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Chaos ensued. Explosions rang in Andrew's ears as he ran about the movie set in search of safe haven. Running through the corridors met him with a dead end. Maybe he could hide here, for now.
Pushing his way into the corner, he began to catch his breath. What was going on? He began to think, or attempt to. It was beyond his scope of reason.
Just then, through the barrage of explosions and screaming he heard slow, steady footsteps walking down the corridor to his hiding place. His breath became cold, and he could feel his heartbeat rhythmically shout in his ears. He closed his eyes. Then opened. Then closed again. Finally, he settled to take a glance.
As he opened his eyes, he was met with the shoes of the director standing in front of him. Hidden under a steel table, he kept quiet. But he knew...they both knew...thats where Andrew took his solace.
The director took a step back. "Come on now," he said. "You're being given a chance to face the abyss before you."
Andrew shuddered. And without thought he slowly began crawling out from under his hiding place. On his hands and knees, he looked up at Xie Bi'an...or rather, the disguised Nyarlothotep. Bi'an looked down at Andrew and smiled.
"Out you wander from your steel sanctuary," and he held out a hand. Andrew nervously reached out, taking it. "How well did it protect you, really?" Bi'an asked, quickly spinning Andrew around and holding him against himself. Andrew faced his once-haven and watched as a tentacle sprouted from the wall behind it, crushing it in a moment. His heart sank.
"Foolish people find solace in steel," Xie Bi'an continued, placing one hand under Andrew's chin. "Safety in their own creation. Is that what you were hoping? Protection under that table there?"
Andrew shook his head.
"No?" Xie Bi'an laughed slightly through his breath. "Then...what were you thinking?"
"I was hoping..." Andrew stuttered, his breath still cold. "That it was all a dream..."
With that, Xie Bi'an smiled, holding Andrew close as he began pushing down the hall. Andrew watched as wires fell from the ceiling, as scrap metal and tentacles burst from the walls. It all certainly felt like a dream. And in this moment it all felt as if it moved in slow motion.
"Even dreams are not safe from the Call of the Abyss," Xie Bi'an spoke, his voice subtly shifting. They continued down the hall, which at this point felt endless.
"So am I dreaming?" Andrew asked, looking up at the director.
"Quite the contrary." He smiled, as his skin shifted into a deep obsidian. Andrew jumped forward, looking back at Xie Bi'an as he took on his transformation. He slowly began stepping back as he saw dark tentacles sprout from the directors body and watched in amazement as what seemed to be the galaxy itself overcome him.
Suddenly a tentacle shot out grabbing Andrew by the leg, tripping him. He hit the ground harshly, nearly gouging his eye out on a piece of scrap metal. Instead it grazed his skin. The sting hit and Andrew cried in pain, holding his face. The transformed director began walking towards him, lifting Andrew up with the tentacle.
Andrew hung upside down attempting to kick off the tentacle with his free leg. Then a different tentacle shot out from the wall, grasping his other ankle. He lay suspended, struggling as blood dripped down his cheek.
"Shall we continue?" The dark voice of Nyarlothotep echoed. Andrew continued struggling. The tentacles slowly began to back away from eachother, putting a strain on Andrew's legs.
"N-no!" Andrew cried, feeling his legs twist under the pressure. "Please, n-no!!!" The Crawling Chaos watched Andrew's pleading expressions, before suddenly tugging harshly on his leg, twisting it off.
Blood sprayed like a fountain, staining the steel walls a bright crimson. Andrew screamed as blood poured down his body and onto his face. "Please help me, please stop!" He cried, the remaining tentacle dropping him next to his amputated leg. He stared at his leg and his jaw dropped, before more screaming escaped him. The sheer amount of blood was incomprehensible to him. He looked at Nyarlothotep, who seemingly looked down at him without expression.
"Tell me I'm dreaming," he begged, holding his open wound in feeble attempts to stop the bleeding. "Please tell me I'm dreaming."
Nyarlothotep tilted his head, taking another step forward, the puddles of blood below splashing against his shoes.
"I don't want to die..." Andrew begged softly. Fan Wujiu nodded.
"What will you sacrifice to live?" He bent down, his knees dropping in the bloody puddles below. He reached his hand out and placed it on Andrew's cheek. He then wiped his finger across the scratch, healing it.
"Will you sacrifice your being in order to live?"
Andrew stared, and without understanding exactly what he was saying, began to nod. Then began to speak.
"Yes! Yes! Yes, anything, anything!" A slight smile from the abyss could be seen creeping across the blank face of man before him.
"Then life you will get." He said. Suddenly tentacles shot out from the walls around them, pinning Andrew down. His eyes widened as he looked up at Wujiu. He held the presence of a god. "Yes." He said softly to Andrew.
"Y-yes!" Andrew replied, as a tentacle writhed, pulling off one of his arms. He gritted his teeth, holding back a scream. His eyes stayed fixed on the god before him. This was judgement. "Yes!" He shouted, and the tentacles ripped off his other leg, slower this time. Blood shot up Andrew's throat, and through the choking he shouted another. "YES!" And his other arm was pulled. Slowly, it tore from his body. "Y-HSHSA-E-HDHS-S!" Andrew shouted incomprehensibly, as he continued looking at the abyss before him.
Fan began walking forward, standing above Andrew. He then reached down, touching his face. The softness of this touched Andrew's heart.
"You will be an avatar," Fan Wujiu said.
"Yes." Andrew thought softly. Breath escaped him. His body felt limp.
Then he rised again. Through the abyss his spirit ran looking for its way out. Then the doors were opened by the Crawling Chaos and life was given once again. He stood before his god and looked up at him. Fantastic adoration clouded his fear as the image of a shooting star traversed across his irises.