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Badboyhalo walked in through the front door, oddly quiet as he greeted Dream, George and Skeppy, who were gambling with a game of cards. It seemed that Skeppy was winning for once, although he suspected he was cheating.
"Hey Bad! Wanna join us next round?" Smelly invited while George nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, let's team up on Dream."
Bad smiled weakly at the indignant sputters Dream gave and shook his head. Bad's hoodie was up, shadowing his face and making his eyes illuminate in a brilliant silver colour. "No thanks. I'm a little tired right now."
He walked up the stairs to his room and plopped down on the bed. Sighing, Bad kicked his shoes off and lowered his hood. His face was streaked with tears, and his silver eyes were still shiny with fresh tears.
The bit of land he had claimed as his, his "server" if you will, had been griefed. Again. While Bad tried to fix the damage, the fans on his land had gathered and jeered at him, mocked him, calling him bald and 14. This normally wouldn't be a problem, no, normally he would try to laugh it off, maybe tell them to stop.
Bad slouched, pondering.
But this had gone on for too long, the spamming of emojis in his streams, the names and the bullying. What did he do to deserve this? Bad didn't know what to do anymore. 'Stop' didn't do anything. No matter how hard he tried to be nice, censoring his swears for the youngest of his audience, laughing, joking, taking the insults as if they were normal, even he had a breaking point.
Was he just that worthless? A doormat?
He lay down and had a long, hard cry.
***
When he woke up, Bad didn't feel. It was like a bottomless hole in his stomach had sucked all his emotions dry and left him with an empty husk.
His thought process was mechanical, linear.
'thirsty.'
'go downstairs, get water.'
So he did. Skeppy was at the table when he got down, waving hi at him. Bad looked in Skeppy's direction blankly, then got his water and sat down.
"Where are Dream and George?" He asked flatly. A flash in the back of his mind told him they'd gone home, probably. To try and prevent Sapnap from accidentally torching down the house. The ghost of a warm feeling brushed the back of his mind, quickly swallowed by the hole he felt in his stomach.
Skeppy, looking a little confused, said "they went home. I won, by the way." The confused look was replaced with triumph, and Bad died a little. He felt... Sad. That his own best friend didn't care about his suffering. Even though he wasn't acting all happy, like he usually did.
Then the void in his stomach pulsed, and he was back to blankness.
"How are you? Feeling better?" Skeppy asked tentatively. Bad's heart throbbed a little, and he felt something: A little hope. Maybe he was wrong? Skeppy would listen. After all, he was supposed to be his best friend.
"My server got griefed again," Bad started. Skeppy cut in with a laugh. "Hah! That was me!" He cried with laughter.
He visibly deflated as Skeppy went on and on about his great 'plan', that he thought he wouldn't mind, it was just a joke, for the views, when he heard something.
"I could see your bald head trying to fix the server from here!"
Everything was in slow motion. The void in his stomach moved to his heart, consuming every last bit of hope he had. The anger bubbling in his brain that he had been suppressing for years spilled out.
"I'M NOT FUCKING BALD!" He shrieked at Skeppy, who stumbled back in shock. Bad didn't even care anymore, even though a tiny bit of him yelled 'Language!' in the back of his mind.
Bad's fist flew at Skeppy before he could register what was happening and Skeppy was thrown back by the force of the punch.
He left the room with Skeppy gawking at him, open-mouthed and stunned. His left hand cradled the injury in his cheek.
Bad whisked away, getting his stuff. Two buckets, one full of water, the other lava. A flint and steel. A sword, an axe, full gear, all diamond. He found a couple of potions, two splash potions for harming, drinkables for regen and fire resistance in a chest in the corner of his closet.
He shoved them in his inventory and left out the front door. Circling around the back, Bad crouched-
And struck his flint and steel. Bad felt like he was watching himself do it from a screen, like he wasn't controlling his actions. But he wanted this. He cheered maliciously at the screen with himself lighting the fire.
The result was instantaneous. the spark kindled into a roaring fire, catching on everything in a beautiful swirl of red, orange and yellow. The light and warmth from the fire bathed his face, and he laughed.
Oh, he laughed so much, he could hear the screams coming from inside as rubble collapsed on Skeppy. He deserved this. All the times he had griefed him, called him names, oh what a sweet revenge! And he'd had the forethought to take all the water buckets too, so he couldn't put it out.
It struck him then that there were others as well. Others who needed to pay.
Bidding the burning house goodbye, he travelled to the next house in need of his treatment. George, Sapnap and Dream's house.
Bad decided he'd be a little more straightforward this time. Kicking down the door, he held his axe and called out, "Oh Dreeeeaaaaam!" In a manner that would send shivers up anyone's spine. Not in the playful way that George would call for the masked man during mock (and real) manhunts.
Dream came out of the living room, a stick in hand. He must have been crafting something. Oh well, that could wait.
"Bad? What-" Before he could finish, Bad sliced his head off. The blood sprayed into the air, coating everything in a sticky red. He bent down and plucked the mask from his decapitated face, putting it in a pocket. "That'll teach you, arrogant shithead. 'underrated manhunter' indeed." He giggled.
A flash of blue caught his eye, and he looked towards the hallway just as George whisked around. "Oh, I see you, George!" He sang, axe dragging along the ground. Bad could almost smell the terror that George felt.
He almost felt like Dream himself, or at least the 'psychotic' (according to the viewers) persona he put on in videos.
Switching to a sword, he rounded the corner just as George jumped at him with an old iron sword. The thing was probably at its limit, rusted and creaky and quite frankly on its last few swings. Ah. So that was what Dream had been repairing.
Bad indulged in a couple of parries before deciding that it wasn't fun anymore. Batting the old sword away with ease, he impaled George with his own diamond one.
George coughed blood out of his mouth, and Bad relished the sticky sweet smell of the liquid as he gave the sword a twist. When the two respawned they'd see how they'd looked when they had died. Yes, you could see your own corpse. It was a little morbid, but that was just how their world worked.
Bad pulled the sword out, giving George a kick. He stumbled, then collapsed as his eyes drained of life. Making sure George was fully dead, Bad reached down and plucked his clout goggles from his face.
"Hey guys, I'm home-" Bad twirled around as he came face-to-face with Sapnap. A grin split his face. "Ah, you're here! I just got finished with the others, care to join them?"
Sapnap scrambled for the chest near the closet, but Bad flew at him, knocking him back with the blunt edge of his sword. "Ah, ah, ah!" Bad put his foot on the pinned Sapnap, relishing the struggle.
"Say hi to Dream and George for me?" He asked sweetly, politely and quietly, like how BadBoyHalo's pathetic online persona would. Switching to an axe he cleaved Sapnap in two, right in the stomach. He went rigid, then fell back, dead. He knew the spawn was miles away, so Bad took the time to set their house on fire as well after taking Sapnap's bandanna.
Purely cosmetic. They were just... Souvenirs.
Speaking of BadBoyHalo, he decided that 'Bad' was too ironic of a nickname. He wasn't bad, he was just exacting revenge on those who deserved it. And enjoying it.
What was at the other end of his name? Halo. Yes. He was a halo, shining beautifully and brightly. The crown of an angel.
Leaving the house, 'Halo' decided to get some food. This was a celebration. He had finally done it. It called for cake.
Walking down, Halo took a little shortcut through his server. He came across the group of people who had taunted him while he had tried to fix his server yesterday.
"Well if it isn't BaldBoyHa-" Without a word, Halo jumped and swung his axe, slicing the boy straight down the middle. The others stepped back, shocked that the innocent, vulnerable and ever-patient Bad would do that to his fans.
Halo examined the blood on his fingers, then licked it off. It was sweet and bitter at the same time, holding a slight metallic aftertaste. Taking an extra bottle, he dipped it in the nameless person's blood. Once it was full, he corked it and pocketed the red liquid. Maybe he'd find a use for it.
He noticed something that stood out on the corpse, a flash of blue and yellow fabric. Halo leaned down and took the bandanna, putting it in his inventory along with the other items.
It wasn't really a thing he thought about, really. Just an impulse. Halo continued on his way, ignoring the mortified stares of the bystanders.
Oh, this was fun.