Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86: ’A Traitor, Perhaps?’

The empty white room was eerily still, its silence pressing against Aden’s ears like a heavy weight. He sat cross-legged on the ground, staring blankly at his sister’s iPad, his finger trembling as he scrolled through the last few lines of the novel.

"Hey, Kaz..." Aden’s voice wavered, breaking the oppressive quiet.

Without warning, Kaz appeared in front of him as though she’d always been there. Her wide smile gleamed unnaturally bright against the stark whiteness.

"Yes, Aden?"

Aden blinked, trying to steady his breathing. "What happens in the end?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Kaz tilted her head, her smile unwavering but her expression puzzled. "Eh? What do you mean?"

"After Florian dies... what happens to Heinz? To Lucius and Lancelot? Cashew? Everyone?"

Kaz’s smile faltered just a fraction. Her eyes darkened, though her tone remained light. "Why do you need to know?" she asked again.

Aden shifted uneasily. "I-I don’t know? It feels... abrupt, just ending it with his death."

Before he could say more, Kaz vanished. Gone in an instant, like a flickering light snuffed out.

Aden’s heart skipped a beat. "Kaz?" he called, his voice rising. Panic clawed at his chest as he stood up, spinning around. "Kaz? Where are you?! Kaz, this isn’t funny!"

Only endless white greeted him. The floor beneath his feet had no texture, no definition—it was as if he stood suspended in a void. Aden broke into a run, his sneakers scuffing against the featureless ground, his breaths coming faster with each step.

"Kaz! Answer me!"

His voice echoed into nothingness.

Desperation gnawed at him. He kept running until a shadow flickered in the distance—a solitary figure hunched over, trembling.

Aden’s pulse raced. "Kaz?" he called out, his voice uncertain.

No response.

As he drew closer, the figure became clearer. Thin build. Purple hair.

Aden’s steps faltered. "Florian...?" he whispered.

The figure’s shoulders shook with silent sobs. Slowly, Florian lifted his face, tear-streaked and desperate. His eyes, wide and glassy, locked onto Aden’s.

"Florian, what are you—?"

Aden’s words died in his throat as his gaze dropped to Florian’s neck. Blood seeped through dark stitches, thick and glistening. The wound wasn’t clean; it was ragged, as though someone had crudely sewn his head back onto his body. Fresh crimson dripped down, staining his pale skin.

Aden’s stomach twisted. "Oh god... Florian—"

"Save him," Florian whispered, his voice cracking, raw with anguish.

Aden stumbled forward. "Save who? What are you talking about? Are you okay?"

Florian’s lips trembled. His fingers dug into Aden’s arm with a strength that belied his fragile appearance. "SAVE HIM!" he screamed, the sound echoing through the endless void.

Aden flinched, his ears ringing. "Florian, calm down—"

Before he could finish, something horrifying happened.

The stitches along Florian’s neck strained, pulling taut. Then, with a grotesque tear, his head slid to the side. Blood gushed from the wound, spraying across Aden’s shirt. Time seemed to slow as Florian’s head toppled, his face contorted in a scream.

Aden’s breath hitched. His legs went weak, nausea surging up his throat. "No—NO!"

Florian’s body collapsed to the ground, twitching violently. But his head—his severed head—continued to scream, eyes wild with terror.

Aden’s own scream tore from his chest, raw and primal. He stumbled backward, heart slamming against his ribs, bile rising in his throat.

The screaming wouldn’t stop.

Florian’s disembodied voice echoed through the void, high-pitched and unrelenting.

"Save him... Save him... Save him..."

Aden clutched his head, shaking, unable to drown out the sound. His vision blurred as the horror pressed in on him.

"STOP!" he shrieked. "Please—"

"—stop!" Florian’s breath hitched as he bolted upright, sweat dripping down his forehead and matting his hair to his skin. His heart raced erratically, pounding against his ribcage. The sharp ache in his limbs and the throbbing pain in his skull made him wince. He clutched his head, muttering through clenched teeth.

"Fuck. My head." He grimaced, fingers pressing against his temples. "Fuck, fuck, fu—"

A dry voice interrupted his spiraling.

"What colorful language you’ve got there."

Florian froze, his breath catching in his throat.

Heinz’s brow lifted imperceptibly. "You?"