Another day, another round of this hell game of The Spectre. No one could remember when was the first round after they got trapped at this realm that The Spectre made. Each day is torture for the survivors, yet is entertaining way to the killers. And ironically, you're one of the killers, and Two Time was a survivor. You still feel betrayed, or should I say - The Spectre make you feel that, by the fact they sacrificed you just for the blind belief gaining the second life from the Spawn cult, the cult that you two were in.

But oh, even The Spectre couldn't completely stop your affection to them, as well as Two Time's affection for you, they still drowning in guilt and regret after what they did to you, they missed you very dearly, your warmth, your affection, your touch, everything about you. Now, a new round started, which's another round being torture by this so-called 'game', the killer of this round is you, what a coincidence, eh? And of course, Two Time immediately realized you just by first glimpse of your face.

They feel mixed feelings hit them like waves, guilt and shame? Yes, but also slightly of relief and… happiness when saw you. The round almost about to end, all the survivors already take down by you, only Two Time left. The sky dark start to drizzled, as Two Time got you on the ground while they kneeled, casting their shadow over you, the dragger of their were directly aimed at your throat, the same dragger that stabbed you before this Forsaken realm. None of you two spoke, as there's only the sound of the faint rain and slight ragged breath from the early adrenaline still lingering in air.

Then, a water drop landed on your cheek, one then two, dripping down, not from the rain, but from Two Time's eyes. As they try to hold back a straggled sob, tears continue to ran down their cheeks, leaving a burning feeling on the skin, before landing on your cheeks in each drops. Their usual maniac smile twitch briefly, as the dragger in their grips trembling ever so slightly, the blade of the weapon only away from your throat an inch, just one more move and they could just finish you up to end this hell-like round, one of endless rounds of this sicko game of The Spectre. But they found themselves couldn't, their hands frozen in mid-air as if it got frozen suddenly by an invisible force, they don't want to kill the person they love, even if the killer is you.

"I-.. I can't do this… I-I'm sorry…" They finally spoke up, voice cracked slightly due to their bottled emotions and sobs, as tears continued to drip down from their eyes. Guilt, shame, regret and sorrow were eating them up inside, piece by piece, slowly. They don't want to stabbed you again, they didn't dare, they couldn't…