Chapter Text
He kept dying. Stanley purposefully kept dying as though he wanted to spite me. I call out to him yet he never responds. He’s gotten to the point he’s stopped signing, he just keeps dying. That damn ledge, the damn crushing machine. And I can’t stop him, he doesn’t listen, I just have to watch, over and over as he kills himself.
He saw that his whole office career was a lie, a way to control him and now he won’t stop killing himself. I need to figure out a way to get down to him, to hug him, to comfort him, to prove I am real. But I can’t. He needs to figure out how to get to me, not vice versa.
I watch as he jumps down through the hole, the bottomless hole, I hear his bones snap and crack, blood splatters. Then I reset the game again. He looks mad at me, I hate when he looks at me like that. I hate when he thinks I’m the villain. His soul is as broken as his body when he jumps, his eyes are as dead as he is every time I reset. I need to lead him to my office, I need him here with me.
I need to prove I’m not the bad guy that I love- no..I’m not meant to feel love. That is not my duty. I’m meant to take care of him, that’s all. Clearly I’m failing. I need to get that stupid yellow line to work, but the chances of Stanley following it are...low. I sigh and go back to watching Stanley's behavior, he looks tired of this. I don't blame him.
"Stanley walks through the door on the left.." I comment, knowing he won't. He'll go to the right, just to spite me. I don't blame him. Stanley, of course, goes through the right door. Nothing good is behind the right door, nothing good is behind any door. He won't listen though. He won't care about his death or his outcome. Hell, he didn't even care when I faked him having a wife. he doesn't care.
Stanley goes back to the large crushing machine and I almost cry. That was the worst death. The noise of the machine mixed with the crushing of bones and Stanley's pained screams.
"Stanley please don't. Not again. I can't listen to this again. Please!" I cry out. And for once..Stanley pauses. He just stops, doesn't go forward or back. I take a shaky breath in, wiping the tears that threatened to fall. He had stopped, he wasn't dead again.
"Why do you care?" Stanley signs up at me. I pause. Why did I care? I didn't at first. I only started caring when he kept killing himself, when he kept dying and screaming.
"Stanley, walk through the door on your left. Please." I respond. He doesn't move. The door on his left, the way to my office. I pray to a fictional God that he listens, that he cares just like I do. Maybe that's what makes me pitiful. That I still have hope for a hopeless man. Maybe helping him is what is really killing him. Maybe I am the villain. I never wanted to be, I hoped I wasn't. Maybe I became the one thing I swore to hate.
"What is through the door?" Stanley signs again.
He needs the truth, he needs to know I am real. He needs to know I'm truly helping him. At least, I'm trying to.
"It's me Stanley. I'm through that door." I respond in a soft voice. Stanley only nods in responds and hesitantly opens the door.
I wait for his arrival.