A/N: This is my first fanfic, and i'm grateful that it has to be the game that i loved so much #mentally hugging Garry

And thanks to my friend Mizumori Fumaira, I can make this happen.

Hope you can enjoy this~~

I don't own this game, I just own my imagination.

The Last Rose

Prologue:

She ran as fast as she could.

No matter how sore her feet had become, she kept on running.

As far as possible from that thing.

The sickly, growling noise behind her back that echoed through the dark, empty hallway is getting clearer.

It was near.

Her escape plan was an exceptional failure when she find herself on a dead end, which walls was covered in blood stain and black roses sprouted from its crack.

It was futile. She can't escape.

From behind a dark, shadowy hand grabbed her legs, sending her body to fall in the cold linoleum floor, and she couldn't do anything but to scream as the hand dragged her body to the opposite direction. She scratched the floor, leaving those horrifying marks on the floor. The overflowing tears from her crimson irises failed to make whatever was dragging her back change its mind. Instead, it burst into a horrible series of laughter, as is shifted its glowing blue eyes to her frantic state.

The shadowy hand then crawled from her legs up her neck, and with every power possible, it clutched itself on her neck, strangling her.

"NOO!"

She woke up from the bed, almost jumping that made her whole bed shaking. The warm tears flew slowly down her cheeks. She gasped, searching for the air as if she was drowned a moment ago. Upon successfully catching her breath, she looked around the dark surrounding, which was only illuminated by the moonlight above through her -strangely enough- opened window. The icy breeze of night slapped her cheeks, instantly changing her tears into ice.

She was still in her room. Her wardrobe was still in the farthest place from her bed. Her messy, book-filled desk, and her nightstand which stood beside her bed was still in place.

Realizing her window had been opened, she quickly got out of the bed and closed it carefully, making as little sound as possible which wouldn't wake her parent up.

She returned to her bed shortly, and hugged her knee. She inhaled deeply and tried to recollect her thought. The dark linoleum, the shadow, the glowing eyes…

Ugh, it was too much. She clutched her head with both head, trying her best to forget about it.

"Why….I dream of it again…"

xXx

It was late at night when he looked at his watch. 'It's 11.30 p.m already?' he murmured as he made his way back home through the dark alley. It was foolish of him of accept the party invitation from his friend, which turned out to be nothing but complete waste of time in the karaoke, surrounding themselves with alcohol like a bunch of idiot. He wasn't a huge fan of drinking, in fact he hates it. Because the stinks only reminded him of his drunk, abusive father

He sighed heavily, and clutched his coat tighter so that the cold air of night didn't get to him. He would be too busy if he were to catch cold now, because tomorrow would be the first day in Westhill high school as chemistry teacher.

It was lucky of him. He was short on money when suddenly he got a call from his friend, saying that there was a vacant job as chemistry teacher on Westhill High. This friend was actually his mother' friend, a dark-haired gentleman on his late 50, who worked as the art teacher.

He eventually arrived at his apartment. He grabbed his key from his coat' pocket, inserting it to the keyhole and turning it until it made a clicking sound, and opened the door. He turned the lights on, revealing a messy, full of boxes room. His apartment had dark-painted walls all over, and the only furniture it has was only a small brown sofa and a small table not far from it. Well, he just moved today and thanks to the party invitation, he had no time for unpacking. He saw the unpleasant messiness and could only sigh.

He hung his coat from a hanger near the door and dropped himself to the sofa. He took a cigarette from a pack on the table, lit the cigarette up, and inhaling through the poisonous smoke that threaten to damage his lungs slowly. He stared blankly at the ceiling when sudden blackout hit. 'Damn!' he yelled involuntarily. It was completely dark, only light from his cigarette was visible. He rose from the sofa, desperately trying to make his way out to the front door –to let lights from outside enter the pitch black room- before he stumbled his feet to the table and comically fall to the floor. And as he grunted, the lights were back. Great….

He disliked dark, the pitch black darkness when you can see nothing. It was uncomfortable, and to make matter worst, it reminded him of Guertena' nightmare gallery. He knew that he could lose his life at any second there, with those frame-popping women and headless mannequin chasing him all over the place. That place really scarred him for life, at the point he even scared of blonde people for a month after the incident.

He got up from the floor-knowing that it wasn't the best place to sleep- and returned to the sofa. Feeling tired, he put his cigarette off and prepared to sleep. He grabbed a small cloth to be used as blanket from nearby box and covered himself behind it. Couple of second later he goes into a deep, and thankfully, peaceful slumber.

And that's the end of the prologue, I guess?

So...review please? I would appreciate it so much, you know, since this is my first one..