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Life was good, everything was good.
“My love?” Elliot breathed, his blond curls streaming down his cheeks as he buried his nose deeper into the crook of 007n7’s neck, fingers curled within the locks of his partner’s hair as he tried to urge the other male awake.
“Mmm...?” The burger man hummed, his eyelids fluttering open, staring out the window ahead as the sunlight filtered through. Right, it’s morning—they need to make breakfast for the kids before school. “Alright...I’m up.... I’m up.” A yawn escaped his lips as one of his palms reached up to rub the sleep from his heavy eyes, while hearing his beloved husband snicker. “Don’t start, you have work too, ya bum.”
That earned an eyeroll from the pizza man.
But he couldn’t complain.
How could he?
Elliot had everything he could’ve asked for! A loving husband, kids of his own—even if they weren’t related by blood—and a comfortable lifestyle with an amazing job that he loved dearly, supportive friends and family, basically everything he ever wanted—and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He loved his kids, C00lkidd, Pr3ttypriincess and Bluudud, having stood up to care for them with his beloved husband, 007n7, when no one else would.
He didn’t care if they looked far from a normal robloxian, because he loved them, all of them. They were his kids, officially adopted by him, alongside his partner, 007n7. Sure, their relationship at first was rather rough around the edges, with a few grudges and bans, but that was long ago, and it wasn’t something Elliot was willing to uphold against the man and those kids.
Forgiveness was everything to him, you don’t have to forgive and forget, you just have to forgive those who wronged you in the past to not let them drive your future. Sure, they may have done bad things, terrible things even, but Elliot had learned a long time ago that holding that hatred and grudge won’t do much for you, it just meant that they won, that they meant something to have impacted you so much, to have stained you with their name until it is no longer a bad memory, but a brand of victory. Forgiving them shows you won, you didn’t let them impact your life, your choices—that their problems won't become yours, because you’re better than them. That’s what Elliot always told himself at least.
He was happy he chose to forgive them, because then he learned about them, saw what their personal lives were like, saw him. 007n7 had changed, reformed into a sweeter—kinder man, the man Elliot fell in love with. Of course, at the time, he was in denial—but he could only ignore the truth for so long, until it caught up to him in a messy confession turned into a night of passion. It was a shock, to the both of them, but the love was real, and Elliot wouldn’t change anything about that night.
The following day he lifted the ban, just to have his heart swell whenever his partner walked into the restaurant, sometimes with just the kids, other times with their uncle tagging along—someone by the name of Noli, who Elliot quickly became friends with. Though, there were still times when he wondered if 007n7 would ever go back to hacking, of course it’s not something he’d outright support, there’s still a possibility—but knowing his husband, that possibility was slim to none.
Noli was—the chaotic kind, very talkative, but also protective of those he cared about, which Elliot liked, because it meant there was someone else there for 007n7 for when he wasn’t. Then he’d go on to meet 007n7’s sister, 118o8. She was rather sweet, in his opinion, extremely caring too—which later shocked him when he met 007n7’s parents, one of them was an alcoholic who cared too much about reputation when it had already been broken, and a mother who didn’t bat an eye even when her child was screaming bloody murder for her aid.
It made him sick, knowing 007n7 and 118o8 were related to these people. Then came the chill cousin, 007e7, a rather pretty funny guy, someone Elliot easily got along with. Then he met 226w6, a friend of 007n7, who helped often when it came to watching the kids, the person had his respect for such an act. Other than his partner’s parents, he got along with everyone else, which made things easier for him. There was one person who he had to thank the most, however, that person’s name was C00lgui, a former friend of 007n7’s, who had long passed onto the other side. If it weren’t for them, 007n7 wouldn’t have been here to begin with.
He could recall the preparations they planned for their wedding, how 007n7’s sister and cousin helped with the invitations, Noli watched the kids while they planned, and his little sister, Mia, helped with the placement in decor. It was nice, having help from other family, even his father, Mr. Builder, helped with the costs—but there was two people Elliot never heard from, never bothered to help and didn’t even attend the wedding.
Now that he thinks about it, he was rather glad they didn’t attend, because when he met them, 007n7’s parents, they seemed harsh, cold—the father seemed demanding, requesting the wedding be the opposite of what Elliot and 007n7 had planned. He saw how his partner shrunk under their father’s presence, which only irritated him more, it’s why he made sure they didn’t get invitations—much less the location of where the wedding would be held, to ensure they didn’t disrupt the celebration.
He remembered the day him and 007n7 got married, the day he walked down the aisle and spoke his vows, before sliding the ring onto his now-to-be husband. It was a memory that lived freely in his mind, a memory that showed the happiest day of his life, the day 007n7 took his last name and joined the family. If someone told him he’d be marrying the same exploiter who terrorized his restaurant when he was still 18, he’d think they were lying. If it hadn’t been for Noli being an amazing wingman, Elliot doesn’t think him and 007n7 would have ever gotten together. It was a miracle, a blessing after the storm had passed, a wish come true.
His life felt complete, whole, until everything began to fall apart, one death at a time. It started with the kids, his dear children, disappearing in the blink of an eye, with no trace to their whereabouts. Desperate phone calls, missing posters and aid from friends and family alike, to find their kids. Clue after clue, only for every single one to lead to a dead end, letting hours fade into days and days melt into weeks with no signs. Everyone in the family was desperate, including a specific friend—Noli.
Elliot knew the man loved those kids dearly, watching as he went out looking for them while Elliot and his husband put up missing posters. He saw the desperation in the man’s eyes, the fear of something bad happening, the same look his husband gave him. But happy endings aren’t always real. Two weeks and three days, that's how long the kids had been missing, only to be found dead—dismembered and discarded carelessly, with a note rambling on about cleaning the world of monstrous robloxians.
It broke everyone in the family, leaving behind cries of pain and guilt among those who cared. It scarred its path through those who searched, and others who prayed. It was the outcome no one wanted, no one but the killer themselves. The first to fully crack was Noli—the man who was seen as the kids’ uncle, who cared deeply for them. It was August 5th when they found him. The man had gone silent 3 days after the discovery of the children's death, which was unlike him and concerned the married couple deeply.
Of course, Noli was 007n7’s greatest friend, and he insisted checking on him, which Elliot agreed on almost immediately. The car door slammed shut as 007n7 hurried to the front door, knocking lightly at first, until those knocks turned frantic with a sense of dread and desperation. “Noli!! It’s 007n7 and Elliot!! Please open the door!!!” The ex-hacker called out, yet no answer was given back, all that was returned was the silence from inside the house.
“Elliot, help me open this stupid door!!” 007n7 pleaded, fumbling with the doorknob in a frantic pace. The pizza man quickly rushed over, ushering 007n7 out of the way as he broke down the door—what gifted them next was the foul smell of a decomposing corpse, it only further spurred on the burger man’s dread.
Because 007n7 knew—he knew that Noli was gone, and his point was proven the moment they stumbled into the masked man’s bedroom, to find him hung by a rope, a chair toppled over beneath his feet, and a letter neatly placed on the nightstand beside the bed. “Noli...NOLI!” His husband cried, while Elliot could only stare in horror. Their friend had committed suicide, and he had been too stupid to notice the warning signs.
Opening the letter was in hopes for answers for the cause of the man’s self-exit—007n7 couldn’t even read it, so Elliot had to do it.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
August 2nd, [REDACTED].
To whomever finds this, if you’re reading it, it means I am dead.
I apologize for the sight, I’m sure it’s one that’s far from appealing.
I’m sorry to Elliot, to my best friend and my parents, everyone I had wronged.
I am so, deeply, sorry.
I failed, as a friend, as an uncle.
I failed to protect them.
But I won’t fail again.
I never wanted it to end like this, didn’t want to cause more pain.
To Elliot.
To my foremost greatest friend that I could’ve asked for.
But someone has to watch them on the other side, make sure they are safe.
I promise to watch over them for you guys while you aren’t here.
I’ll say hi to 118o8 for you, Seven.
Take your time but forgive me for what I have done.
Signed, Noli
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
The funeral was held two days later.
━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━
August 27th.
Things hadn’t gotten much better; the couple were still drowning in grief and pain from the recent losses of their children and friend. Elliot tried to help his lover, but depression seemed to have a stronger hold on 007n7 then he could break. It made his heart ache, while he tried to stay home to be by his husband’s side, he also had to keep a roof over their heads. He took as many days off as he could, and when he couldn’t, he’d come home and drop everything to get 007n7 back on track. It wasn’t easy, nothing was—but it was the expected outcome of far too many deaths from loved ones too close to one another.
The only thing holding 007n7 back from committing was his beloved Elliot.
It’s only a matter of time until he’s taken too.
It was a rather stressful night; Elliot was driving back home after dealing with an issue back at the pizzeria. He hadn’t planned on staying long, because his partner was far more important than his job at the current moment, with the situation they were going through right now. It all went by in a blur of lights, fire and smoke—screams, God why was there so much screaming? His head hurt, he doesn’t know what happened-
But 007n7 does.
He saw the news,
Drunk driver crashes into the famous icon of Builder Brother’s Pizza, and son of Mr. Builderman.
The victim died upon impact, the car they were seated in crushed after being slammed into by the other vehicle driven by a man who was way beyond the intoxication limit and shouldn’t have been driving.
We are unsure whether the male, also known as Billy Martin, will survive rfomithe ijueris. cauused byyyy....
The words began to blur through the blur of tears that were born within his eyes, he couldn’t even bother to watch any longer. He reached over, fingers clasping the TV remote, until his thumb found the power button and shut it off. The fog of his glasses began to bother him, so he reached a hand up and took them off, but he made no effort to keep them in his grasp, allowing them to clatter onto the coffee table, watching as the cracked glass in the lens shattered completely, entirely—just like his heart, mind and life. Broken, just like that.
Elliot was gone.
What did he have left?
A gun.
He should get his gun.
He’d be sure to not keep his love, friend and children waiting, they needed him—he needed them more than anything in the entire world. The shame and guilt in the air were unbearable, he failed all of them, whether it was out of his control or not—it's his fault. How could it not be? Who else was there to blame other than himself?
No one.
.
.
.
Exactly.
His stumbled to the room both he and Elliot once shared, each of the floorboards creaking beneath every step he took against the aged wood. Their room was clean—what...? His movements came to a halt—was he even standing?—eyes darting around the room to take in the mess that marred its floors, cluttered clothes scattered across the the carpet, a mix of dirty and clean fabrics, with beer bottles—some shattered and broken—being the cherry on the top of this sight. The room was clean last he checked, had it dirtied itself when he wasn’t looking? Did it grow a mind of its own or something? Hold on—beer...? Since when was there beer in the house? What day was it? He doesn’t remember anything, of what happened or how he ended up curled in the forest of bedsheets and pillows.
His body whined when he sat up, the blanket that had originally been clinging to his being slipped off the moment he moved his arm to dig his palms into his eyes, trying to wear off the sleep that found its way in there. His arms stung, every movement in his thighs ached, but that doesn’t make sense, he’s been clean for the last 2 weeks! His stomach felt hollow, empty—but he just ate moments ago!
A stifled, but pained groan fell from his lips, goodness his head was throbbing, an ache that snuffed out any thoughts that tried to form in his head. It was mind numbing, infuriating—it prevented him from remembering much to anything, allowing a bubble of frustration to worm its way into his unstable headspace. His fingers, twitchy and wrong, fiddled with his phone, allowing the glow of the screen to envelop his face as the date burned into his eyes. He didn’t focus on the missed calls and messages from his cousin, or his partner’s family, or his parents.
He was just focused on the date.
.
.
.
August 30th.
.
.
.
What...?
His eyes remained glued to the blinding screen, rereading the letters settled above the time. Wasn’t it the twenty-seventh? His mind must be playing tricks on him, he could’ve sworn—it's been three days. Three days since Elliot’s death. Three days since he told himself he’d join them. What is wrong with him? He’s been keeping them waiting for far too long. How much more pathetic can he be?
Get up.
What?
Get up.
Why though...why? There’s no point. I have nothing left.
Maybe here, you don’t. But up there, they’re waiting for you.
How are you so sure? I’m a terrible person; the only place I belong is Hell.
You don’t know that. You redeemed yourself long ago, no?
But not everyone has forgiven me.
Not like they ever will. So, get up.
But-
Unless you want to fail them further.
...You’re right......
With that thought in mind, he got up, swinging his feet off the edge of the bed.
He won’t fail this time.
.
.
.
Get up.
So, he did. His feet found the floor, moving with a step of their own, a sway of his balance here, a stumble in his footing there. Standing felt weird, stiff, as if his legs weren’t meant for it—but walking felt foreign, as though walking wasn’t something he had learned, like these were his very first steps. Ignoring every stiff and rustic protest his body managed to cry out, not acknowledging the crusted layers of dried blood that painted his thighs and arms, all that was on his mind was the location of his gun. It was a sign; he had not gotten up in days. A consequence for his failures. A punishment for his stalling. But he won’t stall anymore, he’ll join them today—see his kids and lover, see Noli, his friend.
The drawer to his nightstand slid open with not much resistance, little to no fight in it—just like him. Funny, how he was so lonely that he was relating to his fucking nightstand. Never mind that, those thoughts fizzled out the moment his fingertips brushed against the familiar cold metal of his gun. A simple handgun, easy to use, small, fitting—perfect for what he planned. He’s gone through this routine before, in a various of different ways, many different attempts, only to be saved and held back every God forsaken time—always giving him a reason and purpose to go on.
Mm-hm, not this time.
Was this really the right choice? Is this what Elliot would’ve wanted? No...it isn’t. He can’t. His hands began to retract from the cold metal.
But I’m supposed to go on, that’s what Elliot would’ve wanted...! That’s my purpose!
Now your purpose is to join them.
Oh...
What on earth was he thinking? Go on—is he crazy? There’s nothing to go on without his family.
His fingers curled around the handgun, pulling it carefully out of the drawer. His gaze fell onto the trigger, pointer finger grazing against the part as he thought of doing this. The bed sunk beneath him as he sat back down, no longer able to deal with the feeling of standing. His feet ached already, so why force it when he can just sit back down? Didn’t matter, not anymore.
The tip of the gun kissed the underneath of his chin, the cold metal a refreshing touch against the heat of his flesh. His finger slid around the trigger lever, hesitation baring his fingertips, until he remembered what he was dying for. He could still hear the news playing in the living room, having left it on three days ago—but it was all gibberish, he couldn’t make out a word of it, nor did he care.
He could probably be seen as selfish, because he still had his cousin 007e7 and older sister, 118o8—but that’s where you’re wrong. His cousin didn’t need to know, he had moved away for a job opportunity, that 007n7 himself encouraged. His cousin deserved to live their life full, he didn’t need to be a part of it to ruin it more. His sister...oh, his sweet, dear sister, had passed long before the disappearances of his precious children, due to an accidental overdose of her medication. If he had made it there in time, she would’ve still been alive.
It was his fault.
All of it.
With one last glance at his phone, with the messages that infected the lock screen, he let his eyes fall shut, tears prickling at the edges and rolling down his sunken in cheeks.
I can’t wait for the click at the end of the trigger.
A smile pursed his lips, and without further wait—
BANG.
Blood splattered across the room, painting the walls and bedsheets a sickening red—chunks of fractured bones and skin tissue acted like sprinkles to the bloodied sheets, with pieces of his brain being the cherry on top. The house grew silent, the air fell still, with the only voice echoing throughout the empty halls, being that of the woman reporting the news.
.
.
.
Man arrested for the death of Elliot builder has now been charged with three counts of murder, not including the adult male’s death.
The drunk driver, Billy Martin, was arrested after surviving the horrific crash that took the life of Elliot Builder, the famous pizza boy. However, it was found out that the suspect, Billy Martin, proceeded to confess to the crimes of the three children, C00lkidd, Bluudud and Pr3ttypriincess in great detail. He said he hadfuunn kyllsingg offsdff.....
━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━
He had died.
That’s all he knew.
If he hadn’t died, then why was he here?
Last thing he remembered was blacking out, the last smell being that of smoke and gas, with the faint scent of blood—a scent almost anyone could recognize. Then came the screams, don’t get him started on those—God were they loud, torturous screams that made his head throb with pain he didn’t want.
He wasn’t complaining, sure he had to kill ‘survivors’ every few hours, but Noli was here—his kids were here. However, he had one thing to complain about, and that was how early he was taken. He never made it to his husband, 007n7, only dying on the way because of some idiot’s dumb life choices. So, every waking hour in this ‘Hell’, he could only wonder what took place the moment 007n7 heard of his early death.
He just hoped his lover went on.
I couldn’t go on, Elliot.
Praying to whatever God would bear to hear his pleas.
I’m sorry, everyone. I’ll see you all soon.
That his husband was okay.
.
.
.
Elliot wasn’t always fond of violence, he didn’t see it as the solution to most situations, but that was old Elliot—pathetic Elliot. How could he be the same after getting blood on his hands, after getting the sweet taste of violence? After losing everything. No, he wasn’t talking about the pizzeria, that could be rebuilt over and over again as long as his father had the funds for it—he was more of talking about his beloved husband and kids. He had his kids now—but he had still lost them at some point. Had still mourned their death, had still grieved the injustice that his children’s blood received, the lack of capture for the killer who took them away from him.
But now, sitting in the killers’ main cabin, cleaning off his circular saw machine of any remaining blood from his last round, he thought of how corrupt the justice system truly was, how the killer could always wiggle themselves out of the consequences. It made him sick. Because not even the admin’s tried to help, the case was too small for it to be of importance to their high-end lives, oh...he could make them pay. They weren’t all high and mighty now in this place, they were weak and pathetic, survivors. He could kill them over, and over, and over again, as many times as he’d like, because just like him—they couldn’t leave this place that entity oh, so, created just for them.
Just as he was about to start cursing out the tainted names of the fallen Admins, his thoughts swirled back to what had brought him here. The accident. Ah, yes, the crash that he was more than certain had killed him, pulled him away from his husband when 007n7 needed him most. His beloved would’ve never been in that state if those wretched ’Admins’ had actually made an attempt to help them, to find it. But they never did, never even tried—left them to rot with the unknown location of their kids. He’d never forgive them—never look up to them. Never again. Ever.
He could’ve had a better life—a longer life! He could’ve said goodbye to his lover and kids, he could’ve spent the rest of his days with them, but no! An idiotic man just had to be drunk and stupid enough to get behind the wheel and drive into traffic. Then came along Noli, a friend of him and 007n7, a trusted uncle that the kids loved. He wondered how Noli ended up here, then he remembered how Noli took his own life, telling 007n7 in a suicide note that he’d take care of the kids in the afterlife for him. Four losses, four lives of people 007n7 cared for dearly, cherished heavily, all within a month—then came his own demise in that pathetic crash.
He just wished things were different, that maybe in another universe he could live peacefully with his family and friends, maybe 118o8 would tag along, because she was most certainly not here. She would’ve been too kind. But the past isn’t something you can render and change just because you want to, all you can do is move on and hope the future is better. Humming to himself as he watched Noli help the kids to bed, he was just glad he wasn’t alone in this situation. He appreciated the help, since 007n7 wasn’t here, plus, if you ignored all the deaths the other killers had caused, they were pretty decent people, including the embodiment of hatred itself, 1x.
With that, came a sigh from his lips as Elliot slouched further into the cushions beneath him, setting his circular saw of a weapon beside his foot—would 007n7 still love him if he saw what he’s become? The thought plagued his thoughts, it made his heart quicken with a sense of ache and fear, tears threatened to spill from his glossed eyes as more thoughts filled his head.
He wouldn’t blame the man if he didn’t—the amount of blood he spilt onto his own hands, with little to no regret of it too, made him just as much of a monster as any other murderer would be. His partner, his husband, his beloved, could never love him for who he’s become now, a killer, a murderer—the very same thing that took away their kids. He’d never forgive himself either, how could he?
The tears flowed.
.
.
.
The silent sobs sang.
.
.
.
The hurting thoughts danced.
.
.
.
And the longing love ached.
.
.
.
One thing Elliot knew, was that he’d forever long for 007n7, love the man with all his heart, even if those thoughts weren’t reciprocated.
.
.
.
“You’re overthinking again, Elli,” Noli hummed, catching Elliot’s attention, good. He’s come to know that the male would often overthink about his marriage after being damned to this place, he didn’t blame the blond either—love was complicated, it could be strong at one point and shatter the next. Like a vase, per-say. You could hold it whole, for as long as you’d like, keep it stored to keep it right, clean of cracks that’d damage its surface, but all it takes is to make one wrong move, and just like that, it’ll lose its purpose.
“Ah, sorry, are the kids sleeping?” He dismissed, letting his gaze find Noli’s as he waited for a response.
“Yep, sound asleep.” Noli plopped himself down next to Elliot, eyes finding their way to the tv, which was currently spectating Azure’s round, “hey, would you look at that! We’ve got a new survivor!” The masked male snickered, pointing at the new survivor who was running away from Azure.
“There is?” His head snapped towards the tv—there was in fact a new survivor, but he couldn’t make out who it was, not that it mattered much, Azure would fill them all in afterwards anyway, “who do you think it is?”
“Probably another fallen admin or something, been getting a lot of those recently.”
Elliot could only agree to that. Then again, if it WAS another admin, he wouldn’t complain, he’d just have fun killing them over and over again. Because they all turned their backs when they needed them most. “If it is, I’ll have my fun—oh, looks like Azure’s round is over.” The pizza man mumbled as he stood up from the comfort of the couch, turning his head to find the plant man standing behind them.
“New survivor alert, though I don’t know this man...not personally at least, but he has the name of a popular exploiter, a retired one too.” The words spilled from the purple plants mouth, as if it were gossip at a girls' tea party.
“What was he wearing...?” His eyes snapped to Noli’s, and he saw the same worry reflect in those masked eyes—the only hackers they’ve had were on the killer’s team, the only retired one being Noli, in fact, there weren’t many retired hackers that weren’t banished days after retirement—except 007n7 and Noli. Many others got unlucky, but these two managed to slip under the radar and live their lives.
Azure paused, humming to himself as he tried to remember the details, “he wears a blue shirt with some silly picture on the back of it and this weird burger ha-”
No.
No.
No.
Fuck, please.
Oh God, please no.
“Earth to Elliot and Noli—you guys, okay? Was it something I said???” The purple flower questioned, concern lacing his voice as he stared at the two horrified killers. Then, “oh God—Elliot? Elliot! Come on man—dammit... ELLIOT!!”
He couldn’t think. It can’t be, this whole thing felt like a blessing at first—but putting his lover on the survivors' side? He had just watched what could’ve been 007n7 get killed with amusement—he's going to throw up. Was someone talking to him?
He can’t hear.
Why.
Why.
Why?
Ẁ̵͚͕̕H̵̡̡͚͓̹͊̆̎́̅̄̅̍̂͊̐̉̈̄͊͝Y̷͔̲̻͇̭̜̪̟̹͐̀̾́͂͌̔͘͜?̶̡̡̧͕̻̪̤̗̳̥̟̠̠̮́͊̽̏̀̅̒̎̕?̴̨̛̻͙̫͓̻̖̬͎̲̦̮̄͛̈́͜͜?̵̧̟͋̓̓̓̀̃͂͑̽̆!̸̢͖͖̦̲̤͉͚̭̜͓͑̂̿̂̇́͊̆̍̍́̎̀͜?̸͍̈̆́̈́͐̎̋̈́̃̂̽̒̚͝͝?̴̧̡̛̖͉̠͖͕̩̣̰̱̼̣̂͂̿̉̽̓̒̎͋͒̊̀͊͘͜͠?̶̙̑̑̈́̽̕͝
It’s been hours now and Elliot hasn’t been able to stop crying—he didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. Because he knew it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be.
It can’t be.
He refused to believe it unless he saw it himself.
━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━
007n7 wasn’t sure where he was, or why he was here, but he knew for certain that he wasn’t welcomed here. No one in the cabin liked him, distanced themselves from him for a past he had long buried and changed from—yet they still looked at him like he was a monster. It took them mere minutes to outcast him from the group, leaving him isolated and alone with only his thoughts to accompany him. It hurt, it made him want to cry—he had died to see his family, only to round up in a place that hated his very presence.
He was alone. Again. Noli wasn’t here to comfort him. His kids weren’t here to fill the silence with laughter. His partner, oh his dearest Elliot, wasn’t here to pull him out of the pit of negative thoughts he had thrown himself in. He missed them, he longed to hear their voices, at least one last time—it's all he wanted, but he never got what he wanted when he needed it most, the universe just seemed to hate him more than he could ever hate himself, more than he could ever loathe his own existence.
He hated it here, but he saw it as the universe punishing him for his failures.
You failed C00lkidd.
I’m sorry!
You failed Pr3ttypriincess.
I’m sorry, please!
You failed Bluudud.
I...I didn’t mean to!!
You failed 118o8.
I tried! I swear...I just didn’t make it in time...!
“Shut up...shut...shut up!!” 007n7 sobbed, cries that wrecked through his vocal cords in rough vibrations, sending waves of pain through his spiraling mind as tears dripped from his eyes to his chin. His tail lashed behind him as he tried to ground himself, but his breathing wouldn’t slow, his tears wouldn’t dry. “...SHUT UP!!!” He bawled, hands tangling within his messy brown curls, tugging at the strings as he headed for air that failed to reach his lungs.
You failed your best friend, Noli.
“Stop it...!”
You failed Elliot. What kind of lover are you?
His voice roared along his wail of pain, the sound echoing off the walls of his small cabin, before it broke through the walls and filled the scenery around him. Wait, what? He opened his eyes, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes as his body tensed. It was another round—of course it was. He’s been through six of them already and none of the deaths go any easier, he hated it, he hated here. He was isolated with the only company being his mind, which only sent him down the rabbit hole more. It brought him no comfort.
But right now, was not the time. He needs to get up, move, he can’t stay here, or he’ll be killed, and dying hurts so fucking much here, he needs to get up. With shaky legs, 007n7 managed to push himself up, taking in his surroundings as he tried to figure out what map he was put on this time—he didn’t know any of the names, but this was the one with that mansion, so it must be a big one. With that thought in mind, he began to move about, one step at a time, but each one ached to take, strained his body to move—but he couldn’t stop, he can cry later, right now he needs to survive.
Even if his will for that had long dissolved into a mass of nothing.
.
.
.
Okay, whoever this killer was, it was clearly one he hasn’t dealt with yet—he's met that mafia guy, that purple octopus guy, with the myth John Doe himself, and a being he could only assume as an embodiment of hatred or something. This one, however, wasn’t any of them—no, this one seemed to have something to do with fast food and the color red—his heart ached at those thoughts, because it only made him think of Elliot-
Shut up you pathetic excuse of a father. He’s gone. Accept that already.
Oh, but how could he accept that when he didn’t even get to say goodbye...? He can’t just stop grieving for the man he had married, for the kids he had raised, or for the person he called a friend—that's not how this works! You can’t just choose when to get over something like that, they meant everything to him-
Crunch.
Shit.
His head snapped towards the sound as he rushed to take cover, hand reaching up to cover his mouth—he doesn’t know how long it’s been, how much time that’s left, or who’s still alive—he knows nothing. He had been too trapped in his thoughts to focus on such important things, for all he knows he could die right now because the killer probably saw him being stupid! Oh, they definitely saw him.
He listened as the crunching footsteps grew closer, louder, killing the distance between them with a threat—no, promise of death filling the air, this person knew they had 007n7 cornered, with nowhere for him to flee or escape, he was trapped. Fucking trapped. He-
“Come out, come out, wherever you are...”
.
.
.
He...he knows that voice...that’s...
“Haha! Found....you...” Elliot’s voice died in his throat, as his movements came to a sudden halt. He couldn’t move, all he could do was stare at the survivor in front of him as tears forged within his eyes, and his chest ached through words he couldn’t speak. He just stared, taking in the details—the blue shirt, the unmistakable pink glasses...that burger hat. He had told himself before that it must’ve been a coincidence, that 007n7 wasn’t actually here and it must’ve been someone impersonating him—but reality never lies. The truth sat right there, in front of him to take in, a pale, thin...too fucking thin, man. The same man he had fallen in love with, the same man he cried for every night.
007n7 felt his breath hitch when a blade pressed itself beneath his chin, grazing the skin of his throat only to stop in its attack. He took in the weapon of choice, it was a mechanical saw, that represented a pizza cutter, pizza. That meant...his eyes glanced up, vision fogging up as tears infected the corners of his eyes, getting caught on his lashes in packs of water. He couldn’t breathe, is as if his body has forgotten how to function, but how could it not when the person looming over him, while holding the end of a saw right at his neck, was none other than his...his husband themselves...?
This wasn’t the way he expected their reunion to be like—he wasn’t expecting a reunion at all, he thought he had been damned to suffer in hell. But as he observed Elliot’s stance, took in the blood and guts that colored the pizza man’s apron and hands, marked the tears in the latter’s eyes, he knew...this was his Elliot. The same Elliot he married, the same Elliot who raised his kids with him...
The same Elliot he saw dead on the news.
His beloved was on the opposite team as him, the team that did the killing in rounds, the team that wasn’t his. But even after knowing that, figuring that information out, seeing how Elliot clearly found a thrill in killing others—he still saw his Elliot in those sweet, soft eyes. He could care less about those Elliot murdered, because the blond male still fell in love with him even after everything he had done, and he’d be willing to do the same thing.
So, as tears began streaming down his cheeks, and his adoration and love for his partner filled his eyes, mixing with the pain he gained along the way, he broke the silence first, wanting nothing more than to hear his partner’s voice-
One.
Last.
Time.
.
.
.
“My love...?”
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₍^. .^₎⟆
- 6,376 Words -
( Author's Art )
