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richie thought he hated high school before he was dead. now, however, he thought it was worse to be doomed to haunt the halls forever. Even though this place was twisted, like a funhouse, and showed him lots of things he didn't understand, he was still able to watch as his friends summoned and bartered and begged over getting rid of max.
richie didn't know where he was. the last thing he remembered was max -- jagerman, somehow coming back from the dead and -- it was so bad he didn't want to think about it, truly. now he was lost, with darkness vaguely solidifying into the horrors of his hell: the winding, oppressing halls of hatchetfield high. as if they hadn't been scary enough in life, it looked like he was doomed to wander them for all eternity now in some vague funhouse caricature of everything that could have been. occasionally, when he tried to see where exactly he was except for high school which was cold, empty, and alone -- he saw his friends. the only people in his life who had ever seen him, running from the same demon that had murdered him like it was nothing, starting a ritual that filled him with dread and loathing.
richie
RICHIE
it was when the ritual began that richie discovered he wasn't alone. maybe he hadn't been in the beginning, either. he just knew that when steph, pete and grace started chanting, something changed in the air. he started hearing something -- someone -- call out his name. so richie did the only thing he could think of: run. his heart pounded so fast he thought it would jump out of his skin. how did his heart still pound when he was dead?! maybe because he had willed it into existence. one thing was certain -- he definitely hadn't willed the monster that was chasing him into existence. was he doomed to repeat the final moments of his life forever?
richie ran until he couldn't, collapsing against a mirror that somehow shone brighter than all the others. he looked inside it desperately, expecting to see his friends, expecting to find some shred of comfort or happiness looking back at him. but all that stared back was his own face, and he was smiling. richie frantically put up a hand to his chin, and then his cheeks. he wasn't smiling. that was only his reflection. how could it --
"hello, richie. i'm very disappointed in you, fwendy-wend. why haven't you wanted to play?"
richie backed away in horror. "this isn't real. you aren't me --"
"and why not?" the -- thing, or whatever it was that had richie's face -- stepped out of the mirror in its full green glory: wearing an emerald tinted crown, it's eyes were bug-eyed under richie's hair, its green suit fit tailored to richie's thin frame. the thing turned around, still smiling as its head turned 360 degrees with it, and richie couldn't contain himself as he saw the parasitic, fuzzy doll attached to his back, like a wart or a growth that held nothing but malicious intent in its eyes. richie let out a yelp and turned tail and ran, running down the distorted, silent halls away from this weird new nightmare. but that -- thing -- started to give chase, and somehow richie knew it wouldn't stop until it caught him, like some deranged game of tag. why when he discovered there was something else here besides him did it have to be some kind of monster with his own face?!
"come on, richie!" the monster growled, breaking into an unhinged laugh. "anything is possible here in the black and white! why don't you want to play? wouldn't it be so nice to take a break from all this running? we could play charades. max told me you're very good at those!"
richie stumbled and cowered against one of the lockers. "how -- how do you know max?!"
"why richie, don't you know? i'm king down here -- and you are too! it's my job to know everybody. that way we can all be fwendy-wends."
"why -- why do you look like me?!" richie gasped out as the thing came closer and closer to his face, peering down at him with a manic, leering grin. "who are you?!"
the thing started to pout, folding its legs in unnatural ways as it folded itself to sit down in front of richie. then, finally, it looked like a normal human being again -- just one that looked exactly like richie and was green and had a wicked fuzzy growth on its back. totally normal. this was totally normal -- right?!
"why, i'm you, of course. you in some future, in some past, from the dawn of time to its end and everywhere in between -- don't you recognize yourself?"
"i could --" richie shuddered in despair. "i could never be a thing like you. just leave me alone!"
"you were just so desperate for friends that you started to play pretend," the thing continued with its leer slowly turning into a horrified grimace, like it was reliving what it was saying. "after max decided we couldn't stay in the world anymore, we decided to stay here in the black and white and rule! we don't need any of them, richie -- our court is here now. it's much better to rule over all our fwendy-wends instead. that way they can stay with us forever. isn't that great?"
"no!" richie said, panicking. He stood up and the creature that had his face and body and the rest of him did the same, mirroring his movements as that dreaded smile returned to the green face that was and wasn't his own. "no, it's not! i'm dead!"
"and a king!" the thing said cheerfully. "you get to have fun every single day here in our very own court forever, richie! it's much better than the earthy-wearthy that we lived on before -- "
"stop!" richie yelled, his voice breaking. "just stop it! stop talking like that, stop talking!"
the creature fell silent. a merciful stillness descended upon the hallways as richie caught his breath. he hadn't realized being this fearful could run him ragged like this. he glanced down at his hands, half thinking they'd start to turn green like the monster who had his face. but no. maybe this thing was just lying to him. maybe it could look like anyone. he didn't know. how could richie know anything about this place?!
and yet.. some of the things the monster had said made sense, way back deep in some locked-away corner of his brain. the name of this place, wherever he was stranded, this black and white... it fit like a glove. almost like the moment he thought it, it came true. he glanced back up. the creature was regarding him almost thoughtfully, if monsters could be thoughtful. but if this thing was a monster then that meant richie was, too. if this thing was even to be believed.
"you keep saying you're me," richie said defiantly. "prove it. tell me something only the real me would know!"
the thing started to smile again. "like what? like how you had a crush on stephanie lauter since the first grade? or how you were the one who egged max jagerman's house last year at midnight when he and his parents were away skiing? or how you wet the bed every single night in --"
"okay!" richie interrupted. his voice bounced back at him in an echo that could almost be mistaken for this thing's weird accent. "okay, i get it! but -- how?! how does -- this happen?!" he gestured back between himself and the monster, hoping it knew what he meant. "the whole -- green thing."
"that's up to you to find out, isn't it?" the thing smiled again. "eternity is a long, long time, richie. but luckily we can play all the games we want! no one ever has to leave us again."
the creature smiled and stood up, extending his hand to richie -- to himself. hesitantly, he took it.
"what about max? what about my friends?"
"oh --" the creature blew a raspberry. "don't you remember yet? we already helped them! we dragged maxy-waxy down to drowsy town where he'll be tortured until the end of the time and then some. no one ever hurts us again. you make sure of that."
"what do you call yourself?" richie couldn't help but ask as the green thing started to lead him down the corridors of hatchetfield high as they disappeared behind them. soon, a white and grey expanse stretched out before them. somehow, richie thought he could do something with it -- he could make this place all his own. his very own canvas. his very own black and white.
"i mean, what do i call myself? in the future. and the past. and... everywhere. if i'm not richie anymore."
"only the bestest-westest of names!" the thing leered. richie thought he saw something of himself in that smile and slowly, he smiled back. "wiggog y'wrath. but you can call me wiggly. after all, we're fwendy-wends!"
"yeah, sure. fwendy-wends."
as richie followed the monster, he thought he could feel something soft and fuzzy start to protrude from his back -- and his smile grew larger and larger. all of this was his now. just as befit a king. just as befit a lord in black.