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Seven Deuce

Summary:

Chance falls through cracks in Forsaken’s code and finds themself in a new world of an endless cycle of torment. He meets a new friend there that they feel really understands him.

Notes:

This was the fanfic from hell and has brought me so much dismay and frustrations. I just want this to be over.

also I didn't read this before posting it so beware there are SO MANY errors.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Keep Up

Chapter Text

Chance had absolutely no idea that today was going to change his limbo forever. Nothing had seemed different to them, but some virus must’ve snuck in their world and gotten him sick, changing the way his dimension worked around him. That night he woke up to prepare for his round aroused him feeling jittery. They were always energetic and ready to go, but that night was different. It was a restless feeling. A feeling that demanded he should go, go, go and run, run, run out of here. Anywhere BUT here would suffice. He just needed to move.

Chance ignored it when that feeling came. This hell had a knack for leaving everyone with an unending sense of dread and dismay. Chance figured it was the same feeling until the timer started to tick down for the round to begin. The feeling didn’t go away. It only got worse. More prominent and hard to ignore. By the time the round had started and Chance along with the other survivors were summoned into that map for five minutes of torment, Chance’s legs were nearly shaking.

“Chance, are you alright?” Elliot asked, resting his hand onto Chance’s shoulder. Usually, Elliot’s presence and touch would bring Chance comfort, but not now. He felt, so, so sick with anxiety. “Yeah, I just feel… nervous,” Chance admitted, looking away with a tight grin. It felt terrible admitting something so venerable. Chance didn’t appreciate people seeing them unwell. It made them feel weak and exposed. Even when admitting such a thing to Elliot, a friend who he has told much more intimate things to, it felt wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right setting. Maybe this wasn’t the “I’m not doing well” environment Chance was hoping for to be honest with. Elliot didn’t judge Chance. He gave Chance that soft reassuring smile they hated. They hated how soft and gooey it made him feel, like everything would be alright.

Elliot gently patted Chance’s shoulders, his eyebrows creased in concern slightly. “After this, how about you sit out for the next round? You really don’t look well.” Elliot raised his hand to his face and made a circling motion. “You look purple.”

“Purple?” Chance echoed. Elliot nodded slowly before taking a step back. “Take it easy. I’ll keep an eye on you.” He said, smiling back at Chance before walking off, further into the foggy map.

Chance followed shortly after him, but they struggled to stay grounded. The more time here, stuck in the fog and static mess of their mind, the less grounded he felt. It was the worst feeling. The trees and structures around the place felt less real. Chance could see the pixels in them. He could feel the ground underneath him and it felt wrong. He felt lost. He had never been lost like this before. Before they started to run and search for other survivors, 1x1x1x1’s dreadful presence rang in Chance’s ears.

They spun around to face the killer, hand reached down to their flintlock. Before Chance could see what was going on, a body collided into him. Noob fell to the ground beside Chance, knocking them both down. Chance rolled over and pushed himself up with his hands to gaze around, dazed. He struggled to catch his breath, gasping while he heaved himself up to his feet. Noob quickly bolted off into the mist out of sight.

The ringing didn’t cease. It grew louder once Chance gathered their bearings. In front of them, Elliot hid behind a tree, anxiously glancing around the corner with a slice of pizza firm in his hands. In the clearing, Guest 1337 stood square with his sleeves rolled up, standing facing 1x1x1x1.

Chance wheezed, pressing a hand to their forehead. They felt so disconnected from everything. Their body, the world, and their thoughts. It all felt vaguely distant, like they were just an observer in everything happening at the moment. As he walked closer to the killer, he didn’t feel in control of what he was doing. He felt like someone was guiding him and his body, leading him to where he subconsciously wanted to go, rather than making the choice himself to do it. The ground underneath him felt light like it could slip away—like a rug pulled out underneath them. Maybe the grass would pull back and they’d slip through the cracks. Whatever it was, the world didn’t want them there.

“Guest!” Chance called, hand resting on the holster of his flintlock. Everyone’s head turned to Chance. With only time for Guest to step back, Chance instinctively raised their flintlock, firing it at 1x1x1x1. The gun shot with a loud crack. Rather than the satisfying stun of the killer they were hoping for, a wave of vertigo flooded over Chance.

Chance stumbled back, flailing his arms as his sense of direction vanished. The world blurred and spun around him, leading him unable to focus on anything. He felt himself begin to fall, and that’s when he noticed Elliot running out towards him. Elliot called Chance’s name, but it felt muffled and distant. He stared at Chance with a look of pure consternation. They couldn’t fathom what would make him look so scared.

When Chance fell far enough to reach the grass, they braced for the impact of the hard ground. It didn’t come though. Rather than slamming into the rough soil, Chance felt themself slip through it, through the soil down into a dark void.

Ebony clouded around them while lines a red code darted past Chance. It all blurred together, too overwhelming to comprehend.

Chance stared wide-eyed, struggling to process what was going on. He couldn’t even think. Everything happened around him while he fell limp, completely withdrawn from the reality around him. In his mind, he couldn’t truly believe anything happening around him. He felt so lost and confused. A sticky feeling that clung to his hands and arms and legs all told him he’d be stucklike this. Silhouetted dark hands reached out to Chance, trying to catch him, but he slipped through the fingers and continued to fall.

────── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ──────

Chance didn’t remember loosing consciousness, but they do remember coming to. Their back ached, ears rang, and their vision blurred. Everything looked vaguely bright and smeared to the point that Chance couldn’t focus on any of it.

After blinking for a few moments, they properly gathered their bearings and began to process their surroundings.

They looked to be in a giant old warehouse. There wasn’t much around outside of poles, overgrown weeds, and boxes. All the windows were dark. It was clear Chance hadn’t escaped the eternal nighttime paradox just yet.

They noticed they were slumped propped up against a wall surrounded by several people. They all looked so diverse, surely nearly half of the had to be from different realms. Closest to him was what looked like a surgeon, leaned forward with a stethoscope pressed to Chance’s chest.

The doctor’s eyes met with Chance’s quickly, wide in shock once he noticed Chance was awake. “Hey, can you tell me—”

“WOAH!” Chance suddenly became lucid. They kicked their feet back, straightening their back against the wall as much as they could, trying to get as far away as he could from the doctor in his face. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?” Chance huffed out a defensive laugh, anxiety boiling in his stomach and fingertips.

“Easy,” the doctor began. He held his hands up gently and calmly spoke to Chance. “My name is Doctor Mick. Do you mind if I check to make sure you’re alright?”

Chance glanced around anxiously. Everyone surrounding him looked rattled at Chance’s outburst. Most of them stood defensively or ready to run in case he acted out or threatened them. As much as they didn’t like being stared at this way, Chance couldn’t really blame them for their weariness. He remembers how hard the transition was for everyone back at the cabin when they would get a new survivor.. or killer.

Standing close behind Dr. Mick was a familiar silhouette. I was--Noob! Chance grinned with unfiltered hope. "Noob!" they called out.

Noob jumped, then pointed at themself with a baffled expression. "M-me?" They asked. Chance pushed their way to their feet, causing Dr. Mick to stumble back. "yes!" Chance grinned, overjoyed to be seeing their friend here. Maybe they knew what was going on. He tried to brush past Dr. Mick to hug Noob, but was quickly stopped by a firm hand grabbing hold of their shoulder to force him still.

Chance had to tilt their head all the way back to see the person's face. He looked like the former admin Mr. Doombringer, but he had thick dark fur, and his bucket helmet was dark too.

"Sit back down," he ordered, his voice deep and agitated. All the other people surrounding them looked visibly on edge. Chance swallowed back a sickness forming in his gut and did as the person said. Dr. Mick looked up at the person, his eyes soft and knowing. Whatever his relation was to this person, Chance understand they knew each other. Everyone here did, surely. "Judge, can you keep an eye on him while I talk things over with the others?" Dr. Mick asked politely, resting his stethoscope back around his neck.

Judge nodded, slowly moving his head to looked down at Chance. In response, Chance grinned back at him. They'd be damned if the tough guy caught their fear now. "Don't leave me out!" Chance called to Dr. Mick sarcastically as he began walking away with most of the others following him. With no response, Chance slumped back against the wall and stared up at Judge.

"Tough crowd, huh?" Chance joked to Judge, once again only met with silence.

Once the crowd was off the side Dr. Mick began to speak again, his voice soft and low so Chance wouldn't be able to hear their discussion.

"I think they're alright," Dr. Mick began. "I'd like someone to give them a tour of the place and show them around." He paused for a moment. "I don't think they'll be a threat."

Noob shifted uneasily on their feet, their eyebrows sewed together. "They thought they knew me," they started. "Where did they come from? Could they be from an alternate universe, or maybe another experience?" Everyone's heads seemed to turn to Noob.

Swift proudly raised her hand. "I'll show them around. They'll need an experienced player to give them a proper tour." Dr. Mick waved his hand dismissively. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you might be a bit too fast-paced for them."

"How about me?" Odds began. The other survivors gave them an uneasy look, which only prompted them to explain themself more. "C'mon, give me a chance!" They laughed out, begging. Odds swung their arms out dramatically, grinning hopefully. "I promise I can handle it." They glared at the others with a huff.

"I know you all think I'm sporadic and out of control--"

"Because you are," Angel added softly.

"I want something to do. I can do this, I swear." Odds held their hand to their chest in a hurt gesture. "When I first came here, I wanted someone like me to show me around. What if they need that? They need someone honest with them. Someone who can show them how to have some fun in this place!"

Odds stood there quietly for a few heartbeats as the other survivors wearily exchanged glances with each other. Dr. Mick looked back over his shoulder at the newcomer and sighed upon seeing them restlessly try to have a conversation with Judge only for it to be shot down again and again time after time. With a sigh, Dr. Mick turned his head back to face the group, his eyes meeting Odd's anticipating eyes.

"Alright," Dr. Mick murmured. "You can be their guide, but don't.. don't freak them out or anything. We want them to have a smooth transition into this experience."

With Dr. Mick's declaration, several of the other survivors quickly began to argue. Some uttered "are you sure about this?" while others fought back "Odds? Why them?". However, the choice had been final, and before anyone could go back on it, Odds began bounding over to the newcomer.

The overlapping rebuttals fell onto deaf ears, drowned out by Dr. Mick's humming mind. He had faith in most everyone--he'd like to believe anyone could be given a chance for anything. He was worried about this though. He understood how hard the shift into this hell could be. He didn't want it to be any harder than it had to with the newcomer. Staring at them as Odds approached Judge and the newcomer, Dr. Mick swallowed back his doubts and straightened his back. He had to rely on his team. He had to rely on the other survivors. If he couldn't even trust Odds to show someone new around and explain how everything worked, he truly was at a loss.

Notes:

if one of my irl friends found my account and is reading this hiii guys 👁️👁️ please comment so I can block you guys. I'll die fr fr if anyone I know finds this account and reads the stuff I write.