Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lights beaming so bright you could imagine you were among the stars. It gets in your eyes, makes you blind for a moment.

And that one moment is serene. It's all he needs.

5 million in cash. You did it. You won! Despite the odds, despite the terror — everything was worth it in the end.

 “But stars don't leave after one season, do they?”

His voice is haunting yet almost serene. Like a bird’s call you can't help but stare and wonder. He was right in every notion. What life did you have besides this?

This show gave you more than you could have imagined. When all you have is nothing but a crappy apartment and too many irresponsibly purchased cereal boxes what other option could you have? To return to a life of monotony? The large piggy bank mocked you. It's stacks of cash making you a laughing stock in the face of reality.

Sure, you could have it all. But how quickly would that 5 million go? Into debts and loans, moving and all those necessary purchases – the utility bills you had long since forgotten about. You could have enough to sustain you for life, sure. But what then?

The stairs were muffled under your step as your back turned from the prize you had rightfully earned.

What do you have when you are nobody? No one to turn to, no one to lift you up in your time of need, not a single goal but to survive. Maybe that was why you won. Out of anyone, you knew how to survive – you had practiced it every day of your life from the moment you were born.

Those boxes upon boxes of cereal sustained you for months before you finally found that tape.

So what if you had to step on a few people to get out? So what if your body ached with wear and tear, toned to the very definition of skinny and fit etching you as the perfect candidate of pure simple survival?

A door opened off to the side slowly revealing the rabbit you had once adored. The same rabbit you had come to know and realize as a stranger that was not the cereal mascot you once knew him as.

You knew it was wrong. Heck, anyone could tell it was wrong. You shouldn't have to step over corpses of people who were probably just like you. You shouldn't have to remind yourself that it was better them than you. They lost, you won. Simple as that.

His hand reached out. For you, he lent his hand. For you, he decided it was worth it.

It was sick. It was twisted. You knew it wasn't about you. Yet no one could blame you for choosing to believe…

…perhaps this was the start of something good.

You could make a life for yourself – a fun life with thrills and scares. You could do something – make something of your quiet little life! You could be someone.

You could be a star.

What if you ignored the blood and gore?

What if you took his hand?

What if you took the rabbit’s hand and be thankful his gloves were already red — hiding the blood on his hands.

Maybe deep down…you hoped for a friend too.

 “We need each other.”

Chapter Text

Everything changes.

The apartment was secured. Its confirmation sat on the messy desk filled with papers and documents of all sorts. The weight of the page and the phrase he had quickly scribbled on top of it was an understatement.

As pages upon pages of documents and legal waivers came in, why— he was surprised he had made any progress at all! A mere dent upon the piles of paperwork required to get it all in motion. They had only one chance to get this right. Who could say if they would get another chance at this. One chance to revitalize their beloved show and reach new lengths never seen before… well… not in the past 57 seasons anyway…

Before all that came the most important part! The star, their savior – The Lucky Contestant. There was no question what would be made of him. He was the centerpiece of the puzzle and already proving to be a worthy investment. The rabbit scribbled various ideas he had in mind. He wrote scene plans, scares and puzzles — anything that could elicit a reaction, a motive, a spark, squeezing every ounce of potential out of their star.

But he was getting ahead of himself, it was a common but fatal error on his end. After all, if it weren’t for that then everything would have gone according to plan. He wouldn’t be here jotting down plans in tireless anticipation of their next season. Then again, was he truly flawed if it brought them their star? Their fortune? Their...piggybank?

Getting ahead of himself again, no, no! Focus! Here is the moment! The most important part! On this simple page he would write the contestant’s fate — the contents of their deal. Really, it was far too simple. He didn’t put up a fight or argue. The contestant accepted his offer like one would accepting destiny.

So far, their deal was simple. Stay on the show, raise the ratings and in return the Lucky Contestant receives a brand-new apartment, a gradual payment amounting to 5 million dollars and their very own green room.

The finer details would be sorted out later.

Now, he had to add one final touch — the contract.

Of course, they couldn’t let their lucky contestant go blabbering about their operations. What sort of hell could that bring? To leave a loose end like that so recklessly-

 “SCRRCHHH- Authorities are weighing in on the disaster surrounding Frankie’s Parkour Palace. Three dead and one unconfirmed. Investigations have yet to confirm the company’s whereabouts or the results of their last game show. Whatever became of Frankie’s remains an elusive mystery until—”

The radio audibly clicked off with the press of his finger.

He sat in silence staring at the radio before it really hit him, like a lightbulb brightening above his head he realized — he won.

He really, actually won! Not only does he have the perfect star for his show, bankruptcy avoided, but the police which were once hot on their trail had simply… failed? Their future looked brighter than ever…

Sure, there was always the possibility of a slip up. A mess left uncleaned, a loose end, evidence of sketchy activity which would warrant another investigation but if they kept playing their cards right…

He turned on the radio again, flipping through channels of static and boring newscasts until he found a nice tune. Not too loud and distracting but not too quiet to be dismissed as white noise. A good upbeat melody to back his work.

If they kept playing their cards right, the company may never have to worry about bankruptcy again! He could be spoiled! Just imagining all the things he could do with a larger budget…

Hell, the budget he was just given was more than enough to get things up and running like they used to! It was a start, a very eager one at that.

He chuckled quietly to himself, fingers gliding on a swift-moving pen across pages of notes, ideas, paperwork — always more paperwork.

Hey, you! Let’s celebrate! Let’s celebrate, we’re all in this together!

An oldie but a goodie. He hummed the tune as he picked up the paper and made his way to the security room where his lucky contestant would be waiting…

But now you’re the star so! Here we go! Here we go! Here we go~!

 “Lucky Contestant! Look what I ha-”

Worse for wear was… quite an understatement. Quite frankly (hah), he expected a much more… optimistic sight.

His red-gloved hand, holding the decently sized stack of important papers, fell to his side. He stepped into the room, his footsteps heavy and loud.

Face down on the couch — the one he had graciously moved from storage — was his contestant, muttering to himself.

 “Contestant? Oh, don’t be so down!” He tried to get their attention.

The contestant didn’t move an inch, not even a glance his way.

Frankie, begrudgingly, sat down on the children-sized chair nearby. Or maybe it was adult-sized, it’s not like they made chairs for freakishly tall rabbit animatronics…

The rabbit gently sighed and looked up at the many monitors. He half expected to see Henry and his monster twin cleaning up when he remembered.

Oh, right. Another problem for later…

He turned back and startled. Now the contestant was looking at him, the mask on his face obscuring the tired expression he very likely had on his face. Or maybe he was angry? Oh, but why would he be angry? He made a choice, an optimistic one at that.

 “Right, now that I’ve got your attention! It’s time to sign off on our... deal.” He grinned.

 “Are you planning on killing me?”

It came out rather bluntly, quite rude. But not an… inaccurate assumption.

 He sighed and leaned over, “I need you. Why would I get rid of my star so soon?”

Silence.

 “You didn’t deny it…” his voice was quiet, a stark contrast to the confidence he had expected.

Then again… he could always be reconsidering… No! No! Not happening! He already agreed, this was merely a contract — a pact to hash out the details of the deal they already made.

 “I mean it, contestant. If I have no reason to hurt you, I won’t. My answer is no.”

Silence again.

The contestant reached his hand out. Frankie put the pile of papers in his hand. He began quietly flipping through the contract, reading every line, every agreement they were making.

He really isn’t the talkative type…

Worrisome, he thought for a second there he might finally have someone to talk to in-between boring, oh boring paperwork!

...He should look into the progress of getting Frankie and Henry back…

His eyes scanned the walls of the little room he was often huddled up in. Oh, right! Deputy Duck needed repairs too. Not really as important as the other two but still necessary.

 Henry, why did you need to have such a grudge? That wasn’t in the script…

The flutter of another page turning filled his ears bringing him back to the task at hand. Last page.

The contestant visibly paused when they reached the final page. He slowly looked up at Frankie.

 “If you’re wondering about the apartment, don’t fret! I’ve got it all handled!” He grinned, knowing exactly what they were puzzled about. “Deer Creek is a lovely place! And it’s practically next door!”

Better yet, the apartments around there were fancy but affordable. Saved him the trouble of explaining an outrageous expense to the higher-ups…

His contestant flipped back to the first page. It was not a very lengthy agreement, but it would suffice for a worst-case scenario involving the blue and red lights. A little motivation, if you will. It made the deal feel more normal, more… secure.

 “Think of this as your night job! Your 5 million dollars will begin processing the moment you sign this. The rest depends on how well you do. And to anyone watching, you’ve hit it big with a well-paying night-job… so long as you keep quiet about what it is you’re actually doing.” His voice darkened at the end as if to emphasize he was still the host of this twisted game show.

He grabbed a pen from the desk beside him and offered it to the contestant. He would give the contestant this choice. He could walk out right now, take the 5 million, and be haunted for the rest of his life knowing if he were to dare speak up someone would be sent to deal with him immediately. Or he could sign their agreement and possibly receive up to nearly double the amount with a side of adventure.

 “I have one condition,” his contestant spoke abruptly.

 Frankie tilted his head, “And that is? Come on! Try me! Your wildest dreams!” So long as it wasn’t outrageously expensive…

The first 5 million was supposed to be an exaggeration. No one was ever supposed to win so…

The higher-ups were going to have a fun time chewing him out for that. As if it was his fault to begin with —

The contestant grabbed the pen and wrote something down, he turned it over for Frankie to see.

A new agreement was added.

 The Star Contestant will not be harmed by the Real Frankie or the other members of Frankie’s Parkour Palace.

Smart. Very smart... He left that out hoping by some chance the contestant wouldn’t notice. Not that it would do much in the long run, but still…

He couldn’t help but smile. He liked this guy. The way he thought, the way he behaved. Why, it was like they were perfect for each other! He couldn’t ask for a better partnership.

 “As previously stated, you will not be harmed! I need you. Our ratings need you. Keep bringing in the money and those ratings,” he took the pen and signed off, “And you’ll live another day.”

 “So? What do you say, partner?” He handed the pen back to the contestant who took it with a hesitant hand.

Was he really about to sign away his life on this? There was no stipulation of how long he had to be on the show, technically speaking, he could back out after one season. Frankie would get him to stay for longer though. He would.

Frankie will always find a way.

 “Fine,” the contestant muttered under his breath. His signature was quick and messy, getting it over with.

There it was. The contract.

Sure, it was more of a sketchy, easily breakable— given their history of breaking, well, laws… and it was not technically a full legally binding contract. But! This meant their negotiations were over. No backing out now.

For Frankie, the company, or the Contestant.

Frankie burst into laughter. He laughed, oh boy did he laugh.

 “For some reason, I was expecting a little more out of you, Contestant!” He admitted between chuckles, “You didn’t even put up a fight!”

The contestant simply shrugged.

What was up with this guy? Oh, he would love to get into his brain and see all the jumbled thoughts running around…

 “You’re surprisingly okay with this! The gore, the blood, the violence! You’d do it all for the money? The thrill? The sake of it? Or perhaps there’s some deep-rooted, repressed trauma I would love to know all about-!” He winked.

The contestant finally sat up and faced him properly. His shoulders relaxed. Ah, there’s that arrogance. That confidence he saw when the contestant came strutting in after surviving Hexa-Havoc. Still, the contestant’s gaze looked down. Contemplative or depressed? He wondered…

 “I have suffered—” Frankie smirked believing he was about to get some kind of backstory, “—the worst of capitalism the likes of you!” The contestant pointed a finger at him, “Could never hope to imagine…”

Frankie blinked. The large, sculpted grin remained firm on his face, mouth slightly agape. Not what he was expecting… but he did anticipate the unexpected from his contestant.

 “Okay then!” He clapped his hands together. His cheery tone never left him, “Well, at least we have the same motivation, my dear lucky contestant! Capitalism remains the biggest horror to us all! But rest assured, as long as you keep up your end of the deal, you will never have to worry about poverty again.” His hands moved, animated with expression as he spoke.

The contestant groaned, mumbling something that sounded like agreement.

Frankie picked up the pile of papers and made his way to the door. He could never get tired of this job. Well, he almost did — a year or so ago, but that was in the past. The present was far more exciting then he could’ve ever dreamed.

He paused just as he was about to walk out. His hand held the side of the door frame as he looked back.

The Lucky Contestant was fidgeting with the pen, spinning it between his fingers — bored.

...Frankie couldn’t have the Contestant getting bored this early, could he? It wasn’t like he could roam around and explore either. The Contestant had seen all there was to the facility and any areas he hadn’t were simply blocked off for repairs.

Then it hit him.

 “Oh, I’ve just remembered!” He snapped his fingers as he turned around, “Your belongings should arrive tomorrow. Unless you want me lugging around who knows what’s inside…! I recommend you wait in the Lobby at… hm, 4 PM?” His thumb landed on his chin, exaggerating his thought process.

The contestant turned up at this.

 “That soon?” He sounded surprised, as if he didn’t expect Frankie to have it all together so quickly.

 Frankie nodded, “Only the best for our star!”

The Contestant clutched the pen tightly.

 “Where you put your stuff is up to you! As long as it doesn’t interfere with… other things,” Frankie said ominously before ducking down to fit in the doorframe and then leaving.

Frankie resumed his walk back to the hidden office humming along the way.

 You’re the star of the show! I’m thinking… I can’t let you go…

 It’s a-! Brand-new day to run and play! Pick those feet up and run!

 Break a leg and seize the day! Pick those feet up and run!

 It’s a brand-new day…

Resting on a couch wasn't easy. You could tell it was old. It was too stiff in some areas and firm on others. Some coils were sticking out at the bottom and it was ripped in a few places.

But it wasn't unfamiliar. Therein lies the problem. The very problem that got you here in the first place.

The couch wasn't uncomfortable, it straightened your back and gave you just enough wiggle room. But still, you couldn't forget the thin layer of dust it had when you first inspected it or the vague smell of burnt plastic.

You were glad to have saved up enough for a nice bed after you finally rented that crappy apartment. But those months spent on an old couch never left you forever cementing the memory of rough nights onto your aching back.

And yet here you were… sleeping on an old, smelly couch. Again.

There was something ironic about it…

The familiarity of the couch, the feeling of being aimless and poor, led you to sleep like an old friend giving you a rough pat on the back or your grandmother's sweet tea while it was burning hot.

You awoke with a start.

Silence filled the room. A wave of calm quickly brought you to your senses. Calm, quiet, and surprisingly well-rested. Your eyes fluttered with sleep as the warmth of the couch and blanket urged you back to bed anyway.

The vague memory of a rabbit silhouette crept back into your mind reminding you of the dream, or nightmare, you just had. You weren’t sure which one it was but you could only assume…

It took you a moment to register the fuzzy cloth draped over you. A cloth which slid down to your chest when you sat up.

...Huh.

You’re pretty sure you didn’t have a blanket when you fell asleep.

Through the mask you accidentally slept in, you peered up at the appropriately Frankie-themed clock. An analog clock, those were rare these days, it screamed ancient.

You just barely managed to make sense of the time when the events of yesterday struck you.

At 4 PM, your belongings would arrive.

You checked the clock again.

4:37

 Crap.

You shoved the blanket off, picked yourself up, and ran. You were thankful you didn’t have a change of clothes yet and the mask conveniently hid your uncombed hair.

As you ran down the hallway to the elevators, your mind began to wander.

Who knows what Frankie would do with your stuff? Maybe he wasn't pure evil, but that didn't mean you trust him with your personal belongings. Plus, he seemed like the kind of guy to ignore a big, bold, “Fragile” sign printed on the box.

You couldn't afford to replace anything if his long springy arms threw around your stuff.

Your foot tapped impatiently until the elevator door dinged. You rushed into the lobby just to see...!

A pile of boxes and a curious rabbit counting cereal.

Many boxes were scattered across the floor, some opened, some empty, and some closed. In total, there must’ve been at least 10 boxes. Packing peanuts spilled all over without much of a care. One of the boxes was flipped onto its side.

To your left, Frankie had a stack of ‘Frankie’s Fruit Flake’ cereal. Most of them were full, last-minute purchases before your life changed indefinitely.

Ignoring the busy rabbit who was too focused on counting your apparent cupboard’s worth of cereal with his face on them, you rushed to check your items.

The first few boxes were full of old books you kept when you first moved out — back when things were…

You glanced at the giant mechanical rabbit counting cereal boxes a few feet away.

…simple.

You accounted for your clothes — all of which were clearly well-loved — your laptop, some knickknacks, even the newspapers you kept. You didn’t have much but it was all there. The unopened boxes had the last of it, your toiletries, basic hygiene things, the hairbrush you didn’t find anywhere else.

 “25 cereal boxes!” Frankie’s voice knocked you out of your stupor.

He placed the last box down, dusting off his hands, and turned around. He froze for a split-second once he saw you before putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head in cartoony fashion.

 “Finally awake? How was your rest? Only the best for my lucky contestant, I hope!” He clapped his hands together making a gesture of care that felt as real as his show.

You dared to spare him a glance. His cheeky grin that never left would never cease to haunt you, would it? You returned to your checklist opening another box to find everything that remained… except your brush.

Where was your hairbrush? It should’ve been inside unless you missed it…? You turned around and began searching the boxes again.

Frankie shrugged, ignoring your lack of reply. He leaned against the counter watching you check your items with careful precision. You had to make sure everything was here. It was in your nature.

 “You are quite a fan, hm?” He chuckled, amused at the idea, “Or do you like my cereal that much?”

You shook your head, exasperated. You began wondering if his suit had a mute button…But you indulged him because who could blame you for being bored and lonely?

 “769 boxes, actually,” you muttered, admittedly a bit embarrassed — if it were anyone normal you told this to. You wondered what he would say to such a thing. More teasing?

Frankie’s hands froze in front of him. You could practically hear the metaphorical glass breaking as he must’ve realized the lengths you’d gone to get on his show.

It took everything in you to resist bursting in laughter.

25 was only the number you bought recently. 769 was the number you accumulated over the course of at least a year or so. And if he did the math… he would know that final 25 was more than out of your budget. It got you on the show but…

 “769…” he quietly repeated the number, “For…how long...?”

It felt wrong to imply that a mean egotistical rabbit could be worried. You knew everything about this show was fake, although the robots were up for debate..

You glared at him. He knew your situation. He knew you were desperate. He must’ve underestimated just how desperate you are. If money ran the world, then you were stuck crawling in last place.

 “A year,” you begrudgingly answered.

This was the humiliating part of being down on your luck — admitting the lengths you would go for some sense of stability. You’d never get back the time or money you invested into this grotesque gameshow, you could only sink yourself deeper.

 “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner…” he hummed.

Frankie is… odd. His loud boisterous attitude was missing, perhaps in shock you knocked it out of him. Figures, you could do that to a talking mechanical rabbit.

 “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” You repeated dully.

You will never forget the dreadful taste of bland, vaguely fruit-flavored cereal.

Your hand hit something hard among the pile of clothes in this particular box you were searching. There it was! Your hairbrush was stashed among the last of your clothes.

 “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner!” Frankie nodded and his dreadfully upbeat demeanor returned. “Frankie's Fruit Flakes is a breakfast cereal but really, it's quite nutritious. The perfect meal for a second and third breakfast!” He stepped closer, eyeing the boxes you had opened.

 “I just hope you didn't spend all your money! You'd miss out on the plethora of other Frankie themed snacks!” He raised his finger as if highlighting his point while leaning over and meeting your gaze.

You didn't say anything and moved onto the next box.

Frankie stood still, frozen again. He was buffering like a TV screen today.

To your shame, the next box was full of cereal. You had completely forgotten the actual number of boxes you bought within the last 4 weeks. You didn't bother to use them all, only purchasing them in search of the tape before shoving them aside when they inevitably did not have it.

The last 25 boxes, that you now recalled was actually more like 30, mocked you as Frankie began to pull them out one by one adding them to his growing pile of your bad purchases.

 “32!” He muttered, surprised yet amused. His grin widened.

You frowned.

 “Now–” you wanted to groan as he stepped closer again, “How was your rest? My Lucky contestant needs to be well rested for today’s practice!” He clapped his hands.

 Your head perked up, “Practice?” You muttered.

 “You must have trained a little before arriving, given your…” he paused and turned his head to the pile of cereal boxes, “…enthusiastic spending habits! A little bit of practice while we wait couldn't hurt, hm?” His head tilted in question.

You supposed he was right. You barely managed to get into decent shape before entering the contest. If you were going to be the star, you had to practice and stay on top. And with the sudden apartment change, access to a hefty sum of money, and loads of good food…

 “Yeah, practice,” you shrugged. Although you couldn't help the small smile forming beneath your mask.

Despite the circumstance, it felt… good? There was still the possibility you could die, but if you were to trust Frankie, practice your parkour, and hone your skills so even the most basic parkour was easy to you..? You could do anything. This entire park was already beneath you in terms of difficulty. And, hey! You had real food now. No more Frankie’s Fruit Flake Cereal ever again!

You couldn't wait to go on a spending spree…

 “Well? Did the couch treat you well?” He asked yet again, refusing to give up the question of whether or not you had a good sleep.

You shrugged. As good as any old couch could.

 Frankie hummed, “Good.” The cereal boxes distracted him as he began piling them up into a tower.

 “If everything is in order, we better get moving. I don't have all day!” He spoke cheerfully despite his careful preciseness in placing another box to form the base of his tower.

You sighed. Only one more box left anyway. You turned and knelt down to open it and check its contents. You immediately regretted it. Inside were your old blankets that were long overdue for replacement, a familiar plushie you’d forgotten about, and a note stuck to a final cereal box.

A note written in familiar cursive lettering.

 “Oh, I see! You were holding out on me, my Lucky contestant!” You jumped hearing Frankie’s voice behind you. How did you not hear his giant footsteps creeping up behind you?

He picked up the plushie with a delicate hand, pinching it between two large fingers.

 “A little plush of Frankie! You are a big fan!” He chuckled, “I'm flattered!” He held the plush loosely.

It was a newer plush, one you had regrettably splurged on when you really shouldn’t have. The little hat had crooked ears, one of which was ripped in half and improperly sewn back on. The hat sported two cards instead of one, a bright red and ridiculously big bowtie. It was missing Other Frankie’s pants, but it was essentially the same thing. You had a plushie of the robot standing before you. Could it get any worse?

You decided not to think about it too much, instead turning to the note. Hearing a squeeze and a thud behind you, you read the note.

 Hey, little rabbit.

 Did you forget about me? I came over yesterday, but you weren’t here.

Your eyes widened. You completely forgot!

 Did you finally get a new job and didn’t tell me? Don’t forget to catch me up next time, alright?

 Love you! Signed–

 “Hm? And what’s that?” Frankie peered over your shoulder at the note.

You shoved the note into the box and quickly picked it up.

 “Nothing, just-” your foot touched something squishy.

You quickly looked down, it was the plush looking a bit more mangled than usual, then back up. Frankie stared back at you, uncomfortably close. Your face is mere inches away from Frankie’s unlike the good foot of space you had before looking away.

Seriously, were you going deaf? Or was he just good at sneaking around?

 “…I’m going to put these boxes in the security room,” you quietly muttered.

He stared into your eyes blankly. Or rather, the mask’s eyes. You were glad he couldn’t see your actual eyes. It made the whole thing far less creepy than it would be.

 Then, as if snapping out of a trance, he pulled back and clapped his hands. “Good idea! I’ll help you get all set up!” He grabbed several boxes, 2 in each arm.

You made a mental note not to let him touch any of the boxes with your fragile electronics inside.

Between the two of you and your small load of belongings, it didn’t take long to fill up the elevator and begin lifting boxes down the hall to the security room.

Frankie was humming some obscure theme. You were busy thinking about what you were going to say when you got settled into your new apartment. How would you begin explaining your sudden obsession with cereal boxes? Let alone your new income.

 “You and me, Lucky. We’re going to make an excellent team.” You could hear the obscenely large grin in his voice.

You rolled your eyes despite his inability to witness it.

 “We’re already making so much progress together!” He set the boxes down once you reached the room.

 “Just imagine all that we could do together! Let’s have a bit of fun while it lasts!” He followed close behind as you returned to the elevator and picked up the last boxes.

 He kept talking, “Before you know it, you’ll be rolling in money! The company will be happy, I will be happy. When Henry and the others come back, I want to show them how good of a t-”

 “If you say team one more time-!” You huffed.

Frankie leaned closer. You were starting to think his concept of personal space was nonexistent.

 “A team.”

You huffed, this rabbit knew how to get on your nerves.

 “I will climb your sorry excuse of a suit and bash your face in,” you scowled.

Frankie laughed. The sound of his laughter was exactly how you'd expect it. Loud, light, an odd combination of soft and menacing.

 “We both know I could.”

His laughter took a pause. Then he spoke again.

 “You know, if you took any longer, I was going to dump all of your precious little things into the sewers. I told you, 4 PM. Sharp.” He leaned in and bopped your nose.

 “You— what?!” You bristled at the thought. For what reason?! Staying in bed?! You did that all the time how could he expect you to suddenly—

Frankie’s laughter brought you back to your senses. Just as you had startled, your heart soon settled. You groaned loudly. There was no point, you were hopeless and stuck with a giant rabbit who would torment you at any given moment.

This is what you signed up for.

 “So, when are Henry and the others going to be… back?” You questioned.

 Frankie’s laughter lulled to a quiet, “Can’t say,” he held his finger to his mouth making a shushing gesture, “It's a secret!”

 “Great.”

Chapter Text

Maybe it was the aching legs, the sleep you definitely did not have, or the Frankie breakfast cereal you never touched...

You couldn’t get out of bed.

You laid there quietly staring up at the ceiling, contemplating.

Are you really doing this? Just like that? Maybe you should’ve ran when you had the chance. Yeah, that would’ve made more sense.

Why would you want to work with a murderous rabbit anyway? Nostalgia? Money?

You could answer those questions, but you weren’t in the mood. So, like any reasonable person doomed to work with a giant murder robot rabbit in a giant facility with no way out, lest you suffer the wrath of poverty, you stared at the ceiling.

You and the ceiling had a wonderful conversation.

 ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ It asked.

 ‘Horrible, I struck a deal with the devil,’ you responded.

 ’That’s too bad… at least you have me! I’m brand new!’

 ’I can see that.’

The new apartment wasn’t bad. In fact, it was a major improvement. The walls were white, a plethora of modern decor flashed your eyes the moment you opened the door. Not a single sign of rot, cobwebs, or the stains on the floor you couldn’t bother to clean up.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off…

It felt…wrong. And yet, you still believe you deserve this. After all, you won an unbeatable and quite literally rigged gameshow which had never been beaten in…what? 30 years, give or take? You are one of a kind. You are special.

How long had it been now? You didn’t have a watch, and you’d rather laze around then decipher the fancy clock by your bedside.

Before you had moved in, all your items were stashed in Frankie’s security room. You spent most of your three days there watching over your stuff. So, when the time came, you were well prepared to make the trip. Frankie helped. A lot. He smiled at you — not that he could frown, rather he had a tendency to sound happy — and carried most of the boxes to the entrance.

It felt like a trap. The moment you stepped out that door you fully expected to be faced with Monster Frankie and immediately be eaten alive. But here you are, in your new apartment waiting for the message Frankie had promised to send you once your ‘new job’ began. A boring Monday evening.

Your neighbors were nice at least. You had met quite a few of them just the other day.

You had rushed to enter your apartment and take off the rabbit suit. You wouldn’t want your new neighbors to start talking. As soon as you were out the door to collect more of your stuff, a nice older man greeted you. You went around and exchanged pleasantries. As it turns out, not many people had the money to move in making you a rare newcomer in their little community. They were more than ready to welcome you with open arms.

You were glad. You needed a sense of normalcy after…everything you had gone through. You got a few treats from it, too! You weren’t one to turn down free food.

For the most part, everything felt normal. Except your bed wasn’t old and rotting, your clock actually worked, and most of all it didn’t look like you had gone on a manic spending spree for Frankie’s Fruit Flakes cereal like it was going out of stock. All of the boxes you had were either packed away to serve you until you went on a grocery run or left behind at the Parkour Palace.

There were too many things to do. You had to go buy food, new clothes, splurge on a couple of things you couldn’t reasonably afford before. Your gaze landed on your old Frankie plush, it was decrepit and nearly torn apart. You were even contemplating going out and getting a few materials for—

Ring, ring!

You bolted up and looked around, spooked to the core as your mind reminded you of Henry’s dial tone. Recalling your shaky hands as you carried Deputy Duck around, lifting and slamming phone after phone and just barely making it back to the safe zone before—

Ring, ring!

Somewhere in your new apartment, a phone was ringing. Now that you thought of it, you didn’t have your own cell phone. How was Frankie planning on contacting you? You looked around wondering if you had seen a phone somewhere. Could it be a landline? You didn’t see any around here and — the ringing grew louder the closer you stepped to your closet.

It was a walk-in closet. Fitting for an upper-middle class apartment. It was also where you had shoved the boxes full of your clothes and blankets. You shoved the boxes around looking for a lost phone from the previous tenant. That was until you remembered there likely wasn’t a previous tenant. These apartments were new. So where could it…

You began digging through the boxes. The ringing had stopped, going to voicemail for whoever was on the other end. It didn’t take long for it to begin ringing again. You began thinking, there’s no way Frankie would have…

You opened the box of old blankets and made a mental note to add it to the list of things you had to buy. Digging through the box, you didn’t find anything except for the peculiar note you almost forgot about. You stared at it for a few seconds before slipping it back into the box. You felt bad for disappearing without letting her know. It slipped your mind and then you finally found the tape for the gameshow and now…

Ring! Ring!

There were more important things at hand.

You closed the box and shoved it aside slipping your hand into a box filled with your clothes.

The ringing was louder, pressuring you to answer. You rummaged around and eventually found something hiding at the bottom. You pulled it out. The phone buzzed in your hand. The bright light flashed your tired eyes. You squinted and stared at the phone.

Unknown Caller

Sneaky bastard. Was he planning on telling you about this or did he expect you to figure it out on your own?

You swiped and answered the phone.

 An upbeat, deep voice immediately spoke, “Ah! Lucky Contestant! I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to pick up!” He chuckled.

Something about his voice is off. Something was missing. His voice was clear as if it lacked some kind of echo or static.

 “Who knows what would’ve happened if you didn’t…” His voice deepened, ominous and threatening.

 “Sorry, I didn’t know you hid a phone in a random box I threw in my closet,” you grumbled.

 Silence.

 “Did someone wake up on the wrong side of bed? Well, don’t worry! I have something prepared that will cheer you right up!” He proclaimed loudly.

You finally decided to glance at the clock by your bed. The little clock blinked 8:00 am. Sure, it might as well be 8 am.

 “What is it?” you reluctantly asked as you shut your closet door and slumped onto your bed.

 “A little surprise!” he chuckled, “Now, get off that comfy bed of yours and head on down to the Parkour Palace! The address has already been sent to your brand new cellular device — by the way, I hope you like it.”

Before you could respond, he hung up.

Great. Turns out, today was a ‘work’ day. And you had just the right amount of sleep to go with it, amazing.

You unlocked the phone, not expecting much. To your surprise, an image of Henry, Frankie, and Deputy Duck was set as your wallpaper. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You smiled awkwardly at the photo thinking on how these three, four including the Other Frankie, were about to become your co-workers.

The text appeared as a notification on the screen. Tapping on it, you were sent to a sketchy messaging app. For some reason, you were expecting to receive the message on the default app, but the more you looked at it the more it seemed like one of those special company apps created specifically for work-related reasons.

 That’s not ominous at all! You thought to yourself as you began reading the address sent to you by a user listed as TempICS_TheOther. The address was the same as before. Now it just felt more…permanent. It stared at you on your phone, sitting there as if any moment now it would delete itself and this nightmare would go away. Of course, it didn’t.

Ding! A new message.

Don’t forget to wear your costume!

You closed the app and met with your wallpaper again. The cartoony sprites of each character meeting your eyes.

Frankie wasn’t a part of them, was he? The internal system seemed to call him, ‘The Other’ and the cartoon version never featured a Frankie with pink pants. At least, not the version you remember seeing alongside the other characters…

Then, you wondered how many Frankie’s there were in total. Could that animated toon version — the same one on your screen — count as a separate Frankie, different from Monster Frankie? You had no way of knowing it wasn’t a secret third Frankie… It did sound different from the Other Frankie when it yelled at you in Hexa-Havoc. The real Frankie seemed way too put-together to curse like that and Monster Frankie didn’t talk.

As far as you could tell…

Robotic intelligence has advanced enough to make it plausible. But would the company have enough money to splurge on something like that? It certainly seemed like they did at some point given Deputy Duck’s unique functions.

Having enough of your own thoughts, you slipped out of bed and into new clothes. You contemplated putting on the costume but figured the changing room by the entrance of the Parkour Palace would be open before you went inside. You left your apartment, bag over your arm and sucked in a breath. You hope nothing will go wrong.

You left the dressing room after slipping on a jacket over top of your suit. The lobby was just the same as it was before. You noticed the breakers were still on meaning the doors and the paths you had opened weren't closed. Maybe they would be once the new season started. Adjusting the mask on your head, you glanced to the elevator door leading to the utilidors — where Frankie must be.

He didn't tell you where to meet up, just for you to show up. So here you are waiting in the lobby…

 “Welcome back, my lucky contestant!” The rabbit's voice finally cut in on the intercom. You expected him to be much quicker at noticing your presence. Something was up.

You looked up searching for the camera or intercom to no avail. You didn't find it the first time and you weren't going to find it this time either. The cameras he used were well hidden, it seemed. For what reason? So you couldn't tell when was watching you?

 “Excited for your first day on the job? Well, good news! I have a little surprise for you. Head down to Deputy Duck's area, I’ll meet you there!” The intercom clicked off abruptly, cutting off Frankie’s last word a second too short.

You’re not sure what to expect but whatever the surprise was, you could only hope it had nothing to do with parkour. After last night’s lack of sleep, you’re not sure you could take on a whole course. You’d run out of stamina by the first jump.

Thinking extensively on your lack of free will, you turned to the Party Check In to your right and hopped over the fence then pushed yourself off the desk. How long has it been since someone worked here? Much longer than at least a decade given the amount of dust and dirt you had to wipe off your hands.

You walked down the corridor reminiscing about your first steps in the Parkour Palace back when you were still somewhat naive and unaware of the future repercussions of your actions. As you walked down the corridor you noticed a door you never opened. It was locked but peering through the small window you could clearly see some kind of…elevator?

You would have to ask Frankie about it. You have many unanswered questions about the layout of this place you were dying to know. Where was this mysterious Finding Frankie place mentioned on the maps? It seemed as much of a final room as Hexa-Havoc, would that be your big finale for this upcoming season?

Down the steps, an ominous purple light led you to empty boxes and stacked up chairs. You’ve never been down this path before. You knew it existed; you’ve seen the maps but to be behind the scenes with your new employee access felt… odd. It feels like you’ve become one of them.

Just as you finished your thought, something snagged on your shoe. Upon closer inspection, it was a page torn out of a newspaper. You stooped down and quickly skimmed its contents. You recognize this page. It had been among the newspapers you came across when researching about the place prior to your decision to participate in the show.

A shift in direction for Frankie… it made you wonder how it went so downhill for it to end up like this.

You picked yourself up and continued on the path until you saw the sign welcoming you to Deputy Duck’s area. Immediately upon entering your ears were graced with the sounds of quacking and heavy footsteps.

 “You-! You mangy incessant…!” An exasperated, shrill voice called out following by the pitter patter of small steps.

You turned the corner and witnessed a sight to behold.

A tall eloquently dressed telephone man scuttled around narrowly avoiding the tiny staggering nubs of a Noob Noob. To your right sitting beside the computers on the reception desk was the familiar, no longer broken, face of Deputy Duck. The duck sharply turned his head to you, squinting his eyes before turning back to the scene before you. He did a double take, looking between you and then back at Henry fending off the Noob Noob.

 “Good to see you too…” you muttered as you leaned against the desk.

The Noob Noob and Henry went in circles, one narrowly avoiding the other.

You experienced first-hand what it was like to have a Noob Noob blow up in your face. You weren’t willing to test it again and kept your distance. It was like a game. Every time the Noob Noob walked too close Henry would back off. Every time Henry was a second too late to back off, he tested the limit cutting the distance shorter.

It felt like forever until he noticed your presence. His head whipped around looking for the Noob Noob chasing him. His gaze met your face, confusion and concern settling in.

 “A contestant? Why- Why is there a contestant here?! There shouldn’t be anyone here!” He marched over to you. His footsteps were just as heavy as you remembered. It sent shivers down your spine. You could almost hear the ringing…

You shook your hands in front of you to ward him off.

 “Wait!” you spoke ducking down beneath his arms just as he reached to grab you.

 “Didn’t Frankie tell you-?” You looked back and noticed a hidden Noob Noob standing behind the desk. Its bug-eyed stare burned into your mind as it stared back at you.

 “Frankie? No, no. Why would they let you back in here? You. You should be dead!” Henry took a stride forward before pausing in his tracks, “Unless…they still have plans for you.”

Before you could respond, Deputy Duck met the carpet with a quack and a loud thud. Both you and Henry turned to the duck.

 Static, a garbled mess, a quack and then, “That would be correct!” he finally spoke giving you an odd sense of relief. “Our lucky contestant here has struck a deal which will be explained in due time!” His voice lowered into a bit of a whisper, “Side note: I’m running a bit late. Feel free to chat amongst yourselves! Get acquainted, or not!” Frankie’s voice cut out just as he began to giggle. Deputy Duck completed the message with a loud quack.

One thing came to mind immediately, Frankie can use Deputy Duck as a walkie talkie? Or is that new?

You picked up Deputy Duck, flinching as he smacked your hand before he let you set him up on the desk again. Henry quietly muttered, shaking his head. At least he wasn’t going to kill you now…?

 “You’ve made a horrible decision, haven’t you?” His voice pitched up, way too close and clear to your ears.

It lacked the muffled filter you associated him with, a result of standing in an open room unburdened by padded walls or the thumping of your heartbeat or the ringing in your ears.

 “You should’ve escaped while you had the chance,” Henry muttered unamused by your horrible life decisions.

You shrugged. You already beat yourself up over it enough. You pretty much accepted your fate at this point. You were going to be on the next season whether you liked it or not. Henry and Deputy Duck were clearly rebuilt for that very purpose. Everything was steadily leading to it. It definitely helped your sense of impending doom and deep-seated regret!

 Henry sank down into one of the chairs behind the desk. You weren’t sure what kind of expression he was wearing. Disappointment, anger, general irritation? Or maybe it was that migraine again. Oh, wait. You should probably warn him about—

The Noob Noob hiding behind the desk peeked out and screamed upon seeing Henry.

 “Oh, you have got to be–!” Henry kicked the Noob Noob as far away as possible. The Noob Noob came your way, knocking into the cubby and falling onto the floor resulting in its blood splatter getting all over the cubby shelves and your shoes.

 “Everything screams,” he began muttering and clutching his head, “Everything screams and rings in here. Can’t catch a break, no, no, not a single break!” He huffed.

Poor Henry…

You quickly looked around. The other Noob Noob was hiding in the corner. You hope it would stay there. As long as no one came close, it shouldn’t move so you should be safe.

The moment you turned back a new interesting sight beheld your eyes. Deputy Duck was squinting, glaring at Henry as he did to you when you first picked him up. Henry tried to ignore him for the most part.

Tried was the keyword. As you waited for the Real Frankie to arrive, intermittently, the duck would let out an obnoxious quack. You watched as Henry’s head twitched almost instinctively as the Quacks grew more frequent one minute and far between in the next. At one point the Quacks came every other second, then every third second, then every fourth…

It was starting to annoy you too. Catching the Noob Noobs as many times as you did made your ears ring. The sound of ringing chilled you to the bone. You’ve begun to associate with the horrors of Frankie as a whole. And now the quacks?

 Quack.

You were starting to see why Henry had a constant headache.

 Quack… Quack… Quack. Quack. Quack… Quack!

It made an audible crunch as Henry grabbed Deputy Duck by its small neck and squeezed. You could hear the tightness of his grip. The duck aggressively pecked at his hand, flailing helplessly. In response, Henry threw the duck across the room, you flinch, and it smacked the wall with one final resounding quack.

Turns out, you didn’t need to wonder what would’ve happened if Henry caught you in the maze or the chase. The sight, while hilarious in every other aspect, sent shivers down your spine. The sheer raw strength this mascot possessed would be enough to break your neck if he wanted to.

You leaned against the desk while pulling your eyes away from the defeated duck still glaring at Henry from across the room. The clock was loud as time ticked by. Frankie said he was running late but with what? It might’ve been somewhat bearable to be in the same room as a mascot that hunted you down if he was here.

Actually, thinking you feel safer with Frankie in the room is…

You weren’t going to question it. You’ve pondered your life enough.

 “So…” you awkwardly began, “It wasn’t part of the cartoon?”

Henry picked up his head and looked at you.

 “What? What do you mean?” he sounded genuinely confused.

 You cleared your throat — a nervous habit you picked up somewhere, “You and Deput—”

 He growled, “Deputy Duck?” interrupting you before you could finish the clarification.

 You blinked in surprise, “Yeah, the—”

 “No, I would never,” he shook his head, “I mean, he’s a very judgmental duck, you know?

You stood, baffled. Henry seemed indecisive but it was clear to you there is a real resentment between the two mascots. The cameras were off unless Frankie had turned them on without you knowing…?

 “Okay,” you sighed, “I literally don’t know what the hell you’re on about. Do you two have beef or not?”

Henry didn’t grace you with an answer.

You sat down on one of the chairs conceding to uncomfortable silence. You pulled out your phone, took off one of your gloves to avoid the struggle with cloth you knew all too well, and began setting it up. You entered your files and accounts onto it hoping it wasn’t somehow filled with spyware. But why would the company need to monitor your phone? They had clearly just given it to you for contact reasons and it’s not like you had much left to hide. They know where you live.

Horrific but true.

You barely noticed when he walked in the room. His loud boisterous voice interrupted whatever it was you were doing.

 “My apologies! That took longer than expected…” you looked up to see Frankie addressing you and Henry.

Frankie passed by you and looked up.

 “Come on now, we all have to work together! I can assure you. The cameras are off. There will be no stalking and haunting until further notice!” He grinned oddly, gesturing for something to come down.

Monster Frankie landed with a thud, and you jumped in your seat dropping your phone in the process leaving you feeling as if you had just seen a spider. Though to be fair, you just witnessed something much worse.

 “Holy shi—!” How long has he been there?!

If you had just looked up, would you have seen him?

 “First day on the job, try to keep it together,” Frankie muttered by your ear — when did he get so close?

His arm sprung forward and picked up your phone handing it back to you.

Monster Frankie stepped forward, his head tilting in confusion. He towered over you as you sank in your chair. It was like that moment in the vents all over again. His face close, dangerous sharp teeth in range to pounce and bite.

 “Hold it!” the Real Frankie stepped in, “Not yet.” His arm stretched out in front of you protecting you from Monster Frankie’s vicious gaze. Through the gaps in the coils you could still see the two beady eyes staring you down appearing as if they were caged by those same coils.

The monster turned away from you and focused his glare on Frankie. Unlike you, the real Frankie was unbothered by such a dangerous stare.

He stepped back and settled down, away from you — for now.

You swore you heard Frankie sigh. Or maybe your ears were playing tricks on you and that was the sound of the coils retracting.

 “Let me get one thing straight!” he stepped forward his gaze turning between the monster and Henry. “Starting now, no harm will come to Lucky! Do I make myself clear?”

 Silence filled the room. You feel like a rabbit among wolves. Well-fitting, considering your costume.

 “Alright!” Frankie continued on, “Well, long story short, Lucky will be working alongside us to ensure the prosperity of this show! Make sure to treat the newbie well!”

 “He’s going to die,” Henry muttered. Very reassuring for you.

Frankie slowly turned his head and stared at him.

 “You don’t— you can’t believe the viewers will be entertained by one measly contestant. As soon as he messes up, it’s back to the same charade. There isn’t a reason to make him welcome. In fact, he shouldn’t be welcome. He will suffer the same fate they all do.” Henry stood up facing Frankie with scrutiny.

Frankie shook his head, a short laugh escaped him.

 “This is the opportunity of a lifetime! Just imagine all we could do! Our audience will be fooled. We give them false hopes, dreams of watching one contestant win. Now, it’s our chance to pick up the pace! Lucky will help us mold that facade. He’s beaten us once, you better believe he could do it again!”

But Henry wasn’t convinced, he crossed his arms and disagreed still.

 “This is why we nearly went bankrupt! We were given a second chance and now you— the higher ups decided to run off and toy with it. This is risky. Too risky,” he chuckled between sentences, a nervous tick.

You looked just a little off to the side from the ensuing argument and noticed Monster Frankie. It was subtle, but he was pawing at the ground. His gaze settled on you, watching you. You can feel the contempt. You can feel how wrong this was. You feel how much he wants to kill you, if only it weren’t for Frankie who was standing a couple feet away.

 “Come on, friend,” Frankie chuckled, “This is what we’ve been missing! One special piece of the puzzle to make for a much more interesting show.” He wrapped his arm around Henry.

 Henry tensed, “You— You are not my friend.” He pulled out of Frankie’s grip, “The higher ups added you to the cast as a last-minute ditch effort to increase the ratings. You and the contestant shouldn’t be here.” He pointed at you and Frankie, blatantly separating the both of you from the rest of them.

Frankie’s gaze landed on you for what felt like a split-second.

 He chuckled, if you weren’t so sure before you could certainly tell he was nervous now, “What are you on about, Henry?” He shook his head, “You seem to have forgotten whose in charge! You know me, there’s no need to be so hostile!”

 “No!” Henry outright refuted, “According to them, that- that monster and I are friends. You were never part of the equation. We- I don’t know you, you’re only lucky you have the word of the higher-ups.”

At this point, you felt like you were watching a drama show. You knew ‘the real’ Frankie was added to the cast recently. You had deduced that much from your time on the show. So why was he trying to insist he and Henry were acquainted?

Or was it an attempt to make you feel small and isolated? You weren’t the only newcomer…that’s what made you both different from the others. So, maybe that’s why…

 Frankie sighed, “Enough of that. Whether you like it or not, Lucky is here to stay! If all goes according to plan, we will never have to worry about bankruptcy again. Sometimes, a little risk is necessary.” You could feel the wink imbedded in his speech even if his face couldn’t actually express it.

 “Lucky?” Henry questioned quietly.

Your gaze landed on Henry. It took you a moment to realize what he was asking.

 “Oh, I didn’t even notice…” you muttered. You had been responding to it this whole time without a second thought.

 “Notice what exactly?” Frankie looked between you two, confused but curious.

 “Uh, you’ve been calling me Lucky,” You explained.

It also took a Frankie to process what you were saying.

 “Oh, silly me! I figured it was easier than calling you ‘the lucky contestant’ all the time! A sweet and conveniently short nickname! I hope you like it because I have zero ideas for an alternative!” He clapped his hands together, smiling.

You shrugged, it wasn’t like you could give out your real name anyway. Not that you wanted to.

 Henry laughed quietly, “Don’t get too attached, Frankie.”

What was that phrase again? Don’t name something unless you want to get attached. You’d much rather Frankie get attached to you and be unable to kill you than the alternative…as bothersome as that was. That and Frankie’s nickname for you felt more like a name for a pet than a real nickname. You would never be anything more than bitter coworkers at the very best.

Ignoring Henry’s comment, Frankie addressed you.

 “Now that you’ve been acquainted with your coworkers, I suggest you practice some parkour. We need our contestant in tip-top shape! Just so you know, the new season begins soon enough.” He hummed.

Parkour...oh, how you dreaded it this morning. Of course, you can’t escape it.

 You groaned, “Is there at least somewhere I can grab something to eat first?” Your lack of breakfast had caught up to you, as expected.

 “These facilities weren’t made for living contestants,” Henry answered instead. You weren’t asking him but sure, you appreciated the answer anyway.

 “However—!” Frankie glanced at Henry giving him a look which very much felt like a side eye, “There are plenty of cereal boxes in the security room!”

Ah, if only you knew why there was so much fresh cereal. You mentally patted yourself on the back for leaving behind most of your collection of Frankie Fruit cereal then kicked your past self for making future-you eat that stupid cereal again.

 “Wow, great,” you gritted your teeth, “I’ll remember to eat breakfast next time…”

You need to go on a grocery run tomorrow but the idea of begging Frankie for your rightfully earned money was horrifying.

Frankie pushed you forward and sent you on your merry way to the food court.

 “Don’t forget to do your daily practice!” His voice muffled as you turned the corner.

You wanted to smile, weirdly enough. The odd sense of comfort you felt in Frankie’s presence gave you enough of a clue of what your future would be.

Comfort. Comfort in not being the only one new to everything.

Running a gameshow isn’t the easiest thing in the world. Now, ordering around a bunch of buffoons? That was even harder.

Typically, complete cast rehearsals were non-existent for this job. The most rehearsal anyone did was on their own time. Bug-testing, proofing, and running through lines over and over again until everything was good enough. So long as the suit worked, your voice was clear, and every step of the show was nicely memorized as written there was no need for the entire cast to be in one place.

Today was the exception.

Henry exploding was, obviously, part of the plan.

Frankie wasn’t.

Neither was Deputy Duck but he was a minor issue that could’ve been put off if it weren’t for Monster Frankie needing a replacement.

So, for the first time in their run of the show everyone was together to test their equipment and rehearse. The higher-ups were far too preoccupied with giving him the last-minute details regarding everyone’s presence when he had places to be.

Now, Frankie found himself directing the most frustrating group of individuals one could possibly find. This definitely wasn’t part of his job but who was he to question the word of the higher-ups?

 “No, again! You two can’t think you hate each other that much? Where’s the fun in that? Where’s that teamwork? That strained but definitely great friendship?”

Henry turned his head away, his hands curling into fists.

The monster stared into the distance.

 Quack!

Frankie turned toward Deputy Duck, who was still sitting on the desk adjacent to them. Silly little thing. It doesn’t know where, when, or what!

 “Let me run you through this again,” he muttered looking through the digital script projected on Deputy Duck’s screen. “Following the renovation of the split halfway, should a contestant get to the elevators Henry and Frankie will approach from each respective door. They will work together to kill any remaining contestants in the hallway.”

Henry stood still, listening but overall unhelpful. The monster twitched its head to the side.

 “First of all, you—” he pointed at Monster Frankie, “—need to stop shoving Henry. You’re both meant to be visible on camera. There’s no need to hog the spotlight.”

Then he ushered Henry to stand beside the monster. Henry backed up, avoiding him as he got closer until he was exactly where they needed him to be.

 “Now…” Frankie glanced over to the duck to reread the scene, “…for a contestant holding Deputy Duck, which will most certainly be our star, Henry needs to—”

He glanced back at Deputy Duck only to do a double take when he realized Lucky was sitting right beside it.

Speaking of their star…

Here he was…for some reason. Eating cereal.

Frankie expected him to stay in the security room and not return. That should’ve been the last time they would see each other for the day.

But here he was! Eating fruit flake cereal with his mask slightly lifted making his nervous smile visible…

 “Continue, don’t mind me.” He spoke so casually.

His mind halted to a stop, all of his frustrations pausing alongside his original thought process. One issue at a time, he told himself. Frankie returned his gaze, ignoring the contestant momentarily. Upon turning back around, he noticed Henry moved from his spot again. He softly tapped his foot. This is fine, he reasoned. This was a one-time thing and he would never have to direct anyone again.

He picked up Deputy Duck and brought it closer to Henry. Henry, seeing the duck get closer and opening it’s mouth to start babbling annoying nonsense, stepped back into place. He heard a giggle behind them. Frankie turned around and witnessed his contestant barely resisting a laugh as he ate the cereal. His mind paused again. This time he felt very suddenly empty and devoid of any thoughts.

 “So…” Lucky took another bite of cereal, “Is this the beef?” He let out a quick chuckle, hiding his smile with his fist.

 Henry sighed, “Sure.”

Frankie glanced between them. An unexplained conversation was here somewhere. Did they take his advi— The sound of grinding gears stole his attention before he could come to a conclusion, his view turning to the monstrous version of himself. The monster’s head twisted and coiled, staring between Henry and the Contestant in a very familiar confused manner almost as if he was asking for permission to…

 QUACK!

Deputy Duck stole everyone’s attention. It squinted at Henry from his hands. Amidst his confusion, he forgot to put it down. He mentally retraced his steps before he was distracted several times over. The most pressing issue…

 “Okay…” he muttered, “Lucky, you’re not supposed to be here!” He tried on a cheery voice pushing past the mental toll of spending more than 15 minutes doing a job he was assigned to last-minute.

His lucky contestant nodded.

 “Yeah,” he agreed with his statement. The crunch of the cereal was too loud for Frankie’s liking.

A pause. Lucky didn’t move.

 “Could you leave?” He tried asking politely while giving Lucky the most pained expression he possibly could without facial expressions. The show could not go on with the risk of spoiling their contestant with what they had planned.

 Lucky hummed, “No, this is entertaining.” Another loud crunch of his cereal. He could see the smile on his face. Confusing, like he just threw a wrench at his face.

Frankie wasn’t a smoker but the temptation suddenly popped into his mind. A very tempting cosmetic choice at least.

Frankie turned around and found Henry to be out of place yet again. He stood as far from Monster Frankie as he could. Well, they’re not getting this rehearsal done today and there was no way management could convince him to help with it again.

 “Is, uh, Henry, are you okay?” the contestant asked out of the blue. He must’ve noticed Henry distancing himself among whatever conversation they had before but surely, he’s realized they’re all hired actors by now.

 “Okay? Why would you ask that?” Henry wondered, his distance becoming more blatantly obvious as the monster took a step toward him and he took a step back.

 “You know, the migraine and uh… your fear of Frankie.”

As if a lightbulb had just been illuminated, Frankie was hit with an opportunity. Lucky was still as much a member of the audience as he was before. In fact, he may as well have been a fan immersing himself with the show and simply forgetting it was just that — a show.

 “Oh,” Henry seemed puzzled, “I’m not actually—”

 “Henry? Oh, not at all! It’ll pass, he’s just a bit shaken up after last episode. You should’ve seen it! Frankie wasn’t so happy after he failed to catch you,” he laughed interrupting Henry before he could ruin anything.

Henry stared inquisitively at Frankie.

 “I’m fine?” He spoke with resounding confusion, “I know I look far worse, but really, if you had a violent show partner and an expensive suit, you wouldn’t want to test his ability to get you fi—”

 “Oh, don’t mind Henry!” Frankie let out a nervous chuckle. “That actually reminds me, shouldn’t you be practicing?” A talk with Henry was required for this to work…

Lucky looked up at him. He could feel the displeasure radiating off him. Lucky reluctantly stood up, leaving his now-empty bowl on the desk.

 “Yeah, yeah…” he muttered and made his way to the entrance of the parkour, “Frankie, er, the monster won’t kill me if I screw up, right?” He quickly asked.

The monster in question looked right at the contestant, thumping at the ground and his ears flattening.

 “Practice all you need, worry free!” Frankie gave him a thumbs up. The monster turned his head and glared at him. He would get to satiate his bloodlust later, he’ll be fine.

The contestant finally stepped out of earshot and Frankie quickly turned to Henry.

 “There are some things the contestant isn’t privy to. I’d highly suggest you watch your tongue.”

 “What?” Henry was appalled, “What doesn’t he know that we, or I do? We know it’s fake, we all do.”

He held the telephone man by the shoulders glaring daggers at him.

 “We know everything that’s going on behind the scenes,” Frankie calmly explained, “Lucky doesn’t.”

Henry stared at him blankly, unmoving.

 “You– You can’t be serious. You’re trying to keep him in the dark about us?” He let out a laugh. This was not a laughing matter.

The monster tilted it’s head watching over them silently.

 “If he thinks we are just like that duck, a robot, and let him believe our performances are real imagine all that could do for his reactions. We wouldn’t need Lucky to act because he thinks your discomfort and Frankie’s mindless violence are real.” Frankie chuckled, “He doesn’t need to know we were hired to pretend! He’s still part of the audience!”

Henry shoved him aside, taking a loud step back.

 “Aw come on, it’s authentic natural acting!” Henry was hired for this show the same way he was. He must’ve been an actor with a degree, fell down with the wrong crowd and ended up here like the rest of them. He knows this would be the most effective method.

 “He’s going to figure it out one way or another!” Henry argued, “I can only put on a performance for so long and you— you weren’t even meant to be one of us. How long do you think you can keep this up?”

He kept pushing and pushing. One of these days he’d step over the line then his acting would be authentic too. But it’d be too quick to assume Henry couldn’t keep his composure, after all, they’ve just met.

Henry might surprise him. He already has. The performance he put on when his head exploded was outstanding. It made him wonder if the higher-ups had threatened him beforehand, he had to hand it to him.

 “As long as I have to,” Frankie assured. He may not be an outstanding actor like Henry but he wasn’t afraid to lie, it won’t be hard.

 “And how long will this lie go on?” Henry sounded…intrigued.

Contestants die all the time. While Henry’s actor may have been the better of current and past actors, he has just as much blood on his hands as Frankie does. It just took a little…convincing.

 “The season finale.” He couldn’t help but smile. The monster let out a quiet, menacing chuckle.

 “If you don’t plan on doing it again, I can keep up the act.” Henry caught on quick. He was frustrating but he understood.

Maybe there was something to directing this group of filthy individuals if they can follow his lead. There’s always a bit of risk. Sometimes, a bit of risk is necessary to keep the company running and everyone employed.

 “Everything changes,” Frankie laughed, “just for one season.”