They were mutilated to near-unidentifiable states. Their limbs were removed and placed next to their bodies, utterly and brutally murdered in cold blood my knees trembled at this unspeakable sight as I gittered when I noticed that their heads were placed on their chests facing me.

I standed pondering if I was dead already and was suffering my punishment in hell and this was my own demon torturing me mercilessly and I started begging for forgiveness of sins cause I knew there was no escaping this and it was going to take a miracle for people to here this testimony that is if I even ever get out of this hell hole of a haunted house cause even myself was losing hope cause I could not see a way out of this and I even tried commiting suicide but I could not find anything I could use to harm myself and I was frustrated cause I wish it could all be over in a moment and was willing to do anything to get it as I looked back at the body as a cold feeling passed down my spine.

This was the most scary thing I have ever seen all my life, my feets trembled as I did not know what to do or where to run to, I am trapped in this shit hole of a place doing everything I can that is humanly possible to survive but this house always keeps giving me reason to want to die fast and now.

 The most unsettling part was their expressions. They were smiling, as though they were happy to see me what kind of psycho build this place,I thought to myself, he should be arrested for human rights violation cause this was a trap which was brought right from the pit of hell.

 I vomited and sobbed there in the family room. I didn’t know what had happened; they didn’t even live with me at the time. I was a mess I was not sure of myself, was I hallucinating or was it real ,I really could not tell the difference and I just wished it would be over soon,it had not been more then 30 minutes I entered this house but the pain and trauma I have gone through is making me feel like I've been here for ages. Inside my mind I prayed to God to show my a way out of this place. Then I saw it: a door that was never there before. A door with a large eight scrawled on it in blood. I ran as fast as I could to the door pulling with all my might and strength as I felt the warmth of fresh air gushimg in from the other part of the door I felt relief as I slowly walked outside with all smiles around my face thinking I have finally escaped this pit of hell. I Saw a familiar painting on the wall and it was the same one I saw in room one and then it hit me.

I was still in the house. I was standing in my family room but I was in room seven. The faces of my parents smiled wider as I realized this. They weren’t my parents; they could not be, but they looked exactly like them. Then I sigh a big one that contained relief as for the first time since I step my feet in this house I actually felt a slight chance that I might make it out alive, a little ounce of believe spread through my body as I knew I could not back down now because it was a go big or go home moment but in this case it was a go big to go home kind of situation and I was going to take it head on and take my best shot cause it was time to take the bull by the horn

The door marked eight was across the room, behind the mutilated bodies in front of me. I knew I had to move on, but at that moment I gave up. The smiling faces tore into my mind; they grounded me where I stood. I vomited again and nearly collapsed. Then I picked myself one again with courage valor and strength the hum returned. It was louder than ever and it filled the house and shook the walls. The hum compelled me to walk as I could Sense the end was near but I could not tell if it was the end of the house of the end of me in the house but never the less I was not afraid of dying cause dying would be far better than the emotional and psychological torment I've been receiving since I got into this haunted house as I was prepared for whatever was coming forth with valor strength and Hope and moved forward as though I own the place cause you know that saying a man who fights with nothing to lose is dangerous and since I stepped my foot in this haunted house I have been fighting for my life and I guess that made me weak and it was no more the time to be weak and pathetic as I did not care if I was going to die or not

I began to walk slowly, making my way closer to the door and the bodies. I could barely stand, let alone walk, and the closer I got to my parents the closer I came to suicide. I was not thinking if I am going to die I was thinking of how I'm going to die here let it better be quick because I'm tired of this haunted house shitty mind games I could swear it's already giving me migraines if I was going to die it should happen quickly.

 The walls suddenly began to now shake as I observed there were no cracks in the walls but it started shaking so hard it seemed as though they were going to crumble, and I looked at the dead bodies and was like really a thousand ways to die and this creepy haunted house chooses stoning us to death by the walls of house how biblical from a very unholy vendor, but still the faces smiled at me. As I inched closer, their eyes followed me. I was now between the two bodies, a few feet away from the door. The dismembered hands clawed their way across the carpet towards me, all while the faces continued to stare. new terror washed over me and I walked faster. I didn’t want to hear them speak. I didn’t want the voices to match those of my parents. They began to open their mouths and the hands were inches from my feet. In a dash of desperation, I lunged toward the door, threw it open, and slammed it behind me. Painting heavily and after a moment I tried to control myself taking deep breaths and talking to myself trying so hard to keep my sanity and concentration on because without that I would not have made it this far

Room eight.

I was done. After what I had just experienced, I knew there wasn’t anything else this house could throw at me that I couldn’t live through. there was nothing short of the fires of hell that I wasn’t ready for and I have been saying that for a couple of minutes now and it has been keeping my hopes of living this place alive

Unfortunately, I underestimated the abilities of No End House because this haunted house terrors knew no bounds as in room 8, things just got more disturbing, more terrifying and more unspeakable as always the next level was always harder than the last And then I started regretting why I did not listen to my friend and stayed away from this challenge as I thought i was doing myself and everyone one in London a favor but I was only going to get myself killed no it was even worst than being killed I was going to get my self mentally deranged and psychologically damaged because the scenes I have witnessed here are not for the weak hearted. Some people would have fainted on seing what I did on first contact.

I still have trouble believing what I saw in room eight. Again, the room was a carbon copy of rooms four and six, but sitting in the usually empty chair was a man. To my horror, I gradually realized that the man sitting in the chair was me. Not someone who looked like me; it was me, David Williams. I walked closer. I had to get a better look even though I was sure of it. He looked up at me and I noticed tears in his eyes.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t do it. Please don’t hurt me.”

“What?” I asked. “Who are you? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yes you are…” He was sobbing now. “You’re going to hurt me and I don’t want you to.” He sat in the chair with his legs up and began rocking back and forth. It was actually pretty pathetic looking, especially since he was me, identical in every way.

“Listen, who are you?” I was now only a few feet from my doppelganger. It was the weirdest experience yet, standing there talking to myself. I was not scared, but I knew would be soon. “Why are you-”

“You’re going to hurt me you’re going to hurt me if you want to leave you’re going to hurt me.”

“Why are you saying this? Just calm down, alright? Let’s try and figure this-” And then I saw it. The David sitting down was wearing the same clothes as me, except for a small red patch on his shirt embroidered with the number nine.

“You’re going to hurt me you’re going to hurt me don’t please you’re going to hurt me…”

My eyes didn’t leave that small number on his chest. I knew exactly what it was. The first few doors were plain and simple, but after a while they got a little more ambiguous. Seven was scratched into the wall, but by my own hands. Eight was marked in blood above the bodies of my parents. But nine – this number was on a person, a living person. Worse still, it was on a person that looked exactly like me.

“David?” I had to ask.

“Yes… you’re going to hurt me you’re going to hurt me…” He continued to sob and rock. He answered to David. he was me, right down to the voice. But that nine. I paced around for a few minutes while he sobbed in his chair. The room had no door and, similarly to room six, the door I came through was gone. For some reason, I assumed that scratching would get me nowhere this time. I studied the walls and floor around the chair, sticking my head underneath and seeing if anything was below. Unfortunately, there was. Below the chair was a knife. Attached was a tag that read, “To David, from the management of No End House.”

The feeling in my stomach as I read that tag was something sinister. I wanted to throw up and the last thing I wanted to do was remove that knife from under that chair. The other David was still sobbing .