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“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Builder.”
Jane Doe sat down inside a booth at one of many Builder Brother’s Pizza locations. The air still held the smell of dough and cheese despite the place being closed for the night, and the fluorescent lights above leaked into the parking lot outside. The wooden floors were free of any sauce or spills, and the windows were crystal clear. Inside the corner of one laid a missing poster, asking for any sightings of Elliot Builder to be reported immediately.
“It’s no trouble at all. If there’s anything you can do for my son…” The time spent parted from Elliot had not treated Mr. Builder well. Dark circles laid underneath his eyes as he stared at her, and his suit was crumpled as if he had hastily thrown it on.
Jane took out a notepad and flipped to a fresh page. She had one notepad for every missing person she was investigating, something that weighed her bag down by quite a lot but helped with sorting information. “Describe Elliot’s daily routine to me.”
“He had his own house and would wake up at around seven. At ten he would leave so he could prepare Builder Brother’s for opening, and at eleven business would began. He took a wide variety of jobs, but his favorite was delivery. He’d have a lunch break from one that lasted about forty-five minutes, and then it would be back to work until five, when he would hand it off to another manager.” Mr. Builder frowned, a heaviness coming over his face. “We always told him to take it easier. The understaffing wasn’t his fault; he didn’t need to stretch himself so thin, but Elliot wouldn’t hear a word of it. He smiled and told me that he’d make sure to slow down a bit, but he never did.”
It was clear that he was worrying if this had something to do with Elliot’s disappearance. “Understood. Continue.”
“Sometimes he’d go out or hang with Mia, but a large majority of the time he’d just go back home and rest. He took weekends and Wednesdays off, but Elliot’s heart always resided with Builder Brother’s. He told me that he wanted to earn a living, not just coast off of my efforts. He got himself hired and worked his way up to the top. I was so proud…” Mr. Builder looked to the counter, as if at any moment Elliot would be there counting cash from the register or scrubbing a spilt drink. Miraculously enough, a figure did materialize from the glowing kitchen entrance. “Mia? It’s ten thirty, what are you doing out here?”
Mia Builder speedwalked over and upturned the contents of her red purse onto the booth’s table. “You’re a detective, right? Here’s his phone -the password’s 11032007- and some photos I have of him, and a copy of his driver’s license, and a copy of his passport, and his birth certificate, and-“
“Mia.” Mr. Builder said firmly. “That’s quite enough. We’ve already given the police all of this information.”
Mia balled her fists. “The police didn’t find anything and it’s been years! Come on, at least let me be interviewed. What if there’s something you missed, or if the detective needs confirmation, or- or something!”
She turned to her with shining eyes. It reminded Jane of herself in those awful days after the March 18th Incident, begging Roblox H.Q. for any knowledge on John. If he had been spotted, if there was a way to reverse the corruption, if anyone could just talk to her, tell her what was going on- “With all due respect, Mr. Builder, another perspective could be helpful.”
Mr. Builder sighed, hand brushing up against the copy of the driver’s license. Something about it seemed to break his resolve. “Alright.”
“Thank you. Can you two tell me what happened on the day of Elliot’s disappearance?”
“It was a day like any other. He woke up, went to work, and took a delivery job at around…” Mia scrounged around her pile of evidence, pulling a printed-out screenshot of an order log. “Twelve thirty-four. It was to a house about twenty minutes away, but he never made it there. When he didn’t show up two hours later, I went out on the same route and…”
Mia swallowed roughly. Mr. Builder picked up where she left off. “Elliot’s scooter was found completely wrecked, lying off the side of the road. There’s been no trace of him since.”
With sudden vehemence, Mia slammed her hands down onto the table. “He didn’t kill himself or run away. He would never do that.”
Jane was aware of what it looked like: a young man working himself to the bone in a place that had previously been attacked by an exploiter, multiple times. The average person would come to the conclusion that he became sick of it all and left one way or the other. She was not the average person. There were threads here, winding together to create some sort of grand conspiracy. People didn’t just disappear into thin air, especially people powerful enough to shape the world to their will. “I believe you.”
“You do?” Hope sparks in Mia’s eyes. Jane knows that at this point she’s willing to take anyone who believes that Elliot can be found, even if it comes from a disgraced field agent turned detective. Robloxia was a large place, and while disappearances were uncommon it wasn’t out of the question. The authorities were all-too-ready to let a case go cold when there weren’t any easy leads.
“Yes. While I can’t divulge my reasons, I believe that there is a significant chance these people have been taken. Your assistance can help me with locating them. May I ask some more questions?”
“Of course.”
The night passes swiftly as she writes down line after line of information. She knows she can’t check the site of the disappearance itself; any code that might’ve revealed itself to her would have been long gone by now, washed over by updates and time. Still, this excursion is worth it to see the light begin to return to Mia and Mr. Builder’s eyes. They began to slowly rumble back to life with every new question, every recounted memory. It tosses more fuel on the fire burning in Jane’s chest; she isn’t the only person mourning the loss of a loved one, and if she’s correct what leads her to John will lead her to all of them as well.
She thanks Mr. Builder and Mia for their time and tucked away her findings, ready to return to her evidence room and see if anything new is revealed.
+++
It’s only after her third ‘round’ does she realize what a tremendous burden has been placed on Elliot Builder’s shoulders.
Jane Doe’s arrival in the realm of the Forsaken had been met with grim acceptance by the prior residents, and the euphoria of being right about her theory is swiftly diminished by the horrible reality of the situation. Her head still throbs from 1x1x1x1’s sword, and the first time she died she almost threw up. She hadn’t seen John yet but judging from his lack of presence in the ‘Survivor’ lobby and the shocked looks on everyone’s faces when they heard her name, it’s safe to assume he was still corrupted. You knew this would happen, Jane chastised herself, so there’s no use getting upset. Find out how you can save him now.
It was a lot easier to have said than done, especially given how difficult the ‘rounds’ were so far. The other Survivors promise that she’ll get used to it eventually, which isn’t as comforting as they seem to think it is. Jane had survived the match against C00lkidd, pulling through thanks to the child’s short attention span, help from the other ‘Sentinels’, and Elliot’s pizza. This world seemed to have strange rules of its own, and everyone but her had adjusted to it.
She was coughing as smoke ate away her lungs before Elliot appeared at her side, holding a slice of pizza for her. “Eat this,” he had urged. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’ll help.”
Miraculously, it did. Jane barely managed to thank him before Elliot turned on his heel and took off back towards the fight, yelling at Chance to hang on a little longer. Whenever a round ended, Elliot was the first to collapse into a chair, promising everyone that he’d be ready to go in a few minutes. No one spoke up if he fell asleep, opting to gently move him to the couch instead. Maybe it was just her age showing but he looked so young when he was curled up by the soft light of the fireplace, trying to get some rest before another round inevitably started. Something twisted in her stomach. This had become normal to eleven other people.
Elliot made a vague noise in his sleep and twisting onto his side. Jane continued to wait on an adjacent chair. She hadn’t found the time to properly speak with him so far, but she wouldn’t let the opportunity to know how his family was doing escape. The other Survivors had tried to keep their conversations causal during her first day in the realm of the Forsaken; who are you, how did you get sent here, what time was it back in Robloxia- that sort of thing, but she could see the urgency in their eyes. According to Noob, time was wonky here. What could be one week for them could be a month outside, and what could be three days could be a single hour. It seemed to change randomly, their captor not allowing for the Survivors to carve out a consistent timeframe of how long they’ve been gone.
Elliot made another noise, screwing up his eyes. Jane knew from experience that he was having a nightmare, spending more than enough nights bolting awake with the image of John’s warped body seared into her mind. Perhaps she should go get someone who knows him better when he wakes up? She barely knows this man or the trauma he’s faced, and any attempts to comfort him might sound hollow from her. She gets up to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and when she returns Elliot is awake and wiping at his eyes.
“Ah- hey, Mrs. Doe.” She hands him the glass. Elliot’s eyes widened a bit. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“We’re all going to be trapped here for quite some time, so feel free to just call me Jane.”
“But you’re so old- I mean- not old, you look fantastic, but you’re from the dawn of Robloxia itself! Not in an old way! It just warrants respect.” Elliot babbled, still a little incoherent from just waking up. Jane chuckled, a rare sound.
“At least you didn’t call me a hacker. I’ve had enough of that rumor to last me a lifetime…” Right. The reason why she was waiting to talk to him in the first place. “I spoke to your father and sister recently.”
Whatever grogginess he had before seemed to be thrown off immediately at the mention of Mr. Builder and Mia. Elliot sprang forwards, almost dropping the glass. He hastily set it down onto the coffee table, hands surging forwards like he wanted to grab her by the shoulders but thought better of it. “What? When? How are they doing? Is Mia alright? Is Dad?”
“Your sister and your father are fine, just grieving. Mia made quite the strong first impression; she gave me every single bit of evidence she could to help with your case. Mr. Builder seemed much more distant, but both of them are in good health otherwise.” Jane dutifully reported. She had promised them that she would tell them if she found Elliot. It went both ways, she supposed.
“Mia is so shy, though…” He chewed on his bottom lip, disturbed by the realization. “Thank you, Jane. It means a lot to me. I have some more questions, if you don’t mind?”
Elliot looked so afraid like this. So lost. Three years of being trapped in this hellhole had taken its toll on him, visible in the anxious twitch of his hands and the way his eyes never stopped looking around for threats. The only healer for years, with multiple games every day. Watching everyone die around him, or dying himself. If she could give him even an ounce of peace by answering his questions, she’d take it. “Of course.”
+++
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Oblivious and Mrs-“
“No need for the formalities with either of us, Mrs. Doe. You said that you believe Guest 1337 is alive?” The two people sitting on the couch leaned in further. Daisy fiddled with her ring while Matt tapped his foot.
They had agreed to meet in Daisy’s house, and it was the sort of homely atmosphere Jane had become unfamiliar with in her hunt for information. Her old house with John was abandoned, closed off due to worries that the corruption could’ve infested it. All those memories, packed up and tucked away as if they had never existed at all. It began to rot, no one taking care of it out of fear. In comparison, this house was warm and cheery. The fridge boasted drawings made by Charlotte or her good grades, and there was evidence of daily life everywhere in the form of stacks of mail or half-empty glasses of water. Matt, from what she had gathered, lived somewhere nearby with a wife of his own. Jane had reached out to both of them, and they agreed to meet her here.
“I believe that he was taken, yes. I am unsure of anyone’s physical state, however.” Jane Doe pulled out a folder. “His status as presumed K.I.A throws a unique wrench in the typical pattern of disappearances, but they never did find a body, correct?”
Daisy swallowed. Her house gave Jane the uncanny impression of her old one that she shared with John, just with signs of a child scattered about. Photos of Daisy, Charlotte, and Guest 1337 hang proudly on the walls, meticulously dusted. Charlotte had been ushered up to her room when Jane arrived, Daisy trying to protect her child from false hope. “No, but… the Bacon Empire has P.O.W camps. They could’ve thrown him in one of them, and with three Admins gone there’s nothing we can do for him.”
“Plus, they hate his guts. If they had the last Guest they would make it clear to us, not sit on it in silence. They’d do a public execution, one that they could throw back in our faces.” Matt frowned deeply. Jane could catch slight scarring on his arms, no doubt from his service in the war.
“Even a grenade would’ve left behind parts of Guest 1337, and player registration still applies for Guests.” Jane tapped a registration log. Being a former employee of Roblox H.Q. had its perks. She trailed her finger down to another photo, this one of a code line. “See this? It’s been tampered with to register him as a casualty, but the original code would note him as an unknown. While it might be a glitch in the system, there’s been a repeated pattern of this tampering found within code lines of other missing people.”
Daisy slowly reached out and examined a secondary photo closer, comparing Chance’s code lines to Guest 1337’s. Matt scooted over so he could see it as well. “So this means that he’s still alive!”
“Again, we don’t know that for certain.” Jane didn’t want to crush either of their hopes, but it would be quite hypocritical of her to find them unreasonable for clinging to the idea. “Can you answer some questions for me, both of you?”
“Anything.” Daisy said. Matt nodded.
“Very well. Has Guest 1337 ever had his code altered at any time in the past?” Jane knew that the Guests were dealt a poor hand in life. Half of them were unable to speak, and the discrimination they faced from both inside and outside Robloxia was more than capable of turning them bitter. She had done some looking into the Guest 666 case to see if it was anything similar to John’s corruption, and while it was certainly the most extreme incident of a Guest hacking it was far from the first.
“No. He never had the means to growing up, and he didn’t like the idea of tampering with his code.” Daisy bristled defensively at the question. Jane had been in a similar situation after the March 18th incident. Has your husband ever shown any inclination towards modifying his code before? Has your husband used scripts in the past, and has he shown any sign of addiction? Is your husband a hacker, is his corruption his fault so we don’t have to look into it, so we don’t have to track him down, so we don’t have to care-
She noticed that her pen had left a dark blotch of ink in the notepad. Jane forced herself to ask more questions about his everyday life until she was sure there was nothing that would’ve led to him disappearing for other reasons. Now was the time for the big guns. “Matt, describe the last day before his disappearance for me.”
“We were out in the desert. I don’t remember much from that day. It’s all a blur of gunfire and smoke, but the one thing that stands out in my mind was him. Guest 1337 tore through the Bacon Army. Earlier he had said that he wasn’t going to rest until all of them were dead, or until he was.” Matt’s hand tapped a point on his chest. “And then I was shot. I fell unconscious and when I woke up, I was in the back of a truck being tended to by a medic. He left a note behind, telling us to be strong.”
“I see.” Jane was a bit disappointed that she didn’t have any further information, but she could hardly blame Matt. “Thank you for all of your time. May I contact either of you if I need to answer further questions?”
“Of course! Here, I’ll write down our numbers…”
As Jane prepared to leave, a scene caught the corner of her eye. Daisy was talking to Charlotte, who was sitting near the top of the stairs so she could eavesdrop. Their voices were tight whispers, never rising high enough to hear. The brim of her hat cast a large shadow that obscured Jane’s eyes, so they didn’t notice when she watched them. Charlotte kept stealing glances at her, as if deciding to weigh her chances with this strange detective in her house. “I will alert you if there are any significant developments in my case. Thank you for your time.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Doe. A lot of people are quick to write him off as a lost cause.” Matt smiled.
“I know how that feels, and I promise you that I won’t give up.”
+++
While the Survivors didn’t have an official leader, Jane was sure if she asked the answer would be Guest 1337.
He was a mortal just like them, detached from the past power of the Admins. He had been Forsaken while trying to protect his home and family, and he carried that attitude into the rounds. The moment anyone was in any danger, Guest 1337 was there to distract the Killer for as long as he possibly could. He was the first person people went to for advice or a shoulder to cry on, and he handled it with a sturdiness made even more impressive by his years spent in the realm of the Forsaken. It’s why Jane was hesitating to let him know about those he loved back at home.
She knew just how easily you could get used to a horrible, unhealthy way of living until something snapped you out of it and made you collapse upon yourself. Her obsession with finding out what had happened to John had been the only thing that kept her head above water for months until it started to drown her. Reminding Guest 1337 of everything he had lost might be the thing that finally breaks him. But… it would be incredibly cruel to keep it from him as well. Jane saw the photo tucked into his armor displaying his family, and his wedding ring would shine whenever he raised up his arms to block a hit. If someone had seen John and didn’t tell her, she would’ve been furious.“Pardon me, Guest 1337. Can I have a moment of your time?”
Guest 1337 lifted his head up. He had been sitting on a bench outside of the main cabin, staring at the ground beneath him. “Sure. How has everything been with you, Jane? I know Sentinel’s a tough role to get used to.”
“It could be going better.” Jane confessed. Changing a sample of the corruption to lose its destructive properties was significantly easier than using it in combat. “My throwing arm needs some work.”
“The Specter thinks it’s funny to give some of us gimmicks. Hey, maybe you could talk to Elliot about it? I know he’s put in work to make sure he hits us dead-on with his pizzas.” Guest 1337 suggested. He had refrained from asking questions when she first arrived, telling the other Survivors to give her space when she appeared.
“I was looking into the disappearances of many of the people here when I was taken,” Jane says instead. “One of those people being you. I spoke to your wife, Daisy, and your friend, Matt.”
Guest 1337’s eyes went wide. What she didn’t expect were his next words. “Matt’s alive?”
“Yes. He was found after your trick with the grenade took out the Bacon General and caused most of their forces to retreat. He’s married, actually.” Jane dutifully reported.
“What about Daisy and Charlotte?” Guest 1337 looked like he wanted to get up and pace, settling for raking his hands through his hair.
“They miss you quite a lot. Daisy has remained steadfast in the face of your absence, and Charlotte… I did not meet her enough to gauge anything, but from what I have seen she is doing well.”
Guest 1337 wrapped her in a crushing hug. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. Tears had begun to bead in his eyes. “Thank you, Jane. Thank you so much. I-I never thought I’d see them again, any of them, and while I might not- just, thank you. Admins, I can’t believe he’s alive. I’ve missed them so much.”
Jane awkwardly returned the hug. How long had it been since she had contact like this? Since John got corrupted? “It’s no trouble at all, Guest 1337. I know what it’s like to be separated from your love.”
He released her, looking a bit more somber at that. “Right. John Doe… you haven’t fought him yet, but he’s a tough one. He lays plenty of traps, but he doesn’t seem aware of what he’s doing. There’s a round every blue moon where he just freezes and does nothing. C00lkidd thinks he’s playing tag, Guest 666 is a rabid beast, and all of the other Killers do it out of their own free will. John Doe’s puppeted by the corruption.”
“I know my husband is still in there somewhere.” Jane rubbed her wedding ring.
“For your sake? I hope you’re right.” Guest 1337 met her eyes with compassion. “If you ever need anything or anyone, I’m here.”
+++
“Jane? Is that really you?”
Jane froze. She knew there was a chance she’d get caught; Roblox H.Q. had tight security before, and the disappearance of three Admins only increased it. It was a miracle her old I.D. let her in and that she managed to make it all the way to a record room undetected so far. Slowly, she retracted her hand. Across the narrow hall the filing cabinets made stood Brighteyes. She was virtually unchanged from the last time they had met, which was a few days after the March 18th Incident.
“Where have you been? We’ve all been so worried about you, you practically dropped off the radar! I thought you might’ve been…” Brighteyes’ cat ears drooped. She tilted her head, seeing the open cabinet. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I was just about to leave.” Jane kept her response curt. She might’ve been on good terms with Brighteyes in the past, but all of that had rotted the moment John was overtaken by the corruption. It was their faults for failing to save him, and they hadn’t done anything to find him or the other missing people so far. There was no good that could come from being close with her again.
“Wh- Leaving already? C’mon, Jane no one’s seen you back at Roblox H.Q. since… if there’s something you need help with, then you can always ask. It might be more hectic here with three people gone, but we’re still with you.” Brighteyes gave her a winning smile. It was the same one she shared with her husband, and it used to be able to get Jane to cave in a matter of seconds.
Jane scoffed and clenched her satchel tighter. She had already taken multiple files, and her experimental vial of modified corruption sat inside. It was too risky to leave at home, but if an Admin saw it they would confiscated it no matter how hard she pleaded. “Given your past record, I highly doubt that. Step aside, Brighteyes. There’s nothing left for me here.”
Brighteyes’ ears pinned back, tail lashing with frustration. “Of course there is! We care about you, Jane. If you can just tell us what’s wrong, we can help-“
“Like you helped with my husband?” Jane snapped. “No, you gave up on him. You left him to rot in own sickness until it ate him alive!”
“We didn’t know the corruption would spread so fast. No one could. We wanted to help, Jane, but there was nothing that could be done. You saw him out there! There was nothing left of his mind.” Brighteyes shook her head, taking a step forwards.
“You don’t know that! You tried to kill him before you could find out, because that’s how you Admins deal with all of your problems! You ignore them until you can’t anymore, and then you ban them.” Jane felt anger build, thick in the back of her throat. She wanted to scream, to rip the filing cabinets from the walls and send them crashing down, to bury her hatchet in the body of this failure in front of her-
“He was dead, Jane!” Brighteyes hissed. “That thing wasn’t your husband anymore, it was using his corpse as a vessel so it could consume as much as it could. That corrupted code could’ve destroyed all of Robloxia itself if we didn’t stop it, and I’m sorry you lost your husband to it. It was cruel and it was unfair, and everyone here misses him! You aren’t the only person mourning, and you have the right to mourn, but there was nothing we could do!”
“Liar! There’s always something. You were Admins, what was the fucking point of all of your powers if you couldn’t save him?” Hot, angry tears had begun to roll down Jane’s face. Distantly, she noted that their yelling would attract a crowd. She didn’t care. All of them deserve to know that their mistakes wouldn’t go away so easily, that they had failed her, failed him-
“I don’t know!” Brighteyes screamed. They both fell silent after that, trying to catch their breaths and ignore the rawness in their throats. “I don’t know, Jane. We should have been able to save him. We wanted so badly to save him, but we couldn’t, and we’ve never forgotten that. There isn’t a day that goes by here without remembering the March 18th Incident, and we always wondered if there was something we could’ve done better. If we could’ve fixed everything like we’re supposed to. But we didn’t, Jane, and we couldn’t. We failed him. I can’t fail you too. Please, just let me help you.”
Jane wanted to yell again. She wanted to be furious, to push Brighteyes aside and stomp home, letting the wrath in her chest smolder and fuel her, but this was Brighteyes. Her friend, trying to help her even later. Jane had been doing this on her own for so long. Maybe a little help wouldn’t be so bad..? “I’ve been looking into disappearances across Robloxia. I’ve noticed a strange pattern in code modifications, but aside from that there’s no common pattern. It seems to be people from many different walks of life, taken without any trace.”
Brighteyes smiled. “You were always our best field agent. How have you been finding these modifications? The only place they’re recorded is-“
It dawned on her where they were and what Jane was going before she interrupted. “Oh. Well, uh, if you wanted access to the code recordings without breaking in, you could’ve asked.”
“Could I?” Jane murmured. “Half of Robloxia is convinced I’m a hacker, and I haven’t worked a day since John disappeared. They’d call me crazy or sic Doombringer on me.”
“Hey, no one would say that!”
“Not out loud.” Their gazes pierced Jane like thousands of needles in the week after the March 18th Incident. The rumors grew the longer Roblox H.Q. went without a formal statement; the Does had secretly been hackers the whole time, looking to usurp the Admins and take their place as rulers of Robloxia. It took everything in her to not turn on them right then and there, knowing that it would only add further fuel. Even years later they remained; Jane was corrupted herself and just hiding it, she was going to bring back her husband and release him on Robloxia, she was slowly growing the corruption in other areas and waiting for the moment to strike. Her mask of detached coldness seemed hid the way the words burrowed deep in her heart. “But they do think I’m crazy, don’t they? A widow, driven mad by grief, fruitlessly chasing anything that could feed her delusion of bringing her husband back? I see the way they look at me. The way they talk about me when they think I can’t hear.”
Brighteyes reached a hand out. “Don’t listen to them. You might be a little eccentric, but you’re trying so hard to do the right thing. Jane… we’ve been looking into the missing people too. It’s one of our top priorities. Maybe you could take a little break, destress, check in with us later? I know how I get when I’m wrapped up in my work.”
Jane stilled. They always looked, always said it was a priority, but they never did find anything, did they? They tried and they tried, but they didn’t save him. “I knew it. This was a mistake.”
“Hey, no, that came out the wrong way. You’re putting a tremendous amount of stress on yourself, Jane, and we’re just worried-“
“We’re worried. We tried. You keep saying we, Brighteyes, but I’ve been on my own for years by now and have found out more about those cases and the corruption that Roblox H.Q. has by a long shot. Would you have even bothered to talk to me if I wasn’t here right now?” Jane jabbed her finger forwards accusingly.
“You’re the one who keeps pushing everyone away! You took off work for a month and ignored everyone’s attempts to reach out and we figured fine, you were mourning, you needed some space. We kept sending people to talk to you afterwards and you just kept sending them away! We can only help you if you let us, Jane!”
“Then help me.” The fury was back. This was typical Admin behavior, always convinced that they were right. “Help us. You said that I wasn’t the only one grieving? You’re right. There are people all across Robloxia who are missing their loved ones, and they are still waiting for you to do something. Name one successful thing you’ve done to help the missing persons case.”
Brighteyes frowned. “We’ve investigated the areas of the disappearances from the code up, and we’ve run extensive background checks. We’ve spoke to all of their family members, and-“
“And what? Did you ever follow up with them? Do you have something substantial to show them?” Jane stalked closer. A sudden passion had seized her. “I do. I have answers. I’ve been working on a project, Brighteyes, and just because all of you have abandoned him doesn’t mean that I will. I will fix everything.”
“Do you even hear yourself, Jane?” Brighteyes sounded less upset, more exhausted. “You’re running around in circles, chasing shadows and calling them patterns. You need help, not a conspiracy, and I’m not going to continue to indulge you.”
Jane swallowed. Stood up straight. “Then what good are you, Brighteyes?”
Brighteyes recoiled like she had been struck. Jane shoved past her and out the door.
+++
Being a Survivor, everyone had said, was being part of a team. Everyone looked out for each other, no matter what grudges might’ve existed in the past. She surmised that this rule was originally put in place because of Elliot and 007n7, but her appearance seemed to reinvoke it.
Jane sharpened her hatchet against a whetstone. The whetstone was shared between her, Two Time, and Shedletsky. If she had to choose between him and the cultist, she would pick Two Time.
As a Sentinel, she was expected to work alongside them to cover gaps. Nothing was certain in a round, so another Survivor that could stun the Killer was considered a massive boon. They were already adjusting their plans to slot her into them, and that meant an incredibly awkward strategy meeting where she avoided speaking to the Admins as much as possible. Dusekkar was the least offensive, but Shedletsky and Builderman especially were on thin ice. So careless with their powers when they still wielded their full force, and now they were diminished even further. She would call it poetic justice had her life not depended on them being able to do their part.
Someone cleared their throat. She saw Builderman, hand still tight around his toolbox. “Your cabin has just finished construction, Jane.”
Shedletsky chimed in from the kitchen. “No more sleeping on the couch for you.”
It was clear that he was hoping to make her laugh. She refused to give it to him.
“Tough crowd, eh?”
“Ease up, my friend. The round before was strenuous, and it was her first time against Guest 666. I doubt she is in the mood for jokes.” Dusekkar added, leaning over the balcony.
“My jokes are wonderful and soothe the soul!” Shedletsky squawked. She fought the urge to wrinkle her noise with disgust. Had the Admins always been this pathetic, or was it the fault of this place? Something about that thought made her skin crawl. She needed to be out of this room, now.
“Brighteyes misses you, Shedletsky. The other Admins are trying to find us, but have failed. I doubt they’ll manage.” Jane walked to the door.
“Wait, you can’t just leave after that!” Builderman sputtered.
“I can. Roblox H.Q. will do what it’s always done; fail to address a problem until it’s too late.” Some part of Jane knows that she’s being unfair. Robloxia is a massive place and requires constant maintenance to not fall apart. The other part seethed with bitterness. She owes them nothing, not after their inaction.
“Jane, I implore you to wait-“ Jane shuts the door before she can hear Dusekkar speak. It’s petty and immature, but a silent countdown rings in her ears. She’s going to see John again. She’s going to see what he’s become. She’s going to try and save him.
+++
Jane knocked on the bathroom door. “John? Are you feeling alright?”
He had gone out for fieldwork, a rare thing considering his inclination towards the office. A few days later, he had gotten sick. At first John only complained about headaches and a sore throat, something that could easily be written off as a cold caused by March’s finicky weather. He took medicine and bundled up tight. Then it morphed into a fever, and at her insistence he stayed at home to recover. She had called Roblox H.Q. to ask if anything strange had been spotted in that area, and they told her that they would get back to her. They had agreed to go to the doctor’s if it got worse, and judging from the retching sounds he was making that was the case. Jane had gotten a glass of water ready for when he finished, and was waiting for him to answer. “Dear?”
“Jane,” he croaked, muffled through the door, “Something’s wrong.”
“I’m coming in, John.” She opened the door and nearly gasped at the scene. The toilet bowl was streaked with red and black, and something was pulsing on his arm. The tarlike substance ejected what seemed to be rotted code from its depths, quickly swallowed agains She reached forwards to help, but he recoiled from her.
“Don’t touch me.” John rasped, shivering violently. “I don’t want you to get infected too.”
“I’ll go to Roblox H.Q. They need to know about this now, especially if it has something to do with code.” John tried to pull himself up and failed, shuddering and clutching his head with his normal hand. They didn’t live too far from their workplace and Jane was decently high-ranking. They’d have to listen to her. She’d make them. “Stay still, dear. I’ll be back soon with help.”
“Okay. Can you turn off the lights? It hurts…” Hearing John in such pain felt like someone had stabbed her in the stomach.
“Of course. I love you, John.”
“I love you too, Jane.”
+++
Jane tried to get help. She really did, she dragged half of the Admins back to their house, where they were just as horrified with what was happening to John. Any attempts at healing him failed, and they promised her that they would solve this problem no matter what. She just needed to wait for them to find more information, and John needed heavy bedrest and supervision.
So she waited, and she watched as with every passing hour the sickness grew and he got worse. John’s vision got worse, and he complained of aching pains all over his body whenever he was coherent enough to talk. Most of the time he was asleep or incapable of doing anything but groaning. It had somehow jumped to his other arm, and then his back, and then his feet, and finally it began to bloom on one of his eyes. She called Roblox H.Q. every hour, asking for updates, and she got the same answer back every time. She refused to leave the house, terrified that she might come back to John’s dead body. The Admins had ordered her to keep it top secret, and back then she was still naive enough to believe that they would solve it eventually.
The next day, his breathing stilled. Jane waited by his side, tears in her eyes as it began again, a broken, uneven rhythm. Slowly, he rose into a sitting position, something he had been too weak to do earlier. She dared not hope that he had recovered, especially when the corruption had consumed so much of his body. He had been unable to do make any sounds louder than faint whispers or pained hisses, which is why it caught her so off-guard when he let out a loud, unerring scream. John had sprang off of the bed, snarling as he whipped his head back and forth like a wild animal. His eyes landed on Jane, and for a moment recognition sparked in his eyes before he slashed at her with his claws.
Burning agony had consumed her entire body as she fell to the floor, pain clouding her mind as she writhed. It had subsided after what felt like hours later, revealing the rather shallow scratch marks on her chest. Jane struggled upright, hands barely able to call Robloxia H.Q. Left behind in John’s wake were blotches of the same corruption that had consumed him whole, and Jane limped her way out of the house to see the world in disarray.
Years later, she was right back where she started.
Jane hurled another one of her crystals, getting a snarl out of John as she stumbled away. The dark spikes that he had wretched out of the ground had knocked her off balance and now the whole world was spinning, her hand against a cold stone wall being the only thing stopping her from falling over.
It was the first time she had seen him since March 18th, and he hadn’t changed a bit. Any words she said fell on deaf ears, but some part of John seemed to be in there. He squinted at her with confusion constantly, and if there was anyone still alive on the map he would switch his target from her to them. The Survivor numbers whittled down until she was the only one alive, but she knew she wasn’t going to win. She had been careless and taken too many hits, and one more would be the thing to do her in for good.
John’s heavy footsteps thudded behind him, and no matter how hard Jane tried to muster up the will, her exhausted legs just couldn’t run anymore. His claw carved into her back, sending Jane onto the floor. Her hatchet went sprawling out of reach. This was it. Killed by the man she loved the most. She fought the sob welling in her chest as John crouched down next to her. “What..?”
With a shocking gentleness, he carefully flipped her over so she was face up. The corruption burned, but Jane didn’t have the strength to fight it. It didn’t seem capable of killing her anyway. It needed John to do that. Tears streamed down her face as he lifted her hat off, cradling her head with his clawed arm. John moved closer, corrupted eye pulsing. She wanted to speak, to ask him if he was in there somewhere, but she couldn’t move her tongue. She couldn’t move anything. It was getting harder and harder to keep here eyes open.
“Can’t see…” The words sounded like they had been dragged out of his mouth and raked over coals, a struggle to even speak. The red code of the corruption violently glowed, displeased that its host was managing to regain some semblance of control. “Jane?”
Death dragged Jane Doe under, leaving John Doe with nothing but a dead body.