American Horror Story: A Tale of Terror from Silent Hill

Chapter 159 Running
"Down with them! Down with them!"

The four men cheered, hoping to use this to coerce Baling into stopping and surrendering obediently.

The next instant, several clear shoe prints covered in dust appeared on their faces.

Victory was fleeting; a buzzing sound filled the four men's heads, and they collapsed with cries of pain.

Unbeknownst to them, they had been struck by Baling's swift and unpredictable kick.

He struck and killed them instantly.

The panic of being alone crashed into Bright's heart like a stumbling, rickety truck.

Lost again.

Is Baling invincible?

No! I have a gun, I have a gun!
"Aaaaaaah! Die! All of you, die!"

Bang bang bang!
Unable to bear it any longer, Bright fired seven shots, each aimed at Baling's body.

The bullets were fired, hitting flesh and creating gaping holes.

"Quack!" "Ah!" "Woof!" "Eat!"

The bullets were completely used up.

Brett was breathing heavily, under immense mental pressure. He stared intently ahead, hoping to see the result he desired.

bingo.

Without a doubt, he hit the target.

Peggy's cheek was riddled with two bullet holes, Cooper's leg was pierced by a bullet, exposing the bone at his knee, and Richie's stomach was ripped open, with his writhing intestines spilling out.

Of the remaining survivors, Paul was lucky enough to escape being accidentally shot by Bright.

"How...how could this be? It can't be, it can't be, it's an illusion, it's all an illusion!"

Bright was also horrified by the bloody scene before him. He had clearly aimed at Baling, so how could the bullet have gone so far astray!
That's impossible! That's impossible!

He killed someone and was thinking of hiding the traces, but all his friends got shot. How could he possibly handle such a huge thing?
"Great marksmanship, Bright. You did a good job. One more hasn't gone down yet. When are you going to reload and finish him off?"

Baling wore a mocking smile. Bright's arrogance had long since vanished. Now, Bright could only feel fear, extreme fear.

Having committed such a heinous act, he met his end.

"It's all your fault, it's all your fault! Why didn't you die! Ahhh..."

Bright rushed forward like a madman, a butterfly knife in his hand, shouting as he thrust the blade forward.

"Kill, kill, kill, kill!"

Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was anger, or perhaps it was madness overwhelmed by despair.

Bright's face was contorted with rage, his eyes almost bulging out. He frantically thrust the knife back and forth, stabbing it into flesh again and again.

Phew! Phew!

Hearing the screams around him, Bright moved faster and faster, venting all his pressure on Baling in front of him.

Finally, a warm mass collapsed onto Bright's body.

"He's dead... Hehehehe... He's dead, I did it, I did it..."

Bright grabbed the unseeing corpse in front of him and laughed maniacally.

Gradually, he calmed down a bit.

Suddenly, he felt something was wrong with the texture of his hands; they were furry, and besides the smell of blood, there was also a strong dog smell in his nasal cavity.

Was the person he killed... a human?

When Brett looked at the corpse lying on top of him again, he finally came to his senses.

It turned out that he had stabbed Bonnie—his beloved Rottweiler.

"No! No! No... Bonnie—!"

Holding the dead dog, Bright was more heartbroken than if his parents had died.

"Bright, why are you crying? You don't cry when someone dies, but you howl when a dog dies. Besides, you were the one who stabbed so hard just now, and now you're the one crying so loudly. What do you want?"

"Bonnie... I will definitely avenge you."

Feeling the Rottweiler's body growing cold in his arms, Bright wept bitterly. But suddenly, Bonnie cried out. Bright quickly hugged her tighter, gazing into Bonnie's tearful eyes. Before he could say a final goodbye, "boom!" the dog exploded like fireworks.

The flesh and blood were like sticky mud, wet and sticky all over the body.

"Hehehe! How are you feeling, Bright? How are you feeling right now? Are you in a lot of pain?"

Baling revealed a devilish smile, and Bright felt a chill run down his spine, his suppressed fear resurfacing once more.

He wants to escape.

We absolutely cannot stay here.

If we don't run, we'll die!
The dog-shaped fireworks became the final straw that broke the camel's back.

Without hesitation, Bright turned and ran into the woods.

But can he escape?

……

Brett, transformed into a running man, risked his life, running with all his might.

Whenever he got tired and wanted to stop, he would hear footsteps behind him.

Therefore, he dared not stop and could only keep running forward.

Running out of the dark woods, a sunny beach stretched out before us, and the dampness of Lake Eden was already in our faces.

Suddenly, Bright slipped and stepped on a melon rind, losing his balance and tumbling onto the beach.

He endured the pain, struggling to get up and continue his escape for his life.

But a tall, dark figure, a shadow exuding a terrifying aura, suddenly enveloped him.

Looking up, I saw a pair of flip-flops, then a pair of blue beach shorts, followed by a muscular eight-pack and strong arms. The person blocking my way held a long whip in one hand and a large watermelon in the other.

Big watermelon!
Why a big watermelon!
Bright had a bad feeling, but in a flash, a swift whip came flying, instantly leaving a bloody welt on his thick skin.

The searing pain caused Bright to scream in agony.

The whip lashed relentlessly, one lash after another, until there wasn't a single good piece of flesh left on Bright's body.

With his skin torn and flesh ripped open, he was on the verge of death.

Bright couldn't understand why, why his life was coming to an end.

Crack!

With another incredibly fierce blow, a gash appeared in Bright's stomach, and a huge, thick watermelon was forcefully stuffed inside.

Bright was left with only one breath, but that breath would be incredibly long, and his suffering would continue until the very last moment before he died.

……

Soon, the beeping police cars arrived near Eden Lake.

Several police officers lifted up Brett, who was heavily pregnant, and surprisingly, he was still alive.

But what happened next made him wish he were dead.

Because he was identified as the murderer, the handgun, along with the testimonies of others, were the strongest pieces of evidence.

Of the six, Mark, the Black man, died, and Richie suffered septic shock and died despite attempts to save him.

Peggy suffered severe facial disfigurement, Cooper was left with a lifelong disability, but Paul was unharmed.

According to the survivors, Bright first killed Mark, then went berserk and shot at them, then stabbed his own dog to death, and finally escaped.

During this time, apart from Bright, no one else remembered the existence of Baling and his group.

They seemed to have disappeared from the scene of this incident.

What awaits Bright is a permanent prison sentence.

However, some people do not agree with this verdict.

That same night in the small town, gunshots rang out again.

Several families were shattered at the same time; the parents who lost their children hated the living, and the living hated the Brett family in return.

Only bullets can vent my anger.

(End of this chapter)