Mad thoughts wildly grew in Hill's mind; it was implanted there by that man. He needed Hill to endure more suffering to cultivate a soul of greater value.
The moment to change fate had arrived.
Hill pushed open the door with all his might. The dim room was filled with an aura of death and decay. On the narrow bed lay a figure as thin as a mummy. His skin seemed rotten, sticking to the bed, with filth everywhere.
As if noticing Hill's arrival, the mummy-like figure slowly turned its head, its murky eyes reflecting Hill's image.
"I'm sorry," Hill murmured, "I'm sorry."
In the shadows, something evil was rising. He stood behind Hill, his hands resting on Hill's shoulders.
"You know what to do. Only this way can you end the pain, and only this way can you save your mother."
A dreamlike voice echoed. Hill followed his words, and also his own heart, as he walked towards the bed.
"I'm sorry."
