Chapter Text
THE FALSE PROPHET FOLLOWS THE PATH, AS-
"Cel- Cel! Come on, you're not usually this unfocused on the job!"
Cel snapped to attention. Right. Of course. That was on them.
...
They muttered an apology to their co-worker before taking a few seconds to reorient. On the job at Corpsebucks, to get that sweet, sweet work-study money from their college. This was a job they normally performed rather well, if they did say so themselves.
And now was a particularly bad time to be zoned out. Three weeks before the end of the semester. But it wasn't their fault that-
"Help me out here, mew!~"
"Right. My bad."
Back to routine. Keep moving. Brew, serve, repeat ad nauseum. Listen for their voice, because Cel was pretty sure they hadn't seen them at all this past week and it was getting concerning. Usual stuff.
Maybe they just came in earlier than Cel did. They had been late today. Or...
No, it was pointless getting worked up over a worst case scenario. Even if it'd make sense from what they remembered.
They shook their head, putting a lid on some sort of latte and placing it on the counter, pretending to listen to a complaint about how they didn't include something that they absolutely did.
(If their job wanted to be basically akin to some sort of weird cooking minigame today for some reason, then they'd treat it like one.)
Shortly later, the crowd had died down enough for Cel to justify trying to make conversation with aforementioned co-worker.
"You're heading back home soon, right?" they began, leaning against the counter and closing their eye. "Earlier than, like, everyone else I know."
She shrugged.
"Somebody's gotta keep my nobody of a cousin socialised! It's tough work, but they need it!"
"Admirable, Maddie," they drawled, though they couldn't help but be amused.
...
"You're thinking about something and aren't telling me. Get to the point," she eventually told Cel. Had they been that obvious?
...No point beating around the bush then, they supposed. They opened their eye again, brow furrowing slightly.
"Has Casey been by at all since last week?" they asked.
Maddie tilted her head at them.
"The one who orders the poison drink? Can't say I've seen 'em! Why?"
(Can't a guy worry about their friend slash acquaintance slash ex slash whatever without being grilled for it?)
"I just can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. They're a lot of things, but I thought consistent was one of them. Like, should I try to check on them, or..?"
"...Is it something that can wait for your shift to end, or are you going to leave me here?"
Well, it wasn't that far to the dorms. And they had a legally required break, so...
"I'll be back in, like, ten minutes?" they offered.
Maddie gave Cel a stare that almost had them retracting the bargain, before she let out a quiet grumble.
"Fine. Fine! FINE! Go on and get! Just- ugh- remember you owe me for this!"
Keeping that in mind, Cel slung their messenger bag around their shoulder and left the building, not even stopping to take off the apron before they were headed to-
Okay, so they didn't know which room exactly Casey lived in, but they'd figure it out! It was a small enough university! It wasn't like there were that many options!
(They vaguely remembered their roommate bringing up the floor number, at least, but they were still looking at knocking aimlessly on at least 15 doors.)
They could figure this out. They just needed to do a sweep first, and then they could-
...
One of the doors they walked by was conspicuously ajar, for some reason. They couldn't see anything through it, so... they might as well start with the most concerning possibility first.
Convention dictated that they raise their fist to knock before entering. Even if it was a weird door with weirder vibes, they-
The door swung open on its own, like raw darkness was flowing through it. Cel took a few steps back on instinct as the hallway dimmed and became several degrees colder as if in response.
Every part of this was weird as hell; they debated whether or not to close the door and walk away or to investigate the closest lead they had.
They sighed. Better them than some other poor fool. If no one was inside, they'd leave. If someone was, they'd ask what was going on before leaving. Either way, they weren't going to linger.
And then the door slammed behind them, leaving Cel in a room too dark to make out a single thing.
"God damn it," they muttered as they stepped on something that made a noise far too similar to shattering glass.
...They would've tried to figure it out, but the floor literally gave out under them, causing them to fall into the darkness.
Cel wasn't sure how long it was before they opened their eye again. They adjusted their eyepatch, and-
Hm. They were wearing dark blue gloves now, apparently. Their skin seemed to be a light purplish shade, but that may have been the lighting.
Not to mention the outfit itself. Bow tie, epaulettes... like a silver and dark blue version of a general from a time when weapons still took three minutes to reload.
...They still kept the Corpsebucks apron, though. It... did not seem to change. They weren't sure if that was reassuring or not.
...
This did not change the goal at hand. They still had to figure out what the hell was going on. They got to their feet, a loud thud resounding as a flail dropped next to them.
...Considering their bag was conspicuously absent, this was the best thing they had. At least it looked cool. That was a positive; along the fact that there being a ground meant that this was somewhere. It being somewhere meant they could leave.
Either they were concussed or crazy, but-
...
Was that laughter? It sounded almost like...
Great. If it was who Cel thought it was, this situation just got ten times more worrying. Because that laugh was absolutely bone-chilling.
No use in delaying the inevitable, they mused, heading down the only available path. It wasn't much brighter, and they were leaving behind the indigo light that heralded their arrival for some reason, but... they could see the ground in front of them, and that was sufficient.
The darkness wasn't getting any warmer, though. Cel doubted it would kill them, but it was still unpleasant.
...They just had to keep following the ominous laughter in the nightmare world until something either killed them or they figured out what the hell was happening. They just had to keep reminding themselves of that.
Eventually, once they started considering turning around and waiting things out where they came in from, they came across what seemed to be... a poorly constructed theatre? It had a booth in front, completely unmanned and seemingly constructed from some kind of cardboard.
Above it, of significantly higher quality, was a lit-up sign that welcomed them to "THE OILED SUN THEATRE". It occasionally flickered cyan, but was always fixed before Cel could take a closer look.
This... seemed to be where the laughter was coming from. Indeed, some sort of applause confirmed their suspicions. They prepared to step inside, when-
Hm. A faded ribbon, the same colour as the sign was flickering, was tied to the edge of the booth. Like it was left outside while the world continued, forgotten.
It had to belong to them, didn't it? They couldn't just...
They untied the ribbon and retied it around the wrist of their bad arm. They'd give it back at some point, but... leaving it behind didn't sit right with them.
Their worries both assuaged and intensified, they stepped inside. They could see a completely featureless audience, and-
[?????]
GREETINGS, EVERY- (cough)- YES, NO, MAYBE, PERHAPS, AND SURE IN THE AUDIENCE!
...What.
They were pretty sure they knew that voice, but-
[?????]
AH, WAIT! [AUDIENCE gasps] A NEW ACTOR HAS APPEARED FROM STAGE DOWN! COME IN, COME IN!
...
Oh god. That definitely meant them, didn't it.