Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Two time awoke to an awful headache, and their limbs.. misplaced.

Misplaced?

The jolted up, eyes flying open only to be met with darkness.

They couldn't feel the ground, couldn't feel anything except their pounding head.

They looked down to their body, only to be met with.. nothing.

There was absolutely nothing, just black surroundings them from all sides.

They would've assumed their eyes had been covered if not for the fact nothing could obscure their vision this well without also affecting their movement.

Was this true death?

What they had waited for, what they had expected the first time.

No, it's couldn't be.

Death was nothing, and nothing included consciousness.

Nothing wasn't a black void, it was Nothing.

However, no matter how panic-enducing this situation would've been an hour ago, they just felt.. nothing.

At least that was nothing, not this sorry excuse for death.

Without warning, a bright, blinding red appeared, made up of thousands of numbers.
And a rather ugly hat with a distasteful S on it.

They would've thought it was the Spawn itself if not for the fact it was ugly as hell and not the incomprehensible beauty of the Spawn.

"⅁☈ℇℇ⍑⟟☊⅁⎎, ⍑⏙⌾ ⍑⟟⍓ℇ."
(Greetings, Two time.)

The voice was distorted, and barely even a voice. It reminded Two time of the whispers that plagued them during life and death.

Their throat felt tight, not with fear, but with forced closing. This being didn't want them to speak just yet. A rather good idea, they probably would've gagged at first. The thing was NOT pleasant to look at. Seriously. Ugly ass bitch.

"⟟ ⍲⍓ ⏧☊⌾⏙☊ ⍲⎎ ⍑ℍℇ ⎎⍴ℇ⍧⍑☈ℇ•"
(I am known as The Spectre.)

Elliot had mentioned that name once, whilst sleeping that is. How did it know their name? What an idiotic question, it was obviously some sort of deity. Could it read their mind? If so, it probably wouldn't be happy to know they had been insulting it. Spawn forgive them and help this deity find a better form.

"⎎⍑⌾⍴ ⍧⍲⎾⎾⟟☊⅁ ⍓ℇ ⌰⅁⎾⍦ ⌦ℇ🜅⌾☈ℇ ⟟ ⎎ℇ☊⟄ ⍦⌾⌰ ⌦⍲⍧⏧ ⍑⌾ ⍑ℍℇ ⟄⍲⍓☊ℇ⟄ ⎾⌾⌦⌦⍦, ⌾ℍ ⍓⍦ ⅁⌾⟄⎎• ☈⌾⌦⎾⌾🝍⟟⍲☊⎎ ⍑ℍℇ⎎ℇ ⟄⍲⍦⎎, ☊⌾ ☈ℇ⎎⍴ℇ⍧⍑•"
(Stop calling me ugly before I send you back to the damned lobby, oh my gods. Robloxians these days, no respect.)

So it CAN read minds. Wait, they didn't want to go back to the lobby yet. Had the others found their body yet? Or were they still in their body? Was their body still hanging there? Dear Spawn, who would find their body? They hoped it wasn't Noob, or Veeronica. Those two were so sweet they didn't want either to see something so gruesome. Was this thing the being that held them in this Spawn-forsaken realm? That would make sense, what other being with this power could keep them here and pull them out of its own free will? It was made up of number, 1s and 0s. It reminds them of 007n7s 'c00lGUI'... That was what it was called right?

"⌾⏧⍲⍦ ⍦⌾⌰ ⍧⍲☊ ⎎ℍ⌰⍑ ⌰⍴ ☊⌾⏙, ⟟ ⌦☈⌾⌰⅁ℍ⍑ ⍦⌾⌰ ℍℇ☈ℇ 🜅⌾☈ ⍲ ☈ℇ⍲⎎⌾☊• ⎎ℇ☈⟟⌾⌰⎎⎾⍦• ⏙ℍ⍦ ⟟⎎ ⎎⌾ ⍓⌰⍧ℍ ⅁⌾⟟☊⅁ ⌾☊ ⟟☊ ⍑ℍℇ☈ℇ¿"
(Okay you can shut up now, I brought you here for a reason. Seriously. Why is so much going on in there?)

Telling them to shut up? How rude. The Spawn would not approve of such behavior. Though, this was another deity. It likely wasn't to be judged by the Spawn. Oh it brought them here for something? That makes sense, why else would it pull them from the survivors cabin? Oh right, it said to shut up. Well, to be fair, they weren't speaking. They were thinking. How does one stop thinking? Could they just repeat one word over and over? Would that count? Duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck .... Okay they can't keep that up.

"☈⌾⌦⎾⌾🝍⟟⍲☊⎎ ☊⌾⏙⍲⟄⍲⍦⎎, ⌰☊⍲⌦⎾ℇ ⍑⌾ ℇ⍻ℇ☊ ⍧⌾☊⍑☈⌾⎾ ⍑ℍℇ⟟☈ ⌾⏙☊ ⍓⟟☊⟄• ⍴⍲⍑ℍℇ⍑⟟⍧• ⌾ℍ ⏙⍲⟟⍑ ⍑ℍ⟟⎎ ⌾☊ℇ'⎎ ⟄ℇ🜅ℇ⍧⍑⟟⍻ℇ, ☊ℇ⍻ℇ☈⍓⟟☊⟄•"
(Robloxians nowadays, unable to even control their own mind. Pathetic. Oh wait this one's defective, nevermind.)

Defective??? Oh that's worse. Were they defective? Why didn't it just say that in its mind and not aloud? Could they hear its thoughts as well? Was this just a place where everyone can hear everyone's thoughts? Or was this Spectre being just incredibly rude? They should probably go with the second option, considering they can't hear their thoughts thought they can still technically hear them but does it count as hearing if they weren't hearing it through their ears and instead just thinking it?

‘‘⎾ℇ⍑'⎎ ⏎⌰⎎⍑•• ⅁ℇ⍑ ⍑ℍ⟟⎎ ⌾⍻ℇ☈ ⏙⟟⍑ℍ• ⟟ ⟄⌾☊'⍑ ⎾⟟⏧ℇ ⍦⌾⌰ ⍲⎾☈ℇ⍲⟄⍦, ⟄ℇ⍲☈ ⅁⌾⟄⎎•’’
(Let's just.. get this over with. I don't like you already, dear gods.)

Well, at least it was honest. Honesty was difficult to find here for some odd reason. Those people and their inability to simply respect ones privacy. Ridiculous. Wait get what over with? Were they going to die again?? Well at least they were used to that, not this void world.

‘‘⟟ ⍲⍓ ⍲⏙⍲☈ℇ ⌾🜅 ⍦⌾⌰☈ ⎾⟟⍑⍑⎾ℇ ‹⍴☈⌾⌦⎾ℇ⍓› ⏙⟟⍑ℍ ⍑ℍℇ ⌾⍑ℍℇ☈ [⍴⎾⍲⍦ℇ☈⎎], ⍲☊⟄ ⟟ ⍲⍓ ℍℇ☈ℇ ⍑⌾.. ‹🜅⟟🝍› ⟟⍑•’’
(I am aware of your little 'problem' with the other [Players], and I am here to.. 'fix' it.)

Fix it? Fix it how? Were they allowed a diary with a lock? Or were the other survivors that looked without their permission going to be talked to the same as them? What was with this Spcetre being and being so cryptic? Could they not just get a straight answer on why they were here? They didn't like this place. It was weird and empty and it made them unable to see their body, which wasn't too bad, but they also couldn't breathe here but technically it didn't seem like they needed to breathe here considering they weren't choking, actually were they choking? They couldn't tell. What was with this place and it's UGLLY ASS inhabitant?

‘‘⟟ ⎎⍲⟟⟄ ⎎⍑⌾⍴ ⍧⍲⎾⎾⟟☊⅁ ⍓ℇ ⌰⅁⎾⍦• ⟄ℇ⟟⍑⍦'⎎ ℍ⍲⍻ℇ 🜅ℇℇ⎾⟟☊⅁ ⍑⌾⌾ ⍦'⏧☊⌾⏙•’’
(I said stop calling me ugly. Deity's have feeling too y'know. :()

Oh right, it could hear their thoughts. Could it actually hear their thoughts or could it read them? If it could read them what kind of handwriting would it be? Would it be theirs? Oh they didn't have the best handwriting, that wouldn't be good. [LIARRRR] Liar? Liar who? [oh shit is this thing on] Apparently? Was this also the Spectre? How did it know what their handwriting looked like? [i wasnt here] But you were!!! Who are you and what are you doing in their mind?

‘‘⟟'⍓ ⏎⌰⎎⍑ ⅁⌾☊☊⍲ ⟟⅁☊⌾☈ℇ ⍑ℍ⍲⍑ ⍑ℍℇ☊• ⍧⍲☊ ⏙ℇ ⅁ℇ⍑ ⍑⌾ ⍑ℍℇ ⍴⌾⟟☊⍑ ☊⌾⏙¿’’
(I'm just gonna ignore that then. Can we get to the point now?)

Well technically they were only waiting on it, considering they had no idea what they were doing here. This Spectre being hurt their eyes, not just because it was incredibly ugly, apologies, but also because it was just bright.

‘‘⟟ ℍ⍲⍻ℇ ⍲☊ ⌾🜅🜅ℇ☈ 🜅⌾☈ ⍦⌾⌰, ⍑⏙⌾ ⍑⟟⍓ℇ•’’
(I have an offer for you, Two time.)

(Very important visual of Two time and the Spectre)

(Two time does NOT wanna be here 😭💥)

Chapter Text

Two time felt dizzy.

An offer? What kind of offer? It said it'd 'fix' their issue with the other survivors, sure, but it hadn't given any details. At all. It was rather frustrating, continuously being told of an offer but not what it was. This place feels weirder now. More fuzzy. The spectres weird 1s and 0s are blurry now, why? Even if they were before, they were just more so now. They needed the weird things 007n7 spoke of, glasses? They were pretty sure Amarah ha– Ow? What?

‘‘⏙⌾☈☈⍦ ☊⌾⍑, ⍲⎾⎾ ⍴⍲⟟☊ ⎎ℍ⍲⎾⎾ ⌦ℇ ☈ℇ⎾⟟ℇ⍻ℇ⟄ ⎎⌾⌾☊. ⟟🜅 ⍦⌾⌰'⎾⎾ ⏎⌰⎎⍑ ⎾ℇ⍑ ⍓ℇ ⎎⍴ℇ⍲⏧¡’’
(Worry not, all pain shall be relieved soon. If you'll just let me speak!)

Right right, it needed to speak and stuff. Why couldn't it just speak while they were thinking? Could it not focus on it's words with their mind constantly running? Ow ow, again? Rude, they were just thinking. It wasn't their fault they couldn't turn off their brain on will. The Spectre said they were defective, no? That made sense. Of course they were defective. They wouldn't be here if they had just done everything right. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive them. Spawn forgive–

‘‘⟄ℇ⍲☈ ⅁⌾⟄⎎•• ⏙⟟⎾⎾ ⍦⌾⌰ ⏎⌰⎎⍑ ⎎ℍ⌰⍑ ⌰⍴¿ ⍴⎾ℇ⍲⎎ℇ• ⟟ ⏙⌾⌰⎾⟄ ⎾⟟⏧ℇ ⍑⌾ ⎎⍴ℇ⍲⏧•’’
(Dear gods.. Will you just shut up? Please. I would like to speak.)

Yes, again. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. This isn't working, is it? No. It isn't... If it would just say what it needed to say they could both get this over with. For Spawns sake.

‘‘⍦ℇ⍲ℍ ⌾⏧⍲⍦, 🜅⍲⟟☈ ℇ☊⌾⌰⅁ℍ•’’
(Yeah okay, fair enough.)

‘‘⟟ ⍴☈⌾⍴⌾⎎ℇ ⍲•• ☈ℇ⎾⌾⍧⍲⍑⟟⌾☊, ⎾ℇ⍑'⎎ ⎎⍲⍦¿ ⍦⌾⌰'⎾⎾ ⌦ℇ 🜅☈ℇℇ ⌾🜅 ⍑ℍ⌾⎎ℇ ⍲☊☊⌾⍦⟟☊⅁⎾⍦ ⟟☊⍧⌾⍓⍴ℇ⍑ℇ☊⍑ ⎎⌰☈⍻⟟⍻⌾☈⎎•’’
(I propose a.. relocation, let's say? You'll be free of those annoyingly incompetent survivors.)

Relocation? They didn't li–... L̷̹̤̖͚͍̺̄̌͠E̴̤̳͛̄̔͋̎̑͠T̵̨͎̱̒̑͑ ̵̱̩̙͕͔̔́̑̌͂͋̅̿̕M̵͎̙̻̻͓̠̭̳̪͎͎̫̞̜̉̈́̀͜͝͝E̴͕̩̗̖̲͑͗̕ ̵̣̑̎̓̒G̴̺̰̭̠̫̜̍́̂̂̔̉̓̎̃̚Ǫ̴̧͉̻̫̙̪̜̫͉̬̞͋͋̊̈́͂͊̂̆̀̕͠ͅ •••Odd, they lost that train of thought. Relocation? They didn't hate the sound of that. They didn't like most of the other survivors. What bad could a relocation for them do? It wasn't like they had a real reason to say, or think technically, no. What harm could it do?

‘‘••• ⟟'⎾⎾ ⍑⍲⏧ℇ ⍑ℍ⍲⍑ ⍲⎎ ⍲ ⍦ℇ⎎•’’
(... I'll take that as a yes.)

‘‘⍑ℍℇ ☈ℇ⎾⌾⍧⍲⍑⟟⌾☊ ⏙⟟⎾⎾ ⌦ℇ ⍑⌾ ⍑ℍℇ ⏧⟟⎾⎾ℇ☈ ⍧⍲⌦⟟☊ ⟟☊⎎⍑ℇ⍲⟄, ℍ⌾⏙ 🜅⌰☊¡¡’’
(The relocation will be to the killer cabin instead, how fun!!)

Wait, would that make them a killer then? They didn't want to huŕ̷̨̨̡̧͖͚̪̠͛̊̈͑̂̽̇̔̒̽̋̈́͆́̓̈͐̎̅̓͑̓́͂̉̋͘ţ̸̺̯͌̌̉͒͗͊͑͋̕͘ ̶̧̡̡̼̬̺̜̗̩̝̭͖̠̪̹͎̘̘͙̫͖̜̱̹͓͍̖̥̼̼̘̹͇̱̻͕͍̟͐͊͂͗̇̈́̽̕͜ͅd̶̮̺͔̙̀̇̔̀̌͒̇͆͝͠͝ơ̷̡̛͚͓̗͎̈̿͗̓̉̏͊̃̃̒̿͆͑̈́̄̒͌͒̄̀̀̕͠͝͝ń̸̡̨̨̤̖͔͇̜̤̳̝̜͕͕͈͚̙͌̊̇̀̐́̽̋̋̀́̏͒͑̄̔̓̐͊̈́́͋͜͠͝͝͠'̵̢̨̢̧͎̳͈͖̞̭͕̻̘͇̻̱̼̳̹̗̮͍͈̬̭̱͔͍̙͖̥̱̄̅̈́̓̋̾͌̽̊̇̄̒͆̈̌͂̄̽̈́̂̏̌̇̾̆̌̏̿̍̑̀̈͑̓̿͘̕̕͠͝t̴̨̡̧̨̧̧̧̢̛̠͙̼͓̱̗̻͓̱̜̜̩̫͚̼̥̲̰̩̳̭̤̰͔̩̮̯̝̠͕̬͇͙̦́̀̋̌͌͆̋͒̉̈́̄͛́̂̇̄̅̆͌̚̚͝ͅ ̸̡̱̪̣͖̯̟͈̩̮͍̯͓̥̝̍̈́̀̀̒̃̀̂̈́̕͜w̸̨̧̨͔̩̰̠̭̗̙̩̜͉̘͇͍̫̻̬͕̩̦̳̫̟̪̭̹̬̼̣̺̥̤̘̲̱͚̩̱̆̔̽̓͌͊̀̀̉͐̀̍̈́͛͐̄͐̂̑͂̂́͛̉͂͋̅̈́̆̋͂͘͘͜͜͝͝a̸̯̘̲͍͍̮̩̩̳̙̮͓̮͙̣͇͉̾́̒̿̆̿̅͌͋͋̚͜͜͠͝ͅn̵̳̠͕̭͈̤̲̯͔̱̩̞̻̭̗̘̹̩͇̹̭̥̫̹̩̺͍̅̆͊̈́̃̌͒̇͂̒̽́͋́̿̓͌̎̊̔̃̊̐͌́͛͛́̑̓̂̿̿̊͂̑́̀̊̅͘͘͝͝͠t̵̨̢̢̡͎̰͍̣͇̤̝̮̥͇̭̖̟̯̩͓̮͓̤̥͉̼̰͉̙̜̯̱̫̙͎͈̜͛̍̏͊̽̎̑̐̓͛̉̈́̈͑̍̅͘͘͘͜͝ͅ ̸̢̨̨̢̢̢̨̨̠͎̪̩͖͓̖̻͉̫̪̣͈̩̳̳͈͙͍̝̟͖͖̫̰̭̘̳̩̮͈̹̘̪̙͉̮̱̀̅̅͋̑̓́̿͒͊̕̚͜ṭ̶̡̢̨̨̛̬̟̟̱̳̩͙̮̤͖͎͚̻̫̭̣̼̹̰̮̣̟̝͎͕̺̟̜͚̟͓͖̀̇̓̈́̈́͗̉̋̈̊̎͌̈́̄̊̓̕͘̕̚̚͝ơ̶̛̹̙͈̞̪̝̗̤̘͈̖̝̪̺̲̝̘͎̈́̏̾́̈̓̒̈̽̃̽̀̈́͋͐͗͐̈́́̕·̵̢̨̟͎̞̤̫̲̬̦̟̤̰̦͙͖̙̗̠̟̣̦̘̠͉̹͖̘̺̱̿̑̏̒̊͑̎̆̎̀͌͋͌̏̾͗͛̓̄̅̿̒͊̽͊͒͐̏̐̋̎͂̕̚͜͠͝ͅ·̷̨̨̛̣̰̠̭̹͙̟̘̤̥̝̮͓͇̫̳̳͔̟͖̜̘̳͙̠͖̟̯̙̘͈̹̱̻̪͕̺̩̺̜̎͆̾̊͋̂̀̅͌̈́̾͋̍̐́́͂͛̓͋̐͊̒̆͋̀̑͆͂̽͘͜·̵͉̦̪͇̜̱̻͈̹̗͖̏͋͊͑̉̈́́̈́̀ͅ·̴̨̨̙̠̫̞̰̫̘̝̝͎̄̈́̄̍͌̆̽̓̈́̐̀̈́͘͝·̵̢̨̟͎̞̤̫̲̬̦̟̤̰̦͙͖̙̗̠̟̣̦̘̠͉̹͖̘̺̱̿̑̏̒̊͑̎̆̎̀͌͋͌̏̾͗͛̓̄̅̿̒͊̽͊͒͐̏̐̋̎͂̕̚͜͠͝ͅ·̷̨̨̛̣̰̠̭̹͙̟̘̤̥̝̮͓͇̫̳̳͔̟͖̜̘̳͙̠͖̟̯̙̘͈̹̱̻̪͕̺̩̺̜̎͆̾̊͋̂̀̅͌̈́̾͋̍̐́́͂͛̓͋̐͊̒̆͋̀̑͆͂̽͘͜·̵͉̦̪͇̜̱̻͈̹̗͖̏͋͊͑̉̈́́̈́̀ͅ·̴̨̨̨̨̙̠̫̞̰̫̘̝̝͎̰̜͖̘̩̰̘͇̹̬͉̠̻̗͈͉̮͉͉̭̖̖͕̟̻̳̼̄̈́̄̍͌̆̽̓̈́̐̀̈́͘͜͝·̵̢̨̟͎̞̤̫̲̬̦̟̤̰̦͙͖̙̗̠̟̣̦̘̠͉̹͖̘̺̱̿̑̏̒̊͑̎̆̎̀͌͋͌̏̾͗͛̓̄̅̿̒͊̽͊͒͐̏̐̋̎͂̕̚͜͠͝ͅ·̷̨̨̛̣̰̠̭̹͙̟̘̤̥̝̮͓͇̫̳̳͔̟͖̜̘̳͙̠͖̟̯̙̘͈̹̱̻̪͕̺̩̺̜̎͆̾̊͋̂̀̅͌̈́̾͋̍̐́́͂͛̓͋̐͊̒̆͋̀̑͆͂̽͘͜·̵͉̦̪͇̜̱̻͈̹̗͖̏͋͊͑̉̈́́̈́̀ͅ·̴̨̨̨̨̙̠̫̞̰̫̘̝̝͎̰̜͖̘̩̰̘͇̹̬͉̠̻̗͈͉̮͉͉̭̖̖͕̟̻̳̼̄̈́̄̍͌̆̽̓̈́̐̀̈́͘͜͝·̵̢̨̟͎̞̤̫̲̬̦̟̤̰̦͙͖̙̗̠̟̣̦̘̠͉̹͖̘̺̱̿̑̏̒̊͑̎̆̎̀͌͋͌̏̾͗͛̓̄̅̿̒͊̽͊͒͐̏̐̋̎͂̕̚͜͠͝ͅ·̷̨̨̛̣̰̠̭̹͙̟̘̤̥̝̮͓͇̫̳̳͔̟͖̜̘̳͙̠͖̟̯̙̘͈̹̱̻̪͕̺̩̺̜̎͆̾̊͋̂̀̅͌̈́̾͋̍̐́́͂͛̓͋̐͊̒̆͋̀̑͆͂̽͘͜·̵͉̦̪͇̜̱̻͈̹̗͖̏͋͊͑̉̈́́̈́̀ͅ·̴̨̨̨̨̙̠̫̞̰̫̘̝̝͎̰̜͖̘̩̰̘͇̹̬͉̠̻̗͈͉̮͉͉̭̖̖͕̟̻̳̼̄̈́̄̍͌̆̽̓̈́̐̀̈́͘͜͝·̵̢̨̟͎̞̤̫̲̬̦̟̤̰̦͙͖̙̗̠̟̣̦̘̠͉̹͖̘̺̱̿̑̏̒̊͑̎̆̎̀͌͋͌̏̾͗͛̓̄̅̿̒͊̽͊͒͐̏̐̋̎͂̕̚͜͠͝ͅ·̷̨̨̛̣̰̠̭̹͙̟̘̤̥̝̮͓͇̫̳̳͔̟͖̜̘̳͙̠͖̟̯̙̘͈̹̱̻̪͕̺̩̺̜̎͆̾̊͋̂̀̅͌̈́̾͋̍̐́́͂͛̓͋̐͊̒̆͋̀̑͆͂̽͘͜·̵͉̦̪͇̜̱̻͈̹̗͖̏͋͊͑̉̈́́̈́̀ͅ·̴̨̨̨̨̙̠̫̞̰̫̘̝̝͎̰̜͖̘̩̰̘͇̹̬͉̠̻̗͈͉̮͉͉̭̖̖͕̟̻̳̼̄̈́̄̍͌̆̽̓̈́̐̀̈́͘͜͝·̵̢̨̟͎̞̤̫̲̬̦̟̤̰̦͙͖̙̗̠̟̣̦̘̠͉̹͖̘̺̱̿̑̏̒̊͑̎̆̎̀͌͋͌̏̾͗͛̓̄̅̿̒͊̽͊͒͐̏̐̋̎͂̕̚͜͠͝ͅ·̷̨̨̛̣̰̠̭̹͙̟̘̤̥̝̮͓͇̫̳̳͔̟͖̜̘̳͙̠͖̟̯̙̘͈̹̱̻̪͕̺̩̺̜̎͆̾̊͋̂̀̅͌̈́̾͋̍̐́́͂͛̓͋̐͊̒̆͋̀̑͆͂̽͘͜·̵͉̦̪͇̜̱̻͈̹̗͖̏͋͊͑̉̈́́̈́̀ͅ·̴̨̨̨̨̙̠̫̞̰̫̘̝̝͎̰̜͖̘̩̰̘͇̹̬͉̠̻̗͈͉̮͉͉̭̖̖͕̟̻̳̼̄̈́̄̍͌̆̽̓̈́̐̀̈́͘͜͝ ̴̪̂̾̋̍̏̇̃͋͋͐͊̉̏͆̅̇͒̚͠p̸̨̧̢̢̖̠̙̦͍͉̩͈̫͕͓͎̫̯̣̜͖̰̪̣̪̥̻̖̲̰̬̗̗̜̉̓̅̑̎̅͗͐̃̈̓̃̉͒̿́̃̀̐̑͌̎̍͌̀̀̐̈́́͘͘̚l̶̡̢̡̧̖̥̟̫̺̳̘͚̬̘͉̲̥̙̗̖͓̪͕͙͇̻͔̦͈̻͎̭̼̫̥̥̗͓̻̖͕̭̭̥͕̍̑͐͗̂̂̃̽̿͐̈̒͌̓̅̎͗̅̉͋̔̆̐̉͛̐͛͑͆̉͒̚͘͝͝ͅė̷̢̛͕̫͍͕̞͕̘͕̗̤̙̮͕̰̠͕͕̈a̵̧̡̢̡̛͍̱̩̰͉͈͓͖̻̞̗̼̞̯̜̳̱͍̪̠͈͓̙͎͙̤̗͓͙̞͓̭̦̠̮̬̽̄̍̅̈́̍̈͐͊͋̎͌͊̍̅͐̒̆̇̎̊̈́̎̔̑̂̄̐̀̍̄̈͗̈́́͐̉͐͘̕̚̕̕͘͜͝͝ş̴͚͕̪̰̝̫̬͊̏̽̈́̀͐͊́͝͠ề̵͙̥̖̟̣̳̩͔̱͓̣̪̄̑͌̇̌̄̋̑̈́̈́͋̏̀͌͐̑̐̽̈̏̕̚͜͝͝.̴̳͕͖̘̭̮̞̪̼͊͑̈́̈͂́̅̐̑̓̑͐͋̓̿̋̒͋̿̃͐́̈́̓̊̽̀͋̍͂͐̎́͘͘̚͘͝͠͝͝͠ͅ H̸̢̢̨͚͓͓͕̮̮̹̤̦͓͎̝̱͍̳̬͍͉̭͙̪͖̫͇͉̥̑͌̾̉̒̈́̓͗̋̔̃͌͑̂̋͑͛͛̿̌͗͗̆̕̕͜͠ͅE̶̻̬̟̳̱̘̟̖̺̺̲͎̭̘̭̯͙͚̺̓̐͂́̈́̔̎̚L̷̢̡̩͖̯͚̫̯̠͕͙̩̥͙̳͙̤̮͔̘͓̯̣̯͕͈̮͕͍͈̝̲͓̣̭̠̯̭͎̰͆̂̂̇̽͂͑̆͐͛̃̕͝ͅP̷͖̙̠͚̪̫̋̀̀̋̀̉̈́͆̆̀͒͐̊͋̇̈́̈́̊̾̿̊̊͆̑̎́̈̇̀̄̚̚̚͠͝ͅ ̶̧̡̢̧̨̗̼̞̺̻͖̣͔͖̜̦̞͖̰̞̱̙̤̬̘̻̪̣̳̝̰̬̺̹̪̜̯͙̤̯̰̼̲̯̳͖̱́̈́̿͆̾͌̑̈́̈́̇͂̿͘ͅM̶̨̢̡̨̡̡̨̛͙̺͕͍̺̩͇̹̬̪͙̫̖̼̘̳̦͈͍͖͉̣͉̠͕̻̙͈͇̟̩̥̱̻̬͇̥͈̝͉̓̾͋̃͒̆̀͛͑̔̉̂́̾̔̃̎͛͂̈́̂̉̋͐͘͜͜͠E̷̡̧̡͎̪̣̘̩͎̬̲͕̘͙͖̹̼͈̣̼̟͇̟͚͍̣̬̺͕̺͔͔̰̔̃̂̈̀̑̊̅͛͌͐̍͗͜͠Į̷̛̦̬̖͕̥͉̼̲̫͙̤͍̬̾̔͌́͋͂̔̍͊́̏́̓́̂̄̏̓͆̐̅̓͆̍̉͊̿͆͒͘͘ ̸̧̢̨̡̢̨̛͍̹̗̝̦͍̤̥̼̗̙̹̬͓͈̻̤̯̮͍̞͙̮̘̥̙̞̩̜̝̺͓̖̝͈̲͈̝͙̆̄̀̃͐͗̿́͐̀͂̓̿̉͒͌̃̓̅͒̋̉̐̏̊͊̑̅̓̈̃̍͌̓̈̓̓̌̕̕̚͘̕͝͝͝Ḓ̵̛̙̱̯͉͆̆͋̈́̈́́̄̔̑̈́̈́̇̉̌́̉̊̓̈́̀̎̈́͘̕͘̕͘̚͠͝͝͝O̵͚͖̙̘̖̫̟̯̖̗̪͔̲̼̤͎̠͉̗̩̹̮̯̞̩̮̜̱̻̲̱̳̳͓͍̬̜̳̤͗͌͠ͅN̶̉͊̌͗͑̂͊͐̈͋̈́̃͂̔͋̅͗́̾̔̌̃͆̊̀̚̕͘̚̕͘̕͠͝͝͠T̴̛̓͑̀̈́̽͑̈́̽͗̾̈͒͗̕ ̴̛͎̎͋̽̈́̽̇̿͛͋̾͆͌̈́͑̏̅̒̾̐̚͘̚͘͝͝W̶̢̡̡̝̺̤̯̘̞̤̟͈̗͚̖͓͎̪͉̯͉̫̜̲͍̖͖̤̥̬͔̻͇̯͕̳̿́̀̈͐̓͐̌̽̏̌̉̓̈́̊̎̄̅͐̏̍̋͂͌̚͠͝ͅÀ̴̧̨̗͕̟̪̜̘̻͈̳͍̪̺̻̭̗͙̙̺̖̑̉͒͛̈́̾̔͛͌̾́͗̓̂͗́̐̐̈̀̈́̃̎͊̓̓̕͜͝N̶̢̗͙͖̘͕̺̾̅̅̃̽̿͌̉̅̑̐̎̄͝Ţ̶̡̢̛̩̫̦͉̲̤̭̭̥̞̭̅͆̽̓́̽̂̎͐̊̚͜ͅͅ ̴̨̘̼͔̠͙̩̦̫̥̪͚̺͚͖̹̳̓̀̑̓̍̃͒̇͌́͋́̾̾̎̾͑̅̈̇̈̈́͊́̍̌͑̍̔̑̆̒͛͌̈͊̍̚͘̚͝͝͝͝͝T̶̢̨̩̳̖̠͙̺̲͎͙͓̬̟̗͍̗͔̳͎͖̯͉̼̘͈̻̰̱̞̦͙͈̰͊͛͂̽́̓͐̉̃̃̏̈́̆̀͠ͅͅͅƠ̷̧̨̡̢̛͖̩̭̳̫̠̩̦̩̘͇̤͖̼͖̻̯͉̦̬̳̹͚̍͋́̑̓̅̐̄̇̑̐͑̍̏̂̎̌̿͛̅͋̂̅͒̂̅̂̎̊̏̂̃̔̅͑͑̚̚̕͘͝͝ͅ ̶̨̨̡̨̛̯͍̩̗͇͈̺͍̦͍͓̯͎̳̪͓̰͇̠̞̙̣̦̤̪̦͎̺̐́͊̇̉͑̌̏͛̈́̒̌́̽̀͊̄̏͑̎̒̿̐̾͋͌̈͑̈̇͂̈́̋͒̑̓̃̍̈́͝͝͝ͅͅH̷̢̛̛̛̠̮͔̬̟̝̳̱̻͍͎͇̫͖̝͎͖͎̳̣̤̗̺̰͚̥͍̤̭̪͉̦͕͍͔̳̰͖̩̟̗̀̍̈͆̎̿͑͊̂̂̓͒̽̉͛̐̽̽́̈̅̀̾͝ͅƯ̶̡̢̧̡̢̡͇͍̩̙̼̭̼̘̤̫̠̣̫̱̘̱̘̰͓̫̝̜̦̙̭͖̜̖͙̖̙͉͎̯̘̰̻̘͇̗̖̞̎͂̏̅͊̈́̋̂͆͘̕͝ͅͅR̷̢̘͙͕̝̥͓̖̺̬̪͚̻̖̜̞͙͚̦̞̘̥̘͈̬̬͕̄͐̍̈̾͛̾̉̓͊̌́̽̔́́̑͛́̃̕͜͜͝͠͠ͅŢ̶̡̢̢̩͖̺̫̠͖̫̼̱͙̥̹̘̗̺͍͙̮̥̳̠͔̦̭̰͖̺̘̩̳̺̤̠̖̓̈́̑̀̒͌̒̀̓͆̂͐͂͜͜͜͜͜͝͝ͅ ̵̧̧̺̦̥̱̠̠̘̹̬̗͎̟̪̭̰̩͇̰̜̬̼͕̱̝̪̓̀̄͋͗̑͂͛͛͘̚̚͘A̸̧̢̢̢̧̛̛̟͔͖̺͕̠̯̟̙̳̠̼̱͚̖̙̠̪̮͔̟̤̼̯̫̻͚̬̜͎̪̮̥͎̫͙̼̮͔͍̦͕̳͙͋̏͑̔̈̀͋̒͋͋͌̒̑͑̀͊͐̒̀͛̿̎͒͂͊̓͆̌̀̀͛͆́͒̒̕̚̚̚͜͝͠Ñ̶̨̧̞͕͕̬̺̘͕̞͈͉̼̮͚̱̩̗̣̲̞̙̘̤̰̘̭͕̝̥̮̮̪͔̞̻͕̲̦̭́̃̈́ͅY̵̡̧͚̻̗̫̦̭̥͖̥͎̱͔͍̪̜̼̻̣̻͚͇͕̜̠̱̭͊̋̆̒̋̂̎͂̈́̾́̏͆̑͗̽̌͛̇̏̈̌͆͝ͅO̷͇̤͕̯̖̰͙̝̹̎̓̉̾͠͝Ň̷̢̨̧̛̦̳͚͚͔̟̬̖̺͓͙͖̪̠͓͎̬͈̺̘͍͎̣͇̹̖͇̲̔̊̌̋̈́̄͒͊͋̿̍͆̓͗͌̆̎͑͜͜͜͠͝ͅͅE̶͇͖̖̗͍̲͖̖͈̋͂̐͂̌͛͗̂͐͂̓̑̃̄͛́͑̇̆͛͋͊̀͋̍̄͌̊͋̍̎̑̾̌͝͝

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Ļ̸̡̧̛̺̗̺̻̣̺̱͖̱͖͙͖̭̠͈̗̱̰̦̠̪̙̜͍͎̲̤̹͚̜̗̰̘̘̤̫̗̜͕̬̖̪̬̻́̅̉̐͑̋̈́͂̄͛̑͛̈͊̽͆̈̿̿̓̀̆̽́̐̈́͋͑̓̏̀̾̅̚̚̚͘͘͜͠͝È̶̛̛͚͎̖̳̲͕͓̩͎̦͉̻̆̑̇̒̋͂̆̊̑̇͐̃̑́̏̉́͛́̍̅̆̃͛̃̀̒̅̕̕͠͝͝ͅT̵̢̢̨̛̛̼͎̟̘͇̝͙͎̘̩̫̬͎͎̝͕̝͚̳̟͖̼̱̪̭͆̄͒͒̂͌̒̄̈́͌̀̈͑͋̇̅̍̎͂̾́̾̐̇͘͘͝͝͝ ̶̢̧̡̡̮̫̺̥̟̝̗͙̦̗͖̱̺̘̮̗̱͍͍̝̣͕͔͎̠̭̱̹͙̲̘̰̻̙͛̑͋̈̿͒̅̎͆́̈̒̓̉̒̽̌̈̾̿͆̍͗͑̂̃̔̌͂͆̓̂͛͋̈̿̇̚̕̚͜͝͠͝M̵̨̛̛̤̪̱̹̥̹͔͚̼̦̜͎͈̖͕̜̥̥͓̱̫̓̆͒̅̈́̈́̈̆̽́͆̔͋͐́̃̆̈́̀͆̍̈́̒̀̇̈̏͑͋͛͑̓͆̕͝͠͝͝Ë̸̢̡̬͔͖̲̮̬̞͔̦̻̬̱̝̣̩̙̯͈̲́̽̄͗̑͛̇͑̔͛̆̕͘͘͝͝͝͝ ̵̡̥͙̮͍̫̹͈͚̱̥̫̳̯̃̈́͌̾̇͒̄̆͜ͅĢ̵̨̢̧̡̱͈̟̼̮̮̰͔͍̞͖͙̘́̍́̍̊̉̆̂͆̒̃͆̚͝O̸̦̦̰͊̀̐̒.̶̢̨̨̡̨̨̛̖̣̙̺͖͕̱̻̬̞̰̦͈̻͙͔̦͈̦̤͖͓̫͍̪̝̟͕̝͈͖̻͖͈̩̃̅͊͊͊͋̎̅̎͒̅̋́̓̀́̋̐͛͋̓̃͊͛̀̒͒̉̂̓̈̈́͘̕̕͜͠͠͝

P̵̡̢̧̛̝͔͚͇̲͙̤͕̳͈̪͉̤͚̲̜̼̳̠͎̖̹̣̺͈̤͎̞̣̪͚̗̝̪̼̱̟̱̜̯͚͐͗̌͊̇̀͂̍̾̏̐̈̾͛̾̀̈́́̌͋̀̆̒̓̐̉̌̀͊͊̒̉͂̏̎̓̓̑̽̽̚̕̚̚͜͜ͅͅͅL̷̡̛̻̯̜͉̪̦̠̫͈̹͓͔̭̙̹͍̥̮͖̘͎̼̱̤̝̰̥̫̤̝̩͓̫͇̘̼̘̗͕̯̗̞̰͔̃̓̓̅͆͗͐̈́͑̽͒̑̇̃̈̅̿͊͑̋̑̿̑̈́̆̈͆̈́̂̀̋̑͛̆̈́̕͜͜͝͠͝E̸̢̢̨̛̛̛͉̗̘̲̫͇̘̫̞̝̠̞̺͎̳͚̜͎͕̪̹͈̭͖̼͙̮̳̪͖̱̗̼̬͓̳̺̻͖̳͇̐̈̑̀̊̅̀̈́̔̌̈́̈̔̾̔̓̉̕Ḁ̴̢͇̰̰̼̰̔͆̈́͌̐̆̓̒̍̾̔̂̈́̌̔̋͋̎̎̓͌̾̐̋̈͋̆̐̑̑̀̋̓̔͘͝S̵̢̛͈̙̹̪̲̟̯̮͎͈͖͕̖̰͔̫̱̬͎̹͈͖̤̫̝̹̼̰͐̓̿̏̑͛̇̈́͌̽̑̏͆̎̓̍͒̇̿̈̍͑̊̐̓̐̏̓̀͌̂͐̈́̈́̇͛̾̚͘͘͜͜͝͝ͅȄ̷̡̢̧͉͍̣̯͔̜̗̤͇̤͍̣͉͙̬̣̥̪͈̘̣̰̳̞̜̟̹͚̖̣̗̰̟̏͐̽͂̅̂͊̌̑̌̍̈͋͆̈́̂͒̾̌̐̂̒̋̉̒̉̈̕͜͝͝ͅͅ

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·̴̨͇̪͂̏͗̍̿̑͛̏̐̊

L̵̢̡̛̻͔̥̲͇̮͓̖̣͕̳̙̘̬̠̠̟̞̺͍̜̥̦̘͖͈͖̻̩̀̔͋͋͌͋̂́͋͋̌̐͐͋̾̄̓̍͗̉̕̚͝͠͝ͅĘ̶̛͎̰̯̝̩̳̞̞̰̦͍̦͔͉̼̯͔̬͙̰̣̣̜͉͍̏̅̄̎̎̃͒͂̈́̆͛͑̀̓̎̎̓̎̈́̿̊͆̈́̋̚̕͝͝͠͝͝T̶̡̡̧̡̛̛̛̮͔͇̯̥̺̞̳͎͉̱͈̱̞̮̔̔̀̆͑͋̍̑̉̓͐͐͒͑̊́͂͌̉̉͆̉̀̓̉̀̒͂̾̐̒͌̏͊̂͘̚͜͜͝ ̶̨̢̡̲̗̮̝̜͓̤̜̦̫͇̤̭̼͉̱͓̙̯͖̯̜̗̫͇̱̼̻̼̥̓͂͗͆̉̏̋̀̐̔̋́̎͛̈́́͂̇͊̓̈́̋̀̄̀̚͜͜M̵̨̡̧̢̡̨̧̢̧̢̫̭͇̼̜͉͈̫̟͖̱͙̜̣̭͈͉͛̈́̅͌̐̅̍͋ͅE̸̡̲̹̼͕͚̬̩̟̬̞͎͖̗̠̻̽̃͋̈́̐̄̇̔̎̇̆̑͐͂̑͌̈́̂͆̉̍̾̀̈́̓̈́͛͐͊͛́̈́͊̌̋͐͘͜͝ͅ ̷̢̧̨̡̘͍̞͎͚̲̲̻̲̘̪̲͇͚̞̗͕͚̳̺̩̞̙̤̝̳̯̻̆̋̃͑̉̆̎̄̎̑̐̓͋̐͆̍̇̏́̉̈́̍͊͜͠͝ͅͅG̶̨̧̢̢̧̛̛̘̩̻͚̻͎̤͕͙̪̼̮̮͇̰̗̪̳̱̒̎̐́͆̑̆̿̂̾͆̀̾̔̑͆̇̊̾̄͒̕͘͘O̴̧̧̠̞̟͉͕͖̘̯͙̳̗̝̝͂̾̒͂̆̏͛̏̆̿̓̂̄̅̍́͛́͊͆̇̀̌͗̀̾̄̃̈́͑̎̐̚̕̕͠͝͝͠͝

S̸̹̱̹͍̪͓̤͖̰̜̐̍̉̄͋̚p̶̧̟̮͇͉̺̲̒ă̴̢̨̢̡̛̹͔̣̻̥̖̮͍̘̫̫̮͍̰̣̜̩͈̟̫͉͕͙̣͚͙̱͍̾̽́͒́̽̉́͛̊͛̔̎̋̈̂̓̋̀̓̈́̓̅́͌̚̕̚͜͜͝͝͝͠w̸̺͙̪̥̫̲͔̯̐̒ņ̶̢͔̫̤̲͍̖̠̟͔̬̞̪͖͉̞̬̱̝͍͚̳̬̯̼͊̐̀̍̍́͆̃͆̉̓̈́̓̊̍̐̉̚͘͘͝͝͝͠ͅ ̵̘͔̜̤̳̮͕͖̭̟̤̝̫̬̭͔̺̺͎̲̭͖͖̻͛̾ͅf̵̡̢̢̢̝̖͓͔̠͖͙͕̤͎̣̬̼͎͎̞̠̘̘͉̀̔͆̊̃̅̓́̒͝ͅo̷̢̧̩̣͇͈͍̭͈̮͍̼̱̗̰͚̻͉̐̒̈́͛̿̃͛̀͑̍̍̍͆͊̊̅͐͗͘͠͝͝ͅr̵̨̛͖͔̤̠̫̙̣̿͛̏̂͛̾̽̓͛́̓̇̋̍̆́̈̅͂̂̾͗̃̈́̇͗͆̅̉̉̚̚͠͝͝ͅg̶̡̛̛̼̘̫̞͍͚̹̰̬̈̈́̿́̾̓͑̀̔͆̈́͛͒̎͗̍͌̾̈̄̂̉́̕̕̕̚̕͜͠͠į̵̧̨̢͔̯̻̥̫͉͉͉̤̫͖͚͉̞͚͖̟̪̤͕̟͎̫̊̒̽̽̇̿̌̈͜͜ͅv̶͕̦̺̯̙͚̺̮̺̖̲̩̺̟̦͚̩̝̩̤̮̦͚̹̻͍̠̋̒̓̈́̉̇̾͆̂͂̎͑̐̆̒̎́͗̒̓̏̽̚͜͜͜͜ͅe̶̡̡̡̖͙̬̤̙͕̖͍̯͕̗̤̤̱͇͈̼͖͊̾ͅͅͅ ̷̳̼͎͍̥̥͚͎̈́̀͌̓͐̉̌̔̄̎͗̆̚̚͘͝m̷̛̞̼̗͚̻͂̌̐̀̅̒̀̀̈́͊̃̽͗͋͗͑̔̄̚͘͘͠ͅe̷̢̧̛̛͍̠̗̺̭̠͑̂͗̈́̒̆͗͛̒̽͂̓͑̅̑̅͂͌̿̊̓͆̕͘͠͝͠

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₱̷̡͓̪̖̯͈̘̟̱͙̦̲̯͍̞̻͕̰̰͔͈͖͓̦͔͂͛̀͋̾̓͆̔̈́͌͑̀̐͌̓́͛̿̅̍̇̎̇͛̈́̋͐͊̆͘̚͘͝͝͝͝͝Ⱡ̶̛̜̺̼̐́̑͐̑̐̿̊̀̊̇̒̒͂̾͋́̆͘̚͝͝͝ͅɆ̸̢̨̩̹̟̟̜̘̝͍̝̼͇̗̟̰̣̻͇͚̲̲͉͔̗͙̮͕̦̳͈͎̪̍̌͐͊̆͌̽̇̈̏̽͛͗̇̀͋̓̉͒́̕̚̕̕͘͜͝ͅ₳̷̡͖̬͚̰͉̹͖̦͓̼̩̤̭̻̥̥͍͇̰̣͚̮͈̪̰͖̖̗͈͙̻̈́̄̃̈́͂̏̈́̉̆͊̀̈́̚₴̶̧̧̢̞̲̰̺̘̩̹̼͎͖͎̱͔̝̬̜̞̳͈̱̙͎͖̟̆̀́̈́͛͋̀́̋̕͜ͅɆ̴̧̨̢̛͖͚̰̘̱̲̜̤̺͓̼͈̖̘̤͚͎̑̑͊͆͂̈́̀̀͐̋͑̃̀͐̓̈́̓͒̆̉͋̓̓̌̃̆́̀̈́̌̕̚͘͜͠ͅͅ

\/\/hy n∅t?͓̽

‘‘⏙⌾☊⟄ℇ☈🜅⌰⎾¡! ⍦⌾⌰'⎾⎾ ⏙⍲⏧ℇ ⌰⍴ ⍑ℍℇ☈ℇ ⎎ℍ⌾☈⍑⎾⍦• ⍑☈⍦ ☊⌾⍑ ⍑⌾ ⅁ℇ⍑ ⟟☊⍑⌾ ⍑⌾⌾ ⍓⍲☊⍦ 🜅⟟⅁ℍ⍑⎎, ⏙⟟⎾⎾ ⍦⌾⌰¿’’
(Wonderful! You'll wake up there shortly. Try not to get into too many fights, will you?)

Chapter Text

Falling.

Falling?

Limbs misplaced, again... Only this time, they were actually there.

They sat up, opening their eyes.

They were laid on a green couch, a rather damaged one at that, with a.. small red child in their lap. They didn't like kids, too brutally honest for their taste. This one was definitely going to be a pain.

"Mister-mis5us 1x!!!!! M1ster-missus 1x!!!! They're aw4ke!!!!!!! Mister-m1ssus 1x!!!! Mis7er-missus 1x!!!!!!!!!! Th3y're star1ng!!!!! M1ster-missus 1x!!!!!!! C0me quick!!!!!!!!"

Hyperactive, definitely.

Where were they? Who was this ‘Mister-missus 1x’? The childs caregiver? What was this place?

A green and black being walked through the entrance, which looked like just a place where the door was torn of its hinges and never fixed. This whole place looked like something torn off the hinges.

"1 C4N 533 7H47, C00LK1DD."

This ‘Mister-missus 1x’ seemed rather tired of this child's antics. Who names their child C00lkidd? Setting it up for failure, surely.

The ‘Mister-missus 1x’ approached the two of them, and picked up C00lkidd from their lap, putting him on top of her shoulders. The child giggled and started playing with her hair.

"50? WH47'5 Y0UR N4M3, N3WC0M3R?"

‘Mister-missus 1x’ asked them, seemingly uncaring for the fact his hair was actively being chewed on by a red demon child.

They couldn't remember the correct answer. For whatever reason, their mind gave them two options. Wasn't a person only to have one name? Whatever, they chose the nicer sounding one.

"A̸m̷a̴r̷i̸s̷?̶"

It sounded like a question, mainly because it was. The other option was 'Two time', which sounded rather stupid. Who was naming these people? Did they all have stupid names?

"C00L. W3LL, 1 455UM3 Y0U D0N'7 KN0W 7H15 PL4C3, 50 45 7H3 0NLY H4LF-C0MP4T3N7 P3R50N H3R3, 1'LL 3XPL41N."

[One very informative explanation later that just so happened to leave out the fact they'd be murdering the people here (can't say that around C00lkidd...)]

This all was.. very confusing.

They were properly sitting up now, however properly would count what with them not being used to this body. 1x1x1x1 was sitting opposite of them, C00lkidd still messing around with her hair from where he was situated next to them on the arm of the chair. What with the condition of the arm of the chair, they could assume this was normal.

Another had joined them during the explanation, Noli. It was.. loud and glitchy. And dishonest apparently, 1x1x1x1 had said to take anything it said with a grain of salt the moment it walked into the room. Which it then reacted to rather theatrically. Which made sense at least, it's face was a Comedy and Tragedy mask after all.

One had walked by after Noli came in, but completely ignored whatever was going on. 1x1x1x1 said his name was John doe, and to not bother trying to talk to him. Apparently he couldn't speak well unless dressed certainly, weirdly enough. They stopped questioning things when 1x1x1x1 told them about the 'rounds' though.

1x1x1x1 told them about the others that hadn't walked by or barged in.

Guest 666 was kept outside, apparently she didn't fit in the house well. They could only imagine how big she could be.

Slasher was mute, so they really shouldn't expect and verbal responses. He did know sign language though, so if they knew it they could talk to him that way. They couldn't remember if they did.

Azure stayed in his room, but 1x1x1x1 said he was probably one of the few other people here who could think properly, so if they wanted to actually talk to anyone who wasn't annoying as fuck or just couldn't say anything back he would apparently be the next best decision. Their body reacted to the name, wings flaring up and tail proceeding to wag so fast it ripped the couch, but they didn't recognize it.

1x1x1x1 didn't react well when they didn't have any idea why their body reacted to a name they had never heard before.

C00lkidd led them to their room, which had their nameplate. However the hell that was possible they weren't sure. They just knew this place was weird.

Chapter Text

Two time was in their room often, it wasn't uncommon for them stay there between multiple rounds in a row without leaving once. But this time, they hadn't been in the round either.

It worried Noob.

So they decided to check up on Two time! They usually answered the door, especially when Noob said it was them.

They knocked and waited.

... And waited.

After a little while waiting by the door, they knocked again.

"Two time? It's me, Noob! Just checking on you.."

So they waited.. again.

After a little while, they tried the doorknob.

Locked.

They sighed, and decided to try one more time. They knew of Two times.. 'habit', and that they wouldn't dare answer the door during it, so they assumed it was that.

"Two time, please. If you don't answer, I'm gonna come in."

Two time had given Noob a key awhile ago, as a show of their trust. Noob was the only one that had full permission to enter their room without asking them first. They took pride in that fact.

After waiting for another minute or two, Noob fished the key out of one of their pockets.
Their hands shook as they unlocked the door for some reason. Maybe because they never liked walking in on what they assumed Two time was doing, though it was necessary.

Noob knew Two time got lost in things only they could hear, so sometimes they wouldn't hear them calling out from the other side of the door. They'd just unlock the door, help Two time, maybe bring them a cup of water if they felt up to drinking it, and it'd be fine.

They didn't know why they were so nervous.

They turned the knob and pushed open the door.

And screamed.

They covered their mouth in shock and backed away until they were pressed up against the hallway wall opposite of Two time room. Tears gathered almost instantly, pooling on their hands before falling down. They slid down the wall, legs giving out.

Yet they couldn't look away.

Elliot rushed up the stairs at the sound of Noob screaming, Guest 1337 trailed behind him.

Chance glanced up the stairs, worried eyes hidden behind their glasses, before turning around and joking there was a spider to Builderman. Builderman was unamused but honestly wouldn't have been surprised if it was. Shedletsky laughed at Chances remark, but quickly stopped when he saw Builderman glaring at him.

Elliot went to Noobs side, offering a comforting hand on their shoulder before looking over to see the cause. He assumed it was a bug or something.

He assumed wrong.

Elliot gasped and covered his mouth with one hand, eyes widening and the hand on Noobs shoulder squeezing for a moment too long to be comforting.

Guest 1337 flinched and looked away, closing his eyes tightly. He sighed and crouched down in front of Noob, blocking their sight of Two time. He looked at them for a long moment before hugging them.

The door was closed by no one, and the nameplate melted off.

Chapter Text

Amaris hadn't slept, not at all. They couldn't remember anything and that kept them up... And maybe odd whispers, but they assumed someone was just speaking in another room.

They knew they were missing something. Someone.
They just couldn't figure out what and who.

They pushed open their door, deciding if sleep so evaded them they wouldn't try. Maybe someone was still up.

They trailed down the stairs carefully, not yet used to this specific flight. No one was in the living room, figured. They hovered by the bottom of the stairs for a little before moving onto the kitchen.

There was actually someone in there, drinking from a chipped mug that looked glued together. This person looked rather.. emo? That was the right word they believed. This person was wearing only black and purple, though their hat was nice. It was like a witches hat.

The person glanced up at the sound of their footsteps, looking a tad bit irritated. Did they want to be alone?

·
·
·

Probably, the person didn't look any happier to see them. To be fair, they didn't believe they had met before. They waved.

That was apparently the wrong thing to do, as the person literally threw the cup into the wall, which was likely a common occurrence seeing as how it was glued together previously. They blinked and they were pinned to the floor by (I DON'T FUCKING KNOW IF THEYRE TENTACLES OR VINES AUUGGHHH).

The person stalked closer and they just kind of laid there. They didn't know what to do, they didn't know this person.

"TRAITOR. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

They were.. confused. To say the least. They didn't remember ever even meeting this person, why would they be a traitor?

"P̴a̶r̷d̸o̸n̵?̷ ̵W̴h̶o̶ ̸a̴r̸e̷ ̶y̵o̶u̷?̴"

The question made the other person stop for a moment. Had they been mistaken for someone else? While is wasn't like it was impossible, it was odd. Especially considering they didn't look like an average person, or like a mutated version of the average person... Probably. What did the average person look like?

The person only stopped for a moment though.

"WHAT? DON'T RECOGNIZE ME ANYMORE?"

They were so, so confused. This place was just confusing in general. A nameplate on a door for them, despite them not even having been there 20 minutes when they saw it. The fact they couldn't remember anything from before this, even from the moment they had gotten there. The seemingly monstrous people here, not even mentioning the Names. Those weird 'rounds' 1x1x1x1 described. And now a person they had never even seen before calling them a traitor? There was something so very wrong with this place.

They wondered if this person was someone they knew before this whole mess, but that was unlikely.

"I̷ ̶d̴o̵n̷'̵t̵ ̵t̵h̵i̸n̶k̸ ̷I̸'̷v̵e̵ ̶m̵e̵t̸ ̶y̴o̸u̷ ̵b̶e̶f̸o̸r̸e̴,̶ ̶a̸p̴o̸l̴o̸g̵i̴e̸s̷.̴"

The person paused again, but this time the (TENTACLES, VINES, WHATEVER THE FUCK THEY ARE) retreated. The person seemed to have accepted this, though clearly still skeptical.

".. HM. SORRY THEN, I.. THOUGHT YOU WERE SOMEONE ELSE."

They stood up and brushed themself off, face a little soured. Those floors were filthy, dear Spawn... They just nodded and went back upstairs, deciding listening to faint whispers in the dark was better then dealing with the mess that was.

They were not storming off after being attacked for no reason.. just making a tactical retreat that just so happened to involve screaming into a pillow and throwing said pillow across their room at the end. Not storming off, technically.