Why is my Isekai in the Slice of Life anime was become a Horror Story?

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Every Room's Clock is Absolutely Accurate



Chapter 10: Every Room's Clock is Absolutely Accurate

What is this? What the hell is happening?!

The current situation had completely surpassed the boundaries of imagination.

The pounding on the doors grew heavier, accompanied by the monotonous, emotionless cries of "Open the door." The entire hallway shook violently, as if struck by an earthquake. The dizziness radiating from Takakai's mind blended with the chaos, weaving an overwhelming symphony of terror.

Takahashi Takakai knew well that in an unforeseen crisis, panic was useless.

Flustered reactions and rash decisions would neither evoke mercy from an enemy nor slow their actions. Such responses couldn't pause an urgent and dangerous situation—this wasn't a game with a pause button. The faster he could calm himself, the greater his chances of devising a solution and escaping the nightmare.

But what could he do?

The most daring experience he'd ever had in life was standing up for bullied classmates during school. Back then, he'd wielded a broom smeared with dung to fight off five delinquents, earning him the nickname "Hero of the Dung Broom."

No one had taught him how to deal with these incomprehensible horrors. Especially when the rule sheet in his hand had expired two years ago—its effectiveness now unverified. Not even having two seemingly capable high school girls as teammates could magically produce a solution for this madness.

To be honest, the rules stated they must not respond. But who could have predicted these monsters could communicate through thoughts?! Was the person who wrote the rules hiding vital information, or did the rules of this bizarre place evolve and change every single day?

"Why... are they knocking on the living room door?"

By now, Maki was entirely panicked. She stared back at the living room door, which was cracked and on the verge of collapse.

She couldn't comprehend it.

Just a second ago, these things had been pounding on the main hallway door. How had they suddenly made their way into the living room to start knocking simultaneously on both the hallway and living room doors?

None of her knowledge or experience could make sense of this situation, nor could it guide her actions.

It was only now that she truly understood what "Horror Story Rules" meant.

Crrack!

A hole split open in the living room's wooden door.

Blood began to seep out of it.

A foul stench filled the air.

It was as if the living room, which the three of them had inspected mere moments ago, had transformed into an abattoir overflowing with bloodied remains.

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

The scream seemed to echo directly beside their ears.

It was as though three invisible figures were standing right next to them, yelling into their faces.

In that warped sound, their vision began to blur.

It felt like they could see three utterly shattered figures crammed behind the door, endlessly groaning and wailing in unbearable agony.

Bang!

The wooden door twisted completely out of shape, teetering on the brink of collapse.

The hallway had also become grotesque, like a distorted funhouse mirror, its shape unrecognizable.

And they—three people huddled on the floor—seemed to be warping too. Every cell, every inch of skin, muscle, and bone appeared to slowly contort into grotesque forms.

"This… what is this…"

Shinomiya Kaguya braced herself, trying several times to stand but failing.

Since the moment the creatures outside the door began their transformation, the three of them in the hallway had gradually lost control of their own bodies.

The world around them grew more and more distorted, like a hallucination, and their limbs seemed to lose strength with every passing moment.

The deafening noise in their heads only amplified, roaring like an endless swarm of invisible figures surrounding the three of them.

It was as if the hallway had become packed with these unseen presences, crowding them, making it impossible to move.

One after another, they appeared...

Invisible, inaudible, imperceptible...

Forever... forever wandering here... unable to rest...

"Ugh..."

Shinomiya Kaguya, the one with the sharpest hearing among the three, collapsed to the floor with a painful groan.

This 17-year-old girl had never faced such a terrifying and bizarre sight before, and with the fact that she had heard the pounding on the door in the hallway before Takahashi Takakai and Shijo Maki went out, the influence hit her hardest. She could barely summon the strength to support her body.

Even so, she instinctively clutched the wall clock tightly in her hand, holding onto the only clock in room 208, which they had taken from the end of the hallway, not letting it go.

"Sh... Kagu...ya..."

A faint voice called her name.

Amid the screams of agony, it sounded as though someone whispered in her ear.

Then, suddenly, a hand reached out from the side and try to grabbed the clock from her hand.

Kaguya jerked her head around in shock, only to see Takahashi Takakai, his face beginning to crack open from the middle.

The scene was something that could not possibly be seen in the real world.

Kaguya could clearly see Takahashi Takakai's face split open, his cheeks stretching out like the pages of a book, pulling apart in both directions.

Beneath the skin, blood vessels still flowed, and the ivory-white brain seemed to be moving slightly. His tongue was cut in half and coiled, and even the muscles around the cut twitched noticeably. It was so vivid that she could see the saliva dripping from it.

Was... was this a hallucination?

She looked down at her own hand, clutching the wall clock, and her skin seemed to peel away, revealing dark, fresh flesh beneath.

It didn't hurt.

But it seemed... as though the pain was becoming clearer.

As she realized this, as she discovered it, as she understood it, the pain began to spread, growing throughout her body.

"..."

She couldn't make a sound.

In the silent hallway, there were no sounds at all.

The girl couldn't produce any noise.

It felt as if she could see her body becoming transparent.

She saw parts of her body begin to tear apart, to break away, as she watched herself slowly crumble into broken pieces, large and small.

The pain became sharper.

Her thoughts grew dimmer.

She couldn't make a sound, only watch in frozen silence as it all happened.

She watched herself, gradually heading toward death.

Was this what had happened in the hallway outside...?

Clink—

But it seemed she could still hear something.

The sound came from beside her, from very close beside her.

She struggled to shift her gaze downward.

She saw an arm, severed.

An arm that was nearly completely detached, with only a small patch of skin still clinging to a shattered skeleton, almost entirely broken apart.

She saw two fingers.

Gently, they touched the hour hand of the clock.

Click —

The sound rang clearly in her ear.

The hour hand of the clock seemed to shift.

Just a little, only slightly.

...

"Ugh!"

Suddenly, Kaguya's eyes widened as she sat up abruptly from the filthy, tattered bed.

She turned her head and saw Takakai lying beside her, panting, sweat dripping down his forehead.

No more strange knocking sounds, no more voices.

No more broken bodies, no more numbness.

Everything felt like an unreal nightmare, and as she woke up, it seemed everything had returned to the beginning.

"What... did you do just now...?"

Kaguya, having realized something, but still unable to believe the truth, couldn't help but whisper the question.

"Each clock in the rooms... they are absolutely accurate, right?"

Takakai struggled to sit up, glancing at the rule sheet placed on the nightstand beside him and at the kitchen, which no longer had a door nearby. He then stood up, leaning against the wall beside him until he was steady.

He had turned back time.

Back to the moment when he and Kaguya first woke up in this room, when they first heard that strange sound.

Now, they were still in room 204.

Now, everything that had just happened... had not yet happened.

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