly at his head.

After taking several more hits, he finally collapsed.

503 rushed up and delivered a few more strikes with his pipe until the man had completely stopped breathing.

It was only then that I realized I was gasping for air, utterly exhausted.

503 was the same, taking deep, ragged breaths.

I had to lean over to catch my breath, feeling a wave of nausea from having killed someone for the first time. I felt like I was going to vomit.

But it was precisely because I leaned over that I saw an incredibly terrifying scene-

The mask of the “killer” we had just slaughtered had been knocked off by the pipe.

Under the faint moonlight, I saw his face.

He was… me!