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Ford shuts down the portal. He's panicking. He can't catch his breath. He must act fast.
He picks up his journal and starts writing.
"I'VE BEEN DECEIVED."
"AND NOW IT IS TOO LATE!"
"THIS MACHINE WAS SUPPOSED TO CREATE KNOWLEDGE BUT IT IS TOO POWERFUL."
"IT MUST NOT FALL INTO THE WRONG HANDS, IF THE COUNTDOWN EVER REACHES ZERO, OUR UNIVERSE IS DOOMED."
"IF FULLY OPERATIONAL, IT COULD TEAR OUR UNIVERSE APART."
He writes down as he's sweating all over the pages.
"I trusted him. I FUCKING TRUSTED HIM." He smashes the pen he was using against a painting of Bill.
He's overwhelmed. He's feeling dizzy. He's scared. His heart is beating so fast, he can't count the beats anymore, which is something he does often.
His vision starts blurring, fading into black.
"I think I'm gonna throw up."
He starts throwing up everywhere like a fountain of disgusting shit.
The sight of his vomit is enough to make him faint.
He wakes up, exhausted and worn out. He realises he's in a different place than he was before, his living room, thank god, he was still in his house.
He rests his hand on his forehead. He feels like his head is about to explode. His entire body spasms.
"Fuck, here it comes." He leans out of his couch and starts coughing up blood (more than usual due to Bill possessing him an unbearable amount of times in the past), palm placed like below his coughing mouth, catching the blood.
He looks up. A note on the ground.
"No. No. No. NO. It's not... It can't..."
He picks it up, hands shaking, afraid to turn it over but does it anyway.
"IT'S NOT OVER.
YOU BELONG TO ME SIXER.
YOU WON'T GET AWAY."
His eyes widen, Bill, the note is from him, he knew it.
He can't do anything but fall down against the wall, then on the ground, and start breaking down into tears. Coddling up like a helpless little child.
"Fucking hell! GET OUT OF MY HEAD, BILL!" he wails
He eventually tires himself out and falls asleep.
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He woke up the next morning. He wished he never did after yesterday.
Usually, he has breakfast every morning, but he didn't feel like eating at all that day, or the day after that.
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It's been 4 days. He hasn't eaten or slept at all during that time and lived off of water. He felt like skin and bone. He also kept coughing up blood, every day.
His body finally gives in and collapses. Only for him to start seeing nightmares, Bill, Bill, and more Bill, as usual, but this time it was different.
This time it was just Bill, standing there. Ford was confused. Bill then, unbelievably, grew a mouth, and put on the most eerie, disturbing smile he has ever seen. Out of a sudden, Bill starts charging towards him, waking him up.
He jumps up from his sleep. Panting and huffing, trying to catch his breath.
He looks up to the window. It's night and it's raining.
"I'm going insane, I must be." He starts sobbing.
Hands up to his face, crying. "I can't do this."
He marched up to the kitchen, determined, he places his left hand on a table, holding a knife in his right hand.
Without second thought, he chops off his left hand's sixth finger.
He then, immediately, falls to the ground, screaming his lungs out in pain, a pool of blood quickly forming on the ground under his hand, mixing with the tears from his eyes.
"FUCKKKK!" he shouts.
What has he done? This is something Bill would do if he possessed him. Is he possessed? No. He knows he did this to himself.
He runs up to the bathroom, sanitising the wound and cleaning it and puts bandages over.
He drops down on the floor.
"I can't do this anymore." He says while he sobs uncontrollably.
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A few hours later, Fiddleford, unexpectedly, showed up at Stanford's house, to apologise for walking out on him.
He knocks on Ford's door, no answer.
"Ford? Hello?" Still no answer.
Fiddleford knew Ford had a backup key hidden in one of the trees, instead of under the door or something, Ford liked puzzles. Thankfully, Fiddleford remembered which tree Ford had hidden the key in. He puts the key in, he opens the door.
"Ford?" he shouts.
He's not in the living room.
"I swear if he's still in his Bill worship/study room..."
He uses the elevator, goes down to the second floor below, where the 'study' room was.
The doors open to the most horrifying image that would haunt Fiddleford for life, no matter how many times he uses his memory gun.
Stanford Pines, hanging from the ceiling, blood pool right under him.
"STANFORD! NO!" Fiddleford yells. He runs up to the hanging corpse.
He thought the image of Ford hanging himself was horrifying, what he saw next was 10x even more horrifying.
Stanford's lifeless face, eyes scorched out, and a very eerie smile carved on his mouth.
He also noticed one of Ford's fingers was chopped off.
He starts sobbing, hugging Stanford's hanging corpse tight and not letting it go. "No. No. I'm so sorry, buddy. It's all my fault, I shouldn't have left you. Please, come back to me. I miss you." He falls down to his knees, still crying.
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2 weeks later, Stanford Pines' funeral was held.
Not many family members showed up, including Stanley, because he wasn't informed of his twin brother's death.
Stanford's mom crying uncontrollably on his casket, while his dad didn't even shed a single tear. What a waste of space.
After everyone said their goodbyes, it was Fiddleford's turn to go up to his beloved friend's casket and say his final goodbyes.
Fiddleford can't help but shed even more tears before he can start speaking "I'm sorry, Stanford. I shouldn't have left you. I should've done more. I hope you're in a better place now.
Goodbye."
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THE END