Chapter Text
His eyes fly open in an instant.
His hand flies to cover his face as an involuntary grunt explodes from his mouth.
“Augh!”
He winces, stumbling backwards clumsily.
Why the hell is it so bright? He swears it was just evening.
He can still see it. The deep orange sunlight dancing behind him and soppy squelch of mud beneath his bare feet, the sensation of damp earth between his toes.
His large, cat-like eyes open slowly.
Immediately, his gaze pins to the bright yellow gloves enveloping his hands. It lingers there for a split second before he shifts his eyes to the side.
In front of his is some kind of... wide, videogame-like corridor. The floor is checkered in back and white, like a chess bored.
His gaze floats stiltedly to the ceiling. It droops towards him like weighted fabric, patterned in red and yellow. It reminds him of a... circus.
"...the hell...?"
His scrutinizing gaze looks from the ceiling, to the floor, the to the hand obscuring his face.
His eyes widen in disbelief as the appendage finally clicks in his brain. Where his hand should be are four fingers covered in thick, waxy yellow gloves. He lowers his hand to his face before raising his other, staring down at both hands in shock. He wiggles his fingers and his shock morphs into concern.
He's missing a finger, he realizes distantly.
He hones to where his fifth finger should be stretches his hand, expecting to feel the movement of his ring finger from outside the goggles.
He feels nothing.
So he balls his hands into a fist.
Nothing.
So he presses his fingers together. They fold beside each other stiffly, but he still can't feel the movement of his ring finger from outside the headset. It's like it's not there at all.
A shaky exhale escapes rushes out of him and his concern grows into faint panic.
“This is…” He starts, before slowly inching his mutilated hands closer to his face.
The glove tickles his temple uncomfortably and he winces. It feels like tiny hairs moving underneath his fingertips. Like his entire head is covered in fuzz or something. Which isn't... that's not...
"What is this?" He asks the still air around him.
Already, he's starting to regret this. Why the hell did he think this was a good idea again?
He lifts his left, patting the space the headset is.
Instead, his fingertips to land limply on over his eyes.
His heart stops.
He pats again, more frantically.
Nothing.
"No..." he utters.
And again, practically digging into his skull.
"No no no, where is..."
His breathing stutters.
He can't take it off.
He grabs the top of his head desperately. They make contact with two long stumps poking out from each side and a shaggy mess of thick, shoulder-length hair. He tugs at them as hard as he can, and his face stretches horrifically from the force. A pained grunt escapes him but he keeps going.
When nothing happens, he doesn't it again.
"UGH! C- c'mon?"
The headset won't budge.
Fuck.
“W— what is this— what’s…” He stutters shakily.
One more time, he decides, brings readjusting his grip. He has to do it one more, and then he'll be out of here in no time-
Frustration burns the back of his eyes. It's not working, why isn't it working??
He needs to get out of here! He needs to, to...
“Hello!?” He cries into the empty space.
“Can someone please- ” he doubles over, clawing at his face with animalistic desperation. “Argh–”
God, you looks pathetic right now.
“Get this thing off!?” He chokes out with a yell.
There’s a thud in the distance.
“Ugh– C’MON!!” he stomps on the ground hoping the friction would give enough leeway to take off the stupid headset.
“Jax…?”
He stills instantly. Relief floods through him like cold water.
He straightens meekly, trying and failing to hide his short breaths and trembling body. His eyes land on… some sort of ragdoll?
He squints at it, baffledly. It’s wearing a blue, patterned dress with tan skin and licorice-like red hair. It’s covering its mouth with shaky hands and at its feet, sits a red wooden block.
”Oh my god…” The sound muffled under their thick, cotton stuffed hands.
"..."
It blinks and in that moment, tears break free from its eyes, spilling onto its anguished face.
He gulps, unsure what to do, but forces himself to press on. “I– Hello– can you, uh, help me get this thing off? P- please?”
The pleading whine in his voice makes him cringe.
“Hey Ragatha, wha…” He follows the new voice. Some sort of cartoon jester rounds the corner, holding a blue wooden block. When it spots him, the relaxed smile on it's face crumbles and the block crashes to the group. It's body seems to lock with a snap as, eyes growing into wide saucers.
The jester blinks.
Opens it's mouth.
And blinks again.
He stands there like an idiot, eyes bouncing between the two as the panic coursing in his veins creeps towards its limit.
"..."
Why aren’t they saying anything?
Why aren’t they helping him??
He gulps and shuffles towards them unevenly. His legs feeling like noodles. “C– can someone please get th– this off of me?!” He begs.
“I– I don’t believe it,” the ragdoll says. She approaches him with an outstretched hand.
He flinches, but stubbornly keeps his feet planted.
“Is this real?” She mutters.
What?
Is "this" real, what is that supposed to mean? Is is talking about him? Is he not supposed to be real?? Of course he's real, so she's obviously talking about something else.
Because he's know if he was real and this defiantly feels real and-
Are you sure about that?
Unless…
Oh god.
Is he dead?? Did he finally die???
That could be why nobody is answering him.
He blinks away hotness threatening his vision.
Maybe you're dreaming?
Or... this could just be a dream. Yeah.
This isn’t real...
None of this is real.
A murky haze starts to ease over his thoughts.
This is a weird dream.
A really weird, annoyingly bright dr-
He chokes, sputtering into a cough.
Dizziness crashed into him and his shaky legs finally give out.
He crumbles to the floor, like a puppet with its strings cut, knees digging into the floor.
His shoulders rise and fall rapidly, coughs spilling from his throat, as his eyes start to water.
It's a lie. He knows it's lie.
He finally died, didn't he?
He doesn’t realize he’s on the ground until the ragdoll is in front of him.
Everything is a blurry mirage of color and voices.
Distantly, he recognizes what’s happening.
He thought he was doing better.
He’s supposed to be doing better!
What was all that money for then!?
Why is this happening?
Why is this still happening?!?
Breathe breathe breathe breathe—
The corridor fills with his suffocating breaths. He tries to slow them down, count to seven– anything, but his attempts are sharp and shaky.
Definitely not how he's supposed to do it.
Of course it doesn’t work when he needs it.
Oh, c’mon you idiot, breath– FUCKING BREATH!
The tears sting even more.
The ragdoll kneels in front of him. “Just breathe with me, o– okay Jax? Everything's going to be okay.” The panic in her voice is clear.
He blinks.
The blurry world around him focuses slightly as he hones in onto it– her?
She looks terrified.
Her placating hands are patting the air slowly, as if trying to calm a frightened horse.
“In and out, okay?” She smiles at him but it’s shaky.
He takes in another unsteady breath and the exhale feels a little less strangled this time.
He tries again.
And again.
And again, until his heartbeat eventually slows.
He squeezes his eyes shut and lets his head fall completely to the floor, exhaustion surging into him. He still sounds like a dying fish, but he’s breathing much better than he was before. He can feel the doll staring at him and it sends a crawling sensation down his spine.
Slowly, he lifts himself off the floor, using his trembling arms as leverage, and opens his eyes.
They’re caked with dried tears and decorated with deep puffy eye bags.
The ragdoll takes a small, shaky step away from him. He turns away from her, to meet the other gaze prickling under his skin.
The jester stands where she froze before. Her eyes are impossibly wide, mouth hanging open tremblingly.
When they make eye contact, her eyes grow even wider– which definitely shouldn’t be possible.
“Is this real…? H– how is this… even possible?” She mutters to herself.
“HOW’S WHAT POSSIBLE POMNI?!”
Jax flinches, impulsively covering his face. Some kind of denture monster with mismatched eyes appears before them, floating above their heads without a care in the world.
“...”
No one says anything.
He gapes at the create in horror. Then turns back to the characters in front of him.
The monster tilts its head in confusion, raising a hand to scratch the top of its… head?
“Hmmm… What are we all–” The creature turns around, following the gazes of the others.
When its eyes land on him, it freezes.
The air in the corridor shifts to something he can't place. It's an overwhelming shock so suffocating, it feels like his body is locked where it is.
The beast lingers in the air.
“Jax…” It whispers.
It takes off its top-hat and brings it to its chest.
Then, floats down, landing in front of him silently.
It stands there.
Looks him up and down.
“You’re back.” It says slowly.
Something in him finally snaps.
Because this is bullshit.
Everything, since the very moment he got here.
The stupid headset refuses to come off, no one will tell him anything– no one is even trying to help him!
He wants to go home.
This was a mistake.
This was a huge mistake.
The fear morphs into fierce, viperous anger.
“WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON??”