前几天在 S1 看到有人推荐这个游戏，来自 Steam 平台上的名为 Doki Doki Literature Club! 的 Gal，当然推荐的时候我看到了这个游戏的 Tag：Psychological Horror （心理和精神上的恐怖），我大概能猜出来，这个模仿日系 Galgame 的由非日本的鬼佬们做出来的游戏，在 Steam 界面上看起来一片和谐和美好，但内部可能是个骗局，里面没准有一些“致郁”的元素。
这里我先不要脸的自我吹嘘一下，我作为一个从 2013 年到现在，作为大龄找不到对象，相亲还屡屡失败的没人要的死宅，在这 4 年内几乎玩了好几百个 Galgame，写过上百篇 Galgame 感受文，有一段时间内玩 Gal 几乎是来者不拒，里面不乏各种超展开与恐怖内容的 Galgame，但几乎所有我都是免疫的，就算是那个什么サクラノモリ†ドリーマーズ满屏幕恶灵，仄暗き時の果てより里满屏幕喷血僵尸，什么翠の海里突然上吊，箱庭ロジック里断胳膊断腿之类的都是小意思，Clock up 之类的游戏更是洒洒水，老夫都是微微一笑，完全不抽。
要说所有玩过的游戏里吓到我的只有两个，一个是 3days 里突然屏幕出现的一个掉头的 CG，另一个……就是这个游戏，这个 Doki Doki Literature Club!。
通关之后回顾这个游戏，我觉得可以明确的说，从整体来看，Doki Doki Literature Club! 不是什么恋爱养成，更像是一个恐怖游戏。
我知道很多年轻的小伙伴们无法接受 Galgame 里有一点“虐”的元素，我见过有玩はつゆきさくら（初雪樱）都会被音乐吓的不轻的，我也见过玩个紙の上の魔法使い因为妹妹死了而伤心欲绝的，我见过玩个水葬銀貨のイストリア因为人鱼公主太惨而受不了的，我还见过魔女こいにっき因为故事里的故事里的女主角没得到幸福而要给新岛夕寄刀片的，对于这样的小伙伴来说，这个游戏请务必远离，这完全不是一个恋爱游戏，这是一个恐怖游戏，一个和君と彼女と彼女の恋一样风格的恐怖 metagame。
游戏的开始是很正常的，你作为男主角被青梅竹马 sayori 怂恿（作者是不是操猫玩多了？），加入学校的 Literature Club，也就是日本高校里常见的文艺部，在文艺部里有部长 Monika，还有副部长 Yuri，以及另一个傲娇 Natuki，一切都这么正常，每天文学部都会活动，活动就是回家写诗，再过来交换。
一周目的时候游戏进展到一定程度，青梅竹马 sayori 和男主之间的关系就变得开始不一般了，经常在一起和上学放学，但是 sayori 很快出现了很多异常状况，譬如早上越来越不想起床，情绪越来越失落，身体越来越虚，男主担心就去看望，发现原本很乐天的 sayori 变得特别的失落，甚至开始怀疑自己活着有什么意义。
男主一阵劝和安慰后 sayori 终于好了一点，还和男主告白了，男主很开心啊，结果第二天男主去上学发现 sayori 又没来。
文学部的 monika 对男主说，她知道一些关于 sayori 的事情，然后给男主看了很奇怪的诗说是 sayori 写的，男主很担心，直接去 sayori 家，像上次一样，推开门……一看…………
我正准备探寻为啥 sayori 死了……结果这游戏居然乱码了…一阵乱码之后，游戏强行重启，重启后回到主界面，惊了……
原本主界面里的 sayori 也乱码了……
开始游戏也是乱码，我点了之后，游戏从头开始了，但是总感觉很多地方不对劲，包括一开始需要和 sayori 见面的部分，全部都是乱码，游戏里压根没有了任何关于 sayori 的内容……
我尝试去读盘，读一周目的 save，那时候还有 sayori，结果游戏存档报错，告诉我不存在 sayori 这个文件。
感觉 sayori 像是从游戏里抹消了。
不过游戏还可以继续玩儿，文学部剩下了 natuki 还有 yuri 和 monika，依然是老套路，每天写诗放在一起交流，这里你可以自由选择是找 natuki 或者 yuri，我倒是没有选过 monika，因为老是没她的选项……
无论是你选择 natuki 或者 yuri，在和她们对话的时候，她们总是会突然说一些很让人觉得不爽的话，譬如“Fuck you”，“Fuck monika”，“You bastard”之类的，而 natuki 和 yuri 还总是原本好好的，突然因为莫名其妙的原因吵起来，劝架的总是 monika，monika 劝架后还会对你说：“哎呀她们俩总是这样爱吵架，算了，跟我出去走走吧。”
尽管如此游戏还可以继续运行，你还是可以继续选择攻略 natuki 和 yuri。
如果你选择攻略 natuki，natuki 会突然失控变成一坨吓人的乱码鬼脸，这样……
如果你选择攻略 yuri，yuri 会越来越精神失常，最后甚至会对你大喊：“为什么你选择我，你明明可以去找 monika！”
游戏后来还会出现选项问你要选 yuri 还是 natuki，无论你选谁，画面都会出现乱码，最后一个巨大的 monika 用身体挡在了你的选项面前，说让你别选了，出去走走。
这时候 natuki 和 yuri 都变得疯狂，natuki 甚至没有了脸，对着你发狂的说：
“我和 yuri 都特别的傻逼，配不上你，为什么你不去选择更好的 monika 呢？”
你依然有选择 natuki 或者 yuri 还是 monika 的机会，选项再次出现，这时候鼠标会无限的自动指向 Monika，你可以强行用鼠标点别人，我选择了 yuri。
然后发狂的 yuri 掏出一把刀，对着自己一阵狂捅，倒在了血泊里，这里游戏直接全部乱码，就算你快进，也需要快进十分钟，血泊里的 yuri 就这么在教室里度过了三天三夜，整个尸体都凉了，你就这么目睹她这么死掉。
之后 monika 再次出现，说自己有点工作要做，之后游戏左上角出现一个控制台，两行命令，显示了 yuri 和 natuki 两个角色的数据已经被删除……之后游戏给了你一个选项：
游戏再次开始，没有 title ，没有别人，直接进入了新的界面，屏幕那一端的 monika 注视着你。
“我一直都喜欢你，深爱着你，但是你却总是选其他女孩。我无法忍受，我突然发现我居然可以修改这个游戏，虽然你是在 Steam 上玩，这让我费了点时间，但是无所谓，我依然可以通过 Steam 选择游戏，右键属性，找到本地游戏目录，在 character 目录下，找到了其他游戏女主的数据。”
”一开始你去找 sayori，所以我修改了 sayori 的游戏脚本，让她变得失落，变得悲观，给了她自杀的结局，然后删除了她的数据。“
”我原以为你会回到我身边，但是你又去找了 yuri 和 natuki，我修改了她们在游戏里的对话，让她们变成了不可理喻的婊子，结果你还是不选择我，太让我生气了，我决定也把她们俩干掉。“
只有游戏就剩下了 monika 和你对视……没有继续。
既然 monika 可以删除其他女主角的数据，那么你是不是可以用这种方法删除她呢？
下一个游戏的选项，需要你关闭游戏，打开 Steam，找到 Steam 里的游戏目录，在 character 目录下，找到唯一剩下的 monika.char 文件，把它删掉，再次启动游戏。
原本游戏里和你对视的 monika 变成了乱码：
游戏可以继续开始，和一开始一样，只是唯独缺少了 monika，依然可以写诗泡妞把妹，但是突然，游戏变得异常。你的青梅竹马 sayori 开始说奇怪的话，你从她的眼神里看到了 monika 的样子，原来 monika 没有真的离开，sayori 变成了新的 monika……
你可以选择拒绝，游戏突然崩溃，游戏另一端的 monika 陷入了绝望。
"There is no happiness here after all"
”hello? Can you hear me? I wrote a song for you..please listen...and Bye.“
音乐缓缓响起，monika 对你唱的歌，游戏进入了尾声，在删除过程中游戏飘起了 ED Staff。
最后的游戏界面是 monika 给你的信，信中说了她在游戏的世界里是多么的喜欢你，但是你拒绝了她，她已经绝望了，并且对你表示了永别，最后还不忘说感谢文学部的其他人。
感觉 monika 在说这一切完全是你的错……
然后游戏就不能用了，打开就是这封信和数据报错，必须要 Steam 重新下载才能玩了。
首先这个游戏本身展现了 python 写的 Galgame 引擎 renpy 的强大，很多特效都能做的出来，甚至可以做出“要求玩家进入游戏目录删除某个文件游戏才能继续”的骚操作，但是作为一个 Galgame，这个游戏在恋爱部分几乎没有，除了男主角一周目和 sayori 之间的告白稍微有那么点儿意思，大部分时间游戏都处于一种“诡异”的气氛里，一切的转折点就是 sayori 的自杀。
sayori 自杀的 CG 太突然，我压根没想到，直接受精……哦不是受惊了。
看到了 sayori 的死，还有后来的莫名其妙的乱码之后我意识到了，这个游戏应该是一个 metagame，就是游戏里的女主角对话的不是游戏里的那个“男主角”，而是在屏幕另一端的“你”，这是一个跳出了游戏本身“盒子”的游戏。
你看到了，游戏本身因为女主角 monika 对“你”的爱进行了修改，她为了你，删除了其他女主角，就为了和你在一起，你拒绝了她，反而删除了她的文件，她很伤心，直接把整个游戏都删除了，游戏本身就是这样。
这个游戏自从 sayori 死亡之后，我整个人在游玩的时候都是一种“草木皆兵”的状态，因为你不知道这个游戏什么时候会突然不正常，实际上这个游戏自那之后的确开始不正常，突然的乱码，突然的死人头，莫名其妙的诗歌语句，还有飘过的手绘的 sayori，以及各种纂改过的脏话对话，后来甚至还有各种恐怖片一样的黑白电视闪回演出效果，如果没有一颗提防的心，你难免会再次受到惊吓，我整个人非常紧张。
要知道玩一个 AVG 能玩儿到一开始受惊吓，然后时刻保持那种戒备的心理，很累的好吗！那种精神高度紧张的感觉只有玩尸体派对才有好吗！
很多人可能会因为这个游戏想起君と彼女と彼女の恋那个著名的 metagame，但是 Doki Doki Literature Club! 比起它来说在细节做的更多，游戏二周目的时候你如果尝试去读一周目的盘，monika 会蹦出来说“你真有意思，想作弊吗，没门。“，三周目被困在 monika 空间的时候，游戏是不能存盘的，你存盘的时候会说”存盘已经没有意义了，我就在这里，我哪儿都不去。“，而且进入三周目你尝试关闭游戏重启，再开后还是和 monika 脸对脸，不会有逃离的机会。
游戏很多的效果都是做出来的但是很逼真，包括什么 natuki sayori yuri 之类的 character 文件找不到的报错，其实都是游戏效果，最后的游戏文件缺失可能也是效果，但这都为这个 metagame 营造出了一种真实感。
不得不说 renpy 引擎比起日本那套祖传的还是好一些，而且是开源的多平台，不知道为什么就是没人用。
还有一个细节，Steam 上写的 Doki Doki Literature Club! 只支持 Mac OSX 和 Windows ，并没有 Linux，但实际上你把游戏文件提取出来，里面发现了启动的 bash 脚本，chmod +x 之后还是可以在 linux 下跑的，完全没有问题，甚至不需要你装太多的 python 包，只是不知道为什么官方不支持 Linux 平台。
从整体来看，Doki Doki Literature Club! 应该是一个 Bad End，而且作为一个标称的”恋爱“游戏，在剧情上并没有注重恋爱描写，全都下功夫在如何吓你一跳让你觉得 Cool 了，而且游戏除了中间一段有一点分支其实就是一本道，yuri 和 natuki 其实也不能真正攻略，我看到了游戏有卖 DLC 或许那个才是攻略的内容，但不管如此，Doki Doki Literature Club! 这个游戏在 Steam 界面上做的欺诈的确不太地道，它不适合所有人，比较适合主播，适合猎奇爱好者，适合那些像我一样来者不拒的，但是尽管如此还是会被吓一跳就是了。
最后不得不感慨 Doki Doki Literature Club! 与日本的君と彼女と彼女の恋之间的区别，大家都知道日本的游戏喜欢灌鸡汤，无论怎么疯狂，最后结局很可能还是回归本质，给你一种”纯爱“的感觉，君と彼女と彼女の恋的最后就是这样，Clock up 的游戏也经常这样，妹调教日记好像也算这样，某个妹妹把她哥的黄书扔了的游戏也是这样，于是很多人玩过这种扭曲的游戏之后，看到最后是一个比较正常的结局就会说”啊蜜汁感动“，但 Doki Doki Literature Club! 并不是日本制造，来自鬼佬，鬼佬可没有鸡汤，所以最后我们看到 monika 被男主拒绝后男主并没有什么纯爱，而是伴随着游戏自身的毁灭而结局。
其实 Doki Doki Literature Club! 这个游戏剧情也不是那么无可救药，改一改，把 monika 改成”俯在这个游戏上的女鬼“或许会更合理，一个女鬼躲在游戏里，期待着游戏那头的玩家爱上自己，自己可以从游戏里解脱，不惜纂改游戏数据，最后被男主整个删除，这样一来作为恐怖游戏那就合格了。并且还有点马亲王《她死在了QQ上》的那种 feel。
第四个是一堆莫名其妙的但是有那么点像 md5 的乱码。
想着看看如果我直接把 monika.chr 文件删掉会如何。结果一开始 sayori 告诉我说要等一下……游戏突然关闭，再次启动……
然后我发现 sayori 的文件被永久自我清除了……启动就是她在上吊，游戏彻底完蛋……
我解包了游戏，发现了很多有意思的东西，包括制作人的信，应该是全 CG 的奖励：
最后还有 monika 对你唱歌和说的话：
If you found this note in a small wooden box with a heart on it, then congratulations! You are probably the first person to read this. I didn’t really plan on sharing this with anybody, but for some reason I think it’s exciting that somebody out there, a complete stranger, will come across this note and read my story. Someone I will never meet, sharing such a personal bond with me. I’m fascinated that either one of us could die - even as soon as tomorrow - with the other being completely clueless to the fact. To you, my entire life is within this note, and so I will live for as long as your memory can carry me. Writing this, I’m wondering if that makes you feel fascinated or violated. It’s so exciting.
I’m sorry if my story is a bit disorganized, but I’d like to get it down while it’s still fresh on my mind. First, I’ll tell you a little bit about myself. I’m a first-year college girl and have led, by most standards, a pretty unspectacular life up to this point. I grew up in an upper-middle class school district with decent teachers. I did track in middle school and some of high school, and I’ve had two boyfriends. Now, I’m studying for a career in occupational therapy, because I feel the field is undervalued and provides tremendous help to people.
I’m giving you this background because there’s this strange misconception that if you want to kill someone then you’re either sick in the head or you have anger management issues. But, it’s very apparent that I don’t fall into either of those categories. It’s true that most murder cases are in a domestic setting where someone loses control of their anger or something. But the thing is that those people kill under provocation, whether by a singular outburst or by a slow-burning series of misfortunes. Those people kill because in that brief moment, they want a specific someone, for a specific reason, to be hurt or killed.
What I’m talking about is wanting to kill someone for no specific reason, maybe just to see what it’s like. Do you ever get that? I wouldn’t know how others feel, because it’s not something I ever talked about. But I’ve been curious about what it’s like to kill someone ever since I was a child. Not killing anyone in particular, just a random person. It’s always just fascinated me that if I put my mind to it, I can approach anyone, and in five minutes they would be completely gone from this Earth.
But I’ve never done so for a couple of reasons. First of all, for most of my life it was logistically impossible for me to do it without getting caught. I only got my driver’s license a couple years ago, and even then, the preparations would take too much time, definitely stirring suspicion. It was only once I started college that I realized this was no longer an obstacle.
Another reason is that I was afraid of causing harm to too many people. You might laugh reading that, at how hypocritical it sounds. But, let me explain: Why should I feel bad about killing someone if they’re too dead to care? Who would I be feeling bad for? Contrarily, it’s the grief of the living that I’d rather not be responsible for. Because of this, I knew it would take a good deal of research before finding a suitable person to kill, and I’ve never had the means to do so - again, until I started college.
And now, having just experienced it, I’d say it was pretty satisfying in the end. Something I would try again? Probably not, since my curiosity has already been satisfied. It really wouldn’t be the same a second time.
But anyway, if by any chance you’re also curious to kill someone, then you’re welcome to take notes. :)
I started a hobby of people-watching soon after I entered college. People-watching is interesting to me because it’s taking one of the infinite extras in your life and turning them into a main character - without them knowing, of course. It’s so easy to forget that every single one of the hundreds of strangers you pass every day has a life story as deep and complex as your own. One thing I noticed about people-watching, and wanting to kill someone, is that you are in more constant awareness of this. When I find a person to observe, their story slowly becomes more clear to me over time, gaps being filled - it really is amazing.
I usually went to grocery stores on weekends and looked around in people’s shopping carts. If I saw something that interested me, I decided to observe the person for a little bit. Of course, since my goal was to find someone to kill, I ruled out anyone who had children or a partner with them. Wedding rings were another tell-tale sign.
So maybe once a weekend, I would find someone who fit my criteria, at which point I would follow them home and note their address. From there, it became incredibly easy to investigate a little bit more; most people have normal work hours, meaning I could spend afternoons going through their mail or looking around in their house. I repeated this with several people (and had one close call), but for varying reasons I didn’t really feel satisfied enough with them to kill any of them.
I started getting a bit impatient and thought that I might just settle for killing the man named Devon, even though I didn’t really want to kill someone wealthy. But then, I came across someone new - someone who just, felt perfect. The feeling only strengthened as I investigated her further, and I knew that she would be the one for me to kill.
A young-looking woman I met at the grocery store, as per usual. She was doing some light shopping with a basket. Her hair was wavy and dark brown, sitting inelegantly on her slumped shoulders and surrounding her tired-looking face. Her bare fingers told me she might be single, but beyond that, my gut was almost certain of it. This woman just seemed so…plain, really. I guess I felt a greater acuity for the personal lives of strangers ever since I started my people-watching. But the way she carried herself, I just got the feeling that if she suddenly died, nobody would be around to miss her. Of course, I still wanted to investigate her a bit.
I followed my usual routine of checking out her place during her work hours. I learned immediately from her mail that her name is Linda Watson. Linda lived in a quiet apartment complex, her mailbox easily accessible right outside her door. Instead of quickly shuffling through it, I decided I could take her mail back to my dorm and return it before she was finished with work (she only lived about 15 minutes from me). I did some research and learned how to open and reseal the envelopes without damaging them, which took some technique along with a hair dryer, rubbing alcohol, and Q-tips.
This made it easy for me to learn a little more about her. Linda was a 33-year-old woman who worked for a small accounting firm - I’d rather not name the place outright. Her birthday was December 11th which, coincidentally, was approaching in a couple weeks. I also managed to find a bank statement that gave me a nice look into how she’s been spending her past month. It was at this point I realized that my assessment of Linda Watson as an extremely plain woman was pretty spot-on, because there was absolutely nothing interesting on the list. A trip to Old Navy, a bunch of Starbucks, something about $40 from Amazon - no restaurants, no movies, nothing that would really imply she was spending any time socializing. That aside, I also found a cooking magazine, so I guess she was into cooking.
Apartments are harder to break into than suburban homes, because there are fewer doors and windows. Every time I got Linda’s mail, I would check the front door and the windows in the back, but they were always locked. This was a bit frustrating because I was really interested in getting into her house. So, I came up with a sort of plan that I thought would be fun, even if it didn’t work.
Last Saturday, I visited Linda Watson’s apartment complex as I would on weekdays. The difference is that this time, I wanted her to be home. I thought it would be interesting to have a conversation with her. If I got lucky, I could take advantage of the situation to discreetly unlock a window from the inside. So, I walked up to her door wearing nothing warmer than a light sweatshirt, and knocked. The adrenaline rush was crazy. I was afraid I might screw something up.
The door opened, and in front of me stood Linda Watson, exactly as I remembered her from the grocery store. It was at that moment, making eye contact for the first time, that I realized I was running the risk of beginning to care about this person. As selfish as it is, I couldn’t kill a person I cared about, even if it’s a 33-year-old woman standing in a doorway with a slightly perplexed look on her face, giving me a reserved “Hello.”
Arms crossed from the cold, I shyly returned Linda’s greeting. I explained that I was walking my dog near the woodsy area behind the back of her apartment, and that he had gotten away. I had been looking for my dog for an hour and was wondering if Linda may have seen him roaming about. Of course, Linda sympathetically apologized for the situation and that she couldn’t be of use to me, but that she would keep an eye out. I wore a defeated expression in response, apologizing in return for troubling her.
It somehow went exactly as I had hoped - Linda invited me inside to warm up a bit with some coffee. I outwardly hesitated before accepting her offer, although on the inside I wanted to jump through the door and hug her for cooperating so well. And that’s how Linda Watson ended up with a 19-year-old girl next to her on the couch - who knows if it was just a nice gesture or if she really has no better way to spend her Saturdays than talking to some kid she just met (who happens to be interested in killing her).
Linda soon learned that my name is Maria (it’s not) and that I attend the nearby community college (I don’t). I was a little bit nervous that she would ask me too many questions because I didn’t have many answers prepared. I was able to steer the conversation toward her, and she was pretty happy to talk. I asked what she does, and she told me that she works for the accounting firm I already knew about, communicating with outside clients and keeping records. I told her I was pretty nervous about growing up. She told me to enjoy college and to make lots of friends because there’s less opportunity once you start working.
When I asked if she was married or anything, she laughed. Of course I knew she wasn’t married, but I wanted to hear more about her love life. She said that she doesn’t currently have a boyfriend (I guess she’s at least had boyfriends, but who knows how long ago). When I asked her about kids, she said she doesn’t want them until she gets a better job. On top of that, she told me that her family has a history of some genetic diseases such as arthritis and depression, which she is afraid to give to her kids.
It’s funny that she mentioned that because when I asked to use her bathroom, I noticed a tube of prescription pills on the sink. It was labelled duloxetine, which I looked up later and discovered that it is in fact an antidepressant. I had a joking thought that maybe by killing her I’d be doing her a favor, but quickly decided I was a terrible person for coming up with that.
The rest of the visit was pretty dull. We talked about food and some other mundane stuff before I eventually made an excuse to leave. I didn’t get the chance to unlock a window or anything like that, but I didn’t really feel the need to go through her apartment anymore. As early as the drive back to my dorm, I was already thinking about how I would best like to kill Linda Watson.
The choice was between effectiveness and fun. I decided to go with fun, because it would be way more satisfying to kind of dissect her as I killed her, rather than just getting it done and calling it a day. Fast-forward one week to December 13th - today, actually. Linda Watson turned 34 two days ago. I made a fun little wager with myself where if Linda was spending her birthday weekend alone, I would pay her a visit and kill her. If she was out or had company, I would stop by next week or something instead.
So this morning, I drove over to Lowe’s and bought an axe. Again, I expect you’re laughing, but that’s also kind of the point. An axe is so kind of cliche and a “movies” thing that I actually thought it would be the most fun. Swinging it at someone and everything, it’s a really entertaining image. They actually had a bunch of different axes, so I picked one that had a good weight but was still light enough for me to swing quickly.
The drive after getting the axe was when the adrenaline really picked up. All that kept going through my mind on the way over was “Wow, I’m really doing this.” Not in a bad way, just like a surprised this is real life sort of thing. I also got this strange rush of recollections of the time I spent with Linda. It was like my life was flashing before my eyes, except it was just the rather mundane hour I spent with Linda - like snippets of our conversations, the sound of her laugh, her facial expressions and stuff.
I also wondered to myself what the crazy serial killers would be feeling at a time like this - schizophrenic delusions? Sexual buildup? I have no idea, but what I felt was kind of like ridiculously alert and numb in the senses at the same time, however that’s possible.
Before getting out of the car, I had the sense to stuff the axe into my backpack to look a little less ridiculous walking across the parking lot. The handle was sticking out, but that didn’t really matter. At that point my heart was pounding so hard I could feel my throat throbbing. I tried controlling my breath, but it’s really hard to not breathe fast when your heart is pounding like that.
I reached Linda Watson’s door and quietly put my ear to it after setting down my backpack. I heard a voice that wasn’t hers - company? No, it was just the TV, mixed with her occasional tapping footsteps behind the door. I actually kept my ear there for a really freaking long time, because I wanted to make absolutely sure nobody was over. Probably 10 minutes of that and a lot of reassuring myself convinced me.
I quietly opened my backpack zipper and held the axe in my hands. My fiercely shaking hands. What the hell was this kind of reaction that my body was making? I told my body to shut up, that it’s no big deal, but of course it wouldn’t listen. It was actually bizarre how much my hands were shaking. It must be the adrenaline buildup. I rolled my eyes at myself and got my hand to rest on the doorknob. If it’s locked, I’ll knock, it’ll be basically the same. I took a deep breath and forced my muscles into action.
I swiftly turned the doorknob. Not locked. In one movement, I opened up the door and slipped inside. Linda Watson, just a few steps away into the kitchen. I see - she was in the middle of cooking. She immediately jumped and turned around, startled. I expected that. Quickly, I let go of the doorknob and adjusted the axe into both hands. In the following split second, I realized that she would probably start to make a lot of noise. Looking back, I’m an idiot for not considering that. Just as Linda’s mouth opened to speak - maybe even started speaking - I forcefully swung my axe into the side of her head.
But, my axe was facing backwards. I hit her with the blunt end of the blade. I actually did this on purpose, because in that split second I somehow decided that it would be the way to keep her noise to a minimum. It actually worked. I felt barely any resistance in the swing as I collided with her head, knocking it clean aside. Linda’s half-formed syllable came out as a kind of weird grunt - a noisy exhalation is probably the best I could describe it. That happened at the same time as her head smacked into the cabinet from the force, and she fell backwards without any ability to keep her balance. I didn’t hesitate at all to keep swinging at her while she was half lying down on the ground, this time my axe facing the right way. I didn’t really know where to swing, so I kind of just started hacking at her collarbone area and chest. It didn’t feel like the axe was going too deep, but there was a nice “thunk” sort of sound every time the axe embedded into her. I even felt the soft sinking sensation ripple into my hands, like the axe was a kind of physical extension of my sense of touch.
On a whim, I swung once at her throat, but most of the swing actually missed and I hit the floor by accident, causing a loud, dull whack to resonate through the apartment. I didn’t have time to think about it. I swung again with better aim and got a more centered hit, feeling the bone or cartilage or whatever is in there, so I must have split it open. Right after that, I decided to swing at her face, and I got this diagonal cut along her nose and mouth, which felt pretty good so I did it once more.
I finally briefly stopped to survey the damage. Linda was bleeding ridiculously. The blood was kind of coming out in waves, in sync with her beating heart, probably. It was pooling all around her and riding along the cracks between the tiles. Her light blue shirt was all torn up and stained dark, kind of mixed with a fleshy mess around her chest. It was all just glistening red. Her face wasn’t much better, covered in dripping red at this point, and her lip was kind of hanging off, revealing red-stained teeth in a really weird way, like a zombie or something.
Linda wasn’t dead, though. Her limbs were kind of weakly, aimlessly trying to move while she was stuck on her back. More than anything, she reminded me of a bug that you crush but it still pitifully moves its legs around before it dies completely. That’s basically what she was doing. But I didn’t know how long it would take for her to die, or what kind of condition she was in. I ended up grabbing a big knife that was on the counter that she was using to cut up meat. Trying to step around the blood, I reached down and carved into the upper half of her neck, trying to sort of saw it from the left side to the right. It was a little awkward because the area was so soft and squished around the knife as I was cutting. But the sensation was completely different from the axe. It actually felt like I was cutting a tough piece of raw meat (which I guess technically, I was).
The blood started pouring out, and I hoped that I severed the most major arteries in there. It must have worked, because after a moment Linda’s limb movements kind of just had the strength drained from them, soon resting still on the floor. I took a few seconds to catch my breath. No time to stick around and think about the experience. I shook the knife blade through a dirty pan in the sink to clean off the blood, then threw the knife into my backpack. I did the same with the axe. I also took her laptop that was sitting on the counter. It had some recipe open for veal and mushrooms. I didn’t really take the laptop to use it, since I have a perfectly good one myself that I got for college. I just wanted to look through it for fun.
I finally went outside and closed the door behind me. I got some blood on my sweater and jeans. But funnily enough, I actually anticipated that so I wore dark colors.
The drive back to my dorm was just a constant replaying of the experience in my head. I guess that’s still kind of happening even now, actually. But it felt pretty nice. Linda Watson is dead. I kind of let the weight of that sink in. The sensation of having completely removed a human life from existence. It’s crazy. I don’t know how else to describe it.
Anyway, I threw the axe and knife into a dumpster on campus, which I think is picked up every Monday, so they’ll be gone by then. My roommate goes home on the weekends, so I have the dorm to myself today. It gave me the chance to go through Linda’s website history. I was right in thinking that’s where her deepest secrets would lie.
There was actually a lot of dirty stuff, like the names of websites for porn videos and stories and things like that. Same with her searches. A lot of the websites were boring, like cooking websites and recipes, and game websites like Bejeweled and stuff. I eventually got to the “one week ago” section of her history, and it gave me a chill.
There were a whole bunch of searches like “methods of suicide”, “how to tie a noose”, “dangerous household chemicals”, “carbon monoxide poisoning” - like a lot of them. She was probably ready to write a book on suicide after all the research she did. So I guess Linda was contemplating suicide. I wonder if it was influenced by her depression.
The irony is actually striking. Maybe Linda was going to die anyway. Or maybe she couldn’t find the courage to do it. If that were the case, I almost literally gave her a birthday present by killing her. That’s actually really comical in a messed-up way, and it leaves a weird taste in my mouth. The part I don’t get is that I didn’t see any of those searches up until the “one week ago” section, nothing more recent than that.
I ended up throwing the laptop in the dumpster with the other stuff. It’s been a few hours since then, so I’ve had some time to calmly think about everything. Like I said, it was pretty satisfying and I’m glad I finally got around to it. I feel like I can finally cross it off my bucket list, or like I’m tying loose ends with myself. This is probably the first and last time I’ll write the name Linda Watson - it’s back to living a normal college life, except I might do some people-watching every now and then because it’s definitely fun and interesting.
But I’ll always wonder how many people there are like me. I’m sure there has to be a lot, because there is just nothing strange about it to me, being curious about killing someone. Sadly, it’s something that people can’t exactly just talk about, so I guess I’ll never know. I’m sure that anyone would just lie about it even if you asked them. But you can’t help but wonder if that person in the grocery store, who stares at you as you pass by, might be considering what it would be like to kill you. If I could, I would tell them all about it, so they could decide for themselves. But who knows, maybe I got lucky, and that person is you. I actually really, really hope so.
“Sayori.chr reveals a QR Code that links to a website with the URL www。projectlibitina。co m after turning it into an OGG file and viewing it under a spectograph.
Monika.chr reveals a teaser poem after turning the chr file into a png, taking the white square in the middle of the PNG and converting it to binary, converting the binary to text, then decoding the text via Base64.
Natsuki.chr reveals a texture or warped female face after converted to a PNG and manipulated in an image editor.
Yuri.chr when converted to a txt file and decoded via Base64 becomes an exerpt of a poem/creepypasta that the developer has admitted he submitted and wrote 2 years ago, around the time this project would have started.
應該是 SteamOS 不支持檔案操作的關係？
如果不能刪除 Monika 的話就不能結局了
3，我没兴趣挖掘这个精神病作者藏在游戏里的所有彩蛋，我只看故事，而且 Staff 也飘了，故事也 End 了。
接触到renpy是在玩witch trainer的时候。。。作为一个半成品游戏，一直觉得renpy的功能比rpg maker好多了，能实现不少创意。。。
握草....... 嚇死我了 , 超級鬼異