Chapter Text
Ben.
...Who’s calling? He doesn’t know. Pieces of a peaceful dream slowly lift away.
Ben.
Yes? Who’s calling? Don’t they know it’s impolite to wake someone from a pleasant dream?
Ben!
Just leave. Let him have his peace. Leave him to his devices, to the silence and darkness surrounding him.
“Ben!”
‘Shut up. Shut up, leave me alone. I had such a wonderful dream and you ruined it! Can’t you see?’
“Ben!”
Shooting up with a barely held back gasp his eyes slowly focused on his surroundings. Leaning over his desk with both arms crossed is Darren, his best friend since kindergarten. His friend's face is drawn back in a scowl, a really fierce look if it wasn’t for the splotches of discolored skin on his face. Vitiligo, a rare skin condition. Uncommon for kids their age, especially seeing as no one else in his family ever showed a sign of having it.
“Finally, awake! Class has been dismissed for ten minutes, you’re going to miss the bus!”
Bus? What bus? All he knows about a bus is the one heading-
He straightens in his seat with a jolt, suddenly very much awake. “Home!”
He quickly scrambled to pack everything still lying out on his desk. Darren helped by grabbing his backpack and opening the right pockets for his books and stuff. The moment everything is packed he’s up from his chair and rushing out of the school. He just manages to spare a friendly wave to the boy waiting for his next class before he’s running down the hall to the stairs.
Ben takes them two at a time, jumping down once he’s at the ground floor and turning around so he can take the short route across the school grounds towards the area where the bus usually waits, for any students who need it.
He spots the characteristic yellow bus standing patiently on the other side, the last students who finished class boarding. He trusts his hand in the air so he’s visible past the other students roaming the grounds.
“Hey! Wait!”
A few of the teens already on board look his way to see who called before ignoring him, uninterested at his plight. The bus-driver looks up from where he’d been reading the newspaper and gives a motion to hurry up, a finger tapping his wrist watch.
The doors start to close behind him the moment he’s past them. Ben pauses for a moment to catch his breath before heading to an empty seat so he doesn’t fall when the bus jolts into a start.
The teen sits down with a relieved sigh, backpack positioned in his lap seeing as the seat next to him is taken.
“That was close. You do that often?”
“Huh?” He looks around before realizing that it was the girl sitting next to him who’d spoken up, her own backpack in her lap as well. “N-no, not really. Usually I’m here before the bus even arrives.” His eyes are drawn to the rather vivid color of her pack, a bright pink with contrasting red straps and faded stickers decorating the front.
Her grip tightens slightly over the old item. “That early? I can’t even imagine doing that every time.”
He shrugs, forcing himself to look her in the eyes -blue like ice yet warm- to assure her he isn’t about to steal her pack. “Not every time. My parents don’t have a set schedule for work so usually the one who has a free day tries to pick me up. Otherwise it’s the bus that brings me home.”
She hums at his answer, grip not changing a bit. The small flicker of guard he’d seen in her eyes disappears, though.
He looks away as the moment stretches, assuming the conversation is over. He looks across the bus, spotting a few familiar faces - students who take the bus more regularly - before he looks through the window to see where they are on the bus’s track. The familiar sight of the town main street assures him he’s got time.
...
“You live far?”
“Hmm?” His brain tunes back in from where it had started to slip into a daydream he quickly forgets. The girl is looking at him, pack moved from her lap to the floor next to her feet. “No, not far. I live in Cail Street.”
“Cail Street? Isn’t that after Clover Cross? I have the stop before that one.”
Ah, at least that means that the moment she has to step off his stop won’t be long. “Paldin Street, right?” She hums, nodding her head. His lips pull into a small grin. “What’s life like having the Minister of Agriculture living next door?”
She chokes on a laugh. Everyone knows what life would be like with Minister Cromwell as your neighbour. She clears her throat a little before answering. “Loud, with all those protesters at his front door. And don’t even start about the tractors!”
Silence stretches a little before both burst into laughter at her joke. Once neither is trying to hold back anymore splutters and chortles they lapse into small talk about actual life in their respective neighbourhood. She explains how they really are the Minister’s neighbors and the drawbacks that hold, and he regales her with a few stories from back when the Callisto’s lived next door, people who genuinely managed to keep everyone awake at night with their constant shouting and arguing.
(“Really? All night?” “All night, I’m not even joking. Got arrested thrice for the noise alone.”)
He gets cut off in the middle of explaining an elaborate trap he and Darren had set up for their new neighbors when the bus stops and the girl -Ally- jolts in her seat, hand reaching for her pack on the floor.
“This is my stop! It was nice meeting you, Ben.”
He offers her an easy smile as he presses himself into his seat, giving her more space to maneuver. “Thanks, see ya at school!”
“I will!” And then she’s outside, running in the direction of her home. The doors close and the bus starts with a small splutter, the next stop at Clover Cross and then his.
He shifts his pack from his lap into the now vacant seat and takes a moment to rummage around the front pocket, extracting a candy bar that won’t take long to finish. He subtly lowers his mask and nibbles away as he waits for the bus to arrive, two more stepping off, and then it’s headed in the direction of his home.
‘I wonder what class Ally has.’
LN2
The door leading into the foyer closes behind him with a small click, jacket discarded on the coat hanger and pack slung lazily over his shoulder. He steps inside the living room and takes a moment to look around. Sometimes his parents are home but they don’t have the time to pick him up, more busy with meetings and paperwork. Ever since the epidemic things have been weird for his parents, both their jobs still figuring out what qualifies as home-based work and what doesn’t.
The fact that they’re still trying to get all the paperwork for the divorce settled only makes things more frustrating for them. He tries not to get involved, though. He’s seen more than enough of his biological father to last him for a whole life-time.
Entire house scanned he finds that they’re both not here, meaning that work needed them to be there personally. He mentally shrugs at that and puts his pack and mask away before heading into the kitchen for an extra snack. He finds the milk and cereal and fixes himself a bowl before heading into his room.
A messy bed is what greets him and he groans around a spoonful, remembering that he should really start cleaning up his mess from yesterday. He’d been a bit more focused on spending almost the entire night playing games. Or, rather, game as in singular.
When he flicks on his TV he finds the screen is still set on the main menu of said game from last night. He sets the volume a little higher now that he doesn’t have to worry about waking his parents and finally gets the enjoy the music he’d sampled a few times on YouTube.
Settling down on his bed after moving a few shirts into a pile he’s faced with the main menu of Little Nightmares II, the serene yet eerie sight of the beach leading into the Pale City causing a small rush of goosebumps as he’s reminded of all the events that are set to take place inside.
He’s still not over the way the ending had played out when he finally beat the last ‘boss’. He’d gone for an achievement run, meaning he spent about ninety minutes simply exploring the different levels alone, looking for secrets and trinkets. He only got a few, but at least he managed to find all the Glitched Remains scattered about, meaning he accessed the secret ending.
‘Although, a few extra scenes at the end can’t really be called a secret ending.’ He groused as he put the now-empty bowl away so he can grab the controller of his Xbox One. He flicked through the different levels of the game, still quite impressed with the way they managed to separate everything into different ‘chapters’ whilst keeping the levels themselves connected.
His parents always caution him about getting attached to fictional characters, and for the most part he tries to avoid doing that, but with this one he couldn’t help but feel sympathetic for Six and Mono their situation. Forced to face so many horrible things in a world full with nothing but monsters, the least he’d hoped for was a happy ending.
Seeing Six drop Mono at the end only left him feeling bitter and cold. Watching as the game’s focus character slowly turned into one of the bosses, Thin Man, had the boy going for a loop as well. A part of him can see that there’s a form of logic in all the events shown in the game, but the rest is just frustrated at the fact nothing, not even the secret ending, gave any sort of hint or clue to a different end, a happy end
All it revealed is that the so-proclaimed sequel is actually a sneaky prequel to the original Little Nightmares, at least that’s what he gathered from the hidden scene.
It left him grumpy in the morning after he managed to snag four hours of sleep.
He sighed, going back to the final chapter. Maybe if he tried to do something else in that scene where Mono found Six? Although the game obviously shows that the next course of action is to hit the music box with the hammer, could he do something else instead?
A voice in his head whispered that he has homework to do, that he has to clean up his room and put his bowl in the sink. He hushed that voice by restarting the final chapter.
Mono is standing in the oh-so familiar hallway. There isn’t any ambient sound, just the distant music that reminds Ben of the frustration he got with the confusing doors of the Tower. Once they’re past the door and are inside the center he cringes and takes a moment to dial the sound down. He didn’t realize just how loud that music is, or the echoes when he has Mono jump down after climbing a twisted shelf.
Again, the door standing open closes before him. Grumbling slightly at that he instead has Mono go through the one that opened after the other closed. Would it be possible to outrun the door closing? He wouldn’t know, maybe if you cheated.
But he isn’t a cheater. So he continues by going up the stairs.
With some more understanding of how this works after playing the first time he manages to get through the door-labyrinth much quicker, solving the puzzles easily by following the music coming from Six’s music box.
(The same one she had in the Hunter’s Lodge. The same one he recalls from the original game. The one who’s music in the OST is literally called ‘Six’s Music Box’.)
Finally they arrive in the room where Six is. Again, seeing Mono react so startled at the way his companion has been deformed by the Signal Tower tugged at his heart, hands clenching around the controller. He wanted to go in there and smash that stupid tower to pieces.
Six hasn’t done anything wrong after all! All she’d been doing was surviving! What did she do to deserve this? What did she do to get affected like this, turned into the monsters she helped destroy?!
(She let him fall. That’s what.)
Hushing the traitorous voice in the back of his head he had Mono call out, urging Six to move into the center of the room. To see that she still recognizes him, still knows that the voice calling out is Mono... Why did she betray him like that?
Seeing the hammer lying in the suitcase that reminded him so much of the original game’s start, he knows why. There’s no other interaction around, no object to pick up or button to press. Using the hammer on the door doesn’t work, it bounces right off. And no way is he going to hit Six!
Is there... nothing else to do? He already has Mono set to hit the music box. Ben bites his lip, eyes going across every little detail.
There is nothing else to do.
He flinches when the hammer strikes the music box, temporarily transporting Mono somewhere else before the chase scene begins. Ben navigates through the hall with a bit more practices ease but in his head he’s cursing the way the game is set-up, the fact there’s nothing else to do.
The rest of the gameplay is simpler, at least when it comes to doing the boss fight. Every scream from Six, the times he does get killed and has to restart, the calls Mono uses to distract her so he can hit the box with the axe, all of it tugged and pulled at his heart as he remembered the interactions between the two characters.
Mono saved Six so many times, he put life and limb at stake just to help her survive. He should have some other way to rescue her from the Signal Tower, he should have! Why did the creators of the game do this? Why did the world of Little Nightmares have to turn out so cruel?
He’s almost finished, one more hit will end the battle stage. Six is distracted and he goes in for the finishing strike.
The sound of metal hitting metal reverberated through the room. He winced at how loud and high-pitched it sounds. He had the volume down, right?
(Crack.)
Two more hits is what it needs. Two more. Six is trying to protect it but a single call from Mono, echoing all around, is enough to have the monster-turned girl cowering. His lips pulled down at the very thought.
One.
(Crack!)
She’s further back, trying desperately to reach out and hold the now deformed and toneless music box. One more hit and it’s all over. He murmurs a small apology despite the fact it’s a game.
Two.
Crack.
She’s back to normal. The Tower is falling apart around them. They have to run-!
Crack.
-Wait, what’s that?
He pauses the game, glad that he still can. His eyes look around his room before falling on his door.
The door he thought he’d left open. When did he close it?
He gets up, game and controller forgotten for a moment. Walking to the door he notices that there are small scratch marks on the edges, although he wouldn’t know why or how they got there. Pressing a hand on the handle so he can open the door and let some air in-
...
-It won’t budge. He frowns and tries again.
‘...What?’
Nothing. It’s like the handle has turned into stone! Putting both hands down he tries again. And again.
“Hello? Mom, Dad? Anyone home?”
...No one. No one’s home. He didn’t hear the car driving up the driveway so it would make sense, but who locked the door then?
Crack!
His eyes flicker to the wall behind his bed, taking notice of a crack in the plaster, a crack that just grew. Swallowing down the sudden lump in his throat he moves over and presses a tentative finger against the crack as if it would magically disappear the moment he does.
But it doesn’t. He can feel the crack under his fingers. Frowning he brushes over it like it’s dust.
Still there.
‘What’s going on?’
He looks behind him at the TV, screen still paused. Yet... He’d paused it in the middle of Mono jumping, right? Yet now the main character’s already on the ground.
What’s going on here?
He slowly grabs the controller and puts himself on the bed so that he’s got the crack at his right and the TV-screen at his left. Keeping his focus on the crack he unpauses the game.
Craaack!
He jolts in his seat, not only from the thundering music playing from the game before he pauses it again, but also the way the crack grew bigger. Much bigger.
And, wait, is that...? He leans forwards and peers inside.
“Aah!”
He goes flying backwards when, from the flesh hidden behind his wall, a single eye opens and gazes at him with pure contempt. He lands on the ground with a thud and a groan, hand rubbing over his face.
He... he can’t possibly have seen that. This can’t be real.
Slowly getting up from the floor he faces the wall behind his bed, the wall he has posters of his favorite bands on, the wall where he’d written on when he was younger.
The wall currently bearing a gaping crack, exposing living flesh and an eyeball.
He gapes at the sight, bile rising up in his throat before he swallows to push it down. His stomach is turning at the gory sight. It’s pulsing, for goodness sake! There’s blood pumping through that stuff!
His foot lands on something that gives a groan like plastic and his eyes shoot down to see that he accidentally walked on his controller. He lifts his foot up and goes to reach out and grab it-
Creack!
-Only to flinch away when the floor splinters apart underneath, darkness swallowing the controller whole. He stumbles backwards and hits his desk hard, jostling the pencils from when he’d been drawing some fanart. His heart is beating a mile a minute and his head is spinning because this can’t be real!
He startles when the game unpauses and the music fills the air. His eyes are transfixed on the screen, watching as the characters continue like someone is still playing.
His vision flickers to the wall where the single eyeball is now focused on the TV.
‘No way, now way! This can’t be real! It can’t be!’
CRACK!
The wall cracks and doesn’t stop cracking. The floor continues to splinter apart revealing nothing but a vacant, empty abyss. Flesh starts pouring from the corners as the entirety of his room starts to crumble and fall into itself. The lamp on the ceiling is the first thing to fall down and disappear.
And he screams.
He screams because it can’t be real. He screams because he has no where to go. The door isn’t just locked it’s covered under blobs of pulsing meat. There’s no way out because suddenly the window is shrinking and beyond the glass is nothing but glowing pink light.
And the floor is falling apart. It’s falling apart and he’s losing ground fast.
He backs up and crawls on his desk, using the chair he usually sits in when reading or studying as leverage. The moment he’s seated on the wooden piece of furniture the chair starts rolling on its wheels and he quickly lets go. It falls into the black and there is no noise suggesting it ever hit the bottom.
He watches as his entire room disappears into darkness. Watches as his bed falls over the edge. Watches as the flesh pushes his closet over until it falls past him into pure nothingness.
Watches as the screen of the TV starts glitching, starts breaking. Static noise replaces the final music of the game. The screen is nothing but black and white noise. The screen is molding into the flesh around it.
The floor is gone, he can’t see it. What’s left must still be supporting the desk he’s on because it has yet to-
Creack.
-It’s tilting forwards. He can feel it tilting forwards! He crawls back as far as he can, back hitting something that isn’t solid and feels warm to touch. He’s frozen on the spot because he can feel pulsing behind him, can feel the ground underneath him disappearing.
He screams when gravity takes hold and drags him and the desk into pure darkness, the final sight he has being the massive eye looking down from the ceiling, shrinking the deeper he goes.
And then darkness swallows his life whole.