Chapter Text
You enter the house with your associates. Their speech washes over you as you once again repeat this cycle again. And you walk this blinding first hallway down again. Your fist clenches and unclenches as you spot the weak shadow in the distance.
As you get close enough, Mirabelle pipes up, her voice a frantic and unfocused. This stupid sadness. It stands there everytime and slows you down. You just want this sadness to disappear!!! Why are they keep getting in your way?!? They should all just die! Mirabelle's voice is drowning out in your thoughts. You simply just want this sadness and all the other to -disappear-.
Your feet push you forward and you lurch at the sadness. A swift strike of your dagger lets the sadness fall in on itself - but much to your dismay it reforms back.Why does it survive? What does it think to keep getting in your way!? The dagger in your hand is being plunged mercilessly into the sadness until it finally falls to dust.
You are breathing heavy, the frustration and anger still hot in your arms, legs and head, but you turn with a smile to your friends.
"I got it!"
Your friends don't answer. It was terribly quiet. As you open your eye you can see how Odile stands before the others, one hand clutching the heavy book, the other outstretched as if to shield someone. Her face was stoic, and hard. You have seen her face like that before, that was her serious game face when they battled difficult sadnesses. But she is looking into your eye.
And so do the other three - their faces were stricken with... with fear. They were scared of YOU.
Odile is shielding them from you, ready to protect the younger ones and strike you down. Bonnie was shaking, looking terrified from below Odiles book. Mirabelle had clasped her hands over her mouth, catching her scream.
And Isabeau.... his eyes... he looked ... betrayed.
You feel a tug in your stomach pit. It gets stronger – but the time doesn’t loop back. Like a knot the pain stayed in your belly and your friends kept staring at you.
Your face contorts into a convincing smile and you urge on: "Come on, it's time to go!" But they don’t move. You heart starts beating so fast in your chest. The pain gets worse. So much worse. They shift and Beau is pulling Bonnie out of your sight. Your heartbeat pounds on your eardrums. You feel lightheaded.
"What's wrong??" Your voice breaks as you ask. Crabbing voice, why are you failing now?? You need to lighten up the tension, quickly! You start losing control over the direction of this play--
"Aren't you excited to end it? Hahaha" You simply can't keep up your facade. They see you for the disgusting monster that you are. It crumbled, the laugh was uncomfortably to long and your head was swimming in cotton. Why why why why why why - why are they not doing anything?? Why are you still here and your stomache was tugging and hurting--
"Siffrin", Odile answered and you jump. Her tone is cold and calculated. "Lay down your weapon", she kept going with a deep scowl on her face. All the words you would have liked to say were jumbled up.
"Why," you ask, your eye unfocused, a small twitching smile on your face.
"What's wrong...?"
You know why, of course, but anger and fear were battling inside you. You so badly wanted to slice up every sadness - but this scared them. They are terrified. And this led to you being terrified of yourself. But the sadnesses are in your way. And they need to be removed—
"What has gotten into you, Sif??" Mirabelle was shouting at you. Her fear was gone and replaced by something much worse. Disdain. She looked really mad at you. You suddenly feel a sharp craft strike you and with bewildered eyes you see Odile holding her hand outstretched towards you - she just casted a paper craft against you—
Your ears were ringing. You couldn’t hear anything except this obnoxious, shrill sound. It was like listening to fear. You take a step back. And another. And another.
You run. Running away from them, tears streaming down your face. You can hear them shout after you, but you couldn’t stop - you simply couldn’t stop running.
You need to find a tear.
The first door was opened quickly and you bolt right past everything. Even the trap in the Death Corridor couldn’t keep up with your feet. You just needed to get to that tear... and ... Loop.. BACK!!!
There was no tear. There were no tears. Why are there no tears?! You barely could breath, your lungs burning from a thick scent of burning, disgusting sugar. So you scream - screaming at the top of your lungs. This was too much this was too much!! AND IT'S THOSE SADNESSES FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Deprived from the illusion of freedom, you crave violence. You just wanted to slice and dice every crabing sadness. It doesn’t matter what type they were, you swiftly dispatched of them one by one - in the most brutal way.
They all should just die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE — JUST CRABBING DIE, ALL OF YOU
On the prowl you round a corner to strike down the next blinding sadness - and you almost did the worst mistake of your life. And you have lived a truly pathetic, disgusting life.
You thought a sadness was lurking around the corner, but instead of going for a mishapen monster you almost stab Isabeau. Your eyes widen and you fling your arm back as fast as possible - and yet you still accidentally cut Isabeau's arm. The painful knot in your stomach gets so much worse. You jump back, to get some distance and try to control your breathing, but you were panting from all the running, slicing and crafting. Beau was saying something but the cotton in your head became worse as well.
They were shielding eachother from you, their weapons drawn. Bonnie out of your sight completely. You got the key to go deeper but they stood in your way. Why would they stand in your way..?
"Lay down your weapon Sif", you hear that sentence again. This time Isabeau was saying it, his eyes scared but soft? But also keeping up a fighting stance? Would... would they fight you if you didn’t? You don’t want to fight them. You don’t want to hurt them and they would never want to hurt you, right? But why do they look like they are preparing to fight you? Your grip tightens around your stained dagger. Your... dagger.. ...?
You look at your knife. There are no tears to help you loop back. And the sadnesses are running away from you. And you don’t want to fight your friends. But you are wielding the dagger. You could.. use it against yourself..?
You raise your dagger. Their stance stiffen in response. You turn the dagger around, your eye overflowing with sugary tears and – stab yourself in the stomach. Right where the knot is. It isn’t enough. You keep stabbing yourself mechanically into your stomach and chest and throat. The ringing is so loud in your ears, but you still hear the muffled screams of your friends. They are running for you to take away the knife. But you fall at your own dagger.