Chapter Text
Is that what you were looking for?
Dignity in your death? Which one?
What makes you think you’re so worthy?
When did I say I thought I was worth it?
I will sit, waiting again for my cue. I cannot hear and cannot see. I will be kept here for just under an hour, just waiting.
For now I will pace like a dog in this cage. Waiting and waiting. Gnawing and gnawing.
The scent of rot fills my nose and lingers on my tongue. It's disgusting.
It is your friend.
Did you find what you were looking for?
No, I haven’t. I don’t think I ever will. There is no dignity in this hellish repetition.
The tarp is lifted. They know what will happen thirty-two minutes from now. I know too.
I will be killed again. No one will bat an eye. I’m simply disposable. They’ll see me again soon.
But they will not see you after that.
They will, but barely.
They won’t care. You’ll already be dead. They only care about the living. They’re more interesting when they can scream and squirm.
And you are already dead.
You died months ago. You have not been alive in a very long time.
But I’m alive now.
Not for long.
I don’t have time for this.
You have all the time in the world.
Shut up. We both know that’s not true.
What do you do while you’re dead?
You don’t just wait. You think. That’s all you can do.
…
You know I’m right.
Shut up.
Have you found it yet?
Like this? Chained down and forced to wait even more? Absolutely not.
At least you have your eyes opened.
Not for long. Right?
Right.
It’s so fucking quiet. Can someone say something? Anything?
Why don’t you?
…
You don’t know what to say?
Do you?
No. I never will.
Neither will I.
There’s the screaming.
Stop flinching.
I can’t.
I don’t care how many times I hear it. It shakes me to my core.
I can smell it. That stench of death just through that door.
Are you sure it's not from you?
I told you I’m not dead.
You just were.
But I’m not. Right now I am alive. There are people that can see me. There are people that know I am alive.
They’re the same as you.
Just disposable faces. This is the first and last time they will see you.
Whatever.
They’re dead right beside you.
They don’t get dignity either.
It’s just fun for them. It is fun to watch their suffering.
They are letting this happen.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
It does, and you know that.
They want dignity too, you know. They just want to be remembered and saved and held.
Be quiet. Here he comes.
Here they come.
Remember to smile.
Absolutely not.
There’s nothing to smile about?
There never is.
Right. Just trying to help.
You’re not.
It’s locked. Of course it’s fucking locked.
It always is.
Here it comes. Barreling just down the hall. It’s got their hunger.
I can see that.
Just lay down now. It’ll hurt less.
And let it be satisfied?
Hell no.
Then don’t complain when it’s excruciating.
When it takes a few agonizing seconds for every last bit of your blood to leave your body.
Go on. Feign heroics.
…
Disposable.
Disposable. Disposable.
Stop. Stop it. Stop talking.
Do you hear him?
You are dead. You don’t hear shit.
I hear him. I hear him, don’t you?
I know you do.
You can’t do anything about it.
I’ll try.
You are dead. There is no trying.
Stop saying I’m dead. I’m not. I’m not. I’m not.
I am the most alive I’ve ever been.
Keep telling yourself that.
He spent the first day in the dark, moving only when his body allowed it, moving only when he was demanded to. He stayed on script, he stayed good. He played along.
He had no choice.
The second day, however, Sneeg got just the smallest taste of something that just vaguely resembled freedom. It was the furthest thing from it, but the idea alone was enough to light the flame within him.
Panicked, he looked to his left and right taking in the goreish site of his friend’s body on the gurney in front of him. He lay just beyond the chain link fence, a physical barrier that clashed with the mental one.
Charlie, what the fuck did they do to you? Ranboo didn’t do this, no, he wouldn’t. Never .
He couldn’t reach him, but he could smell the awful, all too familiar metallic scent of blood. He was screaming, but no one was reacting. Why wasn’t anyone reacting? Someone make him stop, stop laughing, do something!
He saw a flicker, too, just behind Charlie, blurred by the movement of the people outside of this cage he was in, that was… him? Some ghostly visage that looked like him stood and stared. Its torso was bloodied and mangled. It whispered something he could barely hear. Get up.
He pulled together some shitty lie as the carousel turned, indicating his turn to speak, and it was enough, barely, to get him up and out of his restraints. Even then, he didn’t run right away. He found Ranboo, still just out of his grasp.
He clung to that fence, staring the Hero down with eyes so afraid and so wide.
“I’ll be right back, okay?”
He wanted to tell him he’d save him and soon they’d be out of here. Too much to say.
There wasn’t enough time to say all the things he wanted. Who knew how far he would get now. He turned and ran. He ran as fast as his legs would take him. The others were talking to him but their words flew past him like a flock of birds, all except distant whispers that sounded so much like his own voice.
The world was so clear to him now. Part of him wished it wasn't.
Part of him wished that this never happened, that that stupid hat was never put back on him. He wanted to just shut his eyes and pretend he was the only thing that existed in the dark of the void.