#tmp 2

Y/N sat up in the moonlight, shook their head and put a hand up…well, not a hand, per se. It was more of a coarse, fabric nub? It came back to them after a second or two.

The hotel. Which, as a matter of fact, was now no more than a smoldering pile of rubble.

And the game…had Y/N won it?

“Congrats.” Came a voice from behind them. “You better do something good with all that money…I don’t give it away for nothing. Juuuuust the ones who survive.”

Up walked a towering man, much larger than he already was in Y/N’s eyes. He got on one knee, brushing some ashes off of his surprisingly-still-pristine suit. “Quit looking at me like that. You’re alive, you should be grateful.” His tone turned bitter, and his black-and-white eyes flashed with a little bit of red.

“…You killed my friends. YOU RUINED ALL OF THEM, just because they couldn’t win your SICK GAME—“ Y/N began, floundering their purple limbs and tugging on the “jester’s bells” on their head now and then.

“Hey, hey, listen. I did do that, and I did have fun with it. But now, I’ll send you back home, rebuild this place and start over. Nothing you have to worry about anymore.” The murderer chuckled, his voice modulated just the same as before.

“Not even any damage to your body. You’ll be in your bed in 10 minutes.” He fiddled with his knife.

Tears blurred Y/N’s cotton eyes, and the next thing they knew, they were trying to dial the nearest number on [REDACTED]’s cracked phone…oddly kind of him. “Can’t believe you have one of these…” they shuddered, then managed to tap out the digits.

Ring…ring…ring…

The killer walked away, still messing with his weapon. Y/N was pretty sure he licked the blood off it before squinting…probably imagining what the rebuilt hotel would look like.

Click.

“Ugh…what is it…?”

Their…their friend was still alive? But Y/N had just seen that orange doll be swallowed into the darkness 5 minutes ago! Or maybe it was 10…the explosion did mess up their sense of time, after all.

“Hey…um, are you doing OK?” Y/N asked. The response was simple.

“Just…had a nightmare. I was a tiny doll getting stabbed for trivia questions or something…I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. My chest hurts and I wanna go back to sleep.”

Chest hurts. Did it have anything to do with [REDACTED] mentioning the souls of his “players” at the start of the game? Maybe. “Well…that’s OK. Goodnight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Night.” Y/N heard a click, and that was that.

[REDACTED] returned and scooped up the little doll, patting them on the head. “You know…you were pretty. Saw you when I nabbed your soul and all. Might take off the mask and find you out again…when do you get off work?”

Y/N could hardly believe what they were hearing, but…considering that this guy was, for some reason, not actually killing anyone (not permanently)…and he was actually kind of funny, now that they thought of it…

“…5-ish. Meaning I have to get to sleep around now.” They crossed their small arms, just before being poked in the eye with the knife.

“OW!” Y/N sat up again…covering their eye with a human hand, this time. They were back in their bed, like he’d promised…and like nothing had happened.

…Huh.

Time to make a dinner reservation, they figured. Or, maybe that crazy guy would make it for them.