Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You were dead.

You were sure you were dead.

But you weren’t sure if the afterlife looked like the underside of a table.

The floor was cold, and you could see that it was tiled upon rolling on your side. There was an annoying, buzzing sound that filled your ears, just like the light that filled the room. A kind of light that reminded you of doctor’s offices, waiting far too long to finally get told something you already knew, and charged an absurd fee.

Slowly, you turned onto your stomach, your right side just barely touching the light while the rest of your body was still obscured by the faint shadow.

There was a pounding in your skull that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Your first thought was that it had to come from something in your close vicinity.

Nothing around you looked like it could cause this headache, though. There was a giant monkey statue to your closest corner, while a machine with a glowing, green bar sat in the corner on the very left, with an oversized chair sitting closer to you rather than the machine. There was an opening at the center of both corners, leading into a room of dark blues.

Where the hell are you?

That pounding in your head lessened slightly, but you were increasingly becoming aware of a faint ache on the side of your skull. A concussion, maybe? You weren’t sure where you had hit your head, but it probably led to you being knocked out underneath the table.

Just my luck, you thought, pulling yourself out from underneath the table. You turned your head only slightly to the right and-

Oh my God. What was that?

Something large and monstrous sat on top of a plate at the center of the table. It was a dirt brown in color, and you’re pretty sure it has eyes. A skull? Wait, no, there was a skull sitting to the right of that thing on another plate.

A rattling noise rang in your ears, causing your heart to leap. You stood quickly, looking around for the source of the noise, but found nothing.

Another noise met your ears, this one not as loud and not as unfamiliar as a rattle. Metal hitting metal nearby. You took one look around this oddly designed kitchen, glaring at the absurdly sized monkeys near the corner next to a sink, and then began to follow the continuous sounds of machinery.

Thank God the sound was coming from the dark blue room, only a few steps away. It was easy on the eyes, and there weren’t any annoying, buzzing lights. The weirdest thing about this room was the leafless trees and the square well(?) at the center of the room.

And the person building a machine on top of it.

The sounds halted for a moment as you met eyes with the man. He looked stunned to see you standing in the threshold, as if he had never seen another Robloxian before.

“Um… Hi,” you finally say, waving a hand. He blinks and shakes his head, and you watch as he fidgets with the hammer in his hand.

“C'mere, kid,” he sighs, “I can't stop workin’, so you'll just have'ta listen.” He motioned to you.

Kid? You thought, looking down at yourself, then at him. Okay, now that you were getting a closer look at him, he did look older than you. But you weren't about to ask how old a stranger was.

You moved closer since you really didn't have much to do or lose from doing this.

“Yer probably a bit confused. Wonderin’ how ya got here, right?” He spoke while continuing to work on the machine. Pieces were practically materializing out of thin air, connecting and melding together into some sort of turret.

He was either a crazy skilled magician or one hell of a builder.

“Kinda… I, uh, woke up under a table?” You phrased your words more like a question rather than a statement. The man looked over at you, a quizzical look on his face, before realization dawned on him, a realization you supposedly weren't going to know, as he did not share it with you.

“There's a lot to tell ya, but I'm gonna need to keep it short for now, so,” he stood right as the machine whirred to life, “there's a…a killer nearby. Ya gotta avoid it at all costs. There's people too, friendlies, they'll help ya out if yer in trouble.”

You were watching this man's expressions as he spoke, and something told you there was more to what he was saying. Of course, duh! Your mind, ever the cheerleader, chipped in; he literally just said he needed to keep things short!

“Uh, so…heh,” you couldn't help but let out a light laugh, not on purpose, but this was all too…weird, “is this like…a weird skit? Are we LARPing or something?”

He stepped off the square well, stepped to the side of it, and sighed, “no, no, I assure ya this is all real.” He turned to look at each doorway in the blue room, then returned his attention back to you, “trust me fer now. Please? I promise ya a better explanation soon…just…there's a lot at stake here.”

This man was being very…cryptic. You nodded slowly, though, giving him an odd glance. Sure, you'd go along with it for now. He could easily sense your suspicion; you were sure of this.

Yet, there was no chance to make a comment on this as a second rattle reached your ears. You were sure it wasn't just you hearing this noise because the man in front of you reacted as well, taking a few steps back, then forward again after a few seconds.

“That noise there is what the killer makes sometimes. He throws a shockwave of some kind that phases through walls at us,” he visibly shuddered, eyes scrunched, “makes ya feel like yer on fire for a few seconds, and yer vision goes a bit cloudy.”

What? You wanted to say. You've never heard of a monster doing such a thing before. Not that you've seen a monster in the first place.

You picked up the sound of footsteps over the occasional whir of the turret becoming louder, and the man whose name you still haven't caught only heard them a second or two before this newcomer came stumbling into the blue room from a room on your left.

“B-Builderman!” The voice, somewhat panicked, came from a yellow-toned Robloxian, who looked a bit stunned at the sight of you, “a-and…um, company…”

“Hey,” you gave a wave, trying to ignore the sudden name-dropping of the Robloxian you were speaking to. They were…not in good shape, it seemed. They were holding onto a bleeding arm, staggering forward.

“Dispenser 's this way,” Builderman motioned toward another room, this one larger and brighter, “yer comin’ too.”

Well, guess yer comin’ too.

You followed slowly, pursing your lips at the obnoxiously patterned flooring and the use of bright and cheery wallpaper. Dark blue walls and thick, yellow pillars made up the rest of the room's decoration aside from a large stage and a…ball pit.

Much to your disappointment, the ball pit had only a jpeg of colorful, plastic balls on the floor, but you were more interested in the machine at the center of the playpen, and the one that looked just like the boxish machine you saw after crawling out from under a table.

“This'll heal ya up if yer ever injured,” Builderman patted the metal device gently as it whirred quietly. The other Robloxian moved close to it and practically collapsed next to it. There was another cut on their side, ripping their blue shirt.

It looked painful.

Real.

You awkwardly met their eyes, but they were the first to pull their gaze away, “a-are they…new?”

Builderman nodded, humming while crossing his arms, “interestin’ that ya appeared during a match. Usually newcomers pop up near the forest, or we get some sorta warnin’...”

So they weren't expecting you. That didn't bother you much because you were used to things going wrong. Some things in your life you had no control over; it was laughable how Lady Luck seemed to turn away at your pleas for just a normal day.

“Noob, who's distractin’ the killer right now?”

Noob, the one with both a frazzled look and hair, glanced over at Builderman.

“W-well, uh… Last I saw it w-was Guest and Shedletsky. E-Elliot was near them t-too, just in case they got injured..”

There were a lot of names, and only one of them was familiar in the way that everyone knew him. You thought it was odd, because you knew a lot of people where you lived, even the bad ones.

You opted not to bother them at this time and instead investigated the machine that was running near the Dispenser. It was dull and scraped up, but you noticed open hatches on the side of the machine. Wires, tangled and frayed, stuck out of the compartment.

“Ah, yeah, left that generator fer someone else to work on…” Builderman murmured, bringing a hand up to run up his forehead, lifting a bit of his hair and his hat, “guess they never got to it.”

He let out a sigh, looked off to where the three of you came from, then back to you and Noob.

“I'm gonna try to go help the others. If ya get that gen done and we run down time just a lil’ more, we'll be back ‘nd safe.” Builderman met your eyes for a moment, then turned his attention to Noob, “can ya teach ‘em the ropes?”

Noob, who was slowly looking better than before, looked a little surprised. They scrambled to their feet, looking between you, Builderman, and the generator.

“You’ll be fine, jus’ show ‘em how it’s done,” Builderman stepped over and patted a hand on Noob’s shoulder. He gave you a small salute with two fingers, turned, and hurried off.

Noob turned their head quickly to you, eyes once meeting yours, darting down and away, focusing on the generator before quietly walking over to it and kneeling down. You did the same, except at the center of the generator while they knelt on your right.

“So, um… Y-you have to connect the wires… Th-the colors match, so all y-you have to do is make sure they d-don’t overlap with the other wires...” Noob explained, fiddling with a red wire in their left hand, “i-if the combination is too, um, difficult…you can just close the latch and o-open it again.”

You looked down at the wires in the square compartment down in front of you, then over at Noob at the mention of closing and opening the latch. They shrank under your questioning gaze.

“I-it resets the pattern, w-we don’t know why…or how…”

That was definitely a little strange, but nothing you were too concerned about as you pulled a red wire around the node of a yellow one, reaching the other red wire. You felt a small buzz between your fingers as it attached itself in place, leaving you with a small sense of satisfaction.

You did this three more times, the act of rearranging the wires growing a little addicting, and maybe even dulling your senses to what was happening around you, because Noob suddenly grabbed you by the arm and ripped you away from the generator as a rattling sound just made it to your ears.

A flash of green moved straight through the wall you were previously kneeling against, running through the ground until it disappeared far to your left. It, thankfully, did not touch the Dispenser. However, there was a small, tingling feeling that ran up your right leg.

“What was that?” You turned your head to them, blinking quickly at the sight of Noob looking a bit panicked. Their eyes darted from your leg to your eyes, and then away.

“The-, um… The killer knows we're here.”

That sentence left you with a dreadful feeling you hadn't felt in a long time.

There was a strange beating in your heart, which made you think you had a small adrenaline rush, or maybe heartburn. Yet, a quick glance at Noob told you that they, too, were feeling this uneasy tug in their chest.

Then, you could hear it, heavy footfalls just beyond the walls of the fake ballpit, stomping closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Noob grabbed your arm and hurried up the slope on your right, which led to a short flight of stairs that would lead the two of you towards…a stage of some kind. This place was weird.

But what was even weirder was the strange, black, and green figure right on the two of your heels. You had taken a glance behind you, just because that dreadful feeling wasn't going away, and you were feeling as anxious as ever.

Were those fucking swords?!

“R-run!” Noob ushered you to continue on your own, pushing you gently forward as a swing of one of the swords forced the two of you apart.

Was this the monster that Builderman was talking about earlier?

They looked humanoid with a pitch-black head, arms, and legs, and with a somewhat translucent, green torso which showed off a dark ribcage.

You began to move even faster when the sword-wielding person glanced in your direction, his zipper-like mouth curling into what you could only describe as a grin. You don't know what kind of expression you were wearing, but you knew exactly how you felt.

Prey.

Instinctively, you lunged to the side as two swords came flying at your face, slicing at the air, a hair’s length away from your head. You could hear something sizzle, and even though your curiosity begged for a look, you couldn’t be bothered to stay in one place.

Your legs felt heavy as you practically stumbled back into the kitchen, where you first woke up. There was intelligible shouting coming from a close distance behind you, but the pounding in your head muffled all those voices.

Something, no, someone appeared suddenly on your right, knocking you sideways with his body as a screech of metal creaked louder over the sound of your heartbeat.

“Left me for easy pickings, huh?” You glanced back to see a man with brown, curly hair meeting swords with the creature-person that was chasing you. He looked messed up, scratches along his arms, his face, a nasty cut running from his shoulder to the bend of his neck. You were unsure how he was even standing.

“Out of my way,” the dual-wielder growled. You recalled the danger of being chased and hurried off once again into a quick sprint towards the closest opening, which led you into a large courtyard of sorts.

The clangs and cries of swords clashing behind you encouraged you to keep moving, because, realistically, you wouldn’t dare try to fight someone who looked like they could rise from the ground and drag you six feet under.

Although the fear of death was very real, you weren’t prepared for the chime of a grandfather clock to echo in the air, stirring you from your thoughts.

Your eyes began to swim with unfocused colors and shapes, until you felt the need to sit back and ignore the pain in your right leg.

There were people next to you now, of all shapes and colors, leaning back against wooden chairs or forward on the table as if they had just run a full marathon. You sat next to Noob, someone you recognized, and that curly-haired dude with the sword. He looked the most worn out

But you felt it. The warmth running down your leg and the pain it brought as more and more warmth soaked that specific area. Your brows knitted together, and you glanced down, vision growing hazy.

Red. So much red, dripping on the floor underneath you. You mumbled something, and the world tipped, your body colliding backward against something. The floor, probably? Yeah, the floor.

The light above you looked too bright, but shadows crowded you quickly, and voices, too. Too many voices and sounds were muffled. Cotton plugged your ears.

“Elliot!” Someone called for an Elliot.

A blob of blacks and greys muddled together. A pair of warm hands grabbed and lifted you from the floor, at least enough so you could sit up. But it felt so good lying down!

“Hey, hey, stay with me now,” that same hand patted the side of your face, which felt sweaty and cool, but you knew everything felt warm in that moment. Just like the smell of pizza growing closer and the taste of cheese on your tongue.

It tasted good. You felt good. And…and…

Your vision focused very slowly. The ringing in your ears wasn’t as painful, and the cloud in your brain had lifted just enough so you could think rational thoughts.

There were people. You remembered. Builderman knelt on your right, a curly-haired boy next to him, and then a blue-haired man on your left. Others lingered, obviously drawn to the spectacle of your nearly bleeding out at their dinner table, but you weren’t embarrassed by it—you were mortified.

Builderman’s hand came to your shoulder, patting reassuringly, “you alright?” His voice was hushed, and your gaze zeroed in on him. Slowly, you nodded, then swallowed down the remnant taste of cheese that clung to your taste buds. Pizza.

Your eyes slowly drifted to your leg where you swore it was bleeding earlier. Like, you were certain you were dying just a second ago. You had that movie-moment sway and fall and everything!

“What…” You trailed off, not finding it hard to speak, but because heads turned to the stranger in the room, “what happened?”

You wouldn’t say, “where am I?” even though it was killing you not knowing where you were for a second time. You only asked because you truthfully had no idea what the hell was going on.

“You collapsed, bleedin’ from the leg. 1x got ya…somehow,” Builderman glanced sideways, as if he was trying to remember a moment where you could’ve gotten hit that badly.

“B-but, we were just in, like, this giant area one moment and now…” You cursed yourself for stammering, but you couldn’t help it. You believed you were in disbelief, unable to actually wrap your brain around what was happening.

Too much was happening.

“Hey, easy,” the man on your left, the one dressed like he was prepared for war, placed a hand on your upper arm, “breathe. You’re safe here.”

“Nothing’s going to hurt you here,” the boy who stood near Builderman offered a faint smile.

Even though your heart began to relax and your unease started to wash away, you still felt a familiar sense of dread you’d hadn’t felt in a long while.

“C’mon, let’s get you on your feet.” Builderman and the blue-haired stranger looped their arms underneath your shoulders to help you up, keeping their grip steady until you found your footing and were told to take another bite of pizza.

You didn’t deny the free meal.

You tested your weight on your once-injured leg once Builderman and the other man released you. It was as if nothing had happened to it in the first place—save for the blood soaking the area where the skin was cut underneath.

Only now did you notice the many eyes that watched you, most curious, some nervous, a few filled with pity or indiscernible.

“I tried givin’ them a small explanation in the round, but they don’t fully know what’s happenin’ yet,” Builderman said to the general group in the room.

“Wait,” the curly-haired man from earlier—Shedletsky—stopped mid-chew with a chicken leg in hand, “they appeared in the round?”

“D0N’T N3W SURVIV0RS USUALLY SP4WN SOM3WHERE NEAR TH3 CAB1N FIR5T?” A feminine, bit-crushed voice spoke next, which your eyes darted to. A robot girl sat at a booth table, taking up most of the space on one of the booths.

“Which is why that’s so odd…” Builderman murmured, the others sending you glances of confusion, concern, and… Oh. Suspicion.

Even though you didn’t know too much about what was going on, you knew that whatever was the norm here didn’t apply to you.

“I wouldn’t think about it too much,” you said, head lowering, “whatever is ‘supposed to happen’ to me, probably won’t.”

The Admin closest to you gave you an odd look, as did some of the others.

A whistle rang in the air, a tune somewhat familiar to your ears. It scratched at your brain and made your brows tense together in a matter of seconds. That whistle was paired with some footsteps, until they stopped to your far right—a person, but you couldn’t see with the large frame of the blue-haired soldier next to you.

“The round’s over already?”

Your heart sank as the even more familiar voice caused emotions to stir within your stomach, a select few surfacing slowly.

“Ended a while ago, Chance,” Builderman answered his question quickly, then returned his attention to you, “now what’d you mean about—”

Strength returned to your body, and you pushed past the soldier to your left so you could see Chance. Whistle, voice, name, face. It was so clear in front of you.

You saw the flash of surprise, then recognition behind those sunglasses, then- you hit him. A punch on his jaw that made your hand throb with dull pain.

But that pain was nothing to the memories that brought back so much more.

Chapter Text

Things were more of a blur this time than when you were bleeding out onto the floor.

You had managed to topple Chance off his feet and land another blow on the same side of his face before you were dragged off of him. You remembered hot tears in your eyes, and you remembered shouting something to him that made your throat sore, before you were dragged up some stairs.

The room you were in now was clean and tidy, like nobody had been living in it. You were pretty sure the soldier was the one who pulled you off and brought you upstairs, but you weren’t sure.

You weren’t sure of anything anymore, just the pain in your skull and your hands.

Even so, you got yourself comfortable, sitting on the single bed shoved in the far corner of the room, cradling your aching hands as if you weren’t the one who swung on Chance, your former friend, first.

“I can’t believe he’s here…” You murmured aloud, lips tightening into a frown, eyes narrowing to the ground.

Light bled into the room as the door to it opened slowly. Two figures stepped in, at least one stepped in, the other floated.

Two Admins, you realized.

You only knew the other was an Admin by the way he carried himself, and because of the information you knew from your previous life.

Dusekkar hovered a few inches above the ground near Builderman, having to angle his pumpkin head down due to the doorway being unaccommodating for his height and the antlers attached to his head. He held a staff in one hand, the object long and engraved with runes.

Builderman said your name, which snapped your attention forward. Did you ever give him your name? How did he know?

“Please explain what just happened out in the dinin’ room,” he stood, arms crossed, tired eyes narrowed down at you, “we usually don’t go swingin’ fists upon first meetin’ each other.”

You fidgeted, thumb running across one knuckle, pressing on a particularly sore spot that kept your mind present.

“I have history with them. That’s all.”

“That ain’t good enough,” he was quick to snap back.

Dusekkar’s free hand placed on Builderman’s shoulder as he hovered forward, “no need to tell us every thread of the tale. Just give us the gist, skip the long-winded trail.”

He…rhymed? You had to take a moment to process the sorcerer’s words.

Dusekkar wanted you to…tell him and Builderman some details, but not everything. You could keep the darker ones to yourself, the ones you really didn’t want to share.

The ones you had trouble sharing.

You began to choose your words carefully, “I…I knew them. Before all of…this,” you motioned around you, the cabin, towards the dark window that looked over a cluster of trees, “we were friends, but…”

Your expression soured; you knew this, but you couldn’t help it.

“I warned them! I told them not to-to trust that guy! And when I…when he calls again, he’s being hunted down by the mafia?!” Your voice trembled, raising slightly, as the anger from earlier bubbled in your blood. Everything felt so vibrant and real all of a sudden.

You didn’t know why you were saying these things, but it felt right to finally get it out of your system, even if the Admins had no clue what most of what you said meant.

Speaking of them, they looked…as you expected, concerned and confused. There was something so entirely sad about this situation.

“Alright, alright, take a breath,” Builderman exhaled loudly, one of his hands coming back to rub the back of his shoulder, “so ya have some history with Chance, huh? That hasn’t happened in a while…”

You straightened just slightly on the bed, meeting his eyes, “what do you mean?”

Your whisper made his face tighten.

“Others here have ties that bind, linked to hearts they’ve long misaligned.” Dusekkar’s rhymes were making only a little sense now; you could only assume that other people knew each other from where they came from, too.

“It’s uncommon, but not impossible,” Builderman muttered, but loud enough so you and Dusekkar could both hear him, “just… If ya can, try an’ get along with him? They didn’t… Chance didn’t want me t’come up here and talk to ya anyway.”

Your lips drew inward, and your eyes dropped to the floor. Even after that? After you punched him twice, they didn’t want you to get in trouble?

“You should come down when yer ready and meet some of the others. Bad impressions leave lastin’ impressions,” those were his final words to you before he left the room, Dusekkar hovering in tow.

Bad impressions leave lasting impressions.

You definitely left a lasting impression on a few downstairs.

Sighing, you flopped back against the bed, sighing louder at the stiffness below. The mattress wasn’t soft, but it wasn’t stone either. Still, you couldn’t fall asleep, not with all these thoughts, memories, and events plaguing your mind.

You pushed yourself back up and stood, but frowned when you felt your pant leg rubbing stiffly against your leg. Right. Dried blood. Thank 2x2, the bland dresser had exact copies of the clothes you were wearing—totally not creepy! But it was the best you had right now, so, begrudgingly, you took out a pair of folded jeans and stripped yourself of the bloodied ones and changed into the new ones.

With nowhere to place the other pants, you decided to just fold them and place them on the top of the dresser to deal with later.

I really don’t want to do this, you thought with a small frown as you pulled open the door to the room, which led out into a long hallway. There were other doors too, each with a small, silver plaque against the door with a name inscribed onto it. You glanced a bit left, at your own door, and saw the same had been done to you.

That’s why Builderman knew your name.

You inhaled slowly and began your slow walk down the hall, counting the doors as you went and reading the names placed upon them. The door across from you was inhabited by someone named V33-R4-01-N33-7K, and your room neighbor was Dusekkar.

Then, it went as follows: Chance and Taph. Guest 1337 and Two Time. 007n7 (the hacker???) and Builderman. Elliot and Noob. Then Shedletsky and… A blank room. You tried the handle, spotted clean, white tile, and then closed it. A bathroom.

The end of the hallway led out to an inside balcony where a few beanbags sat unoccupied to your left, surrounding a low-standing table. To your right, there was a taller table with a blank TV sitting against the wall. It was one of those older ones that didn’t require an outlet, but were a pain to use.

Even though you weren’t close to the railing of the balcony, you could hear the quiet chatter of people below. Technically, you didn’t have to go down there; it wasn’t like Builderman ordered you to come down anyway. And, even if he did, it wasn’t like he was the boss of you! What was he going to do, use his Admin power and ban you?

…Could he ban you? You were dead, after all.

You mindlessly drifted to the left and sat yourself down in one of the beanbags, which sank under your weight.

What even was this place? It was clear to you now that you knew jack shit about the exact location and predicament. Maybe if you had waited a bit longer, you could’ve gotten a bit of information before punching Chance.

You shook your head at the thought. You were sure you’d do the same thing again if time were reversed.

“0H!” A somewhat familiar bit-crushed voice reached your ears, and you spotted the owner of said voice quickly. It was the TV-head girl from earlier. Her pink screen rippled, a happy emoticon flickering across her face as she approached quickly.

“Y0U DO1NG OK4Y? TH4T WA5 PRETTY R0UGH EARL1ER!” She tilted her head, her roundish eyes drooping, but a smile remained on the screen.

“Oh, uhm,” you fidgeted with your hands and nodded, “yeah, yeah, I’m alright.”

“M4N! Y0U W3R3 EVEN QUICK3R THAN ELLI0T USING HI5 RU5H H0UR! 1 HARDLY S4W 1T COMING!” Her laugh was a mixture of static and high-pitched buzzes. It wasn’t as grating as you would’ve once thought, “Y0U CAN C4LL ME V33 BY THE W4Y!”

V33- Vee. The one who owned the room across from yours. You attempted a smile and gave her your name in return. She looked elated (at least from what you could tell on her screen).

“HA5 ANY0NE TOLD YOU TH3 BASICS Y3T?” Vee tilted her head to the other side.

You squeezed your right hand with your left, almost forgetting that they were still sore, “no, uh… Not really, I think,” Builderman only helped you out that one time, so you weren’t too sure what she meant. A short sound of static echoed from wherever her voicebox was.

“4LRIGHT. THEN 1’LL HELP Y0U OUT! I WA5 THE NEWBI3 BEFORE YOU, Y’KN0W?” Her mouth curled on screen, almost resembling a three, “IT’5…KINDA 4 LOT. AND 4 BIT SC4RY, BUT IT’5 NOT L1KE WE C4N D0 ANYTHING ABOUT 1T!”

Her words, mixed with the chipper voice in which she spoke them, did not give you a good feeling.

And you were right to think that way.

Vee told you that this place was technically like another plane of existence, but still in Roblox. A purgatory where you were forced to play cat and mouse games, all for the pleasure of The Spectre. You nearly laughed at the name, but Vee looked panicked at your near scoff.

“IT KN0WS 4 LOT,” she said in a quiet voice, one that made your blood run cold, “THING5 YOU W0ULDN’T WANT 4NYONE T0 KNOW.”

In other words, don’t laugh at the otherworldly creature. Got it.

Even though you were in this personal hell, you were granted abilities unique to the traits or skills you had in Robloxia. Vee showed off her skateboard with as much enthusiasm as a child getting a Limited item for Christmas.

“I won’t have anything special,” you told her after she asked about what things you were good at. But then you corrected yourself, “does projecting bad luck onto others count?”

Nobody laughed.

She returned to her previous explanation about cat and mouse games. There were entities, creatures, myths—killers in this realm, too. Vee explained that the one you went up against was 1x1x1x1—the 1x1x1x1.

For a moment, you weren’t going to believe her, but, at this point, there was nothing you couldn’t believe.

“USU4LLY THERE’5 0NLY ONE R0UND PER D4Y,” Vee leaned forward, crossing her arms on her knees, “S0MET1MES TWO, BUT 1T’S PR3TTY RARE. AND TH3 SURVIVOR5 WHO PART1CIPAT3D IN THE R0UND BEFORE D0N’T HAV3 TO A S3C0ND TIME!”

And, apparently, you didn’t have to eat.

“But…I had a pizza?” You questioned, wondering if that was just a figment of your imagination. Vee waved you off with two up arrows as eyes.

“TH4T’S JU5T ELLI0T’S HEAL1NG PIZZA. IT HE4LS Y0U DURING AND 0UTSIDE OF THE R0UNDS. AND…UH, WH4T I M3AN IS…Y0U DON’T H4VE TO E4T. Y0U DON’T G3T HUNGRY 0R FULL H3R3, APPARENTLY.”

You stared at her for a moment, lips pursing. But…she was a robot. You’d only assume that others told her or spoke about it in the open. So, you nodded, soaking in the information like a sponge.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, listening to the sounds of life below. It was somewhat uneasy, though, feeling alive and knowing that others were here with you while understanding that you had certainly died.

That bullet went through your head.

There was movement next to you; Vee sat up from her place on the other beanbag and gave you a pixelated smile.

“1’LL BE RIGHT B4CK, ‘K4Y?”

You watched her quickly head over to the stairs and descend them, her TV head disappearing after the halfway point. Something squirmed nervously in your gut, the feeling similar to when a child would lose their mom in a store. Vee had been the first welcoming person to actually give you a helpful explanation of all this. Even though Builderman was there for you at the start, he didn’t exactly give you the details of how this all worked.

You couldn’t blame him; things were probably stressful. They probably always were stressful if he was put into those constant loops, just like you were to be in the future. And, you couldn’t blame him for reprimanding you earlier, even though it brought a little satisfaction to see the look of hurt and shock across Chance’s face.

A dark figure moved up the stairs, catching your eye. Your thoughts paused just as they did upon seeing you. A dark hood covering an even darker face. The edges of the fabric were embroidered with gold.

The stranger moved again, towards the long hallway, but gave you a small wave as a greeting. A small breath of relief left your lips as you offered a smile and a wave in return as they disappeared down the hall.

Not a minute later, you saw the familiar pink shape of Vee’s head rise from the bend of the stairs, followed by Elliot and…

Chance.

You pulled your attention away, your chest tightening while Vee approached you quickly.

“S33? L00K AT THE1R HANDS!” She knelt by your bean bag and slipped a gloved, metal palm underneath your hand. Your eyes fell on your knuckles, where you saw the skin a bit ripped raw, not bloody, but it’d be enough to scar if you let it go long enough.

Elliot, the pizza boy, gave a quiet inhale as he knelt at the other side of your beanbag, a pizza on a paper plate being offered quickly. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the third presence lingering a good few arm-lengths away in front of you, flipping his coin like you hadn’t bruised both his face and ego minutes ago.

“Might be a good thing that they’re a hard hitter,” Chance’s joking tone caused your teeth to clench hard on the first bite of pizza, “y’know, what if they’re a sentinel? Felt like one of Guest’s punches!”

It was a hard swallow. The cheese slid down your throat agonizingly slow.

How could you say that? You wanted to spit out, after I just punched you? After you suddenly showed your face…here?

“Chance…” Elliot sighed, disappointed more than disapproving.

“What? ‘M just sayin’,” you didn’t have to raise your head; you could hear the grin in their tone. “Pretty sure they hit harder than most killers.”

You placed the pizza back on the paper plate and practically forced it back into Elliot’s hands, murmuring something about not needing it anymore, or being full, even though you were just told it wasn’t really possible.

Quickly, you stood, your brows tensing when you saw Chance in your peripheral, even though you were trying your damndest to keep them away. Out of sight, out of mind, but it was so hard when he kept spouting jokes like nothing had happened.

Something defeated left your mouth again, “gonna…head back to my room,” you murmured, head down as you nearly staggered away, breaths growing short as you kept your gaze trained on the door settled at the very end.

It just had to be at the very end. In the dark corner of the hall, surrounded by people you didn’t know and didn’t want to see. The familiar print of your name felt so strange to you now more than ever. How much did The Spectre know? How long was it until you were tormented until you broke?

“Hey–” Chance’s voice pulled at your mind, closer than you would’ve liked. Your hand quickly jerked out to grab the handle of your door, nearly freezing in place when they said your name, “wait, please. I just–”

There was ringing in your ears, and you weren’t sure if it was your brain creating that noise to block out his words and presence, or the sound of something more ominous. Your breathing caught as the wood in front of you warped, the engraving of your name becoming unintelligible.

You turned your head, which was a grave mistake, as you saw the lineless form of Chance standing in the dark of the hall with you before your eyes forcefully tightened together, and the scenery changed.

The air was cold, and there was a brief sound of organ keys and the chirp of some sort of creature, before you were left to gather your bearings.

Maybe you much preferred waking up unconscious in a round rather than being tossed blindly into one. At least it wouldn’t make you nearly lose your metaphorical lunch.

Chapter Text

This was strange.

Even though these things were somewhat explained to you before, you still weren't used to this yet. Who could blame you? This intense, dizzy warp in reality placed you outside a giant mansion shrouded in red right after those strange sounds reached your ears.

Currently, you stand at the center of a gazebo, looking out over a large, garden-like area. It was caged in by large, brick walls decorated with tall, metal points. There was a large fountain at the center of the area you were looking at, surrounded by trimmed hedges in square brick boxes.

You could see people moving around the fountain, someone running further past it, and in between two hedges and into the opening of the large mansion. Your eyes were having trouble adjusting to all the red that the scenery was drenched in, so you didn’t even notice the presence next to you.

“What gifts has The Spawn blessed you with?

The voice was unfamiliar, like most voices in this place, but theirs was almost like a whisper with a soft rasp. You turned slowly, glancing down to look at them, crouched low to the ground.

They had messy hair and wore a dark blue robe with patterned edges and even darker clothes. Their eyes were obscured somewhat by messy, black hair.

“I’m sorry?” You didn’t know who The Spawn was. The only thing you could piece together was that they could be referring to The Spectre.

Slowly, they stood, and only then did you notice the knife in their gloved hands, held with the blade pointing downwards. They were on the shorter side and gave an eerie smile as you glanced across your body for something that could’ve changed about you, like an item in your pockets, or something lying nearby.

“I don’t have anything,” you finally said with a confused shrug.

They hummed for a moment, peering closely at you, “I was once like you, without a blade to defend myself,” their eyes grew bright for a moment, that smile on their face growing a bit wider, “perhaps…if you were to devote yourself to the almighty Spawn, you too will be blessed with a second life.”

The Spawn, a second life, devoting yourself… This all sounded like some sort of religious nonsense. Were you being indoctrinated? In a place like this?

Before you could properly form an answer, there was a quick approach of footsteps to your left, coming from… Shedletsky—the Admin. You’d seen him during the round, the one against 1x1x1x1, saved by him, actually. He still had his sword in a tight grip.

He looked the same as before, covered in a few cuts, but now munching on a piece of chicken like this wasn’t a life or death situation.

“Two Time, need to tap out. You got this,” he gave the shorter Robloxian a small pat on their shoulder, but you were more entranced by the fact that Shedletsky’s wounds were healing just by a mere piece of poultry.

Two Time stared for a moment longer, their smile unfaltering, then nodded and snuck off, their movements quick and quiet. Shedletsky gave a small sigh and glanced over at you, then gave an aloof grin.

“Don’t worry about them, just…try and forget about what they said,” Shedletsky then tossed the chicken bone off onto the grass and motioned for you to follow, “Builder’s told you the ropes, right? Gotta find some gens to do while I wait for my cooldown.”

“Cooldown?” You echoed in genuine confusion while trailing after the Admin.

“With our abilities, we can only use ‘em so many times,” he pointed to his wrist, “check your wrist like you’re checkin’ the time.”

You did as he said and frowned at the sight of a red bar below a timer that was ticking down from three minutes. It was transparent, not tattooed to your skin, like a pop-up that wouldn’t go away.

“The white circles tell you what skills have a cooldown.” He said as the two of you walked through a curved archway into a spacious library. The floors were hardwood, covered by lavish, crimson rugs.

But you weren’t focused on how decorated this room was, only that there were no white circles anywhere on your wrist. You made that known to the Admin, who gave you an incredulous look.

“You sure?” It looked like he wanted to check himself with the way his eyes darted down to your wrist, “like, seriously? Nothing?”

There was a small, lifted platform in the library with two sets of stairs on either side and a decorative, wooden railing on the edge. It wasn’t that big of a fall, though. You could probably climb up and over the railing if you tried. On the platform itself was a generator. Instinctively, you started listening for any rattle-snake-like sounds in the distance.

“Nothing,” you confirmed. He moved quietly for a few seconds, then ran a hand through his curly hair, only now processing your words to their fullest.

“Alright. Alright, you might just be a special case or somethin’. We’ll figure it out back at the cabin,” it took Shedletsky one step to get to the top of the elevated platform, skipping the stairs, “find gens like these and run down the time if you can. Avoid the killer…and, uh, don’t die.”

You nodded slowly, kneeling next to the generator like you had done back in the ball pit. The wires were different colors, but tangled together just the same. You began undoing the knots and tangles, rewiring like it was something you’d been doing for years.

“Right, cooldown’s over,” Shedletsky stood while speaking, stretched, then adjusted his grip on the sword, “gonna go help out. You got this?”

His words struck a bit of confidence in you, but also a feeling of doubt.

Even so, you answered, “yeah. I got this,” fiddling nervously with the wires, hopefully not getting them tangled again. You didn’t watch him go, only listened to his footsteps as they faded in the background.

Now that you were alone, you had some time to collect yourself while doing the generator in front of you.

Easier said than done—collecting yourself meant acknowledging that this was reality. This was real, and you were going to experience this for the rest of your life. Yet, how could that be? You died.

You died. And you were still here.

Your mind brought up the others; how did they end up here? Were they also dead? That must’ve been the case, right? But you were certain you’d hear about an Admin dying, much less three of them. Roblox was good at covering things up, but when the famous Builderman goes missing or the great Shedletsky leaves the public eye, Robloxians ask questions.

The machine sputtered, catching your attention, and soon creaked as it roared to life. The motor within hummed, and you stood, then checked your wrist. The time had gone down since the last time you'd seen it. You helped, even if it was just a little bit.

You walked down the steps slowly and made your way back to the archway that led out into the garden once more and followed the path, but kept your eyes peeled for any unusual faces.

The path parted in one area, reaching over and around the large fountain, while the other part continued straight ahead. Both areas were sectioned off by a long stretch of fence and foliage, but with another short set of stairs that dropped to the path that continued ahead of you.

You were about to walk ahead, but saw a flash of movement behind a red, translucent wall. There was a jumble of bodies, one you recognized clearly as Shedletsky (his appearance was still fresh in your mind), but you weren’t able to catch who else was on the other side.

The mental debate on getting a closer look or not ended quickly when you saw Noob limping not necessarily towards you, but in your direction. Blood stained the grass next to the path around the fountain, and once they spotted you, you hurried over.

“A-are you okay?” You stammered, immediately regretting that question because, of course, they weren’t! Their right arm had a giant gash from shoulder to elbow, something akin to claw marks had torn across their chest, and their blue jeans were adorned with scratches and tears.

Their mouth opened and closed slowly, then a shaky voice came from their throat, “I-I’ll be…okay,” the way they said it didn’t bring you confidence, “j-just need to run d-down time or…or find a medkit.”

“What about Elliot? Is he around?” The sight of blood didn’t make you nauseous, but seeing Noob like this…even though you didn’t know them too well, it made your stomach wrench

They shook their head, “n-not everyone is dragged i-into the rou–”

Something whistled into the air, pierced Noob’s back, and they fell forward.

Your mouth dropped, just as Noob’s body hit the ground in a pool of their own blood. A red hook was embedded into their back and was then yanked out of their flesh, back towards the attacker.

The killer—at least that’s what you could only (correctly) assume was a killer—looked to be a man hovering off the ground, his skin dark, but eyes a glowing blood red behind a mask. His clawed hand curled deftly around the chain before it vanished into thin, red smoke.

He wore a notable black cape, a striped, red shirt with a black suit vest over it, and dark dress pants. Your eyes darted to his face again, staring wide-eyed at his eyes that took your appearance in like you were just a pest. And…were those ears?

Oh, oh, fuck, he was a vampire.

“A new face,” his voice rumbled in your ears, but you weren’t put off by the fact that he could speak, just that he didn’t seem happy to see you. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

Your eyes fall down to Noob’s body once again, and then to where their items lay scattered in front of them. A slateskin potion, a ghostburger, and a Bloxy Cola.

Quickly, you dropped and scooped the items into your hands, letting out a shocked sound at the squeak and squeal of bats flying right by your ears. Wet blood stained your fingers and the cuffs of your shirt, but you darted to the right, towards the gazebo, as the vampire took chase.

“You Robloxians always run from the inevitable,” he sounded close; too close. You hurried over to the gazebo, running behind it rather than inside, and then turned to find him directly on the other side, “rather than draw this out any longer, why don’t you submit yourself to me? It ends the same way.”

Damn. This guy had an ego.

Your face scrunched up, to which he scowled. Just as you strafed left, he pulled his cape to the front of him with his arm. A terrifying noise met your ears as the vampire appeared in the corner of your vision, crossing in front of you with a bright trail following after. Then, he disappeared, and a dull explosion hit your back. It tickled, and your legs felt a bit heavy, but it brought no pain.

You didn’t stop, even as a sound of anger and confusion erupted behind you. You hurried into the safety of the library that you regretted leaving, and felt your heart leap at the sight of the familiar robot girl peaking out from behind a bookshelf. Her emoticon face blinked in surprise.

“F0LLOW M3!”

Just for a moment, you looked back and felt the blood in your body run cold at the sight of the hovering killer still following you. You stumbled forward, hurrying after Veeronica, who moved right, into a giant foyer of sorts, fit for a mansion of this size.

Pillars lined the medieval-like mansion, a long, red rug trailing down the steps and towards the front archway. A grand set of stairs sat against the wall, bridging right and left, with doorways placed underneath both.

Vee was already up the stairs, calling your name, urging you to move faster, climb the steps, and reach safety. You wanted to. You wanted to move faster, to get to safety, to be anywhere but here, but your legs were tired, you were tired, everything felt heavy.

And you knew who was behind you.

“Pathetic.”

You were about to brace for pain as your steps just reached the start of the stairs, but were surprised to find warmth enveloping you instead. It was like a warm hug from a cloud in the shape of a crystal snowglobe around your body.

This orb cast from above allowed you to find the strength you needed to dart up the stairs, but the killer followed, only for Vee to hop on a skateboard and knock both her and the killer down the stairs. You nearly laughed at the sight, if it weren’t for the fact that the killer was in hearing distance.

“I’ll dismantle you, you bucket of bolts!” The vampire snarled, recovering quickly and chasing after the robot girl who let out an electric laugh—one you couldn’t help but grin at.

“Quite amazing how quick you are to know, being able to adapt is no easy foe.” Dusekkar’s rhyming words reached your ears, coming from one of the second-story areas. Standing at the top of the first flight of stairs, you noticed the hovering Admin on the left side when you faced the front of the foyer, so you climbed the stairs on the left.

“It…it wasn’t easy..” You murmured in response, a flash of Noob’s body falling forward crossing your mind.

Dusekkar moved closer to you, his robes nearly brushing the ground, creating a wistful-like appearance. You truly wondered if he was incapable of speaking ‘normally’.

You glanced up at him and only now noticed that he was looking at the items in your grasp. The ones you had picked up from Noob. Your heart skipped a beat, and you held them a bit firmer.

“Familiar items catch my eye. Are you a thief, or do you care to tell me why?” Dusekkar didn’t sound accusatory, but his words were curious and cautious.

Builderman’s voice rang in your head—bad impressions leave lasting impressions.

“I-I just… They died. Right in front of me. And they dropped them, so I just thought…” You so badly wanted to motion and talk with your hands, but they were full with the slateskin potion in your right hand, the ghostburger in your left, and the cola tucked under your right arm.

There was a crackling noise that echoed from Dusekkar’s form. He tapped his staff on the ground and pulled his gaze away. It seemed that something was swirling around in his head, just as something was plaguing you.

Yet, before either of you could speak, there was a tolling of a bell ringing in the air, then the sound of a clock began ticking down. You looked to your wrist with the hand that held the ghostburger and saw the clock had run down to just mere seconds.

“I must leave to pave the way, so that the others can thrive another day,” Dusekkar hovered away from you and to the edge where the railing parted, leading to a drop you knew wasn’t life-threatening, but it sure would still leave you disoriented.

“Oh,” you looked at his staff, then at the Admin himself, “right. Okay.”

Dusekkar was the one who had cast that shield on you earlier; he was probably a valuable member to have on the team.

As you watched him float forward and then drop down, you realized you hadn’t exactly thanked him for the protection earlier, nor did you thank Vee. It wasn’t like you could thank her since that vampire dude initiated a chase with her immediately after falling down the stairs… But you had been speaking with Dusekkar for a while. You had your chance.

He probably received a lot of thanks from his teammates. So yours wouldn’t make a difference.

Fuck. You shook your head. Why were you thinking that way? Was it this place? Was it that… Spectre? Maybe the thought of your death, and the sight of others dying, was actually getting to you.

You were strong. You could get through this. Nothing was worse than the pain you felt in the last week of your life, so this wouldn’t be so different.

The bell in the air grew louder and louder, until one last tick caused your vision to ripple. You squeezed your eyes tight and accepted the feeling of pain running across your arms and back, and the emptiness where Noob’s items had been.

The presence of other people has never felt better.

Chapter Text

You stare blankly at the cuts and slashes that mark your arms. They’re more of a flesh wound than anything, not actively bleeding, but you’re certain they’ll cause an issue if you're trying to relax, or if anything grazes them, like how your shirt shifts against your back, where more small injuries lie hidden away. It was much better than that gash on your leg.

The others who had been in the round took a moment to breathe at the table, and those who had not were gathered in the kitchen area, at least some of them.

You didn’t see Chance.

“Kinda sucks you don’t have any skills,” Shedletsky, who was sitting next to you, nudged you in a friendly manner on the side, which only caused you to blow air out through your nose.

Elliot, who was just about to place a box of pizza in the center of the table, paused and narrowed his eyes, “rude,” and then placed the box down.

You reached forward to take a slice, a noticeably smaller one, which caught Shedletsky’s attention; or, more specifically, the cuts on your arms, “hey, when’d you get hit?” He was a lot more concerned now than when he made that previous comment.

Some heads turned in your direction, and you shrank back into your chair while bringing the pizza to your lips to take a small nibble. Shedletsky had a naturally loud voice, which you couldn’t fault him for, but when people stared, you couldn’t help but feel hesitant to share.

“Well, I mean… He never really touched me… But there was this big blood explosion or something,” you tried your best to explain, feeling heat rush up your neck at the absurd description, but there were no odd looks or confused faces—they knew what you were talking about all too well, “it didn’t do anything, though.”

“It definitely did something, though,” Elliot frowned, motioning slightly to the wounds marking your arms and hands. You took another bite in hopes of speeding up the healing process.

“Um… I-in the match against 1x1x1x1, something s-similar happened,” Noob, who was standing near the entrance that led into the living room, spoke up suddenly, “they got hit b-by the mass infection, but nothing h-happened.”

The previous match was easier to recall, and you remembered the moment Noob had explained. That weird sensation running up your leg, and then the gash that it created after the round.

“So…it’s like Dusekkar’s overheal?” Elliot chimed in, to which you tilted your head. You weren’t familiar with healing pizza, and you surely weren’t with the term overheal.

“But we take different amounts of damage with 1x1x1x1's skills and Nosferatu's.” Shedletsky returned to the conversation. Nosferatu… Dracula? So he really was a vampire…

“If I may share a thought, maybe shed a little light. That was not all I witnessed this battle, but a friend's items used right.” Dusekkar tipped his head in your direction, and you immediately knew what he was talking about.

Your eyes flicked over to Noob, then away, “I…after Noob died, there were these items that dropped onto the ground. Like, a ghostburger, a cola, and a slateskin. I picked them up before the killer started to chase me.”

“You picked ‘em up?” Builderman, who had been leaning against one of the wooden support beams near the main table, finally spoke up. Your gaze fell on him, then to Noob, trying to gauge some sort of reaction.

“Um, yeah,” you took another bite of pizza, bigger, hoping for it to ease your nerves and to ease the obligation of having to speak up in front of such an unfamiliar group.

“Did you perhaps adhere to my recommendation?” Two Time, who was sitting diagonally to your left, spoke up this time. It was a surprise to hear them speak, because they had been sitting so quietly at the table that you nearly forgot they were here.

Those who sat next to them, that being Veeronica, nearly jumped, because maybe she too forgot that they existed. Was their presence really that little compared to the others?

You swallowed down your bite and shook your head, “no, um… I just had another thought, though. What if…that is my ability? Being able to pick up other people’s items?”

It didn’t sound impossible. You’d only seen one death so far, which was Noob. It still wasn’t great to think about, having to loot your companion’s corpses for your only chance at survival. In fact, the more you thought about it, the worse you and your stomach felt.

Was it really right to bring it up then?

“WH0A! DO Y0U KNOW H0W TO SK4TEB0ARD?!” Vee leaned forward on the table, her pink screen rippling with excitement.

You did not.

“What about swordfighting?” Shedletsky leaned further back in his chair. You grew worried that he’d hit his head if he fell.

But, you also didn’t know how to swordfight, unless using a wooden sword when you were younger counted.

“I am curious to see, with wonder and view, how my magic would call to you.” Dusekkar rumbled, his blue pumpkin tilting to the side. You could see a flicker of a flame within his carved mouth, but you immediately tore your eyes away lest you be caught staring.

The area was filled with an exchange of voices, both loud and soft. You stood slowly, making sure not to draw too much attention, since you were still unsure if the conversation about your ability was still an ongoing issue or not. Even so, you made your way over to Noob, who noticed your approach almost immediately.

“Hey, um… I just wanted to make sure you were okay?” You asked hesitantly, your voice dying near the end due to how quiet the room grew, even though there still were discussions happening around you.

Noob blinked quickly, and their shoulders raised, but not to shrug, just a small gesture you noticed. Uncomfortable, maybe? You didn’t know, but they gave a small, hesitant smile and nodded, “o-oh, yeah, I’m…I’m okay. I’ve been th-through this a lot already so…I’m used to it.”

Your heart twisted.

Being used to death wasn’t normal.

“Alright,” you exhaled softly, putting aside your grievances just for this moment, “and…I just wanted to know how you felt about…y’know, me picking your items up.”

The more you thought about this being your skill, being able to pick up items from the other survivors (or, in other harsh terms, being able to loot a corpse of your companion), it made you uneasy. How did others view it? How did Noob feel about you just scooping up their items and running off?

“I-I don’t mind… If s-something of mine helps s-someone, then it’s okay.” They looked a bit surprised at your comment, but answered normally. It made you breathe a slight sigh of relief and smile in return.

A short clap pulled your attention back towards the others, near the wooden beam where Builderman stood, hands together. With that quick action, he had drawn everyone’s eyes.

“Right. We should all get some rest, so we’re prepared for the next match,” you had no objections, in fact, you found it a bit silly that Builderman was taking charge even now, “Dusekkar, Shedletsky, need ya to stay behind so I can speak with you two.”

Oh, secrets? How fun, but you weren’t too keen on getting on the Admins’ bad side to stay around and eavesdrop, so you turned and stepped out into the living room first. Only the hooded figure you had seen coming upstairs before the round started was in the living room and sitting on the couch. You paused for a moment, just to look curiously for a few seconds, before hurrying to the stairs.

You were just halfway up the stairs before Vee called your name. You stepped closer to the railing and smiled lopsidedly down at her.

“Y0U WANN4 TRY 0UT MY SKAT3 BO4RD LATER S0 YOU C4N G3T SOME PR4CT1CE IN BEF0RE A MATCH?”

That was the second match you had been tossed into, and Vee had explained that only one or two matches happened per day, so she could only mean before the matches tomorrow. That did sound like a good idea; you’d need to ask Shedletsky about his sword, too.

Asking an Admin for anything was a terrifying thought alone, even though they were Robloxians just like you.

“Later, sure,” you nodded, taking one more step up the stairs, only to catch sight of someone familiar sitting back on one of the beanbags. Your smile nearly faltered, but you caught yourself quickly.

“C00L! I’LL COM3 GET Y4 WHEN 1 HAV3 EVERYTH1NG R34DY!” She hurried off towards the front door of the cabin and exited the building. You turned away and forced yourself up the steps.

Chance had heard. He definitely did, but only when you made it to the top did they finally stand.

You moved quickly toward the hallway further to the left, keeping your head down even as he said your name, which made your blood run hotter. Your pace quickened, but he met it with longer strides.

“God…wait, just…can’t ya just hear me out for a sec?”

“I can’t!” You snapped back, spinning around, but were careful to keep your tone down so as not to draw any attention upstairs. You didn’t need your image to be painted like some sort of cruel bully.

You weren’t a bully. You weren’t.

Chance halted, one of his hands already halfway outstretched. Was he about to stop you? Or maybe they were about to block your path. They could definitely do that, but you weren’t against the idea of pushing him out of the way if needed.

“I just—” Your own voice faltered upon seeing the tense expression hidden behind dark shades and the darker hallway. You swallowed, tasting the cheese from that short meal lingering on your taste buds.

“Just…I can’t, not now. Everything…I can’t believe this, everything that’s happening,” there was that tremor again, in your voice, in your bones. Your eyes sought the ground you stood on, finding lines in the wood and counting them in your head; something to ground you as you struggled with words.

You couldn’t let him speak, you didn’t want to listen to them talk just yet, “I didn’t mean to…to hit you like that, I just, there’s a lot that happened, okay?” You inhaled sharply, continuing quickly while lifting your head, “I can’t explain—not yet. Not until…I get over this feeling.”

There was a tightness in your chest that loosened somewhat after saying this. That feeling you were talking about…even you didn’t know what it was yet. The feeling prohibited you from seeing Chance as you normally would, it stole your breath, caused your mind to tunnel vision, and seek escape.

Chance either saw the panicked look on your face or finally came to a conclusion by himself and nodded, albeit saddened, concerned, and confused.

“Right… Okay, I’ll…” They lifted a hand and adjusted their hat, and turned, leaving slowly down the hall.

You watched him for a moment, holding your breath for the moment he’d turn around and maybe give one of his terribly timed jokes, or would decide to plead with you once more, but they didn’t, and disappeared from sight.

You took a few steps back and then turned to scurry down the rest of the hall and pulled the door to your room open. After stepping inside, you closed it quickly, but were careful not to slam it.

Cold light filtered through the singular window, and you hurried over to it. You saw a reflection in the glass, yourself, but just faintly. Your hair was a strew, but not too messy, and your eyes were visibly tired; only, you didn’t feel tired, only the heaviness of exhaustion, but there was no fighting need to go to bed, just to recuperate.

You hated it. Hated this place… But you didn’t hate the people. The people in this hell were the only thing that made it bearable.

After combing down a few of the stray strands of your hair, you stumbled to the bed and threw yourself upon it. Not the best, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just like before. You rolled onto your side, then onto your back, and stared up at the ceiling.

You didn’t hate Chance. No, you never did.

It wasn’t his fault, your mind noted, causing you to wince and close your eyes, shutting that thought away.

It wasn’t his fault, but that other man’s.

And yours too.

You shut your eyes for a moment. Just a moment, just to think about nothing, to imagine that all this around you wasn’t real. You were just in your room back at Robloxia, surrounded by familiar things, smelling familiar smells, living your life.

Those thoughts drowned slowly in the depths of your mind, as it wasn’t real anymore. And it would never be real again.

You weren’t certain how much time passed as you lay there, eyes closed. Maybe you drifted off, half awake, half asleep, but the knock on your door caused you to wake with a jolt, heart thundering in your ears as if you awoke from a bad dream.

“H3YYY! Y0U AWAK3?” Vee’s voice, although muffled by the wooden door, was still very much not something you wished to hear upon immediately waking up, but you had agreed to try out her skateboard, so you pulled yourself up from the bed and trudged to the door.

The robot girl looked happy when you opened it, the emoticon on her vibrant face flickering from a round mouth to a wide smile, “C’M0N! I’V3 SET EV3RYTH1NG UP F0R YOU!” She beckoned with one hand, already turning to head down the hall.

You stepped out of your room and closed the door behind you, then hurried your pace to follow along. It felt like you were just out here, face-to-face with Chance. Your stomach writhed at the thought of spotting him downstairs, but even as you made it out to the second-floor sitting area, then down the stairs, you didn’t see them once.

A weight slipped from your shoulders when you stepped outside with Veeronica. You immediately spotted Elliot and Noob, who were both sitting on the chairs along the porch on your far left. Elliot gave a smile and a wave, Noob giving one as well, just with less energy.

“1’LL GIV3 YOU 4 B1T OF A D3MONSTR4TI0N FIR5T. TH3N 1’LL WALK Y0U THR0UGH SOM3 E4SY TRICK5!” One of Vee’s eyes became a ‘less than’ symbol, almost like she was winking at you. She took both your hands and guided you forward to sit on the steps so you could see most of the open area without any obstruction.

You hadn’t been outside, but you were pretty sure the boxes stacked around the clearing weren’t supposed to be there.

“W4TCH AND L3ARN!” Vee called from your right.

The moment you turned your head, she started forward and rolled along her skateboard. It rolled forward, and it looked like she was about to collide directly with the boxes stacked across from you, but instead of crashing into them, Vee and her skateboard bounced against them, and her movement accelerated, accompanied by a sharp noise.

She did it again with a second set of boxes, which you had to lean forward to get a better view of. You watched with wide eyes and let out a short, slow breath. Were you supposed to be able to do that?

Vee came rolling back on her skateboard and skidded to a stop at the foot of the stairs, “C00L, HUH?”

You threw on a quick smile, hesitant, but it was enough to make her smile back, “y-yeah! Really cool, just… Um, I don’t really know how to skate…so I dunno if I could really do all…that…”

There was a buzzing noise within one of Vee’s components that caught your ear, but it was covered up by the chipper laugh she gave instead, “0H, I D0N’T 3XPECT YOU T0 B3 ABLE TO D0 TH4T STUFF R1GHT AW4Y! 1’LL T34CH Y0U ALL Y0U N33D TO KNOW BEF0RE YOU’R3 COMF0RT4BLE IN D0ING TRICK5!”

Her words made the uncertainty ease up, and a real, relaxed smile spread across your face. You nodded and stood, walking onto the rough dirt with Vee.

She was a good teacher, maybe not the best at explaining things too well, but her actions were enough that you could understand what she wanted you to do. How to get on the board while standing, then moving, was first, then where to position your feet was next, and balance was third.

Vee gave you a small nudge on the board, moving it forward, and you nearly fell off.

It wasn’t bad, though, not at all. A good distraction; one that’d prepare you for the future rounds if Veeronica ever ended up…

Dead.

Vee’s hand pressed against your back, moving you forward so you could get used to the skateboard’s momentum and not fall off like an idiot. She instructed you to lean right or left, depending on when you wanted to turn, but now silence fell between you two, a comfortable one, at least you thought so.

“Y0U SH0ULD COM3 HANG WITH N00B, ELL1OT, CH4NC3, AND I S0M3TIM3,” Vee said suddenly, out of range from both Elliot and Noob, who were chatting quietly on the porch. Being near the edge of the lake sort of helped with the sound of the water covering her voice, “W3 HAV3 0UR OWN FR13ND GAM3N1GHT S0MET1ME5.”

Your expression faltered for just a moment, and so did your concentration, but it didn’t cause you to fall. You stared down at Vee’s board and inhaled slowly, steadying yourself.

Every time you heard his name, it wasn't the end of the world. You could get used to it.

“Sometime,” you murmured with a smile in her direction. She returned it with even more energy than before and continued pushing.

Maybe, just this once, you were allowed to feel happy to have one person in your small corner.

Chapter Text

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up.

Your back aches, kind of, you’re not sure if it’s because you fell so much after caving and trying out one of the easier tricks Veeronica showed you(she kept cheering you on, though), or because this bed still wasn’t treating you right.

Oh, right, and time didn’t exactly exist here. Your body had instinctively woken up from whatever slumber you were in and decided that, this time, you needed to stay awake.

You lay like that for a few more minutes, quieting your breathing, trying your best to listen to any sounds of life that could be outside, or in the hallway, but despite how many people took up this cabin, it was hard to hear anything.

You peeled back and kicked away the blankets that were thrown over your body, frowning at the sight of the clothes you slept in, as they weren’t pajamas but your normal clothes. The sets that were tucked away in your dresser still didn’t sit well with you, but you couldn’t complain.

Your body ached when you sat up and settled your feet against the floor, then instinctively looked for a mirror. Right. There was none; so you revisited the window, the tall trees casting a strange pattern over your tired eyes and face.

Your hair was messier than yesterday, so you did your best to comb it with your hands, then wiped your face with your sleeve to look at least a bit more presentable. God, you wished you had a mirror in here.

After at least a few more attempts, you turned and headed for the door, opened it quietly, and stepped out into the hall. It was just as dark as the day you had first seen it, and just as empty. You wanted to keep it that way, so you kept your steps light against the floorboards while walking past the other survivors’ rooms.

There were a few voices down in the kitchen and living room below, their voices a bit sparse though. Walking to the railing, you spotted that blue-haired fellow and Shedletsky on the couch, the two of them playing a game of cards.

You stepped back and slowly made your way downstairs, eyes shifting to the door ahead, and then back to where more Robloxians probably populated the cabin within.

Just before you could make a decision, Shedletsky leaned against the couch in a way that brought you into his field of vision, “mornin’,” he gave a friendly wave. The other man’s gaze lifted from his cards to you, and he gave a small nod.

“Um, good morning,” you responded with a small wave of your own, pausing at the foot of the stairs, but forced yourself to keep moving; anywhere was fine. So you headed to the door—fresh air was good, better than standing around in a stuffy cabin where you struggled to carry on a conversation.

Even though you had said ‘good morning’, the outside felt all but morning. The dark, starry canopy still remained up above, bright lanterns illuminating the camp-like surroundings. You turned your head left, where the lake stretched out towards a foggy horizon, and to the right, where endless trees layered the land.

You stepped down the stairs of the porch and turned right, heading down the short, dirt path until you were standing at the edge of the forest bounds. The air remained cool, but a certain rush of wind from within sent a chill down your spine.

You stared deeper in. There was a bush next to a tall pine tree close to your right, then further in, a large, flat rock just barely seen beneath the branches of a low-hanging one. And, just as you were about to pull your eyes away, you saw a flicker of a shadow.

Movement? You couldn’t tell. The oddly timed flow of gentle wind made it hard to tell what was real and what was fake, but you were certain you saw something shrink low to the ground… Or did they dart behind one of the thicker trees?

You blink hard, searching for the area once again, maybe to find something else that looked out of the ordinary, but you couldn’t see it. Whatever it was was gone, or never existed in the first place.

“Are y-you okay?”

The familiar voice behind you shouldn’t have scared you, but it did, causing you to jump and spin around, your heart pounding in your ears. A familiar laugh reached your ears next, but it did not belong to the same Robloxian.

Noob and Vee stood a few feet away, the robot girl’s screen obviously grinning, while Noob smiled nervously. Just before Vee calmed down, did you realize Noob had asked you a question.

“O-oh! Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you turned to look back at the forest, just turning your body halfway, then looked back at the two of them, “just…came out here for some fresh air.”

Vee nodded and stepped up closer, not next to you, but to your right to look at the forest as well, her hands on her hips, “Y0U’RE N0T TH1NK1NG ABOUT GO1NG IN5IDE, ARE Y0U?”

Noob moved to Vee’s right, looking out at the forest as well.

“Oh, no, I was just looking,” you told her. A static hum came from Vee’s person, and she nodded shortly after.

“G00D. THERE’5 N0TH1NG IN TH3R3 ANYW4YS,” a garbled, bit-crunched sigh came from her next, which you nearly flinched at, “JU5T AN 3NDL3SS MAZE. 4T L3AST, THAT’5 WH4T I’VE HE4RD.”

An endless maze with nothing but trees? Surely there was more to that—there had to be. You couldn’t just be stuck here at the edge of some forest-lake, doomed to repeat this cycle until you were sick.

You swallowed down your complaints and gave a dry chuckle, “yeah. I’d probably get mega lost in there,” your words earned two light laughs from Noob and Vee, which made your spirits lift just a bit.

Another chill ran up your spine, but you still couldn’t spot anything among the trees.

“Hey,” you blurted, “do you guys know when the next round is–”

Just before you could finish speaking, a clock began ticking down in your head. You could see the way Veeronica stills for a moment, then turns to you with quick, blinking eyes, before that picture warps and bleeds into your eyes, forcing you to close them.

It’s nauseating, to say the least. The colors blend and you feel like throwing up as the ground literally shifts until it isn’t, and you feel…right again.

You open your eyes again to find yourself in what looks like a trashed restaurant, just as a short sound of jazz plays in your ears. Booths, tables, and chairs were thrown about, glass littering the ground, and fire crackling in the corner of the room. But your eyes settle on Chance, who scrambles back as if you’re the plague.

Inhaling sharply, you turn and spot one of those generators placed up against the front counter, right next to a large, red translucent wall. It was just like the one you had seen at that mansion, except you were closer this time, but you were just as confused. You ignored it anyway and knelt next to the machine, trying your best to ignore the constant flip and pause from Chance’s coin.

Couldn’t they just leave? You thought with a small tug of your lips, but quickly brushed that thought away. No, you could accept it this time. You…’spawned’ near each other, that was all.

It wasn’t his fault.

“Oh, shit,” Chance then hissed from the very left side of the building. He stood at the threshold of one of the giant holes in the wall and said your name, “we need to get out of here.”

You felt an itch under your skin and blanked at their words. But just as you stood, Chance jumped backward into the building, narrowly dodging a quick flash of black as it collided with the wall, missing them by inches.

Chance keeps flipping that coin, but you don’t hear the noise anymore.

Your mouth becomes dry at the sight of the Robloxian dressed up in a black suit and trench coat. He adjusts his hat, grumbling to himself in words you cannot hear, nor did you wish to. Your blood ran cold, and the feeling opposite of when you first saw Chance fueled your body.

All you could feel was cold fear and an unshakeable dread.

Because that’s the man who killed you.

You can’t see anything else, your eyes are trained on Mafioso as he stands taller than you remembered, or maybe he was always that tall—you were tied to a chair the last time you saw him.

Even though Chance stood just between you and him, the man tilted his head to the side, tongue clicking, “well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t think I’d see another familiar face ‘round here,” his voice was all you could hear.

It echoed and rang, causing your head to pound, your face to drain of blood. Everything felt so heavy, you couldn’t move, but you did force your head down so you didn’t have to look at his face.

In front of you, Chance stilled. You noticed his legs were shaking slightly, but it couldn’t compare to the tremors that wracked your body.

Your eyes flicked to the sound of Chance’s coin, flipping over and over, that hand tucked behind his back (which you realized was only possible because of their luck). Just a minute ago, you found the noise annoying, but it was a bit more grounding than anything now.

“Y’know,” instinctively, you raised your head just enough to see Mafioso’s mouth move, “I was feelin’ kinda sorry for ya after I…” He made a motion of dragging his thumb across his throat, his other hand buried inside his coat pocket.

You felt sick.

“Stop,” you forced out, your hands feeling clammy as you clenched them tight. Chance was no longer flipping their coin.

“I’m just tellin’ ya how it is. Who coulda known he was already sleepin’ with the fishes?”

You were learning and relearning things all at once.

But there was no more time to think, not when Chance moved one arm up and shouted your name. The gun in his hand went off, striking Mafioso in the shoulder, causing the man to double over and grab at the bloody flesh as it began visibly weaving together.

“Get out of here! Go!” They shouted again, forcing your mind still for once. You took the chance and scrambled for an exit, which was a hole in the far left side of the building, with brick and other rubble lying both inside and outside.

Chance wasn’t following, you noticed. And when you took one brave glance over your shoulder, you were sure Chance’s plan was going to go to waste with how Mafioso’s eyes tracked you under the shadow of his hat; you could feel it.

He was going to go after you and finish the job. And he would have many opportunities to.

But Mafioso fixed his hat and moved further inside the burning pizzeria with clenched teeth as you disappeared behind a different building that the dark road paved behind. There was a half-fixed generator at the corner you ducked behind, as well as a line of wire that lined up against the first open entrance to the back of the building.

You peeked inside while catching your breath, careful not to disturb the tripwire a foot away from your own feet. The interior wasn’t exactly as big a mess as the other building, but it was in a bit of disarray, putting aside the tripwires and faint, glowing tripmine placed near one of the translucent, red walls.

That hooded figure you had seen a few times in the cabin was just setting down another trap when they spotted you, paused, then waved you inside. You glanced back toward the pizza place just one more time before heading inside, becoming unsettled at the sight of that transparent wall. Any second…any second he could march right through.

“It’s safe here,” you stared at the place that Mafioso had stood at the pizza place, which was much closer than you had originally thought, “right?” Then you turned to the cloaked survivor. You couldn’t see any features under that hood of his, and you were certain that it would be the same if you were closer than the distance you were at now.

He stared for a moment, then nodded, giving a thumbs-up. You let out a breath and decided to sit near the center of the room, right up against the counter with the cash register placed on top.

You glanced down at your wrist like Shedletsky had taught you, frowning at the clock that ticked down with the red bar of health right below it. Your life was some fucking video game to The Spectre, it seemed.

Instead of deciding on staring at the clock on your wrist for the whole match, you decided to focus your gaze elsewhere, like watching the other survivor in the room placing down a small stick into the ground near one of the doorways, then one directly on the other side, creating another tripwire.

There were four tripwires in this place now and one tripmine. It did make you feel a bit safer. She stepped over their tripwire from the direction you came, and you heard the clunk of the generator just beyond the doorway.

You pulled your legs closer, the pounding in your chest having eased up, but it still hurt, especially your head. Every part of you wished you were anywhere but here.

Yet, just before you could spiral once again, the call of your name made you jump, your back hitting the counter behind you, creating a slight soreness that anchored you further to reality.

It was Elliot. He was a bit roughed up, but not bleeding, thankfully.

“You’re alive, oh…goodness, I’m so happy you’re alive…” Elliot breathed out, smiling despite the obvious pain he was in. You couldn’t help but stare at the area where he held his side until he spoke your name again, “Chance is dead… You can probably go pick up their flintlock now.”

Those words were like a slap in the face.

They aren’t dead, you thought as you stood. You weren’t as numb to those words as you initially thought, and a wave of cold dread at the thought of seeing his body washed over you.

“Okay,” you forced out, eyes darting toward that red wall, then retreated to the back of the building, where you had come from before, deciding to retrace your steps.

You passed the hooded figure just as she was done with the generator, but didn’t remain there long and cautiously approached the destroyed pizzeria. It felt unsettingly warm in the dining area, but the fire that torched some of the furniture in the corner of the room hadn’t moved.

Your eyes drifted to the spot you and Chance had spawned, then to the generator that had been completed by some unknown party, then to the place that Chance had run to when they told you to run. Slowly, you walked through the large opening and found another busted-open wall to your left in the kitchen.

You continued forward, stepping around the debris and other pizzeria-related items until you stood in the very back of the building, just at the edge of where the wood became pavement for trucks to park themselves for delivery.

And just beyond that, just to the left, where a clutter of colorful boxes sat, was Chance’s body.

You saw the blood and specs of gore that stuck to the sides of the red and blue boxes first, the splatter leading to an even more visceral mess where his head should be. You want to tear your eyes away, you don’t want to approach, but you find yourself doing the opposite.

The sight makes your blood run cold, and you drop to your knees beside their body. His flintlock was gripped in his right hand, either preparing to fire it, or they had already done so, and it didn’t go off. You pry it from their hand, and then slip your hand into his right pocket to fish out the coin. He always kept it in his right pocket.

Your breath hitched when you saw their body begin to grow a translucent white, and you dropped both items to grab at Chance’s arm, but paused right before your fingers brushed the fabric of their shirt.

His body disappears, and you’re kneeling in front of a bloody mess of what remains.

You swallowed your doubt and picked up the gun and coin and began flipping.

Tails.

Tails.

Tails.

Each time you flipped on tails, a small buzzer noise played, similar to the one you had heard at the start of the match, but you were well aware that Chance didn’t flip on tails this many times. You got to your feet with a sharp sigh.

Tails.

Tails.

A sharp ding! caused your heart to jump, but then ease up a little at the sight of heads on the coin.

Just as you were about to keep flipping, the sight of two familiar figures made you stop.

Fuck.

As far as you remembered, Mafioso had at least four trusted men that you were aware of: Consigliere, Contractee, Soldier, and Caporegime. They didn’t deal the final blow, but they were certainly part of the problem.

And Consigliere and Contractee were approaching you.

“No way! Thought I saw a familiar face!” Consigliere held his sword at a resting point on his shoulder, his eyes curling at the sight of you. Contractee clicked his tongue with a small frown.

“Boss didn’t say anythin’ ‘bout ‘em,” he glanced sideways at his companion with an uncertain look.

“Shouldn’t we treat ‘em like any other survivor?”

You flipped the coin, hoping for heads, but found tails instead.

Contractee gave a short shrug, shifting on his feet, which made you flinch, but it went unnoticed, “should we? They didn’t do any wrong t’us or the family,” another flip. Tails.

“That was in the past!” Consigliere lifted his sword off his shoulder and swung it down in front of him, like he was making a point. If you were five strides closer, you were certain it’d do some damage.

“But, still—”

You couldn’t wait any longer; you couldn’t just stand here and let them decide if you were worth killing again, even if one of them had their doubts. The clock was ticking; you could hear it loud in your ears.

So, you stepped back, raised the gun, and pulled the trigger.

Your hand lurched as the flintlock went off, sending a violent shock up your arm and down to your core. There was a ringing in your ears, so much ringing.

You don’t know if Consigliere or Contractee saw the gun in your hand, or just disregarded you as a threat entirely, but you could see the red spreading across the white of their clothes. With the angle you were at, you had hit one through the shoulder and the other in the chest.

The clock still ticked, and your hands still shook.

Consigliere and Contractee then collapsed, bodies disappearing quicker than Chance’s, but with the same effect lingering in your mind.

Why did you do that?

You didn’t have to do that.

The ticking in the air stopped, and the redness of the map was consumed in darkness.

You didn’t have to do that.

Chapter Text

Your eyes adjust quickly to the glow of the light that hangs above the table, but it feels like it’s glowing brighter than before, the buzz of it turning into a ring that sounds so much like Chance’s flintlock you had fired so needlessly at the end of the round.

You didn’t want to kill anyone—there was no need to even pull the trigger. But you’d done it anyway, afraid that they’d hurt you again.

I could’ve waited, you thought, staring dumbly down at the fiber of the table in front of you; it was almost over. The match was almost over, I could’ve waited.

A sick feeling slid up your throat, and for a moment, it felt like you were going to throw up, but it just settled there, becoming a hard lump you couldn’t swallow.

“Hey, you alright?” Elliot’s voice reached you first among the many that filled the room, and not just because he was sitting next to you, but because of the hand that hovered near your arm.

You didn’t move, only looked at him and attempted a half smile, but considering the small, concerned furrow of his brow, you didn’t think it came off as a smile.

“I-I got the gun,” you murmured, turning your gaze down as the lump in your throat sank into the pit in your stomach, something so unsettling and cold you found yourself shuddering, “I shot them…those- his underlings, Contractee and Consigliere,” saying it aloud did not help, “I shot them,” you whispered again.

The hand landed, and you flinched. You turned slightly toward Elliot, who offered a wry, shaky smile. He was shaking too. Why was he shaking?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, head lowering as well, the hand on your arm squeezing just slightly, “I shouldn’t have told you to get the gun- I… I’m so sorry.”

The second squeeze made you stiffen, and you realized the room had grown much quieter; not silent, as there were still murmurs and the shift of others, but you were now keenly aware of the eyes that were focused on you and Elliot.

This was not as private a conversation as you wished it to be.

“I could’ve waited,” you didn’t know whether you were continuing at this point, uncaring to the others that were most definitely listening in, or mentioning that this conversation could’ve waited. That you could’ve waited on this, too. But you didn’t want to worry Elliot either, one of the few who seemed to be taking good care of you in this place.

Before Elliot could say anything further, you pushed back on the chair, wood scraping against wood, and then stood. Elliot’s hand fell away, and he watched you with knitted brows and a small, worried frown.

“I’m just… Going outside. Getting some air,” you lifted your right hand slightly, then let it fall away as you turned to quickly head out of the dining area. That room grew loud even as it was devoid of one less conversation.

Nobody was in the living room, which was almost an inviting sight if you didn’t feel so trapped and stuffy right now. Not even the large couch looked comfortable.

You pushed open the door and stepped outside while feeling a weight slide off your shoulders. A timely brush of wind did not bring you comfort, but it settled the heat burning behind your eyes. You walked to the right, still along the porch, and sat down on one of the two chairs that you had previously seen Noob and Elliot sitting on before the match.

At the thought of the match, you drew your legs up and hunched over.

Mafioso was here.

He didn’t change much at all; maybe a bit more…cruel than you recalled, but your memory of him was never the best anyway.

And you would’ve never met him in the first place if you had never met Chance.

That thought, too, made your stomach coil.

Relaxing into the chair, you closed your eyes and thought back to the loud, rowdy days you enjoyed with your friends—other friends that weren’t related to Chance, some of whom you were just acquaintances with, while others you could message on a daily basis. You weren’t a lonely person, but you always kept them at arm’s length due to your luck.

Your damn luck.

That one day you forget to bring an umbrella, it just happens to rain. The new hoodie you bought, the zipper broke on the first use. Every dish you wash always soaks your shirt.

You met them at a casino, a small one, while you were with a group of friends. You weren’t the gambling type, not at all, so when the lucky bastard himself approached you, asking for a game, you had no idea why you accepted.

He agreed not to bet any money, much to your surprise, but it wasn’t a very big surprise that you lost every round of blackjack the two of you played.

“It’s ‘cause of my luck,” Chance had grinned at you, one arm fully lying against the table as he leaned forward, nearly in your space. You had given him a look and shook your head with an amused sigh, “no, I assure you, you’d be surprised.”

You’d talked longer than you should’ve, laughed more than with any of your other companions, and soon found yourself adding him to your friends list. You went home thinking you’d never see that eccentric gambler again.

But you did. Their addition to your life brought you more…excitement than you had imagined. His ties to some of the bigger corporate figures made you feel… Well, you weren’t exactly sure how to feel, and even now his ties to them were odd; he had money, that was for sure. Were you just another limited in his collection? Or did they actually want you as a friend?

You stayed around, pulling him away from the less tasteful situations, because you had an eye for those kinds of things. Nothing got terrible when they were around, but it’s not like you noticed when your eyes were always on him.

Until they weren’t.

And he met iTrapped.

The thought of his name made his face—or what you could remember of it—flash to the forefront of your mind. A yellow Robloxian with an ice crown, but the details were fuzzy. All you remembered was that cold feeling in the room when Chance came through the casino doors with that unfamiliar face.

That cold feeling was a bad feeling, and those feelings were never related to your luck; it was a natural instinct.

You didn’t drop that feeling, but grasped it with one hand, and iTrapped’s in the other as Chance introduced you to each other.

Time passed quickly after that, and you tried your damndest to drop as many hints of your dislike towards iTrapped, tried making plans with Chance if it kept him from meeting iTrapped, until it was impossible to do. You never knew if iTrapped knew of your displeasure towards him, but you were at least glad you never got to interact with him ever again.

“I don’t think you should hang out with him anymore,” you had said, bluntly, to Chance after iTrapped had left for home for the night. You had made sure he wasn’t listening around the corner, since you watched him leave in a taxi, “I don’t have a good feeling.”

You don’t exactly remember what happened after that. Things became blurry, you stopped hanging out with some of your old friends, and stopped caring about what your luck did to you. Your contact with Chance was never the same.

So you shouldn’t have cared when you found out Chance was being hunted by the mafia.

How? Why? Were your first questions when? Was the next. The Sonnellino family—you didn’t know them too well, and not Mafioso specifically, but it was hard not to know him when–

The faint creak of the front door caused you to flinch before you opened your eyes quickly and turned your head right to spot whoever exited the cabin. You were both relieved and tense when you spotted Dusekkar hovering on the porch, the door shutting softly behind him.

His flickering yellow eyes landed on you, and he quietly floated over, standing two arm-lengths away, a comfortable distance.

“Forgive me if I have frightened you in this forever night, you look quite troubled, would you care if I sit to set your mind right?” The Admin gestured toward the available chair. His rhyme was easy to decipher, and you had no right to refuse, so you nodded quietly.

You turned your head away from him as he moved closer to settle down in the wooden chair, a small, cloth pillow set on top of the hard seat to provide just a little comfort. You held back a small sigh and slipped your legs off the edge of the chair again, your joints crackling slightly from the stiff position.

“Many eyes have seen your distress, both loud and quiet, so please don’t distress,” he spoke once more, pumpkin head still turned to look at you, but you did not meet his unwavering gaze, “our friends here have gone through the same, so please do not feel as if you are to blame.”

This was different, you wanted to say, mouth already opened to do so, but nothing came out. There weren’t even the quiet chirps of crickets or the faint hoots of an owl, nothing to fill the quiet night.

How was it different?

“I didn’t have to do it,” you murmured, finally moving your head to look down at your lap rather than stare at the cabins sitting across from the main one, “I was…just scared.”

Scared. Yes, you were scared, always scared.

An odd rumble(?) came from Dusekkar, and only now did you angle yourself to have your body pointed in his direction. He was nodding, the shapes in his blue head were unmoving, forever carved into a jack-o-lantern-like smile. Despite the forever-smile he was giving, you found it a little daunting not being able to read his expressions.

“It’s alright to feel afraid, for even the bravest of hearts tremble when met with a blade,” he responded with a quiet tone, but continued without missing a beat, “I recall you said before, that the gambler here you may know more.”

You turned your head down further and nodded, but a few moments later, you saw the end of a stick rising towards your face before tapping under your chin. You raised your head, feeling your heart skip a beat when you were forced to meet with his flame-like gaze.

“Please, do not fret, I will not pry into how you two met,” the stick, you noticed, was the wooden end of Dusekkar’s staff, “what you think, I wish to know, how you feel, please let me know.”

The Admin’s words were growing more and more unusual. You understood…but you also didn’t.

You sat there just thinking in silence for a moment, and the one sitting next to you sat in silence as well, with only the muffled sounds of life coming from inside the cabin. The walls weren’t as thick as you thought.

“I knew…Chance before all this. Um, I don’t know what they’ve told you about their…life,” you frowned at that word, “but the man in the recent round…Mafioso, he knew Chance. He knows me. He…”

The words lodged in your throat as you thought back to Chance’s body lying bloody next to the colorful array of boxes behind the pizza place. You imagined him as yourself, crushed underneath the heel of Mafioso’s boot. That wasn’t how you died, but you didn’t want to experience any type of death from that man’s hand again.

Then, a different outcome. The flintlock did not fire, and there was more time in the round. His men would come to the most plausible conclusion to just kill you, just as you were dealt with before.

“You need not continue, I understand the issue.” Dusekkar nodded slowly, his voice holding a low tone to it; not quiet, but solemn. You realized now that his voice was the tell of his expression.

For a moment longer, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence. You could breathe a bit easier now, but there was something you still wanted to get off your chest.

“I’m…I’m still sorry about causing a scene on my first day here,” you murmured, head slowly tilting down again, but the sight of Dusekkar’s staff still held gracefully between his fingers caused you to reverse that action, “I couldn’t—I just didn’t think he’d be here. He was the last person I wanted to see.”

You were expecting another scolding paired with the stern look from Builderman. You wondered how you looked in his eyes, Dusekkar’s too. But seeing as he was still talking to you, you were sure their opinions might differ.

“Things in the past may leave a toll, but time keeps turning and shaping your soul.”

You couldn’t hold back the small, sarcastic laugh that forced past your lips, and immediately felt the warmth that crawled up your spine right after. It felt terribly wrong to laugh at an Admin’s words.

“What if the cost back then was permanent?”

“The past remains carved in stone to last, forever bound to time, alas,” the chair creaked as Dusekkar angled himself too to look at you fully, “although, one must wonder, do you hold a grudge inside, or have you let those old wounds drift aside?”

There was a stabbing pain somewhere deep within, and the warmth along your neck turned cold immediately. The warmth in his carved eyes did not take shape in his words, only remained in that physical flame inside his head.

Your throat was dry as you answered, “I don’t know,” but that felt wrong too, “I just…can’t look at them. Not right now.”

Swallowing hard, you watched as Dusekkar turned back toward the railing that lined the front of the porch, humming softly.

This time, the silence was harder to bear. It was the longest of the few you had sat through, as if he was seriously thinking through your words, or choosing his own to respond with. It was startling to hear him speak again with such clarity.

“I do not wish to get between you and your plight, but you must find your words and find a light, because deep down, there are things we can always right.” Even if Dusekkar was a little mystic in his choice of words, you were certain you understood at least the gist of what he meant.

And, to that, you manage to give a slight smile. It was an attempt, a shaky one, but Dusekkar’s head gave a slight tilt to the side at the sight of it. A pleased noise left his figure, and he leaned back a little more into the chair; at least, as far as his antlers would allow.

You did as well, keeping that shaky attempt on your face for just a little longer, because it just felt nice to smile.

Making amends with Chance. That thought didn’t scare you as much as it would have a day ago. Your eyes drifted to the left, then the right, then focused back at the center.

This could be a good place to do it. It was nice talking to Dusekkar alone out here, so perhaps the same feeling would hold true with Chance.

You imagined him now, sitting slumped in the chair Dusekkar currently sat in, hat in their lap as he tries to brush off your apology, play it off. You'd keep pushing, and then you say something that might hurt him again. You'd apologize for that, too, over and over, struggling to try and find the right words.

It's gone, and you start over. He's leaning back now, hat in his lap, they're just as nervous as you are, wringing it and then pulling it tight to get rid of the wrinkles. They start apologizing first, telling you that you were right about iTrapped, that he wasn't a good friend to you, that his tendencies to keep living to their fullest got the best of him. But that's not what you were here for. You were supposed to apologize, to lay everything out on the table, and you felt terrible again because he was apologizing.

You closed your eyes for a moment to breathe. You were thinking too much about this, just like when you thought too much about how to get rid of iTrapped, how to help Chance from the mafia, even though you had no damn clue where he was, and even when you were held captive by the very same mafia.

“I’ll…I’ll try talking to him again,” you finalize your still uncertain plan mentally, your heart already wincing at the thought, but not from the overthinking, “not now, but soon,” you say once more, just to ease that inkling of anxiety still presently lurking.

“There’s no need to rush; things take time, so, for now, enjoy the hush.”

The smile on your face grew a little bit more real as you sank a bit further into the rickety chair, finding the comfort of the rhyming Admin and the quiet of the night just a bit relaxing in this unsettling place.

Chapter Text

A week in this hell felt much shorter than it should’ve been. At least, when you ignored how time passed, that was different.

Attempting to count the days that passed was short-lived because there were times when you wouldn’t be dragged into a match out of nowhere and have very little to do other than sleep or chat with some of the others, that is, if you could make conversation.

Taph (you finally learned their name), you found, was actually pretty good at handling conversations when you were one-on-one, but she always scurried off when Dusekkar or Builderman became available. Not that you didn’t mind.

When you weren’t blessed by a strange bout of luck and were pulled in along with a few other survivors, you had to lock the fuck in.

Strangely enough, it was always easier to think about the matches than to experience them. You’d often think about how you’d stay calm and strategically move around the map and avoid the killer, but when it came to the real deal, those plans went out the window. You were always quick on your toes, but your breath grew strained, your eyes darted around whenever you swore you saw something whizzing by your head, and you would nearly cry the moment you came across the first body of each round.

Near the beginning of the week, you were stolen into the match in a map called Brandonworks. Spawning at the top of a somewhat large castle was an interesting feeling, but the sight of the starless sky made that little light dwindle in your chest.

Although you did get a particularly good view of the middle of the map and spotted the killer almost immediately due to the green glow they emitted—1x1x1x1. A sharp noise echoed in the air when they brought their hand towards her face.

“Ah, hell,” Shedletsky, who had walked up one of two slopes to get to the top of the castle, muttered. You didn’t see him until now and watched as he immediately began speedwalking to the other side of the castle.

For a while after that, you didn’t see Shedletsky or 1x1x1x1 for a good amount of the round. You did come across Noob and Builderman at one point, who introduced you to the term ‘targeting’.

Yet, after separating from the two, you happened to run into the myth himself near a section of wooden walls, who had just finished decapitating the Admin’s head. They noticed you and gave a sharp, zipper-toothed smile, before deciding you were their next target.

It did not end well.

Your passive ability helped only for the first hit, but you weren’t as skilled as the other survivors in actually getting away from killers. The venom added to his blades felt like fire burning in your veins as you looped her back around towards Shedletsky’s body, aiming to swoop in and pick up his sword that you had yet to train with, only to find two swords piercing your back.

It was more numbing than anything, even as hot warmth bloomed across your back and you slumped to your knees. A foot kicked you down to the ground, and you fell forward, only to jolt upward, screaming.

Light, warmth that wasn’t the burning holes those swords had made in your torso; you were back in the main cabin, lying on the living room floor like a drunk who had just woken up, but without the major headache.

Both Shedletsky and 007n7 were there, too. They weren’t too startled by your cry, but 007n7 knelt at your side and gave you a consoling squeeze on your shoulder as Shedletsky stood by with a knowing nod.

“You’ll get used to it,” he told you as it took all you had in you not to cry in front of people who were practically strangers.

Another round happened that you were dragged into in the middle of the week, where there were a larger number of survivors. Chance was there too, and his presence nearby caused you to recall your recent conversation with Dusekkar.

You told the Admin you’d talk with them, but hadn’t yet.

There hasn’t been an opening, you thought to yourself, tearing your eyes away from him as they began to flip their coin in the corner of a graveyard.

You didn’t die that round, playing it even more cautiously than usual due to the appearance of a new killer (to you, at least). Elliot told you it was John Doe, told you not to step in the dark puddles on the ground or in the purple river, and to try to avoid his line of sight.

Then, he ran off towards the chase, where you saw a somewhat yellowish Robloxian with a deformed black spike as an arm carve into the back of Shedletsky.

Thank 2x2, you didn’t die that round or even get thirty studs near him.

All killers had some sort of personality, you learned. At least the ones you knew of so far.

John Doe and 1x1x1x1 were both brutal killers, but from the stories you overheard from others, John Doe didn’t speak while 1x could. Nosferatu spoke as well, you knew this for a fact, but he enjoyed toying with the survivors like prey, and you heard from Veeronica that the myth Noli liked doing the same, but he was rather degrading with his words.

The Noli? You almost couldn’t believe it, but then you remembered 1x was here, and thought it wasn’t impossible.

You asked her to tell you more about the other killers that were here, just so you were prepared for the future.

There was one called Slasher, apparently. He didn’t talk and wore a mask, but he was aware and could understand the survivors. Veeronica told you that he had spared her once because she had put up a spray paint of him on the wall, but on a different round, when she tried the same thing again, she was nearly cleaved in two.

“OH, TH3R3’S AL5O…” Vee looked around for a moment, the two of you sitting on the couch in the living room, “GU3ST 666.”

A giant beast colored red and black. The way she spoke about him threw you off a bit, like she was a bit unsure if she should be saying these things.

“Y0U’LL N33D TO ST1CK NEXT T0 S0MEONE WH3N Y0U GO AGA1N5T THEM,” she told you, shivering when there was no draft.

The end of the week was the current day, and you were thankfully exempt from an early-day match. It was quiet downstairs, the usual chatter you’d wake up to not reaching your ears. Whoever else was excluded from today’s game must have been outside or in their room. Not that you were going to bother and look, you enjoyed your alone time as much as anyone else, which was a hard thing to get when surrounded by the same faces the majority of the time.

You chose to relax in one of the beanbags, finding a bit of peace whenever you just sat here.

But that peace did not last long.

There was a sudden thud that echoed downstairs, causing you to flinch and turn your head, followed by familiar shouting, “come on! I didn’t even have my gun!”

Chance was the first one dead, then. A shame…

But, as you sat there a moment longer, something in the back of your mind clicked, realizing that this was the moment you had been both agonizing over and anticipating. Part of you screamed to rip off the bandaid, while the other part of you wished to do anything else but this.

You stood, took a deep breath, and marched quietly to the top of the stairs to glance down at the living room.

It was impossible for Chance not to see you with the way he was sitting on the living room floor. As you walked down the stairs, you watched in the corner of your eye the way they attempted to hurry up off the floor to maybe escape the room and your gaze.

“Chance,” you stopped him with his name, and your stomach did an uneasy flip, unsure for a moment on how to continue. You had mulled this over more than twenty times already, but it was just like those damn games. Even if you prepared for it mentally, when it actually came to the action, you lost all rationality.

You had been standing at the bottom of the stairs for too long, and if you waited a second longer, someone else might appear and take the moment away. A perfect out, but you had come this far already.

“I…I want to talk to you,” you manage to get out, your right hand finding interest with the fringe on your left sleeve, but then you immediately stop the action to gesture with your right hand towards the door, “outside…maybe.”

You had sealed your fate.

Chance paused, standing next to the fireplace with an almost dumbfounded look on his face; you could tell even with their shades on. He wavered, studying your expression to double-check if you were being truthful, then ahem’d into a fist and nodded, adjusting the collar of his suit right after.

You took the lead first, stepping outside into the open where that cool chill always brushed past the moment you arrived on the porch. Chance was right behind you, so you didn’t bother waiting up for them and headed to the left, where two seats remained in the same place they always had.

You took the furthest one, so Chance sat on your right.

Now that you were here, things felt a lot more real. All this time, it was like you were on autopilot when interacting with Chance, but in this very moment, you had taken the wheel, and all there was so far was silence.

Say something, goddammit! Your mind screamed as you tried to refer to your talk with Dusekkar.

“So, I-”

“So, about-”

The two of you looked at each other, words falling apart. You hadn’t expected them to speak at all—you were the one who called him out here—so hearing their voice was a bit surprising. Chance revealed a sheepish grin, though, one that flashed his canines. You offered an awkward smile in response.

Chance gestured for you to continue with one of his hands and leaned back into the wooden chair that creaked in protest.

You turned your head back to stare forward, sorting through your rattled thoughts. Looking forward made it a little easier, even if you were all too aware of the presence next to you.

“I just wanted to–well, not only did I want to…um, say sorry about hitting you again,” you paused upon hearing an audible exhale (or inhale) come from your right, but chose to ignore it, “a-again, I just wasn’t expecting you…here… Even after I…”

You trailed off, knowing what else you wanted to say, but not how to get there.

“I think I–no, I blamed you…partially, for my death,” you heard a creak from the chair this time, and your head tilted just a bit to see that Chance had leaned forward rather than back. You couldn’t see their expression, “not this game death, but my real death. All because of that…that Don Sonne-whatever his name is recognized me ‘cause I hung out with you once when we were at his casino.”

It was before Chance met iTrapped. They had dragged you along, and Don Sonnellino didn’t forget a face.

The movement on your right caught your eye. Chance had dipped his head down, back slouched, grey hair hanging low around his face. Your heart stopped for a moment when you watched Chance lift his head and nearly caught the hoods of his eyes from the top of his shades, before you averted your gaze the moment they looked back at you.

You felt warm.

You had seen him without their sunglasses before, just once, but you couldn’t remember what his eyes looked like; it was a fuzzy memory.

“Got caught a bit after I heard what happened. They wanted to know about where you were, like I knew your every move,” these memories weren’t fuzzy, “I told them I didn’t know, so they made it as painful as possible.”

Your voice grew low, not a whisper, but still quiet.

Chance said your name, but you lifted a hand just slightly, motioning to him that you weren’t done. They only nodded in response.

“I…I had a lot of time to think, when I was captive, I mean,” you inhaled slowly and shifted to sit back against the chair, head bumping against the wood of the cabin, “and now, I guess… About how…how shitty my life was, but even with all that, and my bad luck, I still met you. Who made my life a bit better.”

You didn’t dare look at what expression Chance was making now.

“I just…” You nearly said the word, hated, but they stuck, and you realized that wasn’t how you felt at all. You never hated Chance, not at all; that was aimed at someone else, “I just held a terrible, bitter grudge, knowing that you were lucky enough to get away, while…I was not.

It felt…a lot better after saying those things. Your mind didn’t feel as clouded, and when you thought of who sat next to you, you didn’t feel as uncertain as you usually would. You breathed easier, finally felt…heard.

“So you were thinking of me when you died?”

The way Chance says that was clearly not thought out at all, and either he realized what they said and didn’t care, or was just too thick-skulled not to. It took all you had not to smile or laugh at his unusual bluntness with such heavy words.

“Yeah. Sure,” you gave them the benefit of the doubt anyway and just agreed to it. It wasn’t as if they were wrong, but the way he worded it was a little…

After a few moments of silence, Chance sighed. You angled yourself right, finally looking at him once again. You imagined Dusekkar holding the end of his staff to your chin, ready to put you into place if you lowered your gaze.

“I should’ve listened to you,” their lips pursed, and you could see his dark brows furrow just above the lines of his sunglasses, “he was a bad friend. A terrible one,” his voice grew quiet, almost becoming a whisper.

You knew who Chance meant, you weren’t dumb, and you weren’t about to be an asshole and say, “I told you so!” Even if you might’ve in the past.

“Why did I even…?” Chance took off his hat and ran a hand back through his hair, starting from his forehead and all the way to the base of his neck. In the dim light of the lantern that hung nearby, you could tell that they looked almost tired, the vibrant orange softening the sharp curve of his jaw and outlining his frame in warm color.

“I won a game, the…the Sonnellino’s game at their casino,” they chuckled and shook their head, then put their hat back on their head, “won me too much, actually. Too much for me t’know what t’do with…”

He trailed off, the smile he wore when talking about winning the Sonnellino Family’s game slowly faded, “I was on the run for a while. Don’t know if iTrapped heard what happened, but he sent me a message and…and set me up.”

You saw his jaw tighten for a moment, but it loosened a second later.

“Stabbed me clean through, left me for dead,” after placing a hand along his stomach, they turned their head towards you. You saw your own sad eyes reflecting in Chance’s dark shades, “if I woulda known winning that game would’ve led to your death… I would’ve never taken that chance.”

Those words coming from Chance’s mouth were…well, you didn’t have words of your own to describe it. The Chance not taking a gamble? Risking all they had just for the life of their friend? You exhaled slowly, relieving tension and wearing a small smile.

You didn’t know if you wanted to even hear those words, but it made you feel better, ten times better than before.

It was never on purpose.

It was never your or his fault.

There was a comfortable quiet after that, just an unspoken weight having been lifted, and the feeling of tears that would not come.

You could hear the presence of your other friends and the other survivors mingling in the cabin just behind both of you, returning from whatever torturous hell that dragged them away from this cabin in the first place. You were only fortunate enough not to be chosen by whatever hand had a play in your current life.

Even as the sounds grew louder, neither of you moved. Just like before, you sat amidst the sound of distant chatter and quiet laughter with the backdrop of quiet waves from the lake nearby to add to the odd calm that washed over you.

Chapter Text

You didn’t do much yesterday after talking with Chance other than agree that you’d both get back into the grooves of things, treating each other like normal people instead of skittering around your major issues. Not too much, though, even though you had that talk, you couldn’t just flip a switch and go back to how things used to be

You told him you didn’t mind talking like this or sharing a few words from time to time, but you were going to set the pace, and they were fine with that.

Soon after, you left the porch first and returned to your room.

That was yesterday. You didn’t know how much longer Chance spent outside, but it didn’t really matter. That was yesterday, and today was… Well, not that much different considering the weather stayed exactly the same.

You were outside again, finding solace in the open rather than stuck in the cabin with the rest of the survivors. Nobody made you uncomfortable, but you were still unsure how to act around certain people, namely, Builderman and 007n7. Such famous (and infamous) names and faces, and then you were smack dab in the center of this mess.

It wasn’t time for any matches, not the usual time, anyway. You had woken up from your uneventful slumber, your mental clock forcing you awake. There was no way for you to find any bouts of sleepiness left in your system, and you didn’t want to lie in that stuffy room for who knows how long, so you forced yourself up and out of the cabin.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to imagine the cold bite of early-morning air as you stepped off the porch and approached one of the two other cabins that sat directly across from the main one. You’d seen them a few times but never asked what they were used for, so at least you had something to do while you killed time.

The first cabin was the smallest cabin out of the three in the entire clearing. Wooden railing surrounded the left and front of the doorway, with only a few steps leading up to the low-set porch on the right side. You walked quietly up the short steps, approached the door, and gave it a knock.

You knocked a second time after a few seconds of waiting, then tried the handle. Locked. A small frown tugged on your lips, so you turned, hopped the short length of the stairs, and approached the side of the small cabin to peer into one of the windows.

Shadows clawed the edges of the window pane, and your reflection was one of the only things you could actually see. There were shadows, though, none that moved, but they looked like furniture, but it was too dark to even tell what else was inside.

You pushed away from the small cabin and headed toward the one with the oval-shaped awning. It was bigger, at least the front looked like it. There was no door on the cabin, so you were free to walk inside after poking your head in to make sure nobody was actually here. There wasn’t, so you took a quiet step in.

It’s furnished, that’s for sure, with an unlit fireplace directly across the front door, a table and a set of chairs to your right, and an unmade bed to your left. This place looks much more comfortable than your own personal room, but with the lack of a door on the hinges, you decided that maybe privacy had its merits.

You left the cabin, finding nothing of interest except for a clock with its hands forever pointed at 12:00. You set your sights on the dock at the lake and marched towards it.

Lake water laps at the wood that sinks into wet sand, keeping the dock upright and stable as you walk along the rolls of wood.

As you approach the end, you glare out at the horizon that you swore you could’ve seen just a moment ago, at least what could’ve been one. It’s foggy now, like it had coincidentally rolled in at the time you stopped at the edge of the dock. The frown on your face, which had disappeared by the time you had left the second house, returned.

You turn and walk back slowly to the first plank and step onto solid ground, then glance at the lake. The horizon is back in view, and the fog is gone.

Again, you walk back onto the dock and approach the edge of it, watching as the thick mist encroaches as if it had always been there in the first place. It felt suffocating, but not cold.

You turned your head down to the water, which looked like a mirror due to how clear your reflection looked. There’s no sign of the bottom, but you’re certain that if you were to fall in, it isn’t very deep at all.

Just then, something disturbs your reflection. It makes you pause and squint.

Then, a light pressure presses twice on your right shoulder, causing you to jump slightly as you spin around, mindful of the possible fall now behind you. A familiar, hooded face stares at you blankly.

It’s Taph.

Before you have a chance to do or say anything in response to his accidental scare, he motions back toward the main cabin, then turns and begins walking a few steps, only to glance back expectantly.

Oh, you think, relaxing a bit more. Just, oh. You didn’t think anyone wanted to look for you specifically, but if Taph wanted to talk to you one-on-one, you would’ve needed some paper; so it was probably a group thing.

Yay.

You follow behind Taph, back up the stairs to the main cabin, and through the door that was propped open on a door stopper that you didn’t know existed until now. There was a small gathering in the main room, apparent by the sound that came from the kitchen-dining area. The moment you stepped in, Taph peeled away to sit at one of the empty booths.

There was a quiet call of your name, but you could still hear it even over the chattering of the other Robloxians. Nobody really gave you much attention, and you were thankful for that, but Veeronica waved you down where she, Noob, Elliot, and Chance sat.

You approached slowly and nearly stopped when you saw Chance slip out from where he sat next to Elliot. For a moment, you wanted to stop them, tell them it was okay for him to be around you—remind him about the talk you just had—but instead, they gestured for you to take their seat.

You took the seat, feeling a little embarrassed as you returned the friendly smiles the rest of the table gave you. Chance leaned against the table itself, slightly obscuring Vee across from you, but you didn’t get a chance to converse anyway when Builderman and Dusekkar entered the room, calling for attention.

“Everyone here?” Builderman asked, his voice somewhat raised, but not in a shouting manner. He sounded more like a boss or manager than an Admin in this scenario.

At first, you were unsure what this meeting was about. Nobody gave you any warning or heads-up that it was happening today, but you could understand the need to gather everyone and strategize every once in a while—it gave a small sense of camaraderie.

You listened on and off, really tuning in when they talked about counters to certain killers, Guest 1337 noting that he could block c00lkidd’s and Noli’s dashes, but time could only tell when those two found ways to bait out his block.

“Then you could probably block Guest 666’s dash, too.” Chance toyed with a coin between his right hand as he said this, but Guest 1337 only gave them a small frown and crossed his arms in his chair.

“I don’t know about that…” He trailed off, and you took in the soldier’s expression. Either Guest 666 really was that unpredictable, or Guest 1337 didn’t want to try it in the first place out of…fear, maybe. The morbid thought of trying it out yourself crossed your mind, but the prerequisite for gaining his abilities made your stomach churn.

C00lkidd had a dash attack, Noli had a dash attack, and Guest 666 had a dash attack. Who else had a dash attack? Did Veeronica’s skateboard technically count as dashing?

“0H! 1 M1GHT HAV3 S0METH1NG TO M3NTION.” Speaking of Vee, she spoke up across from you, addressing the group from the table you sat at. You were tuned in a little more now that the discussion pertained to a survivor you were closer to.

“Let’s hear it,” Builderman gestured from across the room.

Vee shifted so that her legs were swung outside the booth, angled to face the majority of the group, “F0R SOM3 R34SON, DUR1NG A R0UND, ON3 OF MY SPR4YCAN5 WER3 C0MPL3TELY EMPTY!” She made a whole show with her hands, the screen on her face showing two wide circles as eyes, “S0 DUR1NG TH3 R0UND, 1 COULD ONLY PL4CE TW0 SPR4Y5!"

Some people stared at Vee, others immediately returned to thought at her explanation.

“You sure you didn’t just…forget to restock? Or maybe you grabbed an empty can by accident?” Shedletsky surmised, leaning back in one of the chairs where you’d usually spawn when a round ended.

Vee made a humming noise that almost sounded like an activated microwave. With the way Chance turned his head your way to hide his growing smile, they must’ve thought the same thing.

“N0? I D0N’T TH1NK S0…”

“I…experienced something similar,” a voice you hadn’t heard in a while spoke up next, sitting in the booth behind Veeronica and Noob.

It was 007n7; he was there beforehand, but you hadn’t really acknowledged his presence until now. You hadn’t even talked with him much either, since there wasn’t really a reason for you to do so.

“When I was using my c00lgui to teleport away in a match, it never teleported me.”

The response from 007n7’s addition was different than Vee’s. An uncomfortable silence followed, causing you to inwardly shrink in on yourself at the lack of response.

Though Shedletsky chuckles softly, “guess it’s a bug, then,” he dismisses with a small wave. You swore you could hear 007n7 mumble something, but it was just as the conversation steered in a different topic.

Even so, these happenings felt all too familiar to you. They could blame these small things on whatever they wanted, but you knew it all too well.

It was bad luck.

♥︎♠︎♦︎♣︎

You sat there for a while longer, even after the group meeting had ended(only moving once to let Elliot out of the booth), mulling over Vee’s and 007n7’s revelations in your head. Small things that didn’t happen before you got here; surely people would figure it out in due time. They weren’t stupid.

Chance wasn’t stupid either. They had been around you long enough to know what kind of luck you had. You had known him long enough to know their quirks, and you were sure they knew yours.

Your zone-out session lasted long enough for you to question why you could hear the grandfather clock in the other room, only to realize too late when the room began to shift and the table and booth seat you sat on vanished. Just as earth and a dark, starry sky begin to materialize, you hear the sound of bestial huffing, or maybe sniffing, before you’re left to wonder who the hell it could be.

Blinking quickly, you stand and dust off your jeans while looking around. A little bit of relief washes over you when you see Chance flipping away at their coin, and when they see you, he gives you a pearly grin and a tilt of their fedora.

You wander over across pebbled grass, eyeing the large hole and slope to your right, and pass Chance on your way to the generator he spawned next to.

“First time against Guest 666, right?” Chance says, a clicking or snapping sound reaches your ears right after he asks, then he curses under his breath. You affirm with a small hum and a nod, then kneel in front of the machine. They whistle lowly, one that gives you a dreadful feeling.

“It’s not fun, I’ll tell ya that,” he mutters, flipping his coin still with the constant sound of it lingering behind you. You don’t find it annoying anymore, and it gives you a surprising sense of relief.

After three successful lands in a row, Chance moves to kneel next to you at the generator.

“You’d tell me if something’s botherin’ you, right?”

Your heart jumps at the question, and you stare down at the wires between your fingers, nearly brushing two different colored ends together. Then, you turn your head away, blinking away the look that would probably give it away; yet, knowing Chance, he already knew.

You glanced back down at the wires, but snuck a peek at Chance out of the corner of your eye. They had tucked their face away at their right shoulder, but you could see the edges of a grin.

“No,” you say, truthfully.

“So somethin’ is botherin’ you,” he says, turning their head back to look at you, then down at the generator to connect a few wires. If Builderman were here, or maybe even Guest 1337, they’d probably scold the two of you for talking too much while working on the generator.

Again, you didn’t bother hiding the truth, “kinda. Yeah.”

It was a good feeling, telling Chance things again. And as you two finished the generator, you noticed the grin had not fallen from their face.

You had a sneaking suspicion that Chance was going to press further as the two of you walked cautiously out in the open, but only paused when you felt the unnatural, slow acceleration of your heart. You had gotten used to the feeling, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant.

Chance pointed down at your feet, then beckoned you over to a square-ish building near the center of the sectioned side of the map. A red, transparent wall sat on either side, and a few wooden planks lined the center, allowing easy crossing…but not for you.

You could see through the red passageways, though, and saw that there was a square hole just beneath the wooden boards. Dirt took up most of the underground area, but there were boxes, lanterns, and other items placed about underneath, as well as the faint sound of heavy footfalls.

“She’ll be coming up soon,” Chance spoke, not hushed, but not loud either, “we should head over to the other side.”

You took a bit longer just to hear the sound of a brief, animalistic shriek before hurrying after Chance, who was already moving towards one of two large arches that sat at the center of the map.

The other side looked the same as the place you spawned at, except for a few differences. Further to your left, there was a staircase that led to a somewhat elevated platform with a short drop-off. And to your right, there was another one of those red, transparent doors.

“Oh, shit,” Chance whispered, and you followed his shaded gaze towards the left, just around the slope of one of the holes. A familiar figure limped up the dirt slope, clutching his bleeding side. The two of you hurried over.

Guest 1337 did not stop in his tracks, and there was barely a wince on his face as blood seeped through his fingers.

“Right, yeah, you should learn how t’do this,” Chance murmured, moving forward with a slight frown as Guest 1337 knelt down. You watched for a moment, surprised to see a small roll of bandages just…appear in the palm of their hands.

“You’ll only ever have to deal with hemorrhaging with Guest 666,” he muttered, beginning to wrap Guest 1337’s side, who grunted in either acknowledgement or pain. You only looked at the wound for a moment, then forced your eyes away at the sight, then back again because of morbid curiosity.

The wound was deep. Beastly marks dug into Guest’s side, tearing his usual vest open. The bandages that Chance wrapped around his lower torso weren’t ones that you’d seen from the medkits lying around the map; they were thin and soaked with dark red blood, but they stopped him from bleeding any further.

Just as Chance finished up, and a little color returned to Guest 1337’s face, a howl pierced your ears, plunging the playing grounds into a dark red.

Shadows crept around your eyes, and you looked at Chance and Guest 1337 with confusion and concern, only nervousness or fear flashing across their expressions.

“This happens when he gathers a certain amount of blood.” Guest 1337 got to his feet quickly, gritting his teeth, “we should move, it’s not safe to be—”

You heard him, but you also heard a low-pitched growl, until a sudden weight against your back had you eating dirt. All you could do was attempt to scramble back, but claws were on you in an instant, digging into your skin, at least, they were trying to.

The damage you received wasn’t applied, just as usual. The beast above you gave a howl as he tossed you aside, towards the direction you and Chance had come.

Yet, even if you weren’t hurt, that did not stop the thought of experiencing it later from settling in.

Someone called your name as you scrambled up to your feet, nearly collapsing again, before strong arms scooped you up.

A gunshot pierced the air.

For a moment, you turned your attention back towards Guest 666 and Chance, who disappeared down the drop from where Guest 1337 had come from just a minute ago.

Focus. Focus, they’ll be fine, you thought, returning to your previous worry.

“I-I’m good, I’m fine,” you said quickly, growing antsy in the soldier’s hold. He was injured, you weren’t, and Guest 666 seemed more occupied with the one who stunned her than the two of you.

“But, listen,” you started again, “if I…if I don’t die, I’m going to be bleeding out once the match is over.”

Saying this aloud was still…unnerving. You didn’t mind living through matches; actually, you much preferred it, but that was only the case when you didn’t take such a heavy hit like this.

You watched Guest 1337’s face in the crimson shadow flicker with surprise, until he pursed his lips, almost in thought, but he nodded. At least someone knew. And, hopefully, you’d be taken care of so your fear didn’t come true.

Guest 1337 looked down at his wrist after a moment and frowned, then beckoned you further towards the right side, where the set of stairs you had spotted earlier sat, “up here.”

You followed, anxiously watching the shrouded corners for the sight of the killer—the beast. They were most likely the biggest killer out of the bunch, and it left you sort of at a loss about who else you hadn’t encountered.

The stairs felt like an endless climb, and you frowned at the sight of an unfinished generator next to the drop-off point to the left. You moved first, intending to fix it, but paused at Guest 1337’s warning, “it’s not safe.”

It’d never be safe, you wanted to quip back, but the movement in the red mist just beyond the drop caught your attention, and you scrambled to get away from the generator.

Yet, as you scrambled away towards the steps, Guest 1337 moved toward the danger, arms flying up just as the beast revealed itself with a massive leap. Even though it seemed like Guest 1337 blocked the attack, or at least, you hoped so, Guest 666’s claws scraped against the ground, skidding to a halt.

“GO!” Your companion commanded, and he didn’t have to tell you twice as you jumped down the stairs to follow in Chance’s footsteps—heading down into the underground.

It was much darker than you anticipated due to the redness that still hung in the air, but you could navigate around the large, blocky pillar that sat to your right next to the slope, then deeper in, still hoping to put as much distance as you could between you and the killer.

Although you weren’t expecting it, you spotted someone while passing by a second slope and rounding a corner: Elliot! He was working on a generator, but there were obvious signs of pain in his expression.

“Elliot!” You called out, hurrying over. The pizza boy didn’t jump, but he lifted his head and looked somewhat relieved upon spotting you.

“You need pizza?” He asked, a hand tucking behind him almost instinctively. You shook your head.

“No, no, I, uh, actually… I did get hurt earlier, but my…ability… My passive. The injury didn’t apply. But it will later,” you were still unsure about how to go about with this terminology, “it’s not gonna look good.”

As you told him this, a noise stung your ears, and the red in the air lifted, allowing you to see the underground section clearer than before. Elliot breathed a small sigh of relief, but then froze.

You knew why.

The two of you could hear sniffing, the sound of a beast smelling out its prey, then heavy footsteps that caused dirt to shake loose from the earth above.

You turned your attention towards the right, then up, then paled at the sight of the wooden boards you had spotted earlier. However, just as you began moving, a howl rang in the air, and your vision wavered.

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred, and your head throbbed painfully. Elliot was there in front of you, saying something as loud drums knocked repeatedly close by… And then you felt sharp knives rake down your back, causing you to let out a scream that forced your senses back into place.

“Pizza!” Elliot called out, already a few steps ahead of you. He tossed you the slice, and you caught it while stumbling around the corner where the generator was placed, aiming to run the opposite way from Elliot.

You bite into the slice of pizza while running, hot blood trickling down your back from the very real wounds, but they were beginning to close as the miracle pizza did its work; mending torn skin as if it were a needle to thread, yet it did nothing to stop Guest 666 from stomping close behind.

You knew of only two possible solutions. Guest 1337 had died, and that’s why Guest 666 had gone after you; or, Guest 1337 had evaded Guest 666 enough that she decided to chase someone else instead.

A shocked cry came from your lips as you rounded a corner, dodging the violent snap of fangs in place of where you were a few seconds before.

You ran up the slope, nearly tumbling over your own feet, but not just because of exhaustion, because of Guest 1337’s mauled body lying just a few feet ahead. His torso was nearly ripped apart, and you couldn’t tell where his throat was anymore. But that wasn’t what you were focused on.

His gloves.

They were no longer worn on his own hands, almost like someone had already come by and taken them off for you, when that couldn’t be the truth. You plucked them from the grass and tugged them on, just in time to hear that low-pitched snarl from earlier.

You mimicked Guest 1337’s action from before, throwing your arms up to nearly cover your face just as the beast launched forward. It felt like your entire body wanted to follow the force of Guest 666 backward, but was rooted in the ground. Invigorated, you clenched your fist and ran up to the slightly confused killer and threw a punch.

He let out a shriek, staggering for a moment while its red tail twitched irritably. You didn’t find that punch as gratifying as you thought, but you hurried away down the slope again, nearly out of breath.

Anxiously, you checked your wrist and swallowed dry at the sight of only forty seconds left.

Forty seconds for you to make a decision that could relieve you of some mortifying pain. But going through it meant living it now.

You slowed a bit, navigating underneath the underground as the heavy footfalls of Guest 666 became a steady rhythm you began to grow accustomed to.

The mental clock was ticking loudly, and you clenched your fists tight, forcing your feet to move faster. Faster. There was that low growl again, and you saw the clock as you pulled your arms up to your face again.

Ten seconds.

Another force brought you face-to-face with Guest 666, blocking her attack while nearly up against the wall. Maybe it was instinct, or they understood how you worked already, but he moved to the side, as if evading an almost knowing punch.

But you didn’t swing, only ran the other way.

And as the map dimmed, you braced for the pain as it bloomed across your body.