Chapter Text
Jasons attention snaps back to the road when he notices a ticket booth at the entrance of the college parking lot. This comes across as awfully strange to him, and checks to make sure he is at the right building.
He looks out into the sky at a distance, and sees a large sign with golden uppercase letters saying CYPRESS UNIVERSITY.
Yes, he is.
Jasons car is halted by a barrier designed like a candy cane extending from the ticket booth. Inside, a security guard, who's face is etched with wrinkles, sits on a stool. Through a speaker, the man tells Jason he needs to pay the one dollar fee to receive a parking ticket.
This isn't a problem for him, but the order to pay for one is bordering on unnecessary. "Am I really on the campus of Cypress University? I wouldn't think this place would need the funds..." He glances back and forth between the guard and the large buildings. After a long time of hearing no response from the guard, Jason says, "So, you have a name?"
The man grunts. "Billy. Pay the fee or find another place to have small talk." The man points to a sticker on the glass panel. It reads:
Daily Parking Fee:
1$
Jason squints his eyes to make sure he read that correct.
...Once again, yes.
He pulls out his phone, and holds it near the opening in the window. "Do you take apple pay?" He laughs, attempting to ease tension. "I don't have any physical cash right now..."
Billy makes eye contact with Jason, scanning his face, probably wondering what went wrong during his childhood. Without a word, Billy takes Jason's IPhone in hand, and hovers it over the card terminal. "Enter your PIN." He turns the terminal around so the screen is facing Jason, and he enters his very unique PIN.
1112
Billy hands the phone back to Jason, along with a parking stub that reads:
PARKING ADMITTANCE
ONE USE
Jason flips the piece of metal (which he finds strange for a one-use object) and is confused to see a timer that is continuously changing.
TIME REMAINING
23:59:43
He almost convinced himself it wasn't real, and that he was hallucinating. Apparently this school was more tech savvy than he pictured. That information wasn't stated on the Uni's website or any other reliable source, but it's a pleasant surprise nonetheless.
A knock on his window to pulls him away from the ticket. "Hey, buddy, you gotta move!" Billy is glaring at Jason, standing halfway out of his seat. Jason too decides it's time to drive in and begin this new chapter in his life. What a nice way to start: An old man shouting at him!
As Jason drives further into campus, maneuvering his way through multiple turns, he takes note of how modern and slick the location is, but at the same time how full of life and color the trees and plant life are. It is far more impressive than the pictures like to reveal, and he now feels it was almost obligation to pay the parking fee to get a chance of seeing it's beauty everyday.
After maybe 10 minutes of wrong turns and missing the address, Jason located his residence hall. Upon his entrance, he is greeted with high ceilings and pleasant furniture. Sofas are strung about, a few grouped with nice televisions. Some students have their PS5's hooked up to them.
As Jason delves further into the common area, he spots a kitchen consisting of stainless steel appliances, and an island with a second sink. A few cafe tables are surrounding it.
He turns to his right, and finds an elevator. Next to it, a chart stating which dorm numbers are on which floors catches Jason's attention. He studies it for a few seconds before finding his number. C-404, Room number 4 on the 4th floor located in residence building C. Jason found this to be quite poetic for no reason whatsoever besides the fact that the number four was repeated twice. What? It has a ring to it...
He steps into the elevator, and it acends. The machine comes to a stop, and he steps out. Still impressed with how clean and straight everything is, he walks along the large hallway, glancing on each side of him until he finds room 04. This happens almost immediately.
Jason pulls a key out of his back pocket that was mailed to him not even a week before, and turns the lock. Pushing the door open, his sense of contempt shatters once his view comes into contact with... a stranger.
Jason forgot that dorm rooms are typically shared between two people. The thought must have slipped his mind because of all the smoke and mirrors the school has presented itself with so far, he assumed that all dorms would be individual housing. Jason blames his faulty train of thought.
Jason furthers himself into the room, seating himself on the empty bed opposite to...
"Hey, I'm Jason. What's yours?" Jason hops off the bed not much longer than he had sat on in, and walks to the middle of the room.
The stranger is wearing headphones, skull candy, Jason notes, and waves his hand in the man's field of vision.
/////////////////////////
An ugly hand pokes into Patrick's vision. He regrettably removes his Sennheiser headphones, and looks at the thing. "Yes? Hello? What is it?"
The man deflatedly lowers his arm. "I was just asking for your name, since we are roommates now."
Patrick sighs in relief, remembering he was transferring dorms next week due to a technicality he isn't completely in-the-know of right now. "My name is Patrick." He places his headphones back on, and continues to skim through the newest issue of Entertainment Weekly. The sound of Two Step by Dave Matthews Band suffocates the fresh feeling of stress.
This strategy fails, because only seconds later is the pest tapping on his shoulder now, expectantly waiting for Patrick to answer another question. He reluctantly removes his headphones once again. He looks at the man deadpan.
"I also use Skull Candy headphones- or well, I use their earbuds, but still. You listen to music a lot?"
Confusion sweeps across Patrick's face. "What makes you think I use SkullCandy? That brand is far too... mass produced. I only use Sennheiser."
His face turns bright pink. After an awkward silence he says, "Well, it was nice to meet you, Patrick." As he walks back to his side of the room.
Patrick, for the last time, places his headphones back on. He can hear a faint muffled voice say something, but the sound of Radiohead drowns it out.
///////////////
Jason hesitates before saying, "My name is Jason, by the way." Patrick doesn't respond to this, nor does he appear to register anything was said. The thought would annoy Jason, but an alarm goes off on his phone, alerting him that his first class is starting in 15 minutes.
He looks at his calendar app, and today he only has one class which is...
PRINCIPLES OF CHEMICAL SCIENCE
10:30 AM - 11:40 AM
He sighs, locking his phone. Jason isn't too fond of this class, and he can't quite recall why he enrolled in it. There is one class he does look forward to, but that isn't until later in the week.
He gathers his things, which consist of a JanSport backpack containing a 5 year old MacBook covered in stickers of random bands and brands he doesn't recognize, a water bottle, and a charging case holding Skull Candy earbuds. A few loose papers and other object are flung about inside, too.
Jason walks up to the main building of the school, only now noticing how much he underestimated the size of the thing. It's about four or five stories tall, and could easily be mistaken as a castle from a Disney movie. Jason stares up in awe, once again finding himself taking in the unexpected beauty of the place that pictures simply cannot capture.
A few students brush past him, and he is brought out of his staring contest with the building. Jason steps inside, already knowing how wonderful the interior will be. Staircases off to his right and left and wonderful lighting that doesn't shed a painful view on every unappealing deatil of ones face.
Jason looks down at a small piece of paper in his hand. A number scribbled down onto it reads: B-210. Hall B, Second floor, room ten. Jason looks around for a map of the place, knowing there is no way in hell he could find it in time on his own, but gives up pretty quick. He resorts to asking actual people.
Jason taps on the shoulder of someone with a mohawk, which he finds very... 2000's, but he doesn't hate it, not at all in fact. The man spins around, and catches Jason's gaze. "Sorry to bother you, it's just that I'm new to this place, and I'm having some trouble finding hall B."
"Oh, shit I'm going there right now!" The man seems to light up at Jason's question, which throws him off a little. "This place is pretty easy to move through after a few weeks."
A wave of relief washes over Jason, and he begins to walk alongside the stranger. After maybe a minute and a half of a calm silence, the man says, "My name is Vaas, by the way." He extends his hand to Jason.
He returns the handshake. "I'm Jason."
A few people give Vaas some questioning looks. They hold fear, or at least some small level of it. Jason can only guess it is because of his appearance, because Vaas has been pretty chill so far.
The rest of the walk continues in silence until they reach the entrance of the chemistry class. Inside is a large room with lines of chairs, descending downwards each row. At the bottom, the professor is writing something on the whiteboard that is too far away for Jason to read.
Jason and Vaas take seats on the back row, along with a handful of other students. The class has maybe 40 students, most of them scattered about the front rows.
The bald tracher stops writing on the whiteboard, and steps out of it's way so everyone can read it. (Besides Jason)
"Hello everybody. My name is Walter White. Welcome to Principles of Chemical Science. " A few students mumble a 'hello'.
Walter waves awkwardly waves his hand above his head. "Um, I'm sorry but can I get you students at the back row to please move forward a bit. You may not be able to read the board most days, and I'd like to know I have your full attention." His voice has a faint trimble, signaling he's not too confident in his authority around his own students.
A voice to Jason's far left says, "Yeah, no thanks. This course was mandatory, I don't even want to be here." The man is wearing circular framed glasses, and is wearing a suit that seems all too professional for this Disney castle, but would fit right in at Yale or MIT.
Professor White's jaw drops a little, and for a moment Jason though he had given up. To his surprise, Walter White stands up against his own student. "Sir, I will ask you-" He points to Jason and Vaas. "-and you two one last time, to please move up a few rows."
Jason shrugs, then stands up collecting his backpack. Vaas looks up at Jason, pondering for a second, then decides to follow. Glasses doesn't budge.
A smirk is slapped across his face. "Well, what now? I'm still sitting here, and I doubt you can walk up these stairs to make me move before class ends." He crosses his arms while leaning back in his chair.
Mr. White stutters. "What is your name, young man?" The entire class is looking back, fully immersed in whatever this is.
"Paul Allen." He spits out.
"Well, Paul, please leave my class. You should receive a course change form through your email in the next 48 hours." Walter focuses his attention back to the larger class. "Now I apologize for that-"
"You know what?" He stands up. "Fine, whatever. I'll listen to your stupid rules, but only because this is a required class, and not because you told me to." Paul begins to walk down the stairs, and seats himself three rows down, once again aligned with Vaas and Jason, only on the other side of the room.
Walter shoots him a condescending smile, and begins to ramble on about the syllabus and class procedures.
Jason drowns the noise out by turning to Vaas. "You know that guy?"
Vaas jerks his head up, probably being pulled out of a daydream. "Who? That asshole with the glasses?" Vaas peers over across Jason to get a good view of Paul. "Yeah, yeah I know him. Fuckin' prick."
Jason wonders how 'popularity' works at this school. Today being his first glimpse inside, he has no idea how it works. Most would assume college would be more mature than high school drama, and they would be right sometimes. Other times, it seems nearly the same with the asshole students. He can tell Paul is varying to some degree of what you could call a sterotypical 'insecure popular kid', with the inflated sense of ego and willingness to piss off a teacher for his own amusement.
"Is he always like that?" Jason questions.
Vaas sits up. "No, no. He's not 'like' that, he 'is' that. He's a fucking asshole. I've talked to him,one on one, multiple times, and I still don't understand what makes him think hes so fucking special, that he gets to bitch about fucking everything." Jason leans back a little, almost intimidated by Vaas's sure of anger.
Jason relaxes. "So you know this guy on a personal level?"
Disgust sweeps over Vaas. "If you call beating him up a few times personal, then yeah. I know the guy pretty well. He hasn't made eye contact with me in weeks, he's that scared."
//////////////
Patrick finds himself late to class, which he isn't bothered by. After a few minutes of deciding whether or not to go, he decides that he wants to finish the class and get his degree.
When Patrick enters the building, the halls are completely empty. This is unusual behavior for the campus, but he brushes it off, deciding that he doesn't actually care.
He reaches the south wing and starts to walk up the stairs, but is stopped by someone wearing a pink hat labeled Hall Monitor in shiny gold text. His shirt is a blinding neon green accompanied by a sash across his chest with the same design as the hat.
Patrick tries to move past the eyesore blocking his path, but the the man moves in front of him again. Eventually, he gives up, and walks down the stairs.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Patrick reaches the ground floor again, and turns to answer. "Away from-" he waves his hand the guys direction. "-this."
"Nice try, pal, but you're going to have to show me you have a pass to be out roaming the building during restricted time periods."
"No, thanks." Patrick walks away, frustrated, but also confused. Number one, this is a university not an elementary school, so why is there a fucking hall monitor? Number two, what the hell are restricted time period's?
The hall monitor unclips a radio from his belt. "This is Baldi, we've got a 10-80 in progress. I need backup at the south wing of the school. He's headed towards the library as we speak." Baldi clicks off the radio, and watches from a distance as Patrick is tackled to the ground by two security guards seconds after his call.
He walks up to Patrick, grinning down at him. "Scum like you make me sick. The dean works so hard for all of you, and this is how you repay him." He shakes his head disapprovingly. "This will go on your permanent record, Patrick."
Patricks eyes fly wide open as he continues attempting to free himself from the grasp of the security guards. "What the hell happened to this place? I don't remember it being this..."
"This wonderful? Regulated? I understand you're speechlessness is due to how..." He gasps as he gazes above at the high, prestine ceilings. "wonderful this school is."
Both of the guards lift Patrick up by his arms, and pin them behind his back. "What the fuck are you talking about? It's a FUCKING UNIVERSITY! First Joseph FUCKING SEED, NOW THIS... HALL MONITOR BULLSHIT! FUCK YOU!" The guards drag Patrick away as he continues to ramble aimlessly about the school. Baldi can't help but feel a twinge of pride swell up inside his chest.
"Oh, this place is so beautiful." He wipes a single tear off his cheek, and continues walking back to the stairs.
//////////////
Joseph splashes his face with water and takes a deep breath. His hands tremble as he grips the sides of the sink. Looking straight into the mirror he intensely stares at himself, taking in how obviously nervous he is.
Retaining eye contact, he whispers, "I am here to lead you 'all' out of Pagan Min's iorn grip on-" He stops, understanding how dramatic it sounds. "I am here to lead you all out of the flames of Pagan Min's destruction, and into the light of peace." Nope, still too much.
He bows his head for a few seconds, squeezing his eyes shut, then looks back to the mirror. "I WILL KILL WHOEVER DARES CONCEAL OUR SENSE OF SAFETY AND COMFORT ON THIS CAMPUS-" He sighs. "...metaphorically..."
The muffled sound of voices spill in through the bathroom door, and Joseph spins himself around, breathing heavily. A very average looking guy walks in, appearing very concerned for Joseph's physical state.
They lock eyes, and Joseph attempts to make a casual break for the exit, but bumps into a pole, causing him to rub his forehead in pain.
"Oh shit, are you okay? You don't look too great..."
Joseph grunts. "I'm... perfectly fine. I was only practicing a speech I must give my fellow students this afternoon."
The man perks up and smiles."Oh, wait, you're that hippy dude who's trying to get everyone to overthrow the staff, right!?" He laughs. "You don't stand a chance against people who get paid to work here. It's not a political debate or something..."
Suddenly, Joseph forgets about his possible concussion, and walks up to the man with fury in his eyes. "You don't understand. Pagan Min believes he knows what is right for this university, but he doesn't." A pause. "I do."
His jaw drops open, amused by Joseph's commitment to his beliefs. "What did you say your name was? I've gotta tell people about this." He holds up his IPhone. "Make sure to look at the camera, if you know what that is."
Joseph stares into the camera for an even five seconds. He tells the camera, deadpan, "My name is Joseph Seed."
The guy taps a couple times on the screen while Joseph stands all too close, watching from the back of the phone. He puts it in his back pocket and refocuses his attention to Joseph.
"So, you gonna let me out of here? You're blocking the doorway."
Joseph doesn't budge. "I can't allow that, not now." He reaches for his boot and pulls out a small blade.
The man's eyes grow wide with fear, and Joseph doesn't care that he is screaming. He stabs both of the man's eyes, then goes for his heart. Blood spurts out of his stab wounds, but Joseph remains untouched by the red substance because he was fast enough to step aside in time.
The nameless man falls to the floor in an ear splitting scream, and when he lands the sounds of metal clanks against the floor, reminding Joseph of the phone. He finds it had fallen under the sink, so he pockets it, and makes sure to clean off the blood from his blade.
Joseph leans over the bloody body and whispers near it's ear in an almost comforting tone. "You misunderstood me, but I forgive you. Now and forever." He pets the man's head a couple times before standing back up and exiting the bathroom.
Before him is the cafe littered with different restaurant chains and others, not so famous. People crowd the area, and most tables are filled with students conversing and eating. He breathes in the air, and nearly vomits.
//////////////
Paul enters the cafe, and his direction is immediately drawn to a strange looking food stall with a large white board above it with big red letters spelling out: MEAT!
He taps Timothy Bryces' shoulder. "What the hell is that place?"
Bryce trurns around. "Oh. The guy that runs that place is super creepy. I hear he serves human meat, but no one bothers to prove it."
Paul smirks. "How come I haven't seen it before? It doesn't matter, I'm gonna go check it out." As he walks away, he turns to Bryce and says, "Oh, save me a seat, and make sure it's outside!"
He reaches the MEAT! stall, and finds that there is no one near. Paul rings a bell that is sitting next to the cash register, and a man pops out from under the counter. "Oh, I apologize for not being ready at my post. I can assure you it will not happen again."
Paul holds back a laugh, and merely smiles. "Oh, don't worry about it..." He looks around. "Is there a, uh, menu?"
"I am afraid not. I only serve one dish here, and I must warn you, I am a professional culinary artist, so be prepared for the greatest dish your taste buds have ever experienced."
"Well" Paul squints to read the man's comically large chef hat, which has a name printed across the band. "Hannibal... interesting name, by the way, what dish will you be serving me?"
Hannibal disappears into the kitchen, and Paul is left waiting for him. "What the hell?"
//////////////
Joseph decides that right now he would rather not want to worry about a dead body, courtesy of himself, found in one of the bathrooms, so he goes to the one person who can help.
He walks up to the MEAT! stand and hops over the counter while eyeing a stranger standing there awkwardly. "I work here, I just forgot my key to the back door. I apologize if I disturbed you in any way." The stranger murmurs something like 'oh yeah, you work here', but Joseph is already in the kitchen, and decides to ignore it.
He spots Hannibal checking his refrigerator, and calls out his name. "Hannibal, I have a problem that should be dealt with immediately. It may ruin very important things that are of my concern."
Hannibals back is turned to him while he looks at various packaged meats. "I'm sorry, but I cannot help you. I have a customer for the first time in ages, and I do not wish to disappoint."
Joseph sighs. "Yes, I understand the position I have just put you in..." He walks up to him, hoping his voice is quiet enough. "I killed a man."
Hannibal stops in place, and places a packaged meat back while closing the fridge. "What is the issue here?"
"His body is lying in the bathroom not even 30 feet away, and I do not desire to be caught."
Hannibal turns to face him. "Why did you do this, Joseph?"
"The man was pestering me and my concerns for the schools wellbeing. I may have gotten carried away with the stabbing, but he needed to go."
Hannibal nods. "I'm sorry, Joseph, but I cannot help you."
"But you can, your husband works with the FBI, and I know he has done things to protect you."
"Yes, good observation, but you are not my husband. I will not bend over backwards, covering up a murder for a man I do not know. I merely respect your ambition, nothing more." He has walked over to a marble counter, and pulls out a knife. "Maybe this will be a good lesson for you, Joseph. You need stability, and a police investigation might be exactly what your looking for."
He stammers. "N- no, what I need, is for the people out there to support me-" He points to the exit. "-and that cannot happen if I am strapped to an electric chair."
Hannibal is examining a large kitchen knife now, gazing at it's reflection. "What tool did you use to murder the man?"
Joseph takes a deep breath in, and heads for the exit. "I will return very soon, Hannibal."
"Excellent, I could use the company!"
//////////////
Patrick wakes up feeling extremely cold and groggy. His eyes open with a sharp pain when a deadly light floods his vision. He raises an arm across the view, and sits up, noticing that he is lying on a concrete floor.
"Oh good, you're awake."
Patrick yelps in fear, backing up until he hits a brick wall. On the wall across, a man in a pink suit is sitting on a metal chair with a similar metal desk in front. A single piece of paper and a pen is lying on the desk.
Patrick sweeps his hair out of his eyes, becoming unfathomably frustrated because his hair got messed up when the guards tackled him to the ground. "Where the fuck am I?"
The man light-heartedly laughs. "You are in a containment room. This isn't regular procedure, but I have been making some changes to campus recently, and this is one of them." He gestures towards a metal chair on the other side of the table. "Please, Take a seat. I doubt the cold concrete is any better."
"I'll just stay here. I understand that me deciding to sit here may piss you off, so we are on the same page."
He frowns. "Oh, must you be so stubborn?" He reaches under the table, and Patrick hears a faint click. A large man bursts through a door to Patrick's right, and he lifts him up off the ground by his arms.
Patrick struggles to escape his grasp, and for the second time today he finds himself being overpowered by another man.
Patrick screams, "GET THE HELL OFF ME." As the guard places him in the chair, strapping his wrists down to the sides of it.
"Okay, buddy, just calm down and your mommy will pick you up from school." The guards pouts his lips mockingly, then walks out of the room as Patrick continues spewing insults about his appearance.
Five minutes pass by, and Pagan Min apparently decides that he has given Patrick enough time to scream. "Please, stop."
Patrick falls silent, and a smile spreads across his face. "Okay, okay old man, I will. Just tell me why I'm here and how I can leave."
"Ooh, so eager! I love seeing school spirit, but now is not the time to be smiling. You violated the new student handbook, and this has not gone unnoticed."
"Yes, I am positive my violation has been noticed. A skinny PRICK noticed! Where is he right now? I need to have a chat with him."
"Baldi, yes. He is a wonderful addition to the schools staff. Only 21, and he is set for life here at Cypress." He smiles. "I'm very proud of him."
Patrick grumbles. "What is the contract for?"
"I just want you to sign this document stating that you will abide by Cypress Universities codes and rulebooks from here on." He slides the pen over to Patrick's side of the table.
The same guard walks in with a smirk on his face, unfastening the right hand buckle. When Patrick's single hand is free, he aggressively reaches for the guards neck, but is too slow.
Pen in hand, Patrick skims over the contract. "Why is there so much information on here? This is all so... over-the-fucking-top." He grimaces at the paper.
"Because, I don't enjoy being sued for petty things. I'm sure you understand." Patrick hums in agreement.
A few seconds go by, and he decides that it's the contract or death in this room (he assumes), so he signs. Patrick throws the pen behind him, and smiles when he hears the plastic hit the ground.
Pagan Min takes the paper off the table, and holds it up in the light to examine Patrick's signature. "I should also mention that you will take a mandatory class called Cypress Pride in which you will plan events and other things in honor of the school, and sometimes me."
Patrick's jaw drops. "That's not happening." The guard, once again, walks in, and allows Patrick freedom the chairs containment. He charges for the guard, but a swift punch to the forehead knocks him out clean.
Pagan Min unclips a radio from his belt and holds it up to his mouth. "Make sure the isolation cell is ready, you have a new visitor."