Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone was dead again, and here Elliot was, hiding away because without a team he was useless. It was miserable being here, waiting until the killer eventually found him and lodged a blade through his skull, scattering his brain into nothing more than a stain on the floor. “We’re fine, go take cover with the others, we’ll handle it,” nobody can hold off the killers forever. Guest missing a few blocks was all it took for everything to crumble, all Elliot could do was throw a pizza forward and hope for the best. He watched silently as one by one everyone he grew so close to fell down, Guest being the first, then Shedlesky, then Chance, Two Time barely got away with their second life but it didn’t last long, not when a ranged shot from afar took them off guard and decapitated them effortlessly. That was all of their fighters, everyone who can actually stand their ground, without them they were all picked off one by one.

It stung being useless, it stung watching others die no matter how often he had seen the miserable sight. Blood covered the battleground, burnt skin, rolling heads, it was a disgusting mess. There was the sound of footsteps nearby, oh god they found him. Activating his rush hour, Elliot hopped off of the ledge that they were hiding by, falling roughly 2 stories hurt badly as he tried not to stumble forward. Even if he might have destroyed the cartilage between his joints from the fall, anything was better than dying again. 

This place had a special property, despite returning to the lobby every time, death was still as strong of a fear as ever. Not once have they grown desensitized to the pain, every mistake, every slash, it all hurt just like it did the first time. They grew tired just like the first time they’ve ever arrived in the games, the only difference is that they’ve all learned to pace themselves. Working out held no effect either, they don’t gain muscle or physical traits here. They were just as they were when they entered this miserable hell, eternally stuck the way they are.

The killer was right behind him as usual, there wasn’t much he could do but try to dodge any incoming attacks and hide behind walls. Guest had taught them the ways of prolonging a chase, because attacking slows them down using walls was a great way of wasting time. Ducking behind the wooden walls that seem scattered around the area just for this purpose he tried to catch his breath for just a moment, a moment that appears to be too long however as a brick impacted his shoulder, causing the bone to snap as Elliot scrambled to cover his mouth so he wouldn’t make a sound. That doesn’t seem to help however as a small laugh came from the wall right behind him. At least it hit the shoulder and not his legs, with no rush hour left though he could only duck behind more and more walls, hiding as he waited with baited breath that maybe he was close to the end. 

Just as he slowed down for a moment to catch his breath, a hand clamped down on his neck as he let out a scream, he was caught, and the killer smiled with his wide, twisted expression. There was nothing that Elliot could do but close his eyes as he felt his airways tighten, his throat close up as he choked on nothing. One crack to the neck, and everything went black. 

But where was the pain? Aside from a few minor injuries during the chase he felt no pain in death, a highly unusual feature but one that he can’t complain about. When every hour they feared being put in another game, any bit of respite was good, at least that’s what Elliot thought. When he woke up in a dark room and not in the cabin he was so familiar with, that’s when he knew something was wrong. Normally he would wake up, sitting on that uncomfortable wooden chair, seeing the other survivors either doing their own thing or coming up to check on him. They’ve been in this hell for so long that every room, every fenced off area, and every place that they can reside in was public knowledge.

“Hello? Noob? Builderman? Chance?” Elliot called out random survivors’ names in hopes that someone would reveal that they had just turned off the lights by accident. “Guest? Shedlesky?” he called out once more, no response. Great, where the hell was he? They weren’t allowed in the forest, the other people stuck in this place had blocked it off for a reason, quite a few areas also had invisible walls that nobody really knew how to break through. He had to be in the lobby at least, right?

Walking around the empty black room he found himself in front of a mirror, confused by its presence he walked forward and observed it. It was a mirror, just a regular one. The frame is nice and pretty though, was that gold? He wasn’t any good at telling the difference between real and fake though so he just left it at that. Then he looked at himself, the injuries from the round were all gone, almost like he went back to the lobby, but that was impossible, this wasn’t the cabin he was in. After another attempt at staring at himself through the mirror, a rather sad sight if he were to describe it, he then turned around and left, only for a hand to grab his ankle. A scream tore from his throat as he tried to punch the person behind him, only for his hand to meet nothing, nothing but the reflection in the mirror. It was him, the same red visor and uniform he wore, but there was something twisted about the him in the mirror. The smile, there was a smile that he didn’t have, he wasn’t smiling, this was terrifying, but the him in the mirror simply smiled at him, looked at him.

Those eyes weren’t his either.

“Hello Elliot,” the mirror him spoke as it so easily tore off the hand that was grasping its ankle in the reflection, standing up as if nothing happened. All while Elliot was struggling to even do the same, what the hell was this? A nightmare? Would self awareness wake him up?

“Oh, don’t worry, this is very real,” the mirror him answered, as if he could see his thoughts. The figure stepped forward, close to the mirror as the mirror him looked directly in his eyes. How could he describe those eyes? Elliot felt like cold water was poured on him as he let out a small cry in fear, that wasn’t him, everything about the mirror figure looked like him but that wasn’t, that can’t be.

“I’m here to offer you something,” the mirror spoke as he held out a letter, one that was on crumpled, bloody paper. It fell right through the glass, much to Elliot’s shock as he watched it flutter down right in front of him. The text was neat, perfect even, almost as if printed out, but fear stopped him from grabbing it. He was still on the floor, stuck there with the stupid hand grabbing his ankle. Seeing that though the mirror figure suddenly forced Elliot, no matter if he considered it or not, using another one of its dismembered appendages to control the survivor’s hand, it yanked him forward which got a little cry of surprise from Elliot. Once the paper was finally in his hands though, that seemed to please the mirror. The sound of shattering echoed around him, glass flying in his direction as Elliot used his arms to shield his eyes, or at least attempt to as he found himself head down somewhere else.

The wooden table, the same uncomfortable chair. Noob was beside him, waiting for him to wake. When Elliot finally lifted his head up Noob smiled as they quickly reached over to steady Elliot, “O- Oh you did it! You survived!” they congratulated as they pat Elliot’s back. Survived? Elliot clearly died, he knew he died, that hand around his neck was too tight to be anything but a sure fate to the lobby again. 

“Eh…? But… I died, I felt myself die,” Elliot nervously corrected which caused Noob to tilt their head in confusion, “o- oh… well, maybe you died at the same time that the game ended? T- that’s possible, Guest once had a moment like that,” Noob then tried to reason, an explanation that sounded pretty logical.

“I suppose so,” the pizza worker then sighed as he got up from the table. The lobby seemed a lot more quiet than usual, maybe that round wasn’t a good one, that tended to lower general morale. Even the more chatty people were somewhere else, Chance wasn’t playing those games they always liked to set up, and Builderman seemed to be out of the cabin. It felt a little bad to also want to get a room to just sit in until the next game starts, but considering his experiences with the mirror, he really wanted to forget that sight. “Do you mind?” Elliot then asked, to which Noob shook their head, “n- no not really… go rest… you deserve it.” They then answered, it was a little more apathetic than what Elliot was used to, but maybe Noob was just as tired as him. 

Upstairs were the same DDR machines, at first they served as a great way to pass the time or to start something for everyone to enjoy after a bad round like that one. Nowadays, or at least just now, the machines were left abandoned. A hallway to the left revealed the bedrooms, well calling them bedrooms was generous. It was a row filled with rooms that are just big enough to fit a bunk bed and 2 people max. They had roommates, sure, but nobody needed sleep in this lobby which was probably one of the few nice things about being trapped here, that and the fact no one needs to eat or drink. 

It also meant that most of the time the bedrooms were empty, they were uncomfortable, and there were clearly other more comfortable places to sit, a good private area, one good enough for Elliot to read the piece of paper he felt in his pockets after waking up. Normally reading something covered in blood was a terrible idea, it usually means that either he will die now, soon, or something life changing would happen. At this point though, Elliot didn’t really care, he had seen enough blood and gore of his friends and their torn open bodies, just a bit of dried blood prompted very little reaction. 

Once smoothened out, he looked at the letter, observing the bright purple ink and the text written on it.

Dear Elliot,

I have a proposition you don’t want to ignore. The games can be a bit more interesting, so I wanted to offer you this. You can switch sides, let out your frustrations, you can be free, you won’t die anymore.

Sign on the line below, and we’ll see each other very soon.

_____________

Was this a sick joke? Switch sides? To what? The killers? Like hell he would, abandoning his friends was the very thing he swore against. So why doesn’t he just tear up the paper? Something in him was telling him a very different story, they didn’t need him, the others could fight off the killers without healing sometimes. Hell, sometimes his team wouldn’t back him up, leaving him to die first to the killers. Would it be so bad to leave them?

He couldn’t throw out the paper, no matter how much he wanted to, he should throw it out, that was the right thing to do, but he instead just tucked the paper into his breast pocket, a rather secure spot that no one will see.

Oh god what would happen if someone saw him with this paper? An offering to become a murderer, and the fact he didn’t decline… that was probably the worst thing about it. He couldn’t let the others know, he already knows what being an outcast does to a person, but if he was hated and an outcast… no he won’t let anyone know. This was a secret he can’t tell others no matter what. 

The weight of the letter however kept him down, he felt as if everything he did had to be controlled. Just, why couldn’t he throw it out? Tear it apart and watch as the pieces of paper fluttered down like a disgusting stain. Fear was pleading for him to throw it out, to protect himself and swear loyalty to the others, but a more sinister, more desperate part wanted to be free from the suffering, no matter what.

All of this was giving him a headache, he really needed to walk it off. For once he was really hoping a game would begin sometime soon so he could forget all about the letter and focus on survival. 

Maybe he could just avoid others for a while, it wasn’t unusual to ask for that. If someone has a bad game they would usually keep to themselves for a bit, the usual suspects of this are Guest and 7n7, but by now everyone has experienced a rather unfair round. All of this being so suddenly dropped on him, it felt as if he had already pulled the trigger of betrayal so cruelly, but that wasn’t exactly true was it? When he first worked as an employee in his Dad’s business he was criticized for dropping an opportunity to go to university, keeping his options open was the safest bet after all. Not that it mattered anyways, he just so happened to make the right choice back then. Hopefully, he can make the right choice now though as he walks out of the cramped room. Chance was there, flipping their coin over the guardrails of the second floor, practicing a bunch of tricks that looked as if they were trying to test the limits on what was the closest they could get to dropping the coin without actually letting it fall. When they heard footsteps they turned around, beaming a smile as they waved at Elliot, “oh! Hey, I was wondering where you went. Noob said you needed some time to yourself. Are you feeling better?” 

Just great, the moment he walked outside there was someone there who wasn’t there before. How annoying. Still, he knew how to keep a straight face, smiling as he waved back at Chance, “oh, did they? Yeah it was rough being the last man standing you know? But I managed to get out… somehow.”

God his acting was so bad, he needed to pretend like he had just won a game, when deep down he felt the guilt clawing at him. Worst of all, it was Chance of all people he had to run into, that gambler was somehow so much better at keeping a straight face over anything that it made it near impossible to tell what he thought about him. Were they already suspicious? Their eyes were hidden under shades, their mouth fell into a casual smile, it was too hard to tell if they were suspicious or not.

“Well good on you, you’re getting better at holding your own without any help,” they congratulated, one that felt a little hollow to Elliot but he smiled nonetheless, “thank you, how about you? I didn’t see you much… you just kind of vanished and I assumed you died.”

Yes, turn the conversation into something else. As much as the games brought so much suffering onto them, it also made a perfect distraction, away from all the troubles that stupid letter brought into his already miserable time in this special hell. Somehow, the familiarity of the chase was already starting to calm him down a bit.

“Oh yeah, my gun blew up while trying to help Guest, the killer noticed and it was lights out for me,” Chance explained casually as they took out the shoddy gun. It was still intimidating to Elliot that Chance was just willing to use something as unreliable as that poor excuse of a weapon, but after many games of Chance just barely saving his life by landing a bullet right on the killer’s noggin, he no longer doubted its uses. “Unfortunate,” Elliot simply commented, which got a laugh from Chance, “it’s okay, next time. After all, they can’t all be misses,” they explained cockily, which got a little eye roll. Had this been the first time Elliot has heard this guy bet on such stupid odds, he would be screaming, but nothing he does can really change Chance’s belief in himself, so he does nothing to really stop it either. 

He then just sits there, watching Chance practice their more flashy abilities, shuffling decks, doing card tricks. It was no magician level skill but it was a skill they had, no doubt from being the face of their own casino. In a sense, it was a little comforting that they haven’t done anything that seemed like they suspected him of being a traitor. That was good, he wanted it to keep it that way. Everyone was oddly quiet though, it’s been a fair bit since the games have ended. Sleeping was off the table for most of them though, letting yourself sleep was just asking for a nightmare. There was the docks area, while not quite a scenic beach, the chilling waters and fine sand did make it a somewhat comfortable place to reside, Elliot figured the others must be there. They weren’t allowed in the forests, meaning that unless they talked to someone else and asked to linger in their homes they were probably just there, not suspicious of him at all. Chance didn’t seem suspicious, that was a good start. 

“Mm… nothing’s happening, that’s odd,” Chance commented as they caught their coin just barely with the tips of their fingers. “Don’t you think a game should’ve started by now?”

Time? Right there was still time here, kind of, the world did not move but they counted the time nonetheless. How long have they been here in this hell though? They lost track a long time ago. Gave up at around 2 months. But Chance was right, there was no game.

Were they waiting for him to sign the paper?

“I’m gonna find the others real quick, call a meeting you know? Don’t get me wrong, it’s good that we’re not being slaughtered yet, but it makes you think that something else, something worse is happening,” they then stated as they rolled down their sleeves. “Mind if you stay here pal? This cabin is the largest one after all, so it makes sense to get everyone here.” 

Great, this couldn’t be any worse, with everyone in one room it was only inevitable that Elliot would have eyes on him. But backing out was way more suspicious than trying not to act that way, so with a heavy nod that felt a little too aggressive in his mind, he watched as Chance went down the stairs to round up everyone. With this brief moment of respite, Elliot then made a choice, the cabin was well built but there were some parts of it that were damaged either from lack of care or from the forest outside. There was this one floorboard, tucked out of the way and in a natural area that no one would bother to look at. He quickly rushed over and pried the floorboard open, his nails aching a little as dust scattered around, polluting the nearby air. Taking out the paper from his pocket, he then tucked it underneath and placed the floorboard back over it, stomping on the area until the board looked as if it was never pried open. Knowing that the paper wasn’t on his person felt a little better, it didn’t get rid of the weight on his heart but it did soothe some worries about being caught red handed.

“Customer service,” Elliot muttered to himself. He has dealt with almost every type of person imaginable while working, smiling through it, looking as if he was focused on nothing but his job, it was natural to him. With a few pats on the cheek he smiled, the action being almost as natural as breathing. Perfect timing as well, the sound of footsteps from outside drew his attention to the door. Builderman was the first to walk in, followed by everyone else that Chance had managed to grab. Interestingly they also made sure to get 007n7 and Two Time into this meeting, a rather unusual choice for meetings but they seemed confident in their choice. 

All that was left was to attend this meeting, act like nothing was wrong, that he wasn’t a dirty traitor. Walking down the stairs he could see eyes on him already, but only for a brief moment, a simple acknowledgement of his presence as he joined the crowd. Chance being in the spotlight as they gazed over everyone, counting the number of heads and being satisfied once seeing everyone together. 

“Alright, thanks for coming guys. There’s clearly something going on here, and I want to investigate,” they started off casually, their hands moving along with their words, much like a professional announcer. What happened next though, clearly shifted the atmosphere of the room as they suddenly revealed the purpose for this meeting.

“Who wants to break the ice and reveal what they saw after dying in that last game?”

Chapter Text

Suddenly the room went quiet, Elliot too was no different as he felt his heart suddenly tighten to a painful degree. Why, why was that brought up? In front of a crowd as well, now everyone will see him, and will notice something wrong with him. They’ll all hate him, they’ll know that he was considering it, to finally stop being murdered, to finally give up on his team and betray them like the selfish person he was. It made him feel sick.

Chance however, saw something different, everyone was oddly quiet, confirming their suspicions on something happening. While they weren’t quite sure why everyone was acting so secretive, it was only natural for him to start reading the room, to understand what was going on. Eventually after a long pause, Dusekkar was the first to speak up, “a descent to the darkest of spaces was my fate, a mirror stood at the end with a face much like my own await.”

Upon hearing that, Elliot perked up, he wasn’t the only one? Still, he couldn’t just stand around and hope no one notices. Maybe if he participated in this discussion less people would naturally be suspicious. “Oh! Me too actually, I thought it was a dream at first,” he nervously laughed, to which Noob looked at him for a moment. God people were already catching on, it made his heart suddenly feel like it was about to jump out of his chest. “I didn’t see much though, just a really creepy version of me.”

Guest furrowed his brow however as he looked around the group, “yourselves huh? I saw someone different, my wife stood in front of me instead. Ah but it wasn’t her, I also saw an imitation, whoever is making this kind of thing has one twisted sense of humour.”

007n7 nodded along, his expression was distant but he was clearly upset about something. “I um… also saw family in the mirror…” he started but eventually trailed off, a hint of resignation covering his expression when he looked around at the group who likely didn’t care. Builderman then took the spotlight as he spoke up, “everyone. Raise your hand if you saw a mirror after dying,” he declared. Unsurprisingly, everyone raised their hands, even Chance who didn’t say anything about it before. 

Eventually, after realizing all of them saw the same things Elliot then spoke up, hoping that maybe, if everyone got the same letter as he did, then they could all laugh it off and pretend it was all okay. “Did anyone else get an item as well?” he asked the crowd, this time however there was an eerie silence. No way… was he the only one? But that meant-

“I got a picture,” Chance then spoke up as they pulled out a small polaroid photo. On it was Chance, dressed in a white suit vest and a red collared shirt, cards lined the side of the collar. It was a rather sharp outfit, made obvious with their status. Right beside though was someone else, also sharply dressed but eerily smudged out, the face was practically removed from the picture. The one defining feature of the person standing next to Chance was the ice crown, a rather expensive accessory, no different from the value of Chance’s fedora.

Builderman also took out a polaroid photo, unlike Chance’s which looked like a selfie, his looked more like a business photo, showing almost all of the Roblox Moderators and Admins. Near the centre was Builderman, wearing a suit with the ban hammer behind him. “It seems the photos are personalized to us,” he commented as he tucked the picture back into his pocket.

A few others revealed photos, Two Time had a picture with them and someone wearing a large hat, Guest having a picture of his wife and daughter, and noob with a rather old picture of them with an unnamed guest before the removal of guests.

Not everyone got a photo though, Dusekkar, Shedlesky, and 007n7 didn’t come forward with anything. Elliot had no picture either, thankfully everyone seemed to have forgotten that he was the one who asked about the items, they were all busy discussing the meanings of the photos, specifically about their loved ones. Maybe while they were talking he could be like Two Time and hide in some corner until everyone either forgets about him or they all part ways. That would be the plan at least, had Chance not walked up to Elliot. Having just slipped out of their own conversations about the photos to glance over at the pizza worker. “Come with me,” Chance whispered as they suddenly walked upstairs, heading to the bedrooms.

Oh god did Elliot’s heart race, did they know? They probably figured out how suspicious he was, would Chance want to reveal the secret to everyone there? He couldn’t just let Chance wait though, the longer he let them wait the more suspicious he would seem. With a heavy heart and what felt like chains around his ankles, he dragged himself upstairs, entering the room with the clearly ajar door inviting him in.

Chance was leaning against a wall, waiting, in their hands was a piece of paper not the same photo of him with the mysterious person.

There were blood stains on the paper.

Elliot stared in shock at the paper, did Chance get the letter too? That means he wasn’t the only one, oh god he could cry from the relief he felt when he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was offered such a cruel temptation. 

“Now before you think I killed someone,” Chance quickly quips as they nervously laughed, “I did not, but would you believe me if I said I got two things from the mirror?” 

There was a look of vulnerability on Chance’s expression, one that surprised even Elliot. Normally Chance was always so composed, not even their own gun blowing up would affect their demeanor. Right now it looked as if they were one moment away from getting in trouble, because in a sense, they were. If Elliot wanted to, he could easily betray Chance, use them as a scapegoat and never have anyone suspect him as a traitor, but he couldn’t at least not now. 

“I just wanted to ask, do you have a letter like this?” Chance then asked as they handed over the paper, letting the crumpled sheet rest in Elliot’s hands. Sure enough? It was the same letter, except with Chance’s name instead. They were being rather open about this, a little too open, this wasn’t like them at all. Chance always kept their cards close to their chest. Elliot could still painfully remember all those times when Chance just obscured information just because it “wasn’t necessary,” the unnecessary information in question being the poor condition of the gun, so poor that not even Guest can fix it.

But they were being honest, a part of Elliot wanted to trust Chance, to really believe they were wanting the best for each other, but does Chance know how much it hurts to watch your entire team die? Especially since they so often got hurt for various random reasons, it was insulting really. He doesn’t want to give up the option, but Chance also can’t know about it either, with a heavy heart he steadied his expression and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so, but this letter is really… something,” he nervously frowned as he looked at the contents, pretending he hadn't seen those words before. 

“Ah… well I’m not surprised,” Chance then answered as they crossed their arms, “I have a few suspects about who’s the most likely to get these notes. Noob was already investigated, if they really had it I doubt they would be as calm as they were right now.”

Not everyone had it? But who then, that was worrying, if someone powerful like Shedlesky or Builderman turned… it would be hard to tell their fate. “Who… do you think has it?” Elliot then asked, if Chance really trusted him with that information then they probably could get more. This trust can turn into something valuable, if he ever gets into trouble, Chance can vouch for him.

“I’m not fully sure, but I think it targets people who have a reason to go to the killer’s side. For example, I think I was chosen to get this letter because whoever the mirror person was, they wanted me to switch for fun, appealing to my need for adrenaline. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad offering, but I’m just as much of a businessman as I am me. Why else do you think I own a successful casino?” Chance grinned pridefully as they fiddled with the coin in their hands. “That’s actually why I came to you for help, I think you’d be the best option to help search for the other letters.”

Him? Why? That stunned Elliot for a moment, what about him seemed trustworthy? Especially since they’ve been nothing but nervous for the entire break duration. Was he that good at lying? For some reason that thought sent a jolt of pride through him.

“Others? What are you going to do with them once you find them?” Elliot inquired, a fair question that Chance had to think about a little bit after. “I’m not sure, the last thing I want to do is split the group though. I just don’t like the idea that someone could silently betray all of us. Maybe I’ll burn the letters, or bury them somewhere.”

Elliot just nodded along, knowing that his letter was hidden away and won’t be found any time soon. But it does work in his interest that they find all the letters, after all, maybe it will confirm that he shouldn’t join the killers, no matter how much his intrusive thoughts wanted him to sign that letter. “Alright, I’m willing to help, and I’m assuming we’re not telling anyone?” he asked, to which Chance nodded. 

They then huffed a little as they looked at the photo, the face looked practically burnt off as if placed under a lighter. While the photos were less interesting, that doesn’t mean it didn’t interest him a little. “Do you know who that is?” Elliot then asked as he pointed at the person who was beside Chance. Making friends in high places wasn’t that unusual, especially for the type of person Chance is. A person with a hat as expensive as that while surprising wasn’t fully unexpected. Chance then smirked as they glanced at Elliot, “I’ll tell if you show me your photo,” he jabbed. Shit he still remembers the fact that he was the first to bring up the idea of having photos. Very nervously he then laughed, “it’s embarrassing… fine I won’t pry,” he lied again. Chance luckily didn’t question it further as they just tucked away his photo. “I couldn’t care less about other people’s secrets, don’t worry about it. Cmon, let's go back to the others,” they then suggested as they pushed themselves up from the wall and walked back out into the hallway. 

Elliot simply followed, observing the crowd below as they split into their own respective groups to talk. Chance had a confident smile as they walked down, waving at Noob who seemed to be in better spirits now that the weird mirror thing was addressed. They were so calm, unaware, he could suddenly understand where Chance’s deductions came from. 

Everyone around him was acting wary, one might assume that it was just because of the strange mirror event that everyone was on edge, but with the knowledge that it wasn’t just them who had the offer, it suddenly made Elliot hyper aware of everything that was going on. 

Naturally, if he had to point fingers at someone, it would be 007n7. He had a son on the other side, it would be natural to want to be with him, but without proof it would be hard to really get the notes. Besides, Chance wanted to play it casually, a statement more reinforced when he spotted them playing billiard balls with Guest, all while chattering off about something. 

He could do the same, Noob was free right now, just lounging on the chair to relax a little. The moderator team was a little bit too big for Elliot to go to right now though, besides, he couldn’t imagine them wanting to do something to harm others, it was their job to protect and build. And to be honest? He doesn’t really want to talk to Two Time or 007n7. He was doing nothing again.

No he’ll be strong, he can’t think about the letter right now, he needed to help Chance, to find all of the letters and get rid of them. Unfortunately, that meant his option is Two Time, not the best choice but Noob was already cleared and he would rather not talk to 007n7 at all. They were busy admiring the photo they got, even scribbling down a few words onto it with a sharpie they found somewhere. 

“Best Friends” in bold text, something they seemed rather proud of. It also stuck out from the small photo of them, a large scarf and multiple black bandages covering their arms, accompanied by someone else. “Who’s that?” Elliot inquired as he wandered over casually, inspecting the little picture there. Whoever that person was, they also had a spawn symbol on their chest. It really makes one wonder what the hell is Spawn and how many people actually believe in something like that.

Two Time however just smiled as they looked at the photo, gently admiring this stranger beside them, “Oh! Someone blessed by spawn, the kindest person I know,” they sang with praise as they took the photo and attached it to their waist. Already, he was a little uninterested, still, he kind of recognized that person in the photo. A hat like that looked familiar, almost like a hat he remembered seeing at some point in the games, but he couldn’t really put a name to it as he just shrugged.

“That’s nice,” he absentmindedly replied before going back to look at Chance and Guest who were focusing less on playing pool but more so talking. The two have grown to respect each other, protecting when one was struggling, and generally handling the killers together. Besides, when you’re fighting for your life, it’s inevitable that a bond will form between the two.

Elliot somewhat envied their ability to just talk whenever they wanted, as well as appealing to any topics they wanted. Of course their signature topic is always gambling, but they were a good host as well. Right now he struggled on speaking to Two Time in a way that doesn’t give away that he was looking for the letter. 

“So… do you think there's someone behind the whole, mirror thing?” Elliot then asked in hopes of getting Two Time to open up about the truth. There was a little bit of a pause as they hummed however, “Spawn does not communicate in mirrors, a rather undignified method if I may add. However, the mirror reflects on one’s inner thoughts, and there I saw Spawn, a deceitful version that cannot be described. I wouldn’t trust it. There are no gods in a place like this.”

Sure, good enough, that is an answer however long winded and rather back and forth it was, still, it was interesting how everyone seemed to be seeing someone that meant a lot to them, but if that really was the case, where were his parents? 

“But they gave you the photo,” Elliot pointed out, to which Two Time nodded, “ah a photo and a piece of paper, but I cared little for the paper, never picked it up.”

Never?? Elliot was baffled, he was forced to pick it up but Two Time could just leave it? A slight feeling of anger towards whatever that mirror monster was bubbled in his chest, why the double standards? No matter though, if Two Time never picked it up then that means they didn’t have it. That’s good at least, one less person to worry about. He’ll pocket this information somewhere in his mind, for now though he just sat and watched Two Time admire the pictures. “Well, I suppose that’s good, you can’t trust whatever that thing does,” Elliot sighed, to which Two Time just nodded. 

The games were taking a while to start. Sitting with Two Time could only be so entertaining, after a bit, religion talk gets annoying real quick. It seems everyone else was thinking the same thing as well. While it was good that they’re not dying right now, all of a sudden Elliot was painfully aware and even sympathetic towards Chance and their hatred for boredom. The island they were trapped on offers nothing really, he remembered seeing Noob heading up for the DDR machines upstairs, Guest and Shedlesky heading outside to spar for a bit, and Chance was just playing solitaire with himself. 

If the games weren’t even starting, then why keep them here on this island either? This sucked, it sucked a lot. What made him only feel worse was that in a twisted sense, he missed the games as well. Who even knows how long they’ve been trapped here, at this point it was like a really fucked up job, clocking in to run for your life and coming back to the stupid cabin where nothing changes. 

Were the letters the cause of this? Elliot dug his nails into his palms as he thought about the floorboard. He wanted to look at the letter again, to see if he had missed any conditionals. That’s when he remembered, Chance never asked for their letter back, they gave the letter to him, likely in hopes of just being far away from it. Maybe he can quickly check, fine print was always important after all. 

He suddenly got up, much to a confused Two Time who just waved him goodbye. Maybe the letter could have more information, if that was the case… would he even share it? It doesn’t matter, he just needed to check, surely Chance wouldn’t mind.

Once again he raced towards the bunk beds, sitting on the bottom as he shut the door. There, it was, the letter that has been nothing but a pain to him, the one that has been tugging at the back of his mind. He smoothened out the crumpled parts, letting the text appear legible as he scanned it, scanned anywhere. The dried blood flaked off with little bits landing on the floor, Elliot made sure to stomp on them a few times before sweeping them underneath the bed. There had to be something, anything, was it really that vague? He shook the letter for a bit, trying to see if anything would fall, why would it? It was just a flat sheet of paper, there couldn’t be anything hidden inside. Unsurprisingly there was nothing as Elliot groaned in frustration, this whole traitor thing was wearing him down. Why the hell did Chance approach him of all people? Why not Shedlesky, or Builderman? They’re far more capable than he was, he was just a pizza worker for god's sake, what could he have possibly done to deserve being here?? He really thought that he had a genius idea, double checking the letter.

All of this frustrated him to no end, he thought about his own letter, and the strange lack of a photo, sure others also had no photos, but the majority did, and he definitely had family he cared about. Couldn’t he at least get that? 

Running a hand through his hair, Elliot stared at the letter, those same stupid words, it would be nice to stop dying, it would be nice to have eyes on him, to have everyone realize how screwed they were if he wasn’t on the team. That thought sent another jolt of excitement through his veins, but he immediately stopped himself as he thought about the situation right now, Chance was trusting him, and worst case? One of the other survivors would suddenly turn with no warning. Trust, right, he was working off of trust right now. 

That was when he heard the sound of a loud gunshot, one that made him jolt as he hurriedly tucked the letter in his pocket. The only person who had a gun was Chance, and that half broken weapon sometimes went off when they were just walking. Still, he felt a compulsion to go check, to just see if they were okay, pizzas would still work in the lobby, right?

Running down the stairs, he walked into something a little less intentional, Builderman was yelling, his voice thundering as Shedlesky just nervously looked down. All of a sudden, Elliot knew this wasn’t something he should miss, ducking behind a nearby wall he watched in silence as he saw Builderman holding something in his hands, a crumpled, bloody letter. 

“Why. The hell. did you not tell me about that!?” he shouted to Shedlesky who just seemed nervous, not quite afraid but there was a look of clear guilt in his expression. “Oh my god, so you’ve been lying this whole time. And this is what it takes for you to let down that facade!?”

Shedlesky just frowned as he threw his sword into the ground, letting it stick right up with the wood beneath it indented from the sharp edge. His eyes however instantly zoned in on Elliot as he just shook his head, “go call your meeting, everyone needs to hear this,” he spoke with a lot more aggression than Elliot has ever seen him use, not even being close to death or other survivors failing to help him prompted that much anger. Feeling that it was dangerous for him to go anywhere outside of the two’s sights, Elliot emerged from behind the wall as he looked down. “S… Sorry… I didn’t mean to appear like I was being rude… I got curious,” he admitted truthfully as Shedlesky just sighed, “no worries, he was being pretty loud wasn’t he?” A small smirk found its way to both of their faces as Elliot briefly looked back at Builderman who was rounding up everyone. 

The meetings were being held a lot more regularly than normal, but right now was an abnormal time, they all felt the strange shift in the mood of the games, or lack thereof. There was nothing more entertaining for whatever twisted god up there who wanted to get a kick from seeing them fight for their lives, it’s how it's been for practically years, they were all used to it. One by one, everyone shuffled in, a mix of fatigue or boredom covered all of their expressions. The last one in was Chance, right he wanted to check on them, but they looked fine? The gun wasn’t even smoking which confused Elliot a little. Builderman then interrupted his thoughts as he stood at the centre of the room, standing over everyone as he glared, “now, I know not all of you were tellin the truth when we all got those photos. Who here got somethin like this?” He announced as he held up a bloody letter, interestingly enough, the name got blurred out, just underneath the chicken scratch over it he could make out one letter. T.

But that couldn’t have been Two Time’s letter, they said they didn’t pick it up, and knowing them? They were probably telling the truth. The name was too short to even be them though, it had to be someone else, but who? Maybe it was one of the others here, trapped before them and generally just being rather distant from their group. Either way, the revelation of the letter took everyone off guard as Builderman sighed. “I want people to come forward, not to out themselves, but to destroy them. We won’t have to have any drama here, so just come forward, and confess.”

There was a long awkward pause, one that went on for a little too long than what it should be, until Guest took the first initiative and went forward, placing down his letter in front of Builderman, the same bloody letter but with Guest’s name on it. “Tch… it was getting hard to hold this thing…” he muttered quietly in shame as Builderman took the letter, without hesitation he threw it into the fire, letting it sizzle away until the yellow turned black. Ashes scattered until there was nothing of it left behind. “Thank you for stepping up first, anyone else?” He then asked as he looked around, Guest was extremely distant from everyone after the revelation.

At first Elliot glanced at Chance, wondering if they’ll step up, they have expressed the desire to throw away the letters as well, so why are they so silent? Although he was no different, his own letter hidden under the floorboard, waiting to be dug up when the time was right. To nobody’s surprise, 007n7 stepped up next, dropping the letter in front of Builderman who just scoffed a little. Shedlesky seemed a little upset at this but there were no words to be said about it, there wasn’t even a single congratulations for stepping up and doing what was right, because it was the bare basics.

He really was a hypocrite wasn’t he?

Chance then went towards 007n7, seemingly talking to him in private. Whatever it was it seemed like it did the trick to stop him from leaving the area just yet. Just two letters didn’t satisfy Builderman however, he had a hunch there were more, his eyes then landed on Chance who seemed to notice the gaze and just shrugged. “Way before you man, I don’t have the letter on me, I got rid of it,” he casually commented, much to a confused but a reluctantly accepting sigh. There was a look in his eyes though, one that Elliot had a feeling Chance also saw, everyone who didn’t step up was likely to be investigated personally.

At least it was until Shedlesky’s stomach grumbled, causing an embarrassed smile from him, one that lasted for only a second as a sudden realization dawned on them. Hunger? In the lobby? They’ve been hungry before, in games when a chase goes on for way longer than it should Elliot would toss a pizza to those who were burning out of energy. This was far more than just concerning, this was downright worrying. Never before have they been hungry in the lobby. If health was reset to max in the lobby, so was hunger. 

And if it wasn’t? They would need to find food fast, but how could they find enough for 9 people? His first thought was to dig around in his pockets, no pizza, he stopped questioning how he could pull pizzas out of his pockets a long time ago, but this is the first time he felt anxious about his hands reaching nothing. Shedlesky seemed to have the same thought as well, trying to grab his chicken, only for nothing to come out. 

Worse? Noob let out a startled yelp when they saw letters reemerging from the fires, Guest’s, 007n7’s and whoever the T letter was, they all returned, and now there was a new letter on top of all of it. The same bloody corners and crumpled state, as if a child had thrown it towards the group with the hopes of them reading whatever bullshit that was written on there.

Builderman’s brows furrowed as he crouched down to look at the new letters, a new sense of worry consuming him as he glanced at the words. All hostilities had dropped as he looked around at the group who was waiting for him to read it out loud. “This… ugh… it’s getting worse, can someone else-”

Chance was the first to step up, taking the letter as they smiled, “whew, let’s see what… oh.”

There was a blank pause, one that really got the crowd anxious. If Chance, the guy who loved joking around more than anything, even in a life or death situation, was getting nervous then it meant something really bad was happening. Their smile faded a little, becoming more of a nervous twitch of their lips as they read the letter out loud.

“Dear survivors, there is now a timer, I am growing impatient. The games need balance, it needs a new face. There is no food in the lobby, make your choices now.”