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The faint sound of pulleys and a motor running was droning on and on, reminding Spamton of a mosquito just out of reach.
The Rudinn guards were on either side of him. Surprisingly, one of them seemed as nervous as he felt.
A small ding sounded and the elevator doors opened. One guard, the braver of the two, grabbed Spamton by the shoulder and shoved him out of the surprisingly spacious elevator.
Spamton’s glossy black loafers clacked against the smooth stone floor.
He swallowed as he saw the winding staircase before him. The Rudinn guards nudged him forward, almost causing him to fall down the steps.
He stumbled to regain his balance, and began walking carefully down the dizzying stairs.
The guards behind him, barely more than shadows in his field of vision, were close enough for Spamton to feel uncomfortable.
They walked for what felt like an hour, until the bottom of the staircase came to view. Oddly enough, there was one cell. A large cell, but still only one.
“I must be quite the criminal for getting my own cell at the bottom of nowhere, hm?” Spamton joked.
The guards didn't answer, and Spamton awkwardly cleared his throat.
He could barely see the steps beneath his feet as the only light source was a few candles along the dark wall.
Once at the bottom, one guard held onto Spamton's shoulder as the other slowly unlocked the cell. Inside was dark, and Spamton squinted to see into it, but he couldn't make out anything.
He saw the guard's darting eyes, from the cell to the stairs, as he began tapping a finger against Spamton's shoulder. Spamton didn't know what was making him so nervous. It's not like anyone would be intimidated by him now.
The guard tightened his grip, muttering “Hurry up, hurry up…” until the older and less nervous guard motioned to the guard by Spamton.
The guard sighed before shoving Spamton in, locking the door behind him.
Spamton fell to his knees inside the cell, flinching away from the slam.
He turned to the cell bars, wrapping his hand around the metal. The door seemed to have disappeared without any proof of its existence.
The guards made their way up the stairs, muttering to each other, not caring that Spamton could hear them.
“We risk our lives going down here, and now some schmuck from the Cyber World is gonna be staying down here too? It makes no sense.”
“How long are you betting?
“Before he's killed or goes insane?”
One of the guards chuckled. “Either.”
Spamton growled. Kneeling on the floor, he checked the shoulder the guard clasped for any bruising. It hurt, and Spamton wasn't used to pain in his cushy Big Shot life, but he could bear it. Spamton sighed. That was a life he missed.
Trying to clear his head, he rotated his arm, hoping the soreness would go away. He wondered about what the guards said, before hearing an echoing laugh deep within the cell.
“Ueeheehee! A visitor, visitor?”
Spamton looked around, confused. “Hello? Is there someone else here?”
Spamton blinked, and suddenly a man was standing over him. He scrambled backwards as the man cocked his head to the side.
He was unlike anything Spamton had seen in all of Cyber World. With a plump body and elf-like ears, his skin was a dusty shade of a bluish-purple. He wore odd clothes: a purple and black jester's hat, a black cape, and he had bright green hooves, much like a satyr of some kind.
Spamton blinked a few times, wondering why he was sharing a cell with someone who may not have been wrongfully imprisoned like himself.
The man, or jester, given his confusing attire, looked from Spamton to the cell bars, then back to Spamton.
“No,” the jester said, his voice still somehow sounding distant, “Not a visitor. A new guest to play with! Welcome to Outside!”
The jester clapped his hands together and laughed.
He slowly walked around Spamton and looked him up and down, like he was sizing him up. Spamton saw that the jester's cloven hooves seemed to shine in the darkness, casting a soft green light on the metal floor of the cell.
Spamton shot to his feet, and the jester stopped circling him.
“Play?” Spamton asked cautiously. The jester nodded eagerly, then took a big, sweeping bow, his cape somehow gently blowing in a wind that didn't exist, looking up at Spamton with a large, yellow, sharp-toothed grin.
Something about his smile was just… wrong. Uncanny, almost.
“Most call me Jevil, Jevil!”
Spamton adjusted his lapels and cleared his throat. He had no reason to be afraid of him. He probably isn't supposed to be here either.
“Well, Mr Jevil-Jevil, I’m Spamton G. Spamton!” he said with a grin and an outstretched hand.
The jester’s smile fell, his yellow pupils slowly fading into his black sclera.
Spamton slowly pulled his hand back. “Are… are you alri-?”
The jester began laughing so hard he fell over, floating just a few inches off the ground.
“Oh, how I like you, Spamton G. Spamton!” He cackled, wiping a tear from his eye which had a yellow pupil again, “But my name is simply Jevil.”
Jevil flipped onto his stomach, still just barely in the air, and looked at Spamton's red suit.
“What fancy attire you're wearing, wearing! Why is that?”
Spamton couldn't help but stare as Jevil lowered himself back onto the ground until his hooves touched the floor. He'd never known of a Darkner that could float.
“Oh, I-I'm a salesman!” Spamton explained, holding onto his lapels. Something about this Jevil figure made him nervous.
“And how did a salesman, salesman end up here?”
Spamton rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't know how he didn't see this question coming.
“I, um… It's a long story,” Spamton chuckled, hoping that would deter the jester.
Jevil responded by sitting cross-legged on the floor, blinking up at him with a surprisingly patient smile.
Spamton sighed. “I used to be a Big Shot, y'know. But business went… south, and I couldn't pay my bills. I found a way to become Big again, but the doors were closed on me. So I impersonated people and even tried to get involved with rebels to get in. Queen found out and banished me here, asking someone, I’m guessing your king, to lock me up...”
Spamton was about to explain further, but then he shivered, the dark memories being brought back and shared with a stranger made him feel a little sick, so he decided against it.
“Could've been worse,” he quickly added, closing his eyes and holding out one hand to feign his old Addison confidence. “At least she didn't throw me in her acid pool!”
Jevil was silent, before saying, “Impersonation? That's all?”
Spamton slowly opened his eyes. “What do you mean? Wha- what were you locked up for?”
Jevil’s grin, somehow, grew unnaturally larger. “I’m not imprisoned, little salesman,” Jevil's purple, forked tongue ran over his lips, making Spamton recoil slightly. “We are the only two truly free! The kings were foolish enough to lock up the world and leave us free, free!”
Spamton stared at him for a moment, taking in the insanity. “A-ah. I see. Then why did everyone… lock themselves up?”
Jevil sighed and shrugged. “I simply wanted to play a game, but the Kings grew angry with the rules and blamed me! But I'm fast, fast! Clever, clever! They never could've imprisoned my body!” He threw his arms wide and Spamton had to take a step back to not get hit. Spamton looked back at the no-longer-existent door, pleading for it to reappear. When it didn't, Spamton resigned to his curiosity. “What was the game?”
Jevil stared at Spamton with a large grin, before beginning to laugh. He stumbled backwards and kept laughing, like he found the question to be the funniest thing ever. Tears began to run down his face; thick, black, tar-like tears.
Spamton watched him confused and a tad afraid, before Jevil's head sprang from his neck.
He heard the sound of a spring uncoiling as Jevil stretched out towards him, his head unnaturally far from his body.
“Would you like to play?” Jevil asked, his voice melodic but not quite sing-song.
Every part of Spamton's mind screamed at him to say no, but before he could, Jevil held a finger up to his lips. “You've come too far. Your choice has run out!”
Spamton raised an eyebrow, still trying to play it cool. “What are you saying?”
“My hearts go out to you, poor sinner!” Jevil giggled, holding his hand up.
Hundreds of glowing hearts appeared, spinning lazily in the air.
Spamton shrunk back. “Jevil, what are you-”
Jevil clenched his fist.
The hearts launched at Spamton, and he ran.
His legs could barely carry him as the hearts just barely missed him, exploding into smoke against the ground.
He made the mistake of looking back, and a heart slashed against his arm, scratching through his sleeve, causing him to fall. Dark green blood began to seep through the fabric. A horrible stinging deep within his arm made it writhe until he grabbed it and held it still. Touching a hand to his wound and wincing, Spamton stared at the blood on his fingers in shock and confusion.
It hurt.
It hurt so much. Spamton couldn't imagine such physical pain being possible.
His eyes darted up to the jester, who was now in the air, easily 30 feet off the ground, higher than Spamton thought the ceiling was, and was glaring down at him with that twisted grin.
Spamton clawed at the ground, trying to run away, but his legs weren't responding to him.
The metal flooring of the cell was rough, but somehow Spamton still wasn't able to grip anything.
“Piip Piip, let's ride the carousel game!” Jevil called from above.
Spamton's legs finally began to follow him, but just barely too late. Spamton let out a surprised “Gah!” as a large white creature knocked him off his feet. He blinked, letting him ground himself in the situation. He was on the back of a white horse. It didn't feel real, instead feeling more like plastic, and had wings propelling it forward. Spamton could barely hear Jevil's laugh over the rush of the wind.
The plastic pegasus was hurling towards the bars of the cell.
Spamton, without thinking, jumped off.
He didn't realize how high up he was until he was free-falling for about 2 seconds. The world slowed down around him as he fell, just able to turn to land on his back. He caught a glance of the jester, who was still above him, jumping and laughing. His laugh sounded like a broken record, repeating itself in the same way every time.
Spamton hit the ground hard. He panted and was just able to open his eyes quickly enough to roll out of the way of the large oncoming spades.
They crashed into the ground, splintering like glass where he once lay. A shard, still shaped like a spade, stabbed into Spamton's leg. Sharp pain hit him, starting thin before spreading rapidly.
Spamton stumbled and fell, staring at the spade stuck in his leg. He looked up to see Jevil doing an odd sort of dance. Jumping back and forth, kicking his legs like there was music only he could hear, and alternating having his left arm, then right arm, hidden in his cape.
Spamton took this time to jerk the spade out of his leg. His teeth began to grind together so hard he thought they would break. His head began to feel light with the sight of the dark green blood beginning to pour out of the deep gash in his leg.
Holding the shard of spade tight in his hand, he sliced it down his lapel and tied the fabric around the wound.
“You are really keeping up, salesman!” Jevil's distant voice echoed through the cell.
Spamton’s jaw hurt from how tight it was clenched, before he looked up and saw Jevil standing over him. Spamton fell backwards, before trying to kick Jevil with his healthy leg. Jevil just spun out of the way like he thought this was all an odd sort of dance.
“In fact, I haven't seen anyone keep up quite like you! At least you're having fun!” He giggled.
He threw his cape over his shoulder, pulling out his arm, which was shrouded in darkness, holding onto a giant scythe, sharp yellow diamonds jutting out of the blade like golden teeth. “Bye-bye!”
Spamton began running again just before he heard the scythe cut through the air where he stood just a moment ago.
“Look, look! Even Devilsknife is smiling!”
Spamton quickly glanced over his shoulder to see Jevil holding the scythe, or the supposed Devilsknife, up, covering part of his face, before throwing it at Spamton.
It whirled through the air like a boomerang.
Jevil snapped and multiple Devilsknives broke off from the original scythe.
Spamton ducked as one sliced low, so close to Spamton's head that he felt it lightly graze his scalp. He saw another fly close to him, tearing through the air low to the ground, forcing Spamton to jump over it. Spamton landed on his injured leg and let out a scream of pain.
The third and fourth came from opposite directions, causing Spamton, who was still crumpled on the floor due to his leg, to have to think quickly. He dropped down onto his stomach as the two scythes flew over him. He crawled on his stomach to get away as the clash of the two scythes caused sparks raining down on him.
He carefully stood back up as the Devilsknives disappeared, and heard Jevil let out another horrible laugh from above him.
Spamton growled, glaring up at Jevil, before beginning to run again as best as he could.
“The true and Neo CHAOS!” Jevil cried.
Spamton froze. Neo? He couldn't place why that word sounded so familiar.
Spamton realized he was standing still for too long, but before his body could move, he saw a small spade, the same size as the shard that was stuck in his leg, quickly dart past. It just barely missed his cheek.
He quickly turned to see the spades exiting from Jevil's mouth. Not like he was spitting them; more like he was letting them escape his mouth.
“A chaos, chaos, ueeheehee!”
He continued to shoot the spades aimlessly, but they had such a wide range that it didn't matter. Spamton knew he'd get hit sooner or later.
Despite being aware of this, Spamton would never admit defeat aloud. He began to run again.
No matter how fast he'd run, he didn't seem to be getting any further. He paused for a second to realize that the room itself was spinning, bringing Spamton closer to the jaws of the jester.
It felt like the cell itself was alive and wanted Spamton to die an agonizing death.
Spamton felt sick as he continued to run, hoping to run faster as the floor was spinning, but all he could do was hope for a miracle.
Just as Spamton felt like he was getting somewhere, diamonds shot out of the ground behind Spamton, and turned sideways, flying point-first at Spamton as Jevil summoned more razor-like hearts.
“Hearts, Diamonds, what can't you do?” Spamton muttered to himself, feeling as annoyed as he was terrified for his life.
“What can't I do?!” He heard Jevil burst out laughing from above, “Oh, Spamton,
I CAN DO ANYTHING.”
Spamton growled, then stopped as he thought of something stupid. He tried to ignore it, but he decided that if he had never done something stupid, he would never have been Big.
He shook his arms and stomped each of his feet, trying to make sure his body would respond to him this time. If it didn't… he didn't want to imagine what would happen.
Spamton began to leap on top of the diamonds, ignoring how the sharp edges dug into his shoes, and focused on how the diamond slowly rose up, only a few feet away from Jevil.
He ran and jumped from one to the other until he was almost close enough to the jester. Spamton began to shake as the diamonds stabbed through his shoes and into his feet.
He heard the hearts hit the cell bars, and heard the wind rushing backwards towards him.
He leapt into the air, the explosion from behind him echoing through the cell and pushing Spamton ever so slightly closer towards the jester.
He flew through the air, his hands desperately scrabbling for anything to hold onto.
He was able to just wrap his fingers around Jevil's tail, which caught Jevil off guard, making him slip through the air ever so slightly.
“I’m not gonna just roll over and die!” Spamton yelled.
Jevil winced in pain and his tail began to sway due to the extra weight. He quickly hid the pain, but Spamton saw the split second of weakness.
“Why, Spamton, Spamton! Are you not having fun?” Jevil grinned as his head sprung towards Spamton.
“No!” Spamton felt the wind sting his cheeks and tears began to form.
Jevil's smile slowly fell as Spamton yelled as loudly as he could, his voice cracked with emotion. “Jevil, stop!”
Jevil’s pupils disappeared as he frowned.
Jevil's tail began to lash, shaking Spamton off.
Spamton began to fall.
Spamton twisted through the air, falling longer than he expected. With his position, he was going to land on his back. His spine would break.
He writhed as if that would slow the fall. He felt tears slowly fly away.
After all that running, he was going to die. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Jevil, Spamton thought as the ground drew closer, go to hell.
He felt something wrap around him, catching him bridal style. It was a surprisingly strong grip, almost comforting. Comfort he hadn't felt in years.
He cracked his eyes open to see Jevil holding onto him and gently floating to the ground. Jevil's black eyes were locked with his.
“What are you-? Le-let go of me!” Spamton thrashed against Jevil's grip. Jevil opened his arms, dropping him. Luckily enough, he was only about three feet off of the ground. Spamton landed on his back with a harsh thud. He groaned and sat up. Jevil was crouched next to him, and his forked tongue ever so slightly sticking out, reminding Spamton of a cat.
A cruel, sadistic cat.
Spamton pushed Jevil away and scrambled backwards. “What is wrong with you?! I could've died!”
Jevil cocked his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? That was not fun for you?”
Spamton stared at him, dumbfounded. “No!”
Jevil sighed disappointedly and stood up, his arms disappearing into his cape.
“Oh well. I suppose I need another player who's up for the task.”
He grinned, his yellow teeth glittering. “At least you aren't a sore loser! Most are, and they will play until they can't…”
He pulled out his scythe, and ran a hand down the blade, causing Spamton to shudder.
“You're insane,” Spamton grimaced.
“And you're no fun,” Jevil stuck his tongue out in a mocking manner.
Spamton sat in silence for a second, and Jevil began to walk away until he heard Spamton laugh.
“Heh. Hehehe… Eahahahaha!” Spamton slapped his hand against his forehead.
“Wait, wait, wait. All this, ALL THIS, was just a game to you? You're an absolute lunatic! You've-” Spamton paused. His hands slowly fell to his side. His expression shifted into something completely serious.
“So, you've killed before? What did that… feel like?” He couldn't help his genuine curiosity.
“Killed?” Jevil turned around with wide, innocent eyes. “I'd never kill, kill! I just watch as the player’s HP drops to zero~!” He laughed, his head springing out and swaying back and forth.
Spamton breathed out slowly, trying to keep his temper. “Okay, what does that feel like, then?”
“Ah, such questions, Seam. You always were the apathetic one, weren't you?” Jevil chuckled to himself, sounding oddly sane for a second.
Spamton suddenly felt colder. “Seam? Who's Seam?”
Jevil turned back to face Spamton. “Why, you aren't-”
His smile fell. Spamton took a step back. Jevil's yellow pupils expanded into view again. “HaHA! Oh, my apologies, little Spamton. I must've lost my place in memory. You asked what depleting someone's HP felt like, yes?”
Spamton nodded cautiously.
“Why? Would you like to try…?”
Jevil held out the Devilsknife and smiled, drumming his gloved fingers on its hilt.
Spamton thought for a minute, his hand hesitating above the weapon. He couldn't tell if Jevil was actually offering it or if this was another trick.
But then something came to mind, his mistrust of Jevil temporarily forgotten.
“You know, Jevil, I happen to know someone who loves games. He's pretty good at them, too,” Spamton said, turning away from Jevil and trying to seem nonchalant. “Maybe we could pay him a visit if we ever get out of here.”
He could hear Jevil approach and felt him rest his chin on Spamton's shoulder. Spamton almost recoiled out of instinct, but instead he let Jevil be. He needed Jevil to trust him for this.
“And who would that be, be?” Jevil couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice even if he wanted to.
Spamton shrugged and tried to hide his grin. “Oh, no one you'd know. He's nothing special, really.
Just an old business partner of mine.”