Chapter Text
December 31st, 2025, 11:43 p.m.
Derek Hutchins, 23 years old.
The last day he'll see the world.
Derek Hutchins was sitting at his desk in the damp, dark and filthy room.
Fingers typing away on the keyboard— not rushed, unlike most who would be panicked, knowing these were their final few minutes in this world.
"Please don't think you failed, Avery. When you read this, don't think you let me down. It's thanks to you, and all that you did, that millions live to see another day."
He knew just how much his death would affect him. And they were both just strangers who were dragged into this horrible situation.
... He didn't know what would await him in the afterlife.
But, knowing that he was safe, millions of people were safe—
That was enough.
"Whatever you do, at the crossroads..." He hesitated, thinking deeply about how he should end his final letter. Even as a writer, he was extremely bad at writing endings. He fought through the whirlpool of knowledge, dragging his mind down, fingers softly tapping on the keys, a gentle echo ringing throughout the empty space.
"Keep going forward. Or something like that."
He let out a breath of relief, going to upload the video to YouTube so that maybe Avery would get some closure.
The mouse cursor hovered above the upload button. Without a second thought, the man clicked it.
Derek sighed, closing his eyes and waiting for the video to be shared with the world.
97%..
98..
99....
100.
( Uploading )
...
...
...
( Video posted! )
...Well, it was done. He had uploaded the video. He lay back in his chair, closing his eyes and letting the migraine pounding in his skull finally take over, groaning as pain hit him full force.
# greetings, my 'lord'. # The King's voice rumbled in his head, shoving any other thought the man had out of the way.
✦" What do you want, Hastur. You know that you'll go down with me soon, "✦ he thought.
The King did not reply; however, only a low sound, close to that of a laugh, was heard as the thunderous voice rumbled in his head.
The King's face resurfaced in his mind, and the effect was instant. Derek doubled over, waves of knowledge washing over his mind, drowning him in an endless ocean of knowledge no human should have. Waves so strong he felt dizzy— lightheaded, even.
He felt a weird pressure crushing down on his chest, the source unknown. It felt difficult to breathe, like the weight on his chest was preventing his lungs from working properly. And, on top of all that, he felt like he was going to vomit.
...Fuck.
He pressed a hand over his mouth, feeling bile rising up his throat. As hard as he tried to force the bile down, he eventually succumbed, acid burning his throat as well as golden shimmering liquid staining the wooden surface of the desk.
He retched. Again, and again. Until blood started seeping into the odd mixture, dying it an unsettling shade of brown. Tears started to well up in his eyes— golden and glittering, just like he had thrown up mere seconds ago. They flowed endlessly, dripping onto the wooden desk, which was now stained with blood, vomit, and golden liquid— all the knowledge of the universe, in liquid form. Derek's head lay limply on the soggy surface, eyes closed as he attempted to ground himself.
✦" I- damn you... "✦ He muttered with what little energy he had left.
Wait, how many minutes were there until New Year's?
Derek wrenched his head up to look— 11:59 p.m. Just one minute.
With all the strength still left in his body, he pushed himself up from the desk, attempting to stand up, which failed miserably as he fell to the floor with a sickening thud that echoed in the walls of his empty dorm. His legs... didn't exactly work anymore. Thanks to living off smoothies and sleeping the entire day to preserve his energy.
He sighed, resorting to dragging himself towards the window. Thank goodness his arms at least still worked, though barely.
The King's laugh rumbled in his head again, louder this time.
# Little 'lord' can't properly stand. #
The man tuned its voice out, focused solely on reaching the window. Damn, he wouldn't have had to do all this if his window curtains had been open before he had to rot in that chair for nearly two months.
He reached the window and grabbed onto the window frame for quite literally dear life as he forced his body up, parting the curtains as he stared into the midnight sky.
10 seconds.
5.
3.
2.
...1.
He watched the fireworks go off, bursts of colour spreading through the midnight sky like confetti.
He watched them until he could no longer hold on to the world.
A single golden tear escaped from the corner of his eye, slipping down his cheek and dripping onto his hand.
The man's body fell limp, dropping to the floor like a rock.
...
...
...
(I was never really good with endings.)