99 Rules of Terror: The OCD Player

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I suffered from severe OCD, with a crippling obsession for the number 99.

A single bottle of water had to be finished in exactly 99 sips. When the high school football captain got thirsty and snatched half my bottle, I snapped.

I snapped three of his ribs and put him in a hospital bed for two full weeks.

Then I got sucked into a survival horror game. While the other players dropped to their knees and shrieked, I just stood there, pointing my finger and counting the monsters one by one.

"Why are there only ninety-eight? Where the hell is the last one!" My eyes flooded with blood as I clenched my fists tightly, roaring at the darkness.

"RRight here!" The twin bosses crept out of the shadows, trembling.

I ground my back teeth together, cracking my knuckles so loud it echoed: "Now there's one fucking extra"

Chapter 1

When I was five, my mom told me she'd come back to pick me up as soon as I counted to 99. She never came back. Ever since then, I developed a crippling obsession with the number 9 and anything related to it. My severe OCD got so bad that I lost my mind and snapped the ribs of the arrogant high school quarterback.

Today, right as I took my 98th sip of water, the cup in my hand suddenly morphed into a medical measuring beaker. The water turned into a thick, sticky red liquid. A dilapidated, gloomy hospital materialized in front of me. Crows cawed miserably, and a bone-chilling wind swept past.

[Welcome, Player Silas, to the Ultimate Game Instance: Abandoned Hospital.]

[Clear all stages and survive to pass.]

[Current player count: 60.]

[The instance has begun. Wishing you good health~]

Screams erupted from the other players all around me.

"Wasn't I just watching Netflix? Where am I? Mom! I want to go home"

"No! My kid is only five! What's going to happen to my baby without me"

"Bastards! Let me go back, or I'm pressing charges"

Before the thug with the thick gold chain could finish threatening to press charges, a six-foot-long syringe plummeted from the sky. It skewered him straight through like a giant American BBQ skewer.

The plunger pulled upward. Bright red blood slowly filled the massive barrel until the thug was sucked dry, reduced to nothing but skin and bones.

The rest of the crowd felt their legs turn to jelly. They clamped their hands tightly over their mouths, not even daring to breathe too hard.

But I couldn't hold back the boiling itch under my skin anymore. I smashed the measuring beaker hard against the ground. It shattered with a sharp crack, sending blood splattering everywhere.

"You bastards Bastards! Just one more sip and it would have been 99! Why wouldn't you let me finish!" My roar echoed through the abandoned hospital.

Every player's breathing stopped, waiting for me to meet the exact same fate as the thug with the gold chain.

Suddenly, a few lines of comments popped up in my vision:

[This newbie is totally giving off opening-scene cannon fodder vibes. His only purpose is to be a bad example for the other players. Absolute dogshit!]

[I love watching these posers get one-shotted right at the start. Blood-Drawing Nurse, hurry up and do it! I can't wait to see the blood spatter!]

But there wasn't a single sound around us. Nothing but my heavy, ragged breathing.

Right then, a tiny syringebarely the size of a pinky fingerdrifted slowly down from the sky. It plopped onto the puddle of blood in front of me, splashing up two tiny crimson droplets.

The comments flipped out:

[What the hell? Did the Blood-Drawing Nurse get sucked dry? Why is this one such a dud?]

[Holy shit! Now I've seen everything! The game's definitely glitched out!]

A guy who looked like a runway model stepped out of the crowd. He wore a massive figure-8 earring in his left ear. "Hey. I'm Brooks, a veteran player. Wanna team up?"

[It's Brooks! Why is he approaching a noob right off the bat?]

[This guy's luck is insane! Teaming up with Brooks right at the start!]

I stared at the massive figure-8 earring dangling from his left ear. The frantic manic energy inside me just got drenched in gasoline. "Why are you wearing an 8-shaped earring?"

As I spoke, a tremor shot through my body. My voice dropped to a harsh whisper, and thick red veins crawled across my sclera. It was a classic symptom of severe OCD, but right now, it just looked freakishly unsettling.

The other players scrambled backward, looking at me like I was the actual monster in this horror game.

[Ungrateful prick! How dare he reject Brooks? He deserves to die. He's definitely getting his head blown off in the first round!]

[Just a death wish. Thinks he's so special. Isn't he just trying to steal the spotlight from Brooks?]

Brooks narrowed his eyes, instinctively taking a half-step back. He muttered under his breath, "Looks a little unhinged. Dead weight."

He patted his clothes in disgust, like just standing near me would give him bad luck. He turned to leave, but before walking away, he threw out a warning to the crowd.

Chapter 2

"Listen up, everyone. The monsters in this instance feed on your fear. The more terrified you are, the stronger they get. That's all I'm going to say. Good luck!"

He took a few steps, then paused and glanced back over his shoulder. "If any of you girls are confident in your looks, come find me. I can offer some protection. It'll just require a tiny sacrifice on your part. But compared to losing your life, it's a small price to pay, right?"

He let his gaze linger on a few of the younger, prettier girls, his lips pulling up into a crooked smirk like he thought he was charming them.

[Brooks is making his move! Brace yourselves, ladies!]

[I'm betting Brooks gets a five-kill streak this time!]

I was slowly getting my breathing under control when the system chime rang out:

[Warning! Players must enter the hospital immediately. Failure to comply will result in immediate punishment.]

The players who were still frozen in shock snapped out of it at the sound. They bolted toward the outpatient entrance.

I sprinted as fast as I could, too. I had to be the 9th person through those doors!

The system chime continued:

[Stage One: Outpatient Terror.]

[Players must select a consultation room to register, state their symptoms, and follow the doctor's treatment instructions. Survive one night to clear the stage.]

[Hint: There are consultation rooms numbered 0C99. Only one player per room. The higher the number, the higher the difficulty and the probability of death.]

Everyone immediately scrambled for the lowest-numbered rooms.

A guy in a muscle tank slammed his fist hard into the single mom's back. "Get the hell out of the way! This one is mine!"

The mom crumpled, clutching her back as tears streamed down her face. "No! I found it first, I"

The meathead still shoved past her and claimed Room 2.

Ignoring the pain, the young mom wiped her face and scrambled up to fight for the next available room. But the further down the hall they went, the higher the numbers got. The faster players had already claimed the good ones.

With her shoulders shaking, she finally pushed open the door to Room 51.

Screams, curses, and the thuds of fists hitting flesh echoed up and down the corridor.

Meanwhile, Brooks strolled down the hall like he was browsing a supermarket aisle, taking his sweet time. Finally, he let out a confident chuckle, settled on Room 66, and pushed the door open.

[That's Brooks for you! He could have easily picked a room under 60, but he's jumping straight to the hard mode!]

[The death rate for rooms past 30 is already over 70%. Brooks is a literal savior! The final reward will definitely make him invincible!]

A few minutes later, almost everyone had crammed themselves into the first 60 rooms.

The players stuck with rooms over 30 had faces as white as chalk. They only opened their doors, hands shaking uncontrollably, when the system chimed again to rush them.

I was still out in the hallway, marching deeper into the shadows with absolute certainty.

[Haha, he acted so tough earlier, look at him freeze up now! Welcome to Room 60 and up, buddy.]

[Should have just sucked it up and teamed with Brooks. He easily could have scored him a room under 30.]

I didn't even blink, just kept counting the plaques on the doors. "66 67 68 89 90 91"

[Holy shit, he's lost his mind! He's still going!]

[Did he just give up? Some of the rooms in the back have literally never been opened before!]

[Don't tell me he's aiming for]

"97 98 99!" My eyes lit up. The knot tight in my chest finally uncoiled.

Thank god. Room 99 actually existed.

Without a second thought, I pumped the brass doorknob exactly nine times with my right hand. Nine for eternity.

I pushed the door open, stepped inside with my left foot first, and then instantly pulled it back out.

Chapter 3

[Haha, finally clicked for him? He's frozen stiff!]

[Too late now! You touch the knob, you gotta open the door! Die, poser!]

I ignored the comments. I lifted my left foot and, with the exact same posture, stepped inside again then pulled back stepped in pulled back

On the ninth time, I finally let out a long breath and stepped all the way in. So satisfying

[Did did the feed just lag?]

[I don't I don't think so.]

[I'm losing my mind]

[+1]

The consultation room had peeling green paint over white walls, straight out of the 90s. The sickly yellow light flickered above. The heavy stench of blood smacked me right in the face.

When my OCD wasn't acting up, I was a massive coward. The kind of guy who had to sleep with the lights on and heavy metal blasting on loop just to feel safe. A layer of cold sweat instantly coated my spine.

Footsteps echoed from behind the privacy screen. My breathing hitched.

Am I going to die? Can they at least kill me nine times?

An old doctor with a kindly face and thick glasses stepped out from behind the screen. A stethoscope hung around his neck. In his hand, he held a hand-shaped cherry jam pie. The red jam oozed out, dripping onto the floor with a wet splat, splat.

The old doctor's jaws ground together with a sickening crunch. "Apologies. I skipped breakfast. Just getting a little something in my stomach."

His voice was dead calm. Like he was talking about grabbing a hot dog on the street.

[Holy shit! Isn't that the old Head Doctor from the Outpatient Ward? He hasn't spawned in years!]

[Yeah! Last time he showed up, he chewed a player raw! That crunching sound is literally my childhood trauma! So he's the boss of Room 99. This poser is dead meat!]

The Head Doctor swallowed, his cheek muscles shifting as he sat down. He caught me shivering and his lips curled upward. "Tell me. What's ailing you?"

I cleared my throat. My brain spun, cycling through every issue on my last physical. Finally, I let out a heavy sigh. "Doc, I have severe OCD."

The Head Doctor visibly paused, but his jaws kept grinding. The crunching only got louder. Snap, crack, crunch

"That's an easy fix. Eat this." He shoved his half-eaten hand-shaped pie toward me.

Staring at the cherry pie that looked exactly like a severed human hand, my knees gave out. I hit the floor hard.

Right then, tiny baby hands and feet started tearing their way out from under the old doctor's skin, clawing blindly at the air. His arms twisted and stretched until his knuckles dragged on the tiles. His hands warped into pitch-black, jagged claws, gleaming under the flickering light.

"Not hungry?" His voice dragged like grinding metal, devoid of gender.

He spat the chewed-up pie crust and red jam onto the floor with a wet smack. "Let me see which part of you looks like a good appetizer"

What he didn't notice was the thick red veins rapidly webbing across my eyes.

"Let's start with"

"Ninety-one times!" My low voice cut him off.

"What?" The Head Doctor tilted his head. He jammed a pitch-black claw into his ear, stabbing it straight through the other side. His twisted smile only grew wider.

"I said, you only chewed ninety-one times!" I pushed myself off the floor. I started walking slowly toward him. "The number ninety-one is disgusting. Why didn't you chew eight more times? Why didn't you chew exactly ninety-nine times before spitting it out?"

"Are are you out of your fucking mind!" The Head Doctor blurted out.

Chapter 4

"You're the one who's sick! And look at this pieyou bit into it completely off-center! There's only four and a half fingers left! The structural integrity is ruined! How do you have the nerve to hand this to me!" I clutched my head, my voice ripping out of my throat, raw and broken.

The head doctor let out a guttural, beastly roar from deep in his throat. "Go to hell!"

He swung his pitch-black claws at me, aiming to slice me into ribbons.

But the jagged claws rapidly deteriorated in mid-air. By the time they hit my shoulder, they had shrunk back into regular acrylic nails and snapped right off.

"Ah!" The head doctor stared at his snapped acrylics in sheer disbelief. The baby hands and feet tearing through his skin shriveled up, crumbling into ash.

"My power! Where is my power!" he shrieked. "You! Aren't you terrified at all?!"

"Terrified? You need to explain to me right now why you didn't chew ninety-nine times!" I grabbed the mashed-up pie crust off the floor and shoved it straight back into his mouth. "Chew it again!"

The same old doctor who had just lunged at me like a wild beast was now huddled in the corner, his mouth twitching violently as he chewed.

"Wrong! A hundred and one! That's two extra! Start over! Three short! I told you, you were three short! Why the hell did you chew four times? Start over!"

Just like that, I kept him going until dawn. Only then did I watch in deep satisfaction as the head doctor, trembling uncontrollably with snot and tears smeared all over his face, slowly faded away.

"I'm retiring I'm filing for retirement"

I stepped out of the consultation room. Other players were trickling out into the hallway. Most of them looked sick to their stomachs. A few even had some unidentifiable paste crusted around their mouths.

The young single mom came out too. She was on her knees, violently dry-heaving until pure stomach acid spilled onto the floor. Her face was as pale as a sheet of paper.

The system chimed:

[Congratulations to all players for clearing Stage One.]

[Current remaining players: 36.]

I blinked hard. Twenty-four people had died in just the first stage. Almost all of them had chosen rooms above 30. The only players who survived rooms past 50 were the single mom, Brooks, and me.

I walked over and gently patted her back. "You holding up?"

She shot me a grateful look. "Thanks" Then she hunched over and puked again, spitting up a writhing clump of maggots mixed with tangles of black hair. "Sorry you had to see that. I just have to get home. My kid is waiting for me."

My chest tightened a fraction. "How old are you? You already have a kid?" She looked about my age, and I hadn't even held a girl's hand before.

"I'm twenty-three."

"Huh! Same as me." I replied.

A chubby guy leaning against the wall nearby chimed in. "Crazy coincidence. I'm twenty-three too."

Right then, Brooks strolled over. He looked down at us, his voice dripping with authority. "You're all twenty-three?"

I instantly hated the guy. "Why? Does my age remind you of your daddy?"

Brooks raised an eyebrow. He ignored me and glanced at the other surviving players standing around. "If I had to guess, you're all twenty-three too?"

The people around us nodded one by one.

"Interesting." He crooked a finger at me. "Come here. I want a word with you."

I scoffed. "I can come over, but I'm probably gonna rip that stupid earring right out of your ear. I've been holding back for way too long."

Brooks frowned, his hand instinctively shooting up to touch the figure-8 earring on his left ear. Still, he pressed on. "You made it out of Room 99. That means you've got insane luck, and in this game, luck is everything. I'm allowing you to team up with me. You can even share the girls who are willing to offer themselves up!"

Chapter 5

I tilted my head a full ninety degrees, staring dead at him. "You really ought to rip that earring out. Shove it in your mouth so I don't have to look at it!"

Brooks's expression darkened. He yanked open a consultation room door and walked right in without hesitation.

"The rooms are safe during the day. Any girls hoping for my protection can come find me. Five max at a time. First come, first served. Keep in mind, I cleared Room 66 without breaking a sweat." He flashed what he probably thought was a charming smile and shut the door.

Watching him made my stomach churn, even worse than looking at the single mom's puke.

Right then, the ceiling panels slowly slid open. Countless chunks of what looked like raw pork plummeted from above, slamming heavily onto the floor. It was the players who hadn't cleared the stage.

A few girls' legs gave out, collapsing onto the floor. They clamped their hands tightly over their ears and let out ear-piercing shrieks. The heavy stench of blood mixed with the sharp smell of urine flooded the hospital.

Several of the prettier girls scrambled over each other, desperately trying to open Brooks's door.

I grabbed the single mom by the wrist and shook my head at her.

She stopped dead in her tracks, jerking her arm a couple of times. "I have to live."

"Going in there doesn't mean you'll live," I said.

The mom still hesitated, shifting her weight back and forth.

[This poser deserves to die! That mom is prime material. Why the hell is he ruining the show for me!]

[I really wanted to see her face drop from hope to pure despair. Women without kids just can't pull off that kind of look!]

Seeing those comments cemented the fact that Brooks was pure garbage. Forced to pick between survival and getting laid, I figured a smart guy like Brooks would definitely choose survival first.

Held back by my grip, the mom slumped onto the floor.

Just then, a group of guys surrounded me.

"You cleared Room 99. Please, man, carry us through this, okay?"

Great. These guys didn't even have the option of latching onto Brooks, so they were treating me like some kind of savior.

One guy with high, protruding cheekbones and sunken eye sockets aggressively jammed his finger into my chest, threatening me. "You don't have a choice. Wherever you go for the next stages, we go! If you don't carry us, you're not clearing this game either!"

The manic itch under my skin was starting up again.

"I can carry people, but your face looks way too much like the number 7! I don't like it! Why couldn't you look like a 9? Tell me, where the hell did you hide the other two numbers!" I yelled.

"What the fuck, you little punk, did you not hear"

Before he could finish his sentence, the other guys in the group scrambled, grabbing his arms and legs. Ignoring his string of curses, they hauled him up and chucked him far down the hall before scurrying back.

I kept my word, sharing the theory I'd pieced together. "From what I saw in my room, the more terrified you are, the faster you die."

It was the truth. If my OCD hadn't triggered last night, I'd be just another chunk of meat on the floor right now.

"Just imagine the monsters in front of you are people you hate. Feel whatever emotion you want. As long as it isn't fear, you have a shot at surviving!" I explained.

They nodded, deep in thought, thanked me, and walked away.

The daylight hours burned away fast. Night quickly fell, and the system chime rang out:

[Stage Two: The Cute Ward.]

[Take good care of the patients in your ward and fulfill all their needs. Earn a cute hug from your patient before dawn to clear the stage.]

[One room per person.]

This floor didn't have room numbers, which saved me from having a breakdown. The single mom and I each picked a random room.

The second I pushed the door open, the stench of garbage left to rot for half a month slammed into my face. But looking around, the entire hospital room was spotlessly clean.

Chapter 6

A tiny body lay on the hospital bed. Tubes jammed into her nose and mouth, hooking her to a mess of monitoring equipment. The machines beeped relentlessly.

I stepped closer. It was a cute little girl.

"Help me" Her voice was a fragile whisper when she heard me come in.

I tiptoed over. "What do you need, little girl?"

"I I hurt"

No matter how I asked, she just kept repeating that same phrase.

I couldn't fulfill her needs. I didn't even know what she wanted. Getting a "cute hug" was out of the question.

The little girl suddenly convulsed. The tubes tangled all over her body jerked wildly in a chaotic mess. Zero symmetry!

The constant beeping was already driving me insane. Seeing those tangled, twitching tubes made the red veins crawl right back into my eyes.

"Since you refuse to use your words, let's all just die!" I ripped the tubes off the little girl one by one. I straightened them out perfectly and lined them up parallel to the wall. Then I yanked the power cords on the screaming monitors. The room finally fell dead silent.

I exhaled heavily. That was so much better.

What I didn't notice was the little girl slowly opening her eyes. She sat up. A sickeningly sweet smile curled on her lips. "Thank you, mister. I don't hurt anymore. Those tubes were so annoying. They made it so I couldn't move at all."

Huh? You meant you were hurting because of the tubes? I thought you were dying and just wanted me to put you out of your misery.

Was I about to clear the stage? A thrill sparked in my chest.

"But" The little girl hopped off the bed. "I couldn't move before. Now, you can't run away!"

The second the words left her mouth, her tiny body rapidly swelled up. She morphed into a nine-foot-tall musclebound freak. Thick veins pulsed beneath bulging muscles. Only her face stayed the same. A gigantic body topped with a tiny little head.

The breath escaping her lips smelled exactly like garbage left to rot for two weeks