Loading Screen - Horror! Head... It Off!
Zeta finds himself in an unfamiliar room - an artist’s studio of some sort of another, judging by the items lying around the place. Said room is on the dimly-lit side, giving it quite the unsettling atmosphere, and shows obvious signs of neglect - everything is coating in a veil of dust - for one, but the state of the room is clearly not what’s occupying the horror mangaka’s attention as he attempts to get his bearings. No, his eyes are fixated on the numerous mannequins that populate the room, all of which lack a head.
The sound of something creaking nearby catches his ears, and he steps back a pace or so, eyes flitting around the room as he tries to scope out an exit. Zeta has read - and written - enough horror manga to know where this is going - these things are bad news, and he’s not going to spend any more time with them than he has no. And sure enough, as he steps backward a pace or two, edging towards the nearest exit, he is greeted with a chorus of voices, all of which are issuing from the mannequins, which seem to have… shifted slightly.
“Look! Someone’s here! And he’s so handsome!”
“Such a nice head! I doubt he’d appreciate it like I would, wouldn’t you say?”
“I want it! Oh, I want that head for my own! Please, give it to me!”
The last voice comes right next to where Zeta is standing - by attempting to put himself closer to one of the exits, he also put himself a bit too close to one of the mannequins, which suddenly lurches to life and lunges for the mangaka, clearly intending to wrench his head right off its shoulders.
Unfortunately for his would-be assailant, Zeta is clearly prepared for this. Before the mannequin can lay its hands on him, he lunges for and grabs hold of a nearby chair, swinging it at his attacker with all the force he can muster, sending it reeling backwards and falling to the floor in a broken and completely inert heap.
Even with that one deal with, Zeta is far from out of the woods yet, and he knows it - there are still several other headless sculptures that have shambled to life and are clearly ready to claim his head for their own - one has even seized an unsettlingly sharp-looking meat cleaver and is waving it menacingly in the air and it advances towards him. He bolts for the door he’s closest to, but finds it locked tight and completely unyielding to his attempts to force it open - and the mannequins are quickly advancing on him, leaving him with no opening to run towards another exit. Zeta grimaces as he realizes just how boxed-in he is and does a bit more than grimace as one of the mannequins lunges for him once again-
“Get away! His head is mine!”
“No, it’s mine! I saw it first!”
-only for another mannequin to suddenly attack its fellow, smacking it aside as it tries to grab for Zeta, only for yet another to attack it in turn. Within moments, the mannequins have begun to fight each other for the right to Zeta’s head, leaving Zeta himself to take advantage of the chaos and dash past the ensuing brawl before charging full force towards the other door and emerging into a hallway…
...where another mannequin is waiting at one end. As soon as it senses Zeta, it rushes towards him… and the horror mangaka can hear more footsteps behind him as well - one of the mannequins from the studio has managed to break free from the brawl after all and is now also giving chase.
That’s all the encouragement Zeta needs to continues running, although it’s unclear how much longer he can manage to do that - his gait is growing increasingly more unsteady as he rushes down the only non-blocked off route he can see, leaving the sound of more fighting between his pursuers in his wake, and his breathing is growing more ragged by the moment as he presses on up the flight of stairs in front of him as quickly as he can manage, where he finds...
…absolutely nothing. Zeta, who is struggling to catch his breath as he comes to a stop near the top of the stairs, is completely, utterly alone, with nary a murderous mannequin in sight. The realization is enough to make his shoulders relax visibly. Oh sure, there’s no visible exit in sight, he’s spent most of his energy, and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do from here, but he’s left them in the dust for now. He’s free to breathe easy.
“Look what I found~! It’s all mine now!”
Zeta snaps to attention and wheels around to face one of the mannequins, the exact same one whom he had been waving a meat cleaver at him earlier, just moments before it attacks, but this time, he has neither the resources nor the energy to defend himself properly. All he can do as his assailant swings the cleaver in his direction is reflexively throw up his hands… which are promptly and neatly lopped off.
A look of utter agony contorts Zeta’s face and a strangled-sounding scream escapes his throat as his hands hit the floor. Without thinking, he returns the blow by reflexively kicking the mannequin as hard as he can manage, leaving it broken at the foot of the stairs and him with his head still attached to his shoulders, before collapsing to the ground, his body spasming in pain and more noises of agony escaping his throat as a worrisomely and unusually large amount of blood begins to leak from his stumps.
Zeta Umbriel, the Super High School Level Horror Mangaka, has been dealt a grievous injury.
(Art Credit goes to Nat! Thank you!)
