“Over the abyss”

Hello again. Not so long ago, I published my pen test here, the story “captivity”. The story was met quite positively and now I lay out the beginning of my new story (or something more?). I ask you to read and express your opinion regarding written.
P.S. I was inspired to write Alan Wake, but I will not plugat the plot. This in no way applies to Alan Vake.

(There was a Flash player, but since 2020, Flash has not been supported by browsers)

__________________________________________________________________________________
Prologue

The darkness around has become almost tangible. It got colder. The wind suddenly collapsed, striving to climb into the ear sinks, whispering something with strange whistling voices.
Who I am?
An obscure light dawn ahead. He blurred in front of his eyes, merging with paints with darkness around. The voices brought by the wind became louder. Sounds circled around me, stunning and scaring at the same time. The glow in the distance became closer, obscure contours … figures began to guess in it? The contours were formed into silhouettes. Dazzling white haze of light suddenly rushed directly to my face.

Who said that?

The voices approached close. Their cries were indistinguishable, but they stunned. Became loud to ultrasound. I tried to close my ears with my palms.

Stand. Face? I blindly held out my hands to my eyes, hoping to feel … My fingers passed through imaginary eyes like a knife through butter. What a for.
Horror began to whip my mind with swift waves, when suddenly the darkness merged with light into one rushed to me, consciousness flashed a thousand lights.

-Wake up, Steve. Time has come.

-Steve! Druzhok, wake up. We arrived, – the voice of Brianna, my wife, gently sang over his ear. The most expensive person for me.
-Okay, dear, – I reluctantly opened my eyes. – Already arrived?
My wife’s beautiful, deep eyes looked at me:
-Yes, honey. Look around.
I looked out through the foggy bus window, on which we arrived at our new house. A number of old people who were rushing out and the absence of residents of houses stretched along the street. Rain water drained through the destroyed tile. Windows broken and tightly stabbed with rotten boards. Rains here often went. The lead-gray sky, covered with gray clouds, did not pass sunlight, so colorless gray reigned on the streets.
I sighed. Dwear already rolled to consciousness, dragged him into a tight knot of depression and apathy ..

My name is Steve. Steve Hunt. I was born and raised in New York, where at twenty-three years he became a journalist. I liked the work, the articles were written easily. Praise from the editor. Big salary. Big apartment in the center. Young wife. Happy marriage.
Everything collapsed in one year. This happened a gloomy evening of Thursday. I was traveling from work by car, listening to my favorite music. Suddenly ahead, two lights flared up in the blackness of the road. I did not have time to turn.
A blow, a roar, darkness, enveloping the consciousness that extinguished it as a light of a candle.
I woke up in the hospital, the condition was not the best, but I still got off easily, then I said to myself. Hand fracture, several ribs. Everything seemed to cost.
The worst was ahead. I started nightmares and headaches tormented. At night I was afraid to fall asleep, fearing what I would see in a dream.
But the most injury was most affected by my talent. The articles did not go and were not written. Those miserable similarities of my past materials did not go with them in any comparison. My glory and authority allowed to hold out for another six months. Then they fired me. More precisely, I left myself. I didn’t want to renew this flour. I was discouraged by both the boss and colleagues. But I have not seen the point of continuing to occupy someone else’s place
In all this nightmare in reality, I was able to survive only thanks to Brianne and her care. My mother and father died in a car accident when I was twenty -two. Only work saved me from complete depression. I wrote and drowned a piece of my grief in each line, while filling the void that remained in the shower after the death of the parents with each line.
But now I have lost this and that. Work at work. City outside the city. I sold my apartment, so that there would be money for arrangement in another city. But nowhere could not be strengthened and start working.
Most of all I am grateful to Brianne for the fact that she suffered all this and remained with me no matter what. Without her … I don’t know … I would just burn out in the fire of misfortunes and the collapse of my whole life.
The nightmares did not pass. I constantly woke up in the middle of the night, sat on the bed with a wet sweat from a cold sweat and a wildly pounded heart. I didn’t remember the nightmares themselves. When trying to recall night horrors, my head began to hurt hellishly, and I gave up attempts to remember.
It was strange that the doctors did not find any signs of brain injury. I was healthy, but the pain and nightmares continued to torment me. They said that the point is simply in the terror experienced during the accident. Time and lack of stress sources will cure you, they said. But in my life, stresses have become an integral part of it. There was no question of recovery.
In this town was my last chance. The publishing house of the local magazine agreed to hire me, but most likely only because of my past merits.
I came here this rainy morning. From one type of city, the inner chills made his way, but what remained for me?
A person without a future.

The owner of the Ritterhell https://nonstop-casino.co.uk/ hotel, in which I settled with Brown, turned out to be an old grumbling elder with a shock of gray hair and a terrible look. His watery eyes looked as if directly into the soul, and a slight trembling ran through his body ..
Ritterhell was an awesome sight. The building, architecture of the forties looked mysterious and frightening. Once. Now the facade was partially crumbled, the walls were in large small cracks in it.
When we arrived to settle down, it was still raining. Water veil overshadowed her eyes, distorted the shape of trees growing in the forest nearby. They looked like old, large and ugly giants, whom some dark force was forever nailed to the place. Under the gloomy canopy of the forest, we approached the entrance.
I pulled the handle, it turned out that the door was locked. I had to hit the old tree with his fist several times, and seeding steps and mumble were heard from the depths of the building:
-Yes, yes. I’m already going, dear guests. You will be at home, ”the old man whispered under his breath.
Finally scrape the key in the castle, and the door slowly opened. The owner of the hotel looked at us with an invisible look, as if we were an empty place for him:
-Hello, hello … go inside, terrible weather today, – said the old man in a whisper. – Behind me.
-Uh, hello, Mr. … We would like to rent a number from you for a while … Sorry, but what is your name? – I said bewilderedly in the back of a strange old man.
-Names … that there are names … – without looking at me, the owner answered thoughtfully. “Well, if it is so important for you, then call me Jake Breiton, yes … yes,” he finished in the affirmative, and again shook further.
-Stephen Hunt me. Mr. Breeton, could you tell us about this town? Brianna and I are my wife, here for the first time … – I tried to make a conversation with a sullen Breiton. – Just arrived, you know ..
-What to say, the city is like a city. No worse than others – the old man clearly did not want to talk and I fell silent.
The staircase on which we climbed was lined with an old thick, crimson -colored carpet. At every step, a cloud of dust rose from the carpet.
I looked back at Brianna, she was clearly depressed by the owner of the hotel and a general situation. The things around were old and in the twilight of the corridors looked terrible. Only one light bulb hung in the aisle, barely illuminating the space around him.
The old man led us to a high dusted door, thundered his huge bunch of keys and opened the entrance to the room:
-Come on. There are all amenities. Here is your key, look around while I’ll go down, ”Breuton mumbled and hastened to go into the darkness of the corridor ..
I turned on my flashlight to disperse the darkness in our room. A wide old bed was erected in the center, her legs ended with paws, in the form of bared animal muzzles. Near the wall stood a small desk, covered with a thick layer of dust. On the floor lay the same dusty carpet, so thick that the steps on it were soundless.
I came up and firmly pressed a tired and frightened wife:
-Thank you for everything, love. You will see, we’ll get it as before, let’s go home … – I whispered.
She suddenly cried, quietly, but I felt all the feelings that are now reigning in her soul, as if we were one.
Drops of rain drummed out the windows, the water tirelessly flowed down the glass, as if sympatting us and our tears.
The flows of moisture were constantly poured on the ground, and we stood, hugging, dissolving in our feelings and this autumn rain.

What are you hoping for, fool?You have lost everything and you will not return anything … go … to the light … if you do not want to fall into the darkness forever.Go to the light … go … but darkness is getting closer.She surrounds, closes the light, and you begin to take false steps … nowhere.The day is over, but the night is ahead.

***
I exhaled air with a noise, sharply sitting on the bed. My heart was beating so hard that I literally heard the blows that echoed in the room. The darkness around seemed almost tangible, black and thick as a resin. The nightmare visited me again, and I again did not remember what I saw. Maybe it is for the better.
Fear rose and fell inside me like a wave, constantly falling ashore. I have not seen a naje around me. Ignorance gave rise to horror. While in a dark room, we are most afraid of the unknown. Practical human mind does not accept anything unknown. This scares him, recalling ancient times when people were afraid of darkness and animals lurking in it. The fire saved and heated, but as soon as he went out … As the instincts were again covered with his head and forced him to zooped with fear and peer helplessly where the invisible monsters hide.
I held out my hand, hoping to feel the warmth of Brianna’s body with my fingers, but felt only a crumpled sheet. There was no Brianna. I exhaled sharply, darkness, as if sensing my horror, enveloped me even more closely. I tried to find my mobile, which I put on the bedside table, but then cried out and jerked to the side, flying off the bed on a thick carpet covering the floor. Fingers, instead of a cellular, felt for something in the linen and icy. Having clumsily rising to my feet, I pressed into a dusty porter, praying to myself to all the gods who only exist on earth. All my nature was saturated with a feeling close to a complete and uncontrolled panic. A light breeze swept around the room, nevertheless, my members. A whisper of a thousand votes, indistinguishable, but creepy came to me. It was impossible to make out anything, but I groaned quietly out of fear.
If it was a nightmare, then very believable. As if this is happening in reality. But it was necessary to do something. Run there, forward, to the exit from the bedroom? But the strange body did not allow me to calm down there. I needed a flashlight. So I will go crazy with panic, which began to enslave the mind. I took a little step to the left and foot felt something solid. At first I froze in horror, but then I found my strength and carefully reached out after him, trying not to tilt his face into darkness. The subject I felt for me turned out to be, oddly enough with a lamp. I cautiously lit her, clinging even more closely into the receptionist, fearing that I can see. The light from her illuminated the tiny space, but I was able to look around the whole room. It was empty, except for a large black object. The lamps were not enough to examine him … and he lay next to the bed. I frantically swallowed saliva, which came out painfully because of a dry throat. And gently moved towards the exit. The lamp handle glided in a sweaty arm, the legs refused to be rearranged.
Step.
Another.
Here it is … I abruptly bent in half and began to frantically puke on the carpet.
In front of me lay the mutilated corpse of that same old man, Mr. Braton, the owner of the hotel. I recognized him only by clothes, which was flooded with blood, black in the light of the lamp. From most of the face, the skin was torn off. Naked flesh thoroughly gleamed in the light. The worst of all were eyes. Black failures, when looking at which I wanted to rush away from all legs.
Eyes The worst part of a person. It reflects the soul and everything is internally, that appearance can skillfully hide. When looking into the eyes of famous psychopaths, maniacs and killers, you are struck by a natural wave of icy horror, daring from head to toe. Madness in their eyes … can drive anyone crazy.
Suddenly Breeton jerked frantically and made an inarticulate sound, I recoiled in fright. The old man was still alive. A terrible face twitched and squeezed.
-Run, guy … it’s already here.

Breeton jerked and fell silent. I was trembling with fear, but I had to go further and look for Brianna. Something terrible was happening at the hotel. What does it mean “it”? What the old man said before death? What is happening here, your mother?! I closed my eyes, swallowed and tried to calm down. Nothing came out.
I really did not want to go out into the gaping blackness of the corridor. It seemed that something was lurked there, something terrible. What’s happening.
I seemed to be in the horror of Stephen King, and this feeling was not the best. It’s one thing to sit by the fireplace, wrapping your feet in a warm and fluffy blanket, and reading the story, horning from a pleasant exciting feeling of fear. And quite another – to be in such a nightmare in reality, to be alone with night horrors and book fears.
Everything was frightening, so much so that I no longer considered what was happening nightmare.
I went out into the corridor, holding the flashlight with a trembling hand, unsteady lighting the walls around. On the walls I saw strange paintings that I did not notice when I went here with the late Braton and Brianna. On the canvases, depressed landscapes in gloomy colors were depicted, frightening and depressing at the same time, then people subjected to torture and execution. From what I saw, an unpleasant sensation arose again. A person torn by horses, torn muscles and tendons, blood irrigating the earth. The paintings were terrible, but the worst of all were the faces of the unfortunate. Horror and despair. Such hellish flour was visible on them that goosebumps ran along the skin, and the gaze was allotted from the spectacle.
The darkness of the corridor called me, and I was forced to obey her. Never before I have been given every step with such difficulty. The muscles were paralyzed by fear. The paintings continued to stretch out of me. The corridor did not end. The light from the lantern was too weak to illuminate at least ten meters. I walked for a long time, the staircase was supposed to appear a long time ago, but there was no saving turn.
The corridor then … lengthened, then became shorter. I’m tired. It seemed to me that I was standing still and did not advance a meter before the exit.
Suddenly a flash of dazzling light hit the eyes.

The road is nowhere.The road without a return.There was no turn behind.

I stood in the middle of the road. It was surrounded by a fog that preventing him from seeing anything. Lumber pillars went into the distance, drowned in a haze and fog. Everything around was immersed in heavy and gloomy tones that pressed on the brain.
I found in horror that I could not move. The body was constrained by invisible wagons. Who I am? Observer?
I heard behind me the growing rumble of a car motor, the pupils expanded, I began to rush frantically, trying to get off the place when suddenly the car passed through my body and rushed forward along the road.

It was my car.The machine in which I had an accident on that fateful day.I could not confuse her with anything.And in it … there were two silhouettes.
Toyota rushed towards her. The one that crashed into my Ford.

Another flash lit the driver’s face. It was painfully like a face … Mr. Breiton. The light went out, and everything again plunged into the darkness. But two iron monsters rushed to meet each other.

He will not have time to turn.

Hit.
Time seemed to stop.
Seconds froze, years froze, millennia stopped.
Cars, like toys scattered to the sides, scattering pieces of iron around.

Everyone died. You are the next.

Hurt. How painful. The pain dissolves in every body cell, impregnates it, penetrates into all organs. Evaces into the brain.Pain.But is she?Or I came up with her?*** I look in the old mirror on which the old crack lay. The crack passes through my unshaven face, refracts it into the segments of distorted reality. The body aches with fatigue. Who I am? And what am I doing here? It seems to me that there are already many years here, but I can’t find out this place. Is it? I came up with him?Or it is me?

***
-Get up, Sonya. You slept before lunch, but you already have to get up. Come on, dear. We take a walk around the city, ”the affectionate whisper of Brianna woke me up.
-Brinny … I had a terrible dream … You won’t believe it …, I muttered through my dream and reached out relaxed.
The sun’s rays penetrated through the windows, throwing gold spots to the floor. And Brianna lay nearby, whole and unharmed. This morning was different from all others – I remembered everything that I saw that night. Last vision … my accident. I don’t understand anything … We must consult with Brianna.
-Okay, Stevi – let’s go now, you will tell me everything. Get up, ”she also answered affectionately. It puzzled me. So much affection … very unusual. Of course, Brianna and I love each other very much, but this morning was a rarity.
I opened my eyes and looked into my wife’s eyes. Emptiness. That’s all that was in them. She looked into my eyes, but at the same time, as if through me, somewhere far.
-Brinny … what’s wrong with you? – The words trembling like leaves in the wind burst outward.
-Nothing sweet. All is well, let’s go for a walk, – how the damned was saying Brianna. – Everything is wonderful.
-No, not all, – I sat down sharply and moved away from her. Brianna’s eyes still looked at one point where I lay.
I carefully got out of bed, walked up and pushed her in the shoulder. The body swayed like a plaster statue and fell on the side. It scattered into the smallest particles of ash, which fell on the blanket with quiet snowfall. They fell, as if in a slow shoot, hanging in the air. I staggered a few meters and rushed to the door. There was no door, in its place there was just a continuation of the wall, a monolithic and terrible. Turning around sharply, I saw that everything disappeared in the room. Bed, wife’s body, closet, table – everything disappeared. Only bare walls and darkness remained.

The darkness around has become almost tangible. It got colder. The wind suddenly collapsed, striving to climb into the ear sinks, whispering something with strange whistling voices
An obscure light dawn ahead. He blurred in front of his eyes, merging with paints with darkness around. The voices brought by the wind became louder. Sounds circled around me, stunning and scaring at the same time. The glow in the distance became closer, obscure contours … figures began to guess in it? The contours were formed into silhouettes. Dazzling white haze of light suddenly rushed directly to my face.

There was a table in the pillar of light. Above it, falling from the glow, hung a rope with a loop tied. I slowly approached the table, awkwardly climbed on him. The glow over me poured a warm face, warmed and beckoned at the same time. I realized what had to be done to merge with the light into one, to finish this whole nightmare. With trembling hands, I took up the loop and did my head through it. Everything seems to be. The darkness around seemed to swing closer, trying not to miss anything.
I slowly swing the table with my feet, now it stood on only two legs, one movement and it will end.
I quietly press on the table, it overturning sharply, the loop is compressed, the throat pierces terrible wheezing.
From the darkness, a Ford brand car crashes into me at full speed. The man driving is dead. Blood flooded his face, flowing out of empty eye sockets.
Hello, Mr. Breeton.

-Mr., Breeton! Mr., Breeton! Gryffin shouted. – come here, urgently!
Jake Breeton got out of his comfortable chair, straightened his glasses and left the office with a quick step.
-What happened, Alex? – He threw it to his assistant. What the incident?
-Patient … well, the same … Lord, why is it! Faster, after me!
The attending physician of the hospital for people with acute psychiatric disorders hastened to Alex. What happened this time? I did not want to think at all. Judging by Gryffin’s behavior, this is something serious. Only this was not enough.
Alex, meanwhile, ran to the door to the patient’s ward and entered the stiff legs inside. Jake followed him. Crap…
The patient hung in a loop tied to thick wiring pulled out from under a broken lamp. On the floor lay an inverted small wooden table, which was in every ward. Brayton saw his face, reflected in a cracked mirror on the opposite wall. He slowly entered the room, went around the hanging body and went to the desk. A piece of paper was lying on it, on which a few phrases were written with a galloping huge handwriting.

I hate you. So I want to tear your eyes and make them gobble up.Where is Brianna?What did you do to her?!I will kill you, kill you.

Breeton turned the leaf. On the second side of the word were written more clearly. The handwriting was neat and legible.

I did not have time to turn. It cannot be returned.What am I and who am I?The turn is rose.Do not save.I could not.

This patient was one of the most severe, hopeless. Successful journalist in the past. After the accident that was written in the newspapers in which the wife of this guy, Khanta, died, he was damaged by his mind and got here. Waves of rage rolled on him, during which he tried to kill Breiton, believing that he was sitting driving in that car.
Then moments of calm when Hunt was muffled and repented in the death of Brianna, his wife.
His reason no longer existed. He went out like a light of a candle, the wick of which was squeezed with two fingers. Who knows? Perhaps death for him was the best way out. What he felt? No one knows.