I can only count on myself...

Greetings. My name is H.I. Player. I found myself shipwrecked upon this island earlier today. The generous people of this household, the Ushiromiyas, cleaned me up... it was a considerable effort they'd gone to. Not only the sea, but also, a fierce storm had challenged me. I was soaked to the marrow. I'm very grateful to this rich-seeming family, who took time away from their business conference to tend to me. Or, more specifically, the servants and spouses not busy with that important conference had tended to me.

Ah, the strangest thing... another shipwrecked person, a small girl, Furudo Erika, has been allowed into the mansion in the same fashion. They found her dripping wet in a swimsuit and redressed her in a fancy white gown. Ever since, she's been the picture of poise, treating this family and its servants as though she was the master. How odd... She's very cute, but something about her makes me uneasy all the same.

The conference is still underway... I've seated myself in the parlor, where there is a television and young Ushiromiya Maria. The storm was too intense for the kids to go to the guest house, so everyone's holed up here. I have to admit, I'm a bit on edge. This seems like the perfect setting for a ****.

"Ki hi hi... A ****?"

The little girl is laughing now with a creepy expression... Shit, I must have been talking out loud while I wrote. Don't worry about that, Maria. I'm just writing a scary story right now.

"The **** you're talking about isn't scary at all, Player... The witch is taking us to the Golden Land."

Golden Land, huh?

I don't want to be around her right now... It's too eerie. Sorry, Maria, but I'm not one of those responsible adults who refuses to leave you alone. I decided to go to the kitchen to get some coffee... Hopefully it will keep me awake while I write my story.

As I walked the halls of the manor, I was struck by the artistic beauty of it. Who knew how much Kinzo had put into this place? There was even an engraved epitaph in the hallways, alongside a tremendous portrait. The woman in that portrait, with golden hair and a mysterious smile, made me a little aroused. Perhaps that's why I ended up walking there again, even though the kitchen was in another direction.

It seemed I wasn't the only one who'd had the idea to come admire it. I heard footsteps at the top of the staircase. When I turned, however, no one was there.

Things just kept getting more disturbing tonight... I wondered if I should return to Maria after all. With that thought on my mind, I turned my head... A person wearing a servant's uniform and a mask like a goat's head was standing there. He- or she, I couldn't tell from the fit of the uniform- was armed with a long-handled shovel from the garden. Ha ha... What is this... Some sort of costume party? Genji, did you have this kind of interesting hobby? I couldn't tell earlier when I met you, but-

The shovel swung, hitting me across the head. I felt my body tumble, hitting every stair as I fell from the portrait onto the hall of the main floor. I groaned and clutched my head, unable to move. I heard the taps of the figure's feet against the floor as they approached, then raised the shovel. It came down, aiming to cleanly sever my head-

"No no... I don't like this ending, it's too quick. Oh... Player! I just thought of a great twist to this one! Do it like this, okay? Change this part! This is going to be a fantastic short-form mystery!!"

The shovel didn't hit my neck; it hit my head again. I felt something extremely unhealthy happen, then realized that I was still conscious... But paralyzed. The attacker must have thought I was dead, because he or she left, dragging that bloody shovel along with them. They were headed towards the border room... I could tell, because my head was turned in that direction, unable to move.

Ah... Doctor Nanjo... If you could find me, maybe you could diagnose what's wrong with me. Is there a condition like this somewhere in your books?

A condition that makes me a hopeless observer to this story, unable to do anything but watch the actors move around a set?

This was how I'd spend the rest of the night... Lying on my back, half-dead, bleeding on the floor, providing someone with a viewpoint that would give them a few more gracious clues to a **** mystery story that I would never be a party to the solution of.

In the meta-world, I'd fallen onto the floor as well. I was as lifeless as that corpse in the game. I heard Erika suggesting more tweaks, but I couldn't make them. The pen had fallen from my hand. I can't write this useless story any more... I just can't.

"Child of Man... It seems you've become someone else's reader. This isn't the story I asked you to read, either."

You damn witch... don't you realize it's your fault?! Don't you realize that you're the reason this is happening to me?! I never asked for a hell where I'm **** to relive the Rokkenjima murders forever in new and fascinating ways! I wanted to express love! If I go through these endings again and again, with that love reciprocated, what do you think's going to happen?! That love has died! I don't want to read this damn story ever again!

"You're one of those writers who really writes themselves into a corner, aren't you? Perhaps I should have expected this when I saw you had filled a book full of stories of your own ****. Still... The problem is that love you've lost. Rekindle it and I believe you'll find another option, on the very page you just left."

Ah... I'm being fed to Erika again. This will never end.

I'll be slurped into that hungry detective's waiting lips over and over until she's satisfied. If she's ever satisfied...