Has anyone heard of The Purgatory Game? Part 3.

Part 1 | Part 2
***
I no longer feel safe.
I'm not being paranoid, and I'm not overreacting. I know that now. Someone is following me.
That's the bottom line. I'm being followed, and I'm being watched, and the knocking on my door last night was the final straw.
It happened around 11:30pm, just as I was drifting off to sleep. Three, deliberate knocks.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I felt like I'd been doused in cold water. I immediately came fully awake, straining my ears in the darkness of my bedroom.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The knocking came again. This time there was no uncertainty about who it might be, or what it might mean, either. I knew. I knew straight away it was related to the files I've been posting. None of my friends or family would have been knocking on my door that late at night.
I'd love to tell you I stormed downstairs, marched out, and confronted them. But that would be a lie. Instead, it was like I became a scared little kid again. I held my breath, shut my eyes, and buried myself beneath the covers. Prayed the knocking would stop.
And eventually, after about 10 minutes, it did.
I didn't sleep another second after that. I spent the rest of the night packing, and then first thing this morning ? before the sun was even up ? I left. Took my laptop and a small bag, and went out the back door. Straight to my car, then on to someplace safe.
At least, someplace I hope is safe.
I want you to know I'm going to keep posting the files. I'm not going to stop. Someone's rattled, which means I must be doing something right. I must be getting close.
The following log chronicles the first half of The Purgatory Game's third day. I haven't had a chance to finish it yet because of everything that's happened, but I'll post the rest soon.
If you have any information at all, please send it to me. As you'll see when you read the text below, there's a lot at stake....
..............................
DAY THREE
[Note: All logs consist of a description of participants' main behaviours and actions. Key conversations have also been transcribed.]
8:25am ? Megan is the first to wake. She sits up sharply, staring at the red door. After watching it for 10 minutes, she notices that Mary has also begun to stir.
MEGAN: Mary? Mary? Are you awake?
MARY: Hm? What?
MEGAN: Sorry, I... I thought you might be awake. You can go back to sleep.
MARY: No, no, it's okay. I'm up now.
MEGAN: God, I'm so hungry, Mary. I don't think I've ever been this hungry before in my life. Like, I feel sick, but I also feel hollow. You know?
MARY: I know, sweetheart. Look, try not to think about it, okay? The more you focus on it, the worse it is.
MEGAN: I know, I know. Do you think... do you think maybe someone will come for us today? I mean if this is TV, they can't be getting much usable footage out of it, can they?
MARY: I'm not sure. I hope so.
There's a pause, while they both sit in silence in the dark. The only sounds are Luke turning fitfully in his bed, and Ron snoring. It's Mary who speaks next.
MARY: Hey, what's the last memory you have? Before you woke up in here, I mean?
MEGAN: It's funny, I was actually thinking about that as I was going to sleep last night. I guess I've been thinking about it on and off since I got here. It's nothing that exciting, though; I was just at home, at my parents' place. They were away for the night, celebrating their anniversary. They were worried about me. Worried about leaving me on my own. But I told them I'd be fine. I'm 18 now, I said, and I'll be going to uni soon anyway. So off they went. And the last memory I have is of going to sleep in my own bed, in my own house. I felt... safe. The windows were shut, the doors were locked. I know the doors were locked. The whole thing doesn't make any sense...
Megan's voice starts to crack towards the end of her story, and she tails off. Mary is quick to jump in.
MARY: I know what you mean; it doesn't make any sense to me, either. I was the same as you ? not with my parents, I don't mean that, but I was home alone as well. The house was empty, and the doors were locked. My husband was up in London for work for the night, and the last thing I did before I went to bed was call him. We spoke over FaceTime. It was... normal. Just normal. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.
MEGAN: So what do you think he'll have done?
MARY: Sorry?
MEGAN: Your husband. When he came home from London and found the house empty. What do you think he'll have done? What do you think he's doing now?
MARY: Oh, he'll be terrified. He'll be absolutely distraught. But he's a smart guy, and he's also the most determined man I know. He'll be doing everything he can to find me.
MEGAN: And do you think he will? Find us, I mean?
MARY: Well, it's silly, but I... well, I was thinking yesterday about the day he proposed to me. He took me out to this lake near Bath, where we live, one Saturday around sunrise. I'm interested in photography, and he kept saying it would make a beautiful photo. The sun coming up over this big lake, turning the water orange like it was on fire. He was right, too. And after I was done taking one of my pictures, I turned around to find him down on one knee. Do you know what he said to me, right before he asked me the question?
MEGAN: What?
MARY: He said he'd always protect me, no matter what. He'd always look after me. I know it sounds old-fashioned, and I guess I would have cringed if I'd heard someone else saying it. But at the time, there was something about how serious he looked ? how earnest ? that really made me believe him.
Mary pauses for a moment, staring into the darkness of the chamber. Megan doesn't say anything.
MARY: Someone will find us, Megan. I know they will. My husband will be looking, and your parents will be. Everyone in here will have someone. You can't ****** this many people in the night and get away with it.
9am ? The lights go on. Ron sits up in bed, blinking slowly. Luke continues to toss and turn, moaning in pain.
9:25am ? Simon awakes in the bedroom. He doesn't move or get up. Just stares straight ahead at the ceiling, hardly blinking, for the next 34 minutes.
9:35am ? Luke is fully awake now. Mary checks on him, asking him how he feels before examining his broken leg. Luke complains of hunger and pain, but otherwise appears stable.
10:10am ? Simon bursts back in to the main chamber. His eyes are bloodshot and his hair is a mess, but he seems focussed. Determined. He tells the others they're getting out today ? that this is the day they leave. When he speaks his voice is slightly raised, as if he's on the cusp of shouting.
SIMON: This has gone on too long, now. Far too long. I don't give a **** about any warnings, or whatever ****ing game they're playing. Today is the day we're opening that door.
RON: And how are we going to decide who does that?
SIMON: Look, it doesn't matter who does it, because nothing's going to happen. You get that, right? It'll just be some stupid clue.
RON: You mean like nothing happened to Luke yesterday?
SIMON: What the hell's that got to do with the door?
MARY: No, he's got a point, Simon. I'm not saying you're wrong, but we should be careful at least. Whoever is controlling this... this game, or whatever the hell it is, they watched a kid break his leg yesterday. And they still haven't stopped it, or sent in help.
SIMON: So what's your plan, then? Just sit around until we all starve to death?
MARY: I don't know, okay! I'm just saying that whatever we do, we need to be very careful how we do it.
SIMON: And we will be. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But first, we need to decide who's opening the door.
Simon marches over to the remains of the bedside cabinet he smashed against the wall yesterday, and bends down. Rummages through the wood. When he straightens up, he's holding four thin shards in his hand. He snaps one of them in half.
SIMON: It's not quite straws, but it'll have to do. Pick one, Mary.
MARY: What do you mean? Can't we?
SIMON: No, there's no time. Pick one.
Simon stares at Mary without blinking. She looks from his face to his hand, which is clenched so tightly around the shards that the knuckles are white. Finally she nods. Mary steps forward and draws hers. It's long. Ron is next, and he also draws a long one. As Megan moves towards Simon, she's almost on the verge of tears. Her hand is shaking as she pulls one of the two remaining shards of wood free. It's short.
SIMON: Okay then.
Megan starts to cry. She backs away from Simon, shaking her head.
MEGAN: No, no, please don't make me. Please. I don't want to open it, I don't?
MARY: It's okay sweetheart, no one's going to make you do anything.
SIMON: The **** they aren't. If it wasn't for her screaming yesterday, Luke wouldn't have fallen. She's opening the door.
An argument breaks out. Megan starts crying more loudly, and Mary and Simon begin shouting at each other. Luke watches from the bed, his face white and strained. It's Ron who eventually stops it. Rather than saying anything, he simply takes a breath and marches directly across to the stone archway.
RON: To hell with it.
Ron turns the door knob and pulls. Nothing happens. But like Laura, when Ron tries to rattle the door in its stone frame, it suddenly swings inwards. Ron is greeted by a swirling mass of darkness beyond. He stares into it, a look of shock on his face. A soft, barely audible whisper fills the chamber.
RON: Oh Jesus. Jesus Christ.
SIMON: What the ****? What the **** is that?
10:50am ? The group gathers around the stone archway, keeping a few metres back from the open door. Luke is sitting up in bed, staring at the darkness. He keeps muttering out loud that it's not possible ? that it has to be a trick of the light. An optical effect.
11:10am ? Simon walks all the way around the archway, confirming that there's no sign of the darkness on the far side. Just blank stone.
11:15am ? Megan asks the group if they can hear the sound coming from the darkness beyond the door. The low whispering. Simon frowns, but Mary and Ron eventually nod. Megan tells them that's the sound she heard right before Laura's voice.
11:25am ? Simon cuts off any more talk of Laura by walking up to the door and pulling it quickly shut. The whispering sound cuts off immediately. He turns to the group, his eyes large and unfocussed. His right hand keeps travelling up to his face to rub at his eyes and temples.
MARY: What are you doing?
SIMON: Thinking. I can't stare into that ****ing thing and think at the same time. We can't have a distraction when we plan out our next steps.
MARY: What next steps?
SIMON: Well, Ron can't just go walking through there without any protection, can he? We have to?
RON: What the hell do you mean, Ron?
SIMON: Well, it's either you or Megan, isn't it? She drew the short straw, and then you put yourself forward in her place. Remember?
RON: Don't even think about it. Don't you dare. You know I never agreed to that.
SIMON: So it's Megan then.
MARY: Simon, don't do this.
SIMON: Don't do what? What am I doing, Mary?
11:30am ? Another argument breaks out in the group. A bad one this time. Ron and Mary are yelling at Simon, telling him that no one drew straws thinking they'd be going through the door. Simon yells back, his shouts turning more and more aggressive. Megan retreats to the back of the chamber, in tears. Things continue to descend until Simon and Mary are in each other's faces. Simon is almost screaming, his fists clenched. Mary looks frightened, but refuses to back down. Once again, it's Ron who puts a stop to it.
RON: Enough, okay, enough! I'll go. For God's sake, I'll go, alright?
11:45am ? Everyone starts speaking again, but Ron cuts them off once more. This time with a sudden admission: he's ill. Seriously ill. Ron says he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few weeks earlier, and the prognosis isn't good. The doctors think he has months, rather than years.
RON: I want to spend the last bit of time I have getting as many rounds of golf in as I can. I want to spend it with my friends, and the bit of family I've got left. I don't want to waste any more of it with a group of bloody strangers, trapped in some bloody game. I'll go, okay. I'll go.
MARY: Ron no, you don't have to, you don't?
RON: Yes, Mary, I do. It makes the most sense. Let me do this, okay?
11:55am ? There's more arguing, and more tears. This time from Mary as well as Megan. Simon retreats to the side of the chamber and sits down on one of the empty beds, his head in his hands. Ron speaks to Mary, continuing to reassure her that he'll be alright. He looks frightened, but his voice is steady.
12:15pm ? The group gathers in the same place as before, not far from the stone archway. Talking through a plan. This time it's Luke's idea. He's saying that if they strip all the bed sheets and tie them together, they can make a rope. Ron can wrap it around his waist, and they can hold onto the other end as he goes through the door. That way if he gets lost, he'll be able to find his way back to them.
12:30 ? 1:30pm ? The group splits up and strips most of the bedsheets and duvet covers. Mary knots them together in a long line, then ties one of the sheets securely around Ron's waist.
RON: Will it hold?
MARY: It'll hold. I doubt we'll need it, anyway. There's probably some underground passage hidden in that darkness that leads straight outside.
Ron tries to smile, but doesn't quite manage it. His face is pale.
1:45pm ? The group gathers once more around the stone archway. The bedsheets sit in a pile not far from the red door, with Simon, Mary and Megan standing close by them, ready to feed the material through their hands. Ron moves into position by the door.
RON: You don't think... you don't think there's anything out there, do you? Anything dangerous?
Megan picks up a shard of wood from the floor of the chamber ? one of the ones Simon used earlier ? and hands it to Ron.
MEGAN: Here, take this. Just in case.
Ron smiles and turns to the door. Puts his hand on the doorknob. Before he opens it, he turns back to the others one more time.
RON: Okay. Wish me luck.
MARY: You don't need it. But good luck, anyway.
MEGAN: Good luck.
Ron turns and twists the doorknob. The red door swings inwards, once more revealing a wall of darkness. Ron pauses in the doorway for a moment, staring straight ahead. Then he steps through it.
Megan pulls in a sharp breath. Luke sits up straighter in his bed, peering at the archway.
LUKE: How is that...
Ron has disappeared through the doorway. He's no longer visible on any cameras. The line of bedsheets extends into darkness. The others stare at the spot where he'd been a moment before, unsure what to do or say next. It's Simon who recovers first.
SIMON: Here, here, help me feed this through.
Simon picks up the line of bedsheets, which is slowly being pulled through the doorway, and begins to feed it through his hands. Mary and Megan do the same. After a couple of seconds, they hear Ron's voice. It's fainter than it was before, almost as though its reaching them from the end of a pipe. But it's clear enough.
[RON]: Can't see a bloody thing in here.
MARY: Ron, can you hear us okay?
[RON]: Yeah, I can hear you. You sound miles away, though. Or like you're underwater.
The line of bedsheets continues to disappear into the darkness.
SIMON: Can you describe your surroundings at all?
[RON]: I told you, I can't see a damn thing. It's pitch black. I can't have gone more than ten paces, either. At first I could? hold on.
SIMON: What? What is it?
The line of bedsheets stops moving.
MARY: Ron?
The group pauses, listening, but there's no response. Only silence.
MEGAN: Mary, what ha?
[RON]: Sorry, I'm still here. I'm still here.
Ron's voice is even fainter than it was before. He sounds slightly out of breath.
MARY: Are you okay?
SIMON: What happened?
[RON]: Nothing, I? I thought for a second I saw something up ahead. Movement, or a shadow, maybe. But it was nothing.
MARY: Are you sure? Do you want us to pull you back?
[RON]: No, I'm sure. Just spooking myself, that's all. I think my imagination's playing tricks on me. I?
Ron screams. The sound is loud and sudden, cutting straight through the quiet of the chamber. Simon and Mary both jump, and Megan yells in surprise. The line of bedsheets goes taut in their hands.
MARY: Ron? Ron?!
SIMON: Pull it for ****'s sake, pull it!
He starts to heave on the line. Mary and Megan join him. There's some resistance, but eventually it moves. Ron continues screaming, then goes suddenly silent. A low-level whispering noise fills the chamber, coming from the darkness beyond the door.
SIMON: Pull, come on, pull! Keep going!
LUKE: What's happening? What's going on?
MARY: Ron? Ron, can you hear us?
The whispering sound grows louder, then abruptly cuts off. For a second, the only noise in the chamber is the group's panicked breathing. But then there's something else. Footsteps, coming from the darkness beyond the doorway. Footsteps and muffled moans of pain.
Ron emerges from the darkness so suddenly that the group takes a collective step back. The bedsheets are still wrapped around his waist, but now they're spattered red. Ron's hands are red, too. They're both pressed tightly to his face as he moans in pain, over and over again.
RON: Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.
MARY: Ron?
RON: Make it stop, make it stop, make it?
Simon, who is closest to Ron, steps forwards and puts a hand on the old man's arm. Ron screams and removes his hands away from his face.
RON: MAKE IT STOP!
Ron's eyes are missing. They look like they've been clawed out. The sockets are a mixture of blood and viscera, the jelly and gore smeared down the wrinkled skin of his cheeks. Simon stumbles back a step, his mouth hanging open. Ron's head snaps in his direction.
RON: GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!
Ron lunges at Simon. The latter is caught completely off guard, and stumbles backwards. Ron's hands close around his throat. Simon easily outweighs the old man, but for a moment he's overcome by shock, and he loses his balance. He goes down hard on his back. Ron comes down on top of him, the blood from his ruined eye sockets pattering onto Simon's face. He's screaming "GET AWAY" over and over again as he grips Simon by the throat.
SIMON: Get the... ****... off... me!
The two struggle on the floor while the others look on in shock. With some effort, Simon finally manages to break Ron's grip. He punches the old man in the face, twice, then throws him to one side. Ron flails on the floor of the chamber, a blind man lost in the dark. He's no longer screaming, but his lips are still moving, soundlessly. Simon climbs back to his feet, his face red. Without hesitating he grabs Ron by the front of his shirt, pulling the old man to his feet.
SIMON: What the **** is wrong with you?
Simon shoves Ron backwards. The old man stumbles and half falls, his head striking the wall of the chamber as he goes down. The impact makes a loud thud. Ron's lips go still.
The old man's body slides down the wall until he's slumped on the floor like a broken puppet. Simon stares at him for the next few seconds, breathing heavily. Waiting to see if Ron will move again. But Ron doesn't move again.
MEGAN: What did you do? Oh Jesus, what did you do?
Behind them, the red door slams shut.


Source.