The Counting Room

I had been having a shitty week. My car was having transmission problems and it would cost a few thousand for repairs. It was hell just getting to work. Every day was a new stress as I prayed to God that my car wouldn't halt in the middle of the street, sending me to an early grave. But I needed to get to work. My boss had been putting more and more pressure on his employees, as sales weren't doing too hot. People had already been laid off, and I knew that I needed to make myself valuable to the company to secure my job. My friends couldn't help me either, they needed their cars just as badly as I did and they all worked far from me.

On Friday though, I was able to take a breather. I got off of work around 4:00 and went to the nearest mechanic as soon as I possibly could to drop off my car and hoped that he could fix it quickly. Until then, I had nothing to do and nowhere to go, so I thought I might get some alone time and unwind at home. As I was walking back from the mechanic's, I was thinking about how I could relieve the tension from the past few days. I reminisced over my school days, and whenever I felt stressed out, I would play video games to calm my nerves. Just a simple run through a classic like Super Mario World sounded like just the ticket. I was a little saddened when I remembered that my SNES was probably still in my parents' attic and I didn't even know if it still worked. As a let out a disappointed sigh, I remembered that you could download ROMs of old games relatively easily. I had never really experimented much with emulators, but I thought, why not give it a shot?

I got to my apartment, put my coat in the closest and started up the computer. I have a pretty small apartment and not a lot of stuff: a dining room/kitchen, a bathroom and my room which held my desk, bed and computer. I searched for an SNES emulator and a Super Mario World ROM and found them easily enough. After toying around with emulator a little, I finally started to get it to function correctly, so I excitedly got Super Mario World running. The game opened up and I was greeted to the familiar title I had grown to love just seeing. I picked a new file and was curious as to how Super Mario World would translate on the keyboard.

I started off on Yoshi's Island as per usual and left Yoshi's Home to the overworld. Everything was in order, except for a weird stage that appeared in the middle of the ocean below Yoshi's Island. I was a little surprised, I headed down to the stage and Mario waded into the water like he normally would for water stages. The stage was titled "Counting Room." I was uneasy, as I was positive this was not usually in the game. "Was this a hack?" I thought. I hoped that they did not mess too much with the game, as I did not want to play something loaded with gimmicks and cheap deaths. Oh, well. If this is a hack, I'd just get another ROM. I entered the "Counting Room" and was unsure of what I would witness next.

It was a room designed like the Switch Palaces that appeared throughout the game. Inside, there were plenty of low-level enemies like Koopas and Goombas. My gamer instincts popped in gear and I started to take out each enemy as they appeared before me. I was still puzzled, but there was a strange therapeutic quality to the room. Stomping on enemies and trying to combo as many kills as I could with Koopa shells was never quite as satisfying as it was in this room. It was then that I noticed that this version of the game also had a strange counter in the top right of the screen. Every time I killed an enemy, the counter would go up by one. While odd, I thought it was a neat addition to the game. I soon discovered that there were no exits in the Counting Room and that the more enemies you'd kill, the more enemies would spawn. Eventually, I just got swarmed in a corner and had to admit defeat. When I got back to the overworld, I hadn't even lost a life. That's wasn't too bad, I could get used to this. At that point, I thought I might enjoy this hack as long as they didn't change too much else.

I stopped hanging around the Counting Room and continued on to play the game normally. Nothing else was changed, so I was able to replay the levels with no issue. The counter still remained in the top right screen though, recording every kill I made. This still didn't bother me, so I left it to its own volition. Though I was playing the game normally now, I still left to visit the Counting Room every now and then. I had made up a few survival games for the Counting Room where I would attempt to get as many kills as possible or to try to combo as many enemies in a single jump to get a new personal high score. I had developed a strange fixation, like I almost was compelled to kill as many enemies as I possibly could in that room. At the time, I thought nothing of it. My inner gamer from years ago had been revived and I wanted to challenge myself in new ways. Nothing wrong with that.

The game itself was relatively easy once I had gotten used to the controls on the keyboard. I trekked through the stages and got to Bowser in no time. I dodged his attacks, threw one last Mechakoopa in his face and was waiting for Princess Peach to descend and watch the credits roll. Bowser had been my 1,572nd kill and I was strangely proud of that score. As I kept waiting, nothing happened. I was afraid that game had glitched and I would have to do the battle all over again.

Suddenly, the stage started to break apart, and Mario fell towards the bottom of the screen. However, he hadn't died, he just kept falling. He finally landed, but it was in the strangest room I had ever seen in Super Mario World. It was completely pitch black and empty. Hesitantly, I start to walk to the right to see if I could investigate anything, but there was only pure darkness. I was thinking of shutting the game off when words started to appear in the darkness that surrounded Mario.

"DO YOU LIKE TO MAKE OTHERS SUFFER?"

I was incredibly confused. What did the game want me to do? All of my fear told me to just turn the computer off, but my stupid curiosity made me stay. More text started to appear.

"THAT'S OKAY, WE'D LIKE TO MAKE YOU SUFFER TOO."

Nope, that was it. I wasn't having this. I had just wanted to play a freaking game, I didn't want to go along with this haunting bullshit. I was so disappointed in the creator in the ROM for pulling such a cheap stunt at the last minute. I tried to close the emulator, but every time, it would not exit the program. I then went for the ROM itself and tried to toss it in the Recycle Bin.

However, every time I threw it away, it would just keep popping up back on my desktop. I was fed up of trying to delete it, so I stepped away from the computer to take a breather. No use getting upset over a stupid game, I'll just shut the computer off. I turned sat back down to deal with the problem and when I looked at the screen, I was frozen into my seat when I read what was on the screen. I could just stare blankly at it.

"IT'S CUTE HOW YOU TRY TO RUN."

How did it...? No, it's just a cheap trick they use to freak people out. Suddenly, the game's lighting dimmed to the point that I could no longer see Mario. From my speakers, I could only hear the sound of rushing footsteps. In an instant, my room was covered with the sounds of disturbing moaning and groaning, with brief eruptions of psychotic laughter. Periodically, the sound of fabric tearing leaked out into the room. Harsh noises like the cracking of bones were followed by the most malevolent and voracious gnawing and swallowing I had ever heard in my life.

With that came the echo of objects splattering onto the ground and the faint trickle of liquid as it hit the floor. He was just my in game avatar, but I was afraid for Mario. I could only imagine the terrible things that were happening to him behind the shadowy veil. A miniscule amount of light started to finally emerge and I was mortified to see what lay there. A pool of blood spread across the floor, engulfing pieces of bone, tattered cloth, and chewed up organs, all rendered in 16-bit graphics. I was thinking to myself, "The guy who made this is a sick fucker." My eyes were fixated on nothing but my screen when more text jumped at me.

"YOU HAVE A VISITOR."

To my horror, as soon as the text appeared, I heard a harsh splatter come from the wall in back of me. I didn't want to look, but I needed to know, so I turned around and saw a hand print in what looked like mud smeared across the back of my wall. I almost jolted out of the room to leave, but I heard footsteps hitting the floorboards outside of my room. I turned off the lights and held my hands to my mouth to quiet the sound of my breathing, but locked the door. I wasn't safe in there, but whatever was coming in this direction didn't seem all that friendly either. I heard each horrible footstep my unwelcome guest left as he slowly approached my room.

*thunk*

It was at my doorstep now. I couldn't hear it breathe, I could only hear it try to open my locked door with an intense shake of the doorknob. When it gave up, I heard the rustle of paper sliding into my room. I was still too frightened to move, all I could do was wait there until I heard it leave. Time passed, but it had not made a single sound, so I determined that it might be worth the risk to see what it had slipped through my door. I switched the lights on quickly and grabbed at the paper. It was an envelope. I carelessly tore the envelope and salvaged the note from within. It read:

"COUNT THEIR DEATHS"

Frightened beyond all reason, I bolted out of the door. Muddy footprints had lead up to my room, but there were no footprints indicating that whatever left them had gone back the way he came. I followed the footprints to my wide open front door, which I promptly closed out of fear for what else might enter. I had to get out of there, call someone and stay at their place or something, I just needed to leave. But I had left my phone in my room.

Stupidly, I thought I could get the phone and flee before whatever was in my house could catch me, but fate had other plans for me. I dashed to my room, grabbed my phone, but felt a burst of wind from the door slamming behind me. I ran at the door and tried to open it, but I was locked in. No matter what I did, not matter how much force I used on the door, it would not let me out.

I stumbled to the floor, exhausted, and tried to catch my breath. The lights began to flicker as I trembled in the corner. The phrase, "COUNT THEIR DEATHS" was scrawled over and over on the walls until it started to cover everything around me. I shouted at the presence in my room, "OKAY, OKAY! I WILL!" What did it mean though? What exactly did it want me to do? The lights completely shut off and I couldn't turn them back on. However, my computer screen lit up for a brief moment displaying the number 1,752. No...it meant my kills from the game!? I was shaking and I couldn't make sense of anything that was happening, but I had no choice but to comply. I took a deep breath and started. "One..."

What followed was the sharpest screech I have ever and probably will ever experience. It was like nails on a chalkboard amplified through a microphone. I cringed in pain as it pierced into my ear drums like a drill. After I recoiled, I tried to continue. "Two..." Again, the screech rang out through the room and I tried to cover my ears, but to no avail. When I covered my ears, the sound was somehow louder. It was impossible to avoid. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to continue. "Three..."

That screech never got any better and I never got used to it. Every screech was met with excruciating pain, but if I ever wanted to leave, I had to reach 1,752. And I had only just started.

"Forty-seven." The screech rang out.

"Eighty-nine." The screech rang out

"Two hundred fifty-two." The screech rang out.

"Three hundred thirty-nine." The screech rang out.

Around five hundred, I was starting to get hysterical. I tried to keep a straight face, tried to remain sane, but I was losing grip on my emotions with each number and I still wasn't even half way done. My shaking voice still counted:

"Five hundred ninety-four!" The screech rang out.

"Seven hundred twenty-eight!" The screech rang out

Near eight hundred, I started to cry. I just couldn't handle the situation any longer. Each number I counted was muffled by sobs and dry heaving as I tried to breathe normally. I just couldn't. The pain was too intense and my will was breaking with each screech. The only way to distract myself from the pain was to just shout as loudly as I could, but it didn't help all that much.

"NINE HUNDRED THIRTY-SEVEN!" The screech rang out.

"ONE THOUSAND SIXTY-TWO!" The screech rang out.

"ONE THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR!" The screech rang out.

So close. I was almost there. I might just be able to escape this hell. For the first time in awhile, I felt a semblance of happiness form inside me.

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-TWO!"

Only ten more! I could do this, I could get out. But the screech did not ring out. I would have been happy, but I anticipated that the presence was getting angry. Before I could react, I felt my wrist being sliced by an invisible force. I let out a whelp of pain and tried to regain my composure. Still hurting, I continued:

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-THREE!" Another slash upon my weakened wrists. I could feel the blood profusely spill from my arm now. This was its trump card. It wouldn't just assault my senses, it would now target me directly. Though each slash was incredibly coarse, I wouldn't let it end, not when I was so close. I frantically chanted out:

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR!"

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIVE!"

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-SIX!"

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN!"

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-EIGHT!"

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-NINE!"

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY!"

"ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY-ONE!"

This was it, freedom was within the reach of my hands. I attempted to take one last breath before I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"ONE THOUSAND. SEVEN HUNDRED. AND FIFTY. TWO!" I felt as if my arm was going to be torn apart with the final serrated assault, but I remained intact. I couldn't even move for the longest time, my ears were still ringing from the terrible screeching and my arm was too weak for me to use. When I had recuperated enough, I weakly stood up to turn on the lights.

I stared aghast at what I had seen. Covering the walls in my room were multiple tally marks, collected in sets of five, scratched deep into the structure of the building. I quickly took my wallet and my phone and ran to the bathroom to wash off the blood that had protruded from my wounds. The bleeding had miraculously stopped, but it still stung like a bitch. As I washed it off, I saw what I had expected: the last ten tally marks had been carved into my very own skin.

I ran out of the apartment, locked it and made my way to the nearest hotel. I kept my scarred arm behind my back to the best of my abilities, but must have still looked like a complete wreck to the receptionist. Whatever, I didn't care. I just wanted out.

When I woke up the next morning, I still felt exhausted, but was much better off than I had been that night. I was about to leave to get breakfast and meet up with a friend who I was staying with until I could get my apartment back in order, when I noticed some words had been cut into the window of the room I was staying in.

"I HOPE YOU WON'T FORGET US."

"BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY WON'T FORGET YOU."

"LET'S SUFFER AGAIN SOON."

Credited to HolyBlasphemy

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