Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Their eyes ache.

Y/N keeps their eyelids half shut. The figures in the room remain a blur, their vision not yet evened out. Multiple people stand around the area—it looks like there are around eight people, but that may just be their vision playing tricks on them.

A figure kneels—Y/N barely notices him approaching—he’s wearing a grey, blue, and red outfit. His voice is soft, but equally full of authority. Yet, Y/N can’t make out a full sentence of his words; Their brain refuses to put it all together.

Another figure kneels beside them, this one seeming to act more urgently. Their palette consists of simple shades of white, grey, and black.

The monotone figure grabs Y/N’s side before shaking them. The trance that had taken Y/N before fades quickly as the figures take the shape of people. There are indeed 8 people, Y/N was right. The onlookers’ eyes stay trained on Y/N whilst they talk with each other. Although they aren’t close enough for them to hear, Y/N manages to make out some words—‘New’, ‘danger’, ‘wrong timing’ and so on.

“Get up, the round’s about to start!” The monotone figure wore a hat and sunglasses. Their straight, grey hair, which matched their skin tone, stood out beneath the fedora. Their tie seemed to fall loose from the suit as it dangled over Y/N.

Y/N moved their eyes back to the figures in the background—many of which appeared Robloxian, with the exception of one: A man who levitated. His head looked to be a blue pumpkin with a fire inside. Atop his head rested two pairs of antlers, whilst his clothes resembled grey robes with indescribable language plastered along them.

Y/N fights against their body’s protest to stay still. Sitting up, the other man helps them. Wrinkles plaster his face on a larger scale compared to the younger, monotone man who sits to his right.

“…Where am-“

“Shit, it’s gonna start!” The monotone man interrupts Y/N.

“Just hide, and whatever you do, don’t-!” The older man chimes in, but before his words hold worth, Y/N finds themself in an entirely different environment.

The hard wooden floor and warm atmosphere that ‘comforted’ them before is gone and replaced with what seems like a graveyard. The air is crisp and carries an acidic, poisonous smell. Their nose tingles in discomfort as the scent lingers in their nostrils.

Lifting their body, Y/N manages to stand on shaky legs. Almost falling, they quickly grab onto a nearby tree for support. Y/N glances around the graveyard; It isn’t huge, and Y/N could very easily leave through one of the four openings, but they remember what the older man had stated before they were teleported.

”Just hide, and whatever you do, don’t-!”

It’s comical, truly! The sentence being left unfinished at what seems the most important part!

Y/N pushes off the tree, moving sluggishly towards what looks like a machine of sorts. Sitting down beside it, Y/N pulls their knees to their chest. They want to cry, but what would they cry about? They had only just noticed that their memories were completely wiped, with only their name sticking with them. Maybe it was for the better, maybe this was hell, and they had done some unforgivable act to deserve it.

That’s when they hear it—a bloodcurdling, unidentifiable noise. Almost like a call in another language, but twisted and echoed to sound more terrifying purposely.

It played again, this time louder, allowing Y/N to hear it clearer.

Ki ki ma ma…

They see it out of the corner of their eye, but they are too slow. A machete swings straight at them, causing a large gash across their shoulder. Y/N screams; Screams louder than they thought they could. The perpetrator’s face hides behind a mask covered in dirt and…fresh blood? Were there other people in the area? Was it the same people from when they woke up? No time for this. Scrambling to their feet, Y/N ran. If they were to stay, the maniac would surely take their head next.

They run over a bridge. The putrid smell intensifies as they walk over the acidic, green water—if it can even be called water.

Glancing behind them, they notice the maniac keeping speed, if not catching up. Y/N’s eyes dart back in front of them. A bridge formation, of what seems like dirt, rests connecting the two sides. They book it towards the make-shift bridge. The soft dirt takes them by surprise as they slip and fall into the acidic water. Their skin starts to burn, and the maniac gains another hit. This time, the cut is deeper and lies on their back. Y/N lets out another scream before getting up, this time much slower. They get out of the river, and the burning stops, but the after-sting of acid lingers on their skin.

They continue to run.

Y/N glances back to see how close they are, and if perfect timing, they watch as the maniac prepares to deal another blow. They can only watch in terror as his machete lowers to hit them square in the hea-

A man in what seems to be the military uniform of a high-ranking officer quickly runs in front of the killer, blocking the machete with just his arm. The man’s blue hair catches Y/N’s eye, along with his strong figure and intimidating height. Y/N lets out a short sigh of relief, but they know that was only one attack. The man backs up, protecting Y/N behind him.

“Thank you, we should run before-“ Y/N falls silent when they realize them talking messed up the man’s punch.

The man’s fist was on route to score the middle of the maniac’s face before Y/N momentarily distracts him. His fist doesn’t move fast enough as the maniac quickly slashes him across the stomach, messing up the punch entirely. The man stumbles back but stops himself to make sure not to knock Y/N over.

“Run!” The man balances his ground, preparing to stand against the psycho once again.

“I can’t just leave you, especially since I messed up your attack!”

“You’re lower than me, one more hit and you’re done.” He said whilst swiftly moving him and Y/N out of the way to dodge an attack. Y/N bit their tongue. He was right, one more hit and Y/N may not even be able to stand.

The maniac threw another hit, this time it was clear the military man wouldn’t have time to move, but Y/N might be able to.

Without thinking, they moved themself in front of the man to take the attack.

Why?

They don’t believe the man’s life is more valuable than their own. Maybe to return the favour of saving their life, but all they did was reverse their good deed.

Y/N doesn’t think sometimes, how stupid of them.

They feel the machete go right into their face. It hurts like hell. They want to scream, but clearly the machete sliced right into the brain; they’re pretty much a ragdoll. No thoughts of anything smart or cocky. Just pain, so much pain.

Chapter Text

The pain doesn’t last. The dark area around them quickly changes, replaced with wooden floors and a warm atmosphere. 

I’m breathing too fast.

Only then did Y/N notice how fast they were breathing. Their hands visibly shake as they raise them to touch their forehead. However, there is no crimson bleed that paints their hands. Their head, which they remember was slashed right through the middle, is perfectly intact–it feels completely fine. 

“What. The. Fuck.” Y/n mutters under their breath. They touch their forehead again, expecting there to be blood; they must have missed it the first time. How are they alive? 

Their breathing doesn’t slow, their heart races like they’re still getting chased. Someone takes their hands, which have been touching all over their head repeatedly in a mad manner. The person holds their hands in theirs, speaking reassuring words to calm Y/N down—words that Y/N only understands after concentrating more closely…

“Calm down, breathe—you’re safe,” Y/N looks up at the individual. His skin rests a fair yellow, like that of a goldfish. His clothes, which resemble those of a pizza worker, are bright red and black. A red visor blocks the light from obstructing the man’s eyes. “You’re back in the lobby, you’re safe,” he says, standing up, “My name’s Elliot.” He reaches out a hand to Y/N.

“I’m, uh, Y/N,” Y/N moves some hair out of their face before taking Elliot’s hand and standing up. They trip slightly whilst standing up, still visibly shaken. “So, where am I?”

Elliot sighs because he knows somebody would need to explain it eventually—and he is that unlucky somebody. “Everyone here got teleported against our will, like you. Our memories are wiped, but some things will slowly come back to you.” Elliot’s tone is thorny; he is visibly uncomfortable with the subject. 

Y/N hadn’t noticed it until now; they don’t remember anything other than their name. They silently beat themself up for it, pushing the thought to the back of their brain.

“Eventually they’ll give you back a talent or ability of yours,” Elliot summons a pizza into his hand, “I can summon a pizza, which heals the others when they are low. I can also gain a speed boost at will. In the lobby, I can do it as much as I want, but in-game, I have to take breaks in between each one.” Elliot’s tone lifts a bit more.

“They’ll? Somebody’s responsible for this?” Y/N’s tone rushes.

Elliot presses his lips, “We call them the spectre; I mean, we’re not even sure they exist. But obviously someone or something brought us here.” Y/N stays silent, looking past Elliot as if they’re thinking deeply about something. Elliot clears his throat, “There’s one round each day, they’re 30 or so minutes long.” 

Y/N looks back behind them. Through the windows, the night sky’s stars and moon shine. “So it does turn day? I thought the moon wasn’t moving at first,” Y/N comments, turning their head back to Elliot.

“Well—uh, kinda? The clock over there is working, and that’s kind of what we go by for time. It’s always night, though; the moon doesn’t move.” Elliot bats an eye at the clock on a nearby wall. Elliot’s head then perks up, like he just remembered something, “Oh, right. We also all have our own cabins. We don’t really need to sleep or eat or anything, but I guess if you need alone time…”

Y/N smiles slightly; the idea of a place they can spend alone sounds great.

Then, before them, people appear—the same people from when they first woke up. They all seem to have been teleported at the same speed that Y/N was earlier. 

“You owe me,” A man holding a sword says before his sword disappears. The man is considerably chubbier than the rest of the group. His hair rests in thick brown curls, and his skin seems to be the same piercing yellow as Elliot’s. His shirt is white with the words ‘Blame John’ on it. His blue shorts leave the rest of his legs exposed; dark brown curly hair covers them.

“I saved your ass last time; we’re even,” responds the same military, blue-haired man from earlier. However, his uniform seems to have changed to that of a lower-ranking officer, almost like a combat-ready private.

“That’s Guest,” Elliot whispers, “He’s our army guy.”

The blue-haired man's eyes drift over to Y/N. He grins and takes a step forward, “You don’t look as distressed as I thought you would be.”

“I already explained some things to them,-…” Elliot cuts himself short in speaking—in such a way that it’s apparent there is something he wants to add, something he doesn’t want to say in front of Y/N.

Guest looks at Y/N, then back at Elliot. He walks past Elliot, turning his head slightly to look at him. From Y/N’s position, they swear they see Guest whisper something to him before walking past him. Guest turns around to look at Y/N, “C’mon, I’ll show you your cabin.”

—

Y/N lies in their bed, an odd feeling scratching at the back of their brain. The feeling of the bed is foreign to-...whatever they had before. Y/N switches from their back to their side to face the window. Elliot was right, the moon hasn’t moved at all the entire time. 

Knock, knock

Y/N stays lying, pondering on whether or not they heard a knock at the door. Then they hear it again,

Knock, knock

Y/N pushes themself up and gets off the bed. They glance slightly at the unlit fireplace on the other side of the room while making their way to the door.

When they open the door, a man with a grey sweater and a…construction hat? Stands outside. A shorter and slimmer man stands behind him, almost like a shy puppy. The slimmer man’s hair looks to be a rat's nest, whilst his muscle shirt has a strangely familiar design imprinted on it. 

“I don’t think we’ve met properly yet. I’m Builderman.” The man in front says, moving the clothes he is holding into his left hand to extend his right for a handshake. Tiny shrubs of dark grey hair around his mouth catch Y/N’s eye as he speaks. 

“I’m Y/N,” they reach out their hand, shaking Builderman’s hand. The man’s hand is rough and slightly calloused, as if he performs manual labour of some form.

“Oh, and this is Two Time,” Builderman breaks from the handshake, turning his body slightly towards Two Time before placing his hand behind Two Time to bring him beside him instead of behind him.

Two Times' eyes remain trained away from Y/N, clearly antisocial or anxious. Builderman’s eyes seem sad for only a second before looking back at Y/N, “We brought you some clothes, thought you’d need ‘em.” He lifts the stack, which seems to be 2-3 pairs of pants, shirts, underwear, and a few other clothing items. 

Y/N took the stack. “Thank you,” Their tone rises momentarily, truly grateful for the clothes. 

“If you need anything else, my cabin is 2 rows away from yours. There’s a flower pot right beside my door in case you forget,” Builderman smiles before turning to leave. His hand raises slightly to wave back. Two Time quickly follows closely behind, exchanging a transitory glance back at Y/N before looking ahead of him. 

Y/N turns to close their door, giving one last glance at the duo. However, something catches their eye: a quick reflection near Two Time’s waist–a knife. Which doesn’t make sense, unless Two Time had purposely summoned it for their talk.

Y/N closes the door with a sigh. Two Time had summoned his knife because he was wary enough to think he would have to fight back against Y/N. 

Y/N quickly changes out of their clothes and into the fresh ones Builderman had just dropped off–a plain white T-shirt and rubber ducks pyjama pants. They jump into bed and get under the covers, falling asleep almost immediately.