Chapter Text
Stanley’s feet stomped up the metal stairs for the second time, his body practically screamed for him to stop but he didn’t listen, he never listened, he kept pushing. Then upon reaching the top of the unbarricaded ledge, he jumped. His body hit the cool stone floor with a thud and he definitely heard something snap, not that he could feel it.
“Stanley… Please, I’m begging you. Enough…” The Narrator pleaded in a tired, monotone voice.
But Stanley didn’t hear him, he refused to and again jumped from that ledge.
“This is the seventh time you’ve done this ending… I know your upset at me, you’ve made your point...”
Stanley jumped again.
He didn’t get back up…
The game soon reset and Stanley awoke in his office yet again. He immediately got up and exited his office with laser focus, swiftly placing one foot in front of the other in a calculated manner, his face completely stoic.
“Are you going to go back to the Zending for the eighth time?”
No reply.
“Stanley, I got upset and let it out on you. I apologize, is that what you wanted? An apology?” The older sounding man bartered with increasing frustration and a tinge of desperation. Stanley didn’t give the Narrator the time of day as he entered the right door. The man was getting fed up again and finally snapped.
The Narrator slammed his hands on the table and shot up from his desk, the sound of his chair rolling away loudly was audible even to Stanley’s ears. “I kill you once and this is how you react!? You’re being childish!” He exclaimed into his microphone, utterly exasperated.
Stanley looked up at the ceiling for a moment and glared at it before continuing his tantrum into the cargo room.
“You… UNGRATEFUL CHILD!” The Narrator snapped as he watched Stanley storm down the hall uncaringly. “FINE THEN! If you’re so insistent on dying I’ll speed up the process!”
Suddenly the loose pipes and cinder blocks nearby started floating upwards before all locking onto Stanley sharply.
“You’ll never have control Stanley. You’re just a puppet! A lifeless being that I made so someone could make decisions for me! I don’t need a brat who won’t obey me…” He snarled bitterly to the unruly man displayed on his monitor.
Stanley’s eyes widened in shock before took a few steps back and braced himself to be impaled and bludgeoned by the various miscellaneous props, but just when the Narrator was about to pull the kill switch, a door creaking open could be heard on the Narrator’s end. The Narrator grumbled angrily and whipped his head around to see what could possibly be interrupting him right now before silence followed for a few uncomfortable moments. Then suddenly the he spoke up again.
“Why are you here…?”
But no one replied to the Narrators inquiry, instead a few footsteps could be heard and then suddenly they quickened, seemingly catching the man off guard.
“WHAT-!?“ A loud thud was heard along with the sounds of struggling and things falling to the floor, before a final whack- and then silence…
Stanley just stood there in confusion as he looked up at the ceiling for answers. What just happened…? Did the Narrator get jumped or something? By who if so??? But Stanley would only gain more questions when suddenly,
The parable reset…
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Stanley had awoken to completely different scenery to usual. He was standing just outside a house, carrying a bag of papers and random office supplies. Looking around he was in a rather small neighborhood and in walking distance some shops were visible.
‘What the hell…?’ Stanley thought to himself. Truly, this had to be the strangest turn of events he’d experienced outside of first awaking in the parable. Was he free from that terrible maze? Did the Narrator die, setting him free somehow? And if so than was this his house? Was the person who knocked The Narrator out or killed him there to save him? There were far to many questions and little to no answers…
Stanley then turned his attention to the house who’s doorstep he stood on. If he opened it would it hold answers? ‘Only one way to find out…’ The brunette thought to himself before turning his attention to his person, he checked his pockets and lo and behold there were the keys. He inserted the key into the keyhole an twisted it lightly, after hearing the click of the door unlocking he slowly and carefully turned the knob.
Immediately from what he could see the house was extremely nice, much nicer than something an underpaid office worker could afford on his own. The furniture was neat and clean and the place had lots of windows for natural light to filter in. There were even potted plants, something Stanley never really cared for, on the windowsills.
He took a step inside, but some movement in the corner of his eye startled him and made him whip around. He was not alone… There was a man? His attire looked to be a black turtle neck, dark brown pants and shiny black dress shoes.
As the man shifted to face him, Stanley’s gaze immediately shot up to the guys face, he had slick, combed back grayish brown hair with silver streaks lining some parts along with rectangular tinted glasses and a piercing cat like yellow gaze. Eye bags tugged at his facial features which were rather defined, he seemed much more mature than Stanley by his face alone.
The strange and unfamiliar man seemed to have been cooking something, was this actually his house? Than why did Stanley have the key? The tall and slender man gave Stanley a generous smile before speaking.
“Welcome home Stanley, I was just preparing dinner for you.”
That voice… It was the Narrator. Stanley stood in pure shock at the realization, but his mind didn’t have time to process as apparently the Narrator went up to Stanley to greet him. On instinct Stanley took a step back, the Narrator gave him a worried look in response.
“Are you alright Stanley? You look quite tense.” He reached out for Stanley but the office worker swatted his hand away shocking the both of them. At this point Stanley was running on 90% autopilot as information and explanations we’re trying to be processed in his mind.
The Narrator stared at him for a moment before giving Stanley a tired but accepting smile. And it hurt…Oh it hurt. Why did he have to look at him that way. How was he expected to act like a normal human being when he’d been deprived of any contact for who knows how long…
“You must be tired after just getting home from work, I’ll call you when dinner is ready. Go rest for now.” The Narrator murmured softly before going back to cooking.
A part of Stanley, now looking at the Narrators unprotected back wondered if he should strangle him right then and there but another part of him felt guilty about it and after debating he decided against it. ‘Wasn’t he just threatening to kill me not even ten minutes ago? Why was he acting so kind now? And why was he here in the flesh?’ We’re some pressing questions he needed answers to.
Eventually Stanley tore his eyes away from the Narrator as he went to explore the house. From where he entered the house the open kitchen was on the left, some stairs to the right, and a huge living room in the middle. When he went upstairs he was greeted with a hallway, in the left door was a bedroom and in right a restroom. At the end of the hallway there seemed to be a hatch where you could climb into an attic though Stanley didn’t check what was inside it.
Stanley couldn’t help but notice there was only one bedroom. If him and the Narrator really were living together it was odd there was only one. Entering it Stanley saw some framed photographs on the nightstands of the rather large bed, picking one up he saw him and the narrator in white and black suits under a floral arch holding hands while smiling warmly at one another. And as Stanley observed it he noticed something foreign on his finger, something that definitely wasn’t there before.
A ring.
And suddenly a daunting possibility clicked in his mind. It was a wedding ring, and this was a wedding photo… Him and the Narrator were… Married?
Suddenly Stanley felt very sick. He slammed the photo faced down onto the nightstand so he didn’t have to look at it any longer and rushed into the bathroom. ‘Me and the Narrator? Married…? No, no! I can’t believe it! What is happening?!’ He thought desperately while splashing his face with cold water.
Stanley raised his head to look into the mirror, his reflection looked pitiful. Just what happened to the Parable? What happened to the Narrator? What happened to himself…? But while he was ruminating some movement caught his eye, he looked around the bathroom but it was only when he heard a knocking sound coming from in front of him that he turned. He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw his own reflection in the mirror move independently from him.
“Oh good I have your attention.” The reflection spoke.