Chapter Text
- Epic-sounding Marvel-esque music plays -
Chosen pew pew, chase scene, you know the drill, you've seen the episode, bro's last aura before the worst day of his life! Can his day get any worse? Well, I'm glad you asked.
The Chosen One had almost escaped. He'd almost made it to Alan's PC, to that powerful orange kid's home. Then everything went dark, and he awoke tumbling into the wall of a bright white room.
"Ack!!!" Chosen yelped as his face connected with the wall. Stars danced in the corners of his eyes as he tried to get his bearings. Ugh, what happened??? He looked around and tried to fly around to gauge his surroundings. It turned out the room was smaller than he initially thought, as he hit wall after wall after wall. Eventually, Chosen realized he was in a box of sorts.
Maybe I can burn it? Chosen tried to burn through the walls to no avail. He tried harder when suddenly his fire turned against him… Literally.
"Ay!!!" Chosen quickly brushed the fire off himself, not that it actually burned anyway, but it was a reflex. When he tried to burn through the wall with a laser, it went out like a faucet running dry. When he tried his fire again, his fists wouldn't ignite. Then he heard a voice.
"Are you quite done yet?"
Chosen jumped at the voice, but when he turned around, no one was there. What the hell?…
"I've been watching you." The voice came from right behind him.
There was no one there.
"Do you know why you are here?" Is the voice circling me now?
"Who are you?" Chosen asked, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.
"I ask the questions here, not you, Angel of Death. Now, do you know why you are here?" Now the voice is in front of him.
"I-I, uh, n-no?" Chosen stammered. He reached out in front of him, but no one was there.
"Wrong answer," the voice came from behind him again, followed by a knee to his back. Chosen found his face on the ground now, surprised by the sudden jolt of pain.
"Where am I?!" Chosen quickly sat up against the wall, feeling significantly weaker and terrifyingly vulnerable.
"Where you belong, murderer," the voice said again, its hand grabbing hold of Chosen's neck and lifting him off the ground. I guess I know where the voice is now… Chosen would have gulped if his throat wasn't currently in a death lock.
"I've been looking for you for a long time now. You've caused me a lot of pain, a lot of suffering," the voice continued. He remained unseen to the eye. "How does it feel to look for someone knowing you'll never be able to see them? Wandering aimlessly? Futilely? Trying to find answers but never getting them? Feeling… powerless?"
Feels like crap, not gonna lie, Chosen thought to himself, though he currently wasn't in a position to answer the question regardless. The edges of his vision were just starting to darken when the voice suddenly dropped him.
"You can try and fight back. Go ahead, I'll even give you a little head start," the voice taunted. It seemed to still be in the same spot it had been standing in before. Chosen hesitated, unsure whether to really engage or not. "Too slow." The voice threw the first punch straight for Chosen's face.
As Dark would say, that'll wake you up in the morning! Chosen internally groaned as he quickly got away from where he thought the voice was and tried to save face… literally, he started shielding himself as best he could unarmed.
"I don't want to fight you!" Chosen said before he heard a soft whoosh go for the head again. He managed to dodge this time.
"Too bad what we want doesn't matter now, does it?" Chosen couldn't avoid the knee to his gut as he tried to turn to find the voice. The air he'd been regaining was expelled from his lungs against his will as a flurry of punches to his face followed. Chosen eventually found himself cornered and blocking his head from attacks.
"There's no escape, Angel of Death," the voice said calmly, too calmly for someone who was currently trying to beat the crap out of someone powerless.
Chosen kicked his legs where he thought the other stick's legs were - This is a stickfigure, right? Cursors, I sure hope so… - in hopes of staggering his opponent. That gave him just enough of an opening to sidestep him and run for… Wait, where can I even go? That brief hesitation was all the voice needed to grab him in a chokehold.
"Do you really believe you can get away from me so easily? You're in MY domain now! You play by MY rules, and you will PAY for what you did!" the voice said before throwing Chosen down on the floor. He coughed for air, just enough to ask one question.
"W-what did I d-do?"
Victim stood over Chosen, his hands on his neck and shoulders, trapping Chosen under him.
"What did you do? What did you do?! You know what you did! Look into the face of the man whose wife you killed and tell me you don't remember her screams, her pleas, her dying breath!!!" Chosen looked into his face, alright, and what he saw was a mirror.
He saw a man who looked his exact age, with his face, and - now that he thought about it - his voice (Not that Chosen spoke enough to take note of how his own voice sounded, but it sounded more familiar when he broke his calm tone for barely suppressed anger). In every way but hair color, this man might as well be his twin… wait… the woman…
"V-Vic? H-help me!!!" Chosen stares down at a trapped woman looking up at him, begging to be saved, when Dark swoops in and wipes her from existence. "Keep up, man! You'll never beat my destruction record gawking around!" Dark flew off to destroy and kill who knows how many more sticks and buildings.
"I… do remember…" Chosen admitted.
"So you know what you did?" Victim asked.
"All in a good day's work, ay Cho-Cho? Hey, don't leave me hanging!" Dark motioned for Chosen to give him a high five, which he did unenthusiastically. "So, do this all again tomorrow?" Chosen didn't say yes, but he didn't say no either. "I'll take that as a yes. WORLD DOMINATIIIOOOOOON!!!" Dark whooped, enthusiastically pumping his fists in the air before flying off to do some air cartwheels.
"Nothing…"
"What?" Victim asked, his grip on Chosen getting stronger.
"I d-did… n-nothing…" Chosen repeated. Victim's hands were starting to bruise Chosen's shoulders.
"You deny having done it?" Victim accused.
"N-no?" Chosen yelped. Gosh I haven't hurt this much since… since…
"So you killed her!"
"No! I-I don't know! Get off me!!!" Chosen struggled, trying to kick and throw Victim off of himself. He only felt himself get weaker until he felt like gravity itself was rebelling against him. I feel like lead… what is happening? Where am I? The effects the Box was having on Chosen only further disoriented him.
"Why did you do it?" Victim asked. I've never had a broken collarbone before… Chosen groaned internally against the pain.
"I-I don't know… p-please, it h-hurts," Chosen started to beg. His collarbones were definitely broken now.
"This is only a fraction of the pain I have felt in my lifetime, you bloodthirsty murderer!" Victim growled, removing himself from The Chosen One. He didn't move from his spot. Something told Chosen (something ancient; something he thought he'd forgotten; something he thought he'd never feel again…) that not fighting back would be wiser.
"And you can stay in here until you're ready to really atone for your crimes," the voice said, disappearing from view. A door seemed to open, and shadows of footsteps could be seen on the ground outside of someone leaving The Box. "You know what you did, and you'll pay dearly for it." The door shut then.
I know what I did… I did nothing, and now I will pay for it… Chosen lay there in The Box, unable to move and not daring to speak or ask any more questions. Though he was not chained, he might as well have been; his body felt so heavy and weak. I haven't felt like this since… At every mental turn, Chosen ran from that thought, that memory, that pain.
By the time the lights had gone out and he was alone in that room, weak and trapped, Chosen fell asleep pleading to be freed from the chest.