Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Player paced in their home office, a once lively space now filled with an uneasy silence, the memories of sweet love flooded their senses, making them almost double over, tears running down the face that was once cradled and kissed. Player wiped their eyes, which had an almost permanently puffy appearance from all their tears, from daylight to dawn, that’s all they ever did anymore. They were all alone, with no job, no friends, and now, no lovers. 

They looked up at their office bulletin board, filled with the Polaroid faces of their past lovers, smiling with a happiness they knew they could never reach. Something began to stir in Player, making them suddenly feel so queasy. That brought back even more sickening memories, of their sweetest Beverley holding back their hair after a night's worth of drinking, of their dearest Farya rambling about all the things that could be wrong with them.

But they had abandoned them. Every single last one walked right out of that front door, something Player could never do, and left them. They had cried to each one, said how terrified they were to be alone again, and they had all held them and said they would never have to be alone. Now the walls and halls were bare, with a silence so loud that Player hadn’t dared to make a single sound; the silence would always be louder. The silence always plagued Player; it was always there. It had settled in their soul, clawing at them each chance it got. The silence was cruel. The silence wanted them dead. Player screamed with an agony that had always been there, just dormant. This feeling was killing them. What was this? Dorian would’ve known, or Mac- the two would have been over to Player in an instant, but they had selfishly abandoned them, after Player gave them life. This feeling was choking them out, making their vision so hazy. They fell to their knees before the bulletin board, as though kneeling to all those past loves. Suddenly, a voice echoed in their head.

“No one’s coming to save you anymore. Get yourself up.”

Player looked around, but no one was there. Then, they locked eyes with the pictures on the bulletin board, each carefully placed with their signature, and a photo of the once objects smiling brightly, a future ahead of them, while Player was stuck here. What did they all have that Player didn’t?! Player was the very reason they were out in the world now, able to do whatever they wanted. They had freed each object, shown them love, and in return, Player got nothing but humiliation. 

The faces they had once loved looked down upon them, as though Player was nothing but the trash on their feet that not even Cam would claim. Each smile mocked Player. The light in all of the object's eyes mocked Player. The hope, the future, the freedom they all had mocked Player. They had to get out of the office before it killed them. They stood up so quickly it made their whole world spin, quickly trying to find something to hold onto. They grabbed at the bulletin board, ripping down photos as they wobbled and shook. 

They didn’t take the time to clean it up; they ran to the door and jerked it open. It suddenly felt as though there was no air in the house, as though the objects had taken that with them as well. They ran into the living room, falling onto the couch, and even that was painful. Memories kept flashing by, of Koa holding them with his strong arms, back when the silence was relaxing, back when the silence was loving. 

Player scrambled to find the TV remote, Telly.

Player slammed it onto the table with such force, it split part of the wood. Poor Abel. At least those lessons with Kristof and Dunk were proving themselves useful. Those names left a bitter taste in their mouth, like the first time they tried cooking on the stove, but ended up taking a nap. Stefan was probably so pissed off at them, but then again, he was always mad about something. Player was silently glad they hadn’t had the Dateviators at that time. 

“ Maybe this will drown out the silence,” Player thought, as they had many times before. But it never worked. Nothing seemed to ever work out for Player; it was as though the universe had laughed at their very existence since they were born.

Even as a mere child, they always felt like something was… off about them. They hated having their photo taken and opted for being sick every school portrait day. To see what they looked like in the mirror each and every morning almost killed them, especially in their awkward middle school years.

Whenever they left the room, their parents just seemed so much happier without them. It seemed like the world would be happier without them; that’s clearly what those stupid objects had thought. Even Lady Memoria had made a comment on how happy their parents had seemed in a solo photo of the two.

High school was horrible; it was such a blur, and the feeling of never belonging was the only thing that stayed around. They got accepted into Cardboard University, and their parents were just so disappointed. A degree in customer service of all things? People always scoffed at Player when they mentioned it.

They met Sam online, this sweet and honest girl with all these nerdy and geeky interests, just like Player. They had bonded over their love for the anime character Hero-Hime, in which Player turned that character into an object, and she left as well. Then, Sam met Player. The day they left the house for the first time, the day after their last lover walked out on them like they meant nothing. Sam was this cute girl, and one of the first people Player had spoken to in…gosh. Who knows how long. Sam…? Sam was everything Player wasn’t. The ugly feeling was bubbling back in their stomach, creeping up their spine, filling their blood like a slow, venomous poison. Sam was bubbly, adorable, and seemed so…happy. Why wasn’t Player like that? They hadn’t spoken in quite some time. Last they left off, Sam was finishing up some form of schooling. Player had been left to rot. 

Player snapped out of it and looked up at their TV, which they had turned on without knowing. That seemed to be their final straw. On the TV was Tina’s stupid reality show, Love on Triangle Island, and she was being kicked off. She had brought out the full-on crocodile tears, but Player knew they were as fake as she was. She shrilled and fought until they had to drag her away from the cameras physically. Her deep black mascara ran down her face, and she even had a bit of snot coming from her nose. Ew.

Not even twenty minutes had passed, and Player’s phone had begun to buzz like crazy. They were eating away their feelings, nose deep in a tub of ice cream, when it happened. They grabbed their phone and checked it, Tina. 

“Ugh. You saw the trainwreck, right? Yeah, I got kicked off. Shocking. Tragic. Whatever. Anyway, I’m showing up at your place. Clear a spot or don’t, I’ll improvise. Love you, or something. Xx.”

Oh, so now she wanted to visit after her fame crumbled? Figured, they couldn’t say they didn’t expect it, but it was still so annoying, and they would have to deal with that agitating voice, which probably wasn’t even her real voice. And they would probably have to hear her rants about just how mean and bitchy her ex-co-stars were. A thought began to nag at the Player, one that had crossed their mind many times, but with an opportunity right here out in the open? Player knew what they had to do; they just didn’t know if they had the heart to do it, the courage to do it…but Player wasn’t weak.

In that moment, they made up their mind.

They quickly sent a text back to Tina, saying they would clean up the place just for her and that she was very welcome to stay for however long she pleased. Bleh. They went back to the office, still messy from their earlier meltdown. Carefully, they arranged each portrait back on the bulletin board.

They rummaged through their desk, not even bothering to remember all of the names of their past lovers. They found a clean, new red Sharpie. They slowly stepped to the bulletin board. They raised the marker and crossed off Tina’s smug face.

They knew what they had to do in that very moment.

Then, a bang on the door interrupted their thoughts.

Tina.

Chapter Text

Player calmly walked to the door, as if nothing had ever even happened just moments before. They were highly aware of just how red and swollen their face was, but that was the last thing on their mind at the moment. They opened the door, and lo and behold, before them was the Tina Triangle herself. She hadn’t changed, not one bit, since she had abandoned them…no, she was actually quite a bit uglier. She clearly hadn’t looked at her reflection; otherwise, she would’ve been screaming her head off at them already, yelling orders like she was some queen bee.

Her hair was not at all neat; her usually triangular-shaped bangs were unkempt from where the producers had dragged her off the island, and her hairspray had betrayed her. Her snobby face was staring at them, her lips moving, but Player was not listening. Her black mascara ran down her face, smudged around in a way that reminded them of a raccoon. Her golden eyeshadow had wiped off, one eye being much more intense than the other, and her grey lipstick was horrendous; it was smudged all around her mouth like she had taken a Sharpie bath.

Finally, Player came back down, hearing her grating voice, which was like nails on a chalkboard to them. Was…was this how hate feels? Player had never felt this way towards many, but this feeling- it was the same as earliers, bubbling inside and infecting them, making their thoughts hazy and their blood boil up, begging to be relased, like a feral beast trapped in a cage, and which each second longer that they had to look at Tina’s disastrous face, it was only aggaratving the beast, poking it with a stick.

"Okay, no. No. Are you just gonna stand there, slack-jawed like a busted protractor? I’ve been freezin’ my flawless aspects off for ten minutes while you do your best impression of a stunned parallelogram! Say something or step aside, some of us have angles to maintain!" She ranted and raved, staring at Player’s eyebrows, never making eye contact with them.

They sighed and stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. “I didn’t have time to clean, you just came so quickly…you remember where the bathroom is, I assume.” Player commented, gesturing towards the ground-floor bathroom, as Dorian would’ve referred to it as. She cocked her head at him, and usually they would’ve found it at least slightly cute, but now she just had to be playing dumb to get on every last nerve they had.

She seemed to finally take the hint and went into the mirror, looking into her reflection. At that moment, Player heard an overdramatic, shrilly shriek. It was soon followed by “Ohhhh myyy GOOODDNESS! Why didn’t anybody tell me I was all busted up?!”

Player ignored her, which was not the norm for them, not at all. They silently began to tidy up the living room some, while Tina scrubbed at her face from inside the bathroom. Finally, after about twenty whole minutes, she came back out bare-faced and with her hair in its usual form now. Player had to bite back a sigh from escaping them.

She, of course, wanted to watch her show and comment on every single one of her castmates, and so they allowed her to, but they didn’t pay attention to her name-calling, or the rants that she just went on and on about until she had lost her breath, the only thing on their mind was the plan. Were they man enough to do it?

They were. They could do this, they were going to, and nothing would get in their way. No one was going to get in their way. They suddenly stood up, and Tina looked up at them.

“I…am going to the kitchen,” They began to talk, their voice slow and laboured. “If you want me to make you anything, find me in there.” They trailed off, sucking in a breath and walking towards the kitchen. They knew Tina; they knew she would follow, so the plan was now unfolding right before their eyes, and it was unfolding beautifully.

They first walked into the laundry room, shutting the curtains rather roughly and closing the door, then they shut the dining room and kitchen curtains; no one was going to look in, no one would discover this. They washed up some dishes by hand, not humming like they usually would. Finally, Tina bit the hook. She had taken the bait, and they heard the noise of Tina’s black heels hitting the floor, drawing nearer until she was right up on them, breathing down their neck.

“Wait—why’re the curtains closed, sugarplum? You tryna turn into a houseplant that dies in low light? C’mon, open 'em up. Let the sun in. You need it. You’re lookin’ kinda pale lately, and I…I dunno, I just think the light suits you. Makes your edges sparkle more. You know… when you smile in it? It’s kinda unfair to me.” Tina said in that voice, the voice that was like a jackhammer to their brain. She was trying to sweeten them up, trying to drag them back into the living room. Never again.

“I don’t want the curtains open, Tina.” They replied, their voice unusually bland, all of the usual emotion washed out of it. That seemed to surprise Tina.

She looked up at them, eyes analyzing them and their every breath, every movement, like some freakish robot. She was not used to being told the word ‘no’, not at all. “No…? You.. misheard me, you must’ve. I said, Open the curtains. And you’re going to,” She paused, before her face dropped, and Player simply smirked down at her. All according to plan.

“I wasn’t asking. Do I look like I ask? “You don't say no to me. People don’t say no to me. That’s not how this works. That’s not how I work.” She began to snap, to crack up, and crumble down. Player gave her no reaction, that’s what she wanted.

“Oh, so we are playing the silent game now?!” Tina yelled, her face flushing red from anger; she looked like she was about to burst a vessel. Her hand reached out to grab the curtains, and in an instant, Player grasped her wrists with one hand, their hold tightening with each word they then spoke. The other hand held a pan, a heavy one at that.

“This is my house now. You chose to leave; you are a guest. What I say goes, and if you don’t like my rules, then leave. Go back to the precious island you showed your ass on.”

“You’re testing me, honey!” With that, she yanked her wrists free, her body shaking a bit, whether from actual fear or pure adrenaline, they didn’t know. Player’s mind fogged up, going a thousand miles an hour; they couldn’t go back, they had to go through with this. Tina then shoved them against the wall, hard, too. “I’m not here to be your lapdog. I’m the–” Tina didn’t get to finish.

Player raised the pan high and crashed it down on Tina’s head, connecting within an instant. The world stood still. Player didn’t have any control over themself, they gasped. Tina grabbed her head and faked tumbling to the floor, but Player was not feeling sympathetic, not this time.

“Tina, I’m telling you. That was my warning.” Player hissed out, but Tina never got the hint. She kicked her legs out and swept them across the floor, making Player tumble down like she had. Player. Was. Done.

They got on top of her and grabbed her neck, squeezing as tight as they could till she was gasping. “You are just a monster, Tina, you don’t understand, you never will!” Player screamed in her face, letting the adrenaline and hatred take over. Tina’s long, sharp nails went to claw at them; she scratched at their wrists, and they could feel something trickle down their arm, but at that moment, they could feel everything yet nothing, as though they were everything yet nothing at once.

“Don’t you dare fight this, Tina! Everything will be your fault; you did this to me. You are a monster, I will always hate you from the bottom of my heart, from the depths of my soul, I will always hate you-” Their grip got tighter, and Tina’s eyes were getting wider and wider; she was beginning to realize her fate. She went to scream, but Player’s hands grew tighter, their body starting to shake- was it from the anger, or the pure adrenaline whirling through their veins? They couldn’t tell you; all they could say to you was that they wanted Tina dead.

Tina kept scratching, making their arms burn like a thousand hells, but they weren’t stopping, not now, now that the plan had unfolded before their eyes like a pop-up storybook. Not now that they finally got what they had wanted. Tina kept trying to scream, but Player would go tighter and tighter until Tina’s face was pale.

“You ruined me, Tina. Admit it! You are so selfish! You take,” They slammed her head into the kitchen floor. “And TAKE,” Another slam. “And take, and you won’t ever give it back! You won’t give me back my time, my love, my dignity- none of that! You drained it all from me, you and all the rest of your object friends.” Player paused, looking down at Tina, before breaking out in a sadistic glee.

“You know what I’m going to do, Tina? I’m going to hunt down each and every last one of you.” They let go of her neck, looking down on her. Tina gasped for each breath; she had been on the verge of unconsciousness. Then, within an instant. SNAP.

Tina was dead before her head hit the floor. Player had snapped her neck; she was gone. Player put two fingers to her neck, just like Farya had taught them, and waited. No pulse, no breath, nothing. Player had done it, Player had killed someone.

No guilt came; guilt seemed not to even be something that Player was capable of feeling at that very moment. Instead, they felt joy. They felt righteous, they felt alive. They felt a spark they hadn’t felt in so long. What to do with Tina…what to do.

They left Tina there, and she didn’t look like she was sleeping like most corpses; she was still ugly, even in death. They slowly dragged themselves to the garage, a million thoughts in their head, but all were almost silent. Fuck, the silence was back. Why couldn’t it go away?! Why couldn’t Player have one thing in their life? They left so much unsaid to Tina, so many nasty things. No use now. They sighed and began to dig around in their garage. They hadn’t been in here in quite a long time, and the place had a horrific smell to it. Not worse than what the house would smell like if they didn’t get rid of Tina, and fast. They finally found their shovel and a few twenty-five-cent flower seed packs. Player had no form of green thumb, but anything to cover up a body.

It took so much longer than expected; by the time they had finished their ragged hole, the heat of a summer day had turned into a cold, bitter night. They had sweat pouring from their body, and a large pile of dirt and rocks beside them. Shit, Tina was still in the house.

Player’s adrenaline had fully washed away, and they were terrified for whatever was about to greet them. She had been left on the floor of their kitchen, in the blazing heat, for hours. They really needed to turn on their air conditioner at some point.

They took in a deep breath, trying to prepare themselves. They dropped the shovel onto the soft, green grass and stumbled into the house. It was nastier than they expected. The house had a smell to it that they hadn’t smelled before, but it made their knees go so weak and their stomach churn. As they got closer to Tina, it began to reek. They were on the verge of puking, and they didn’t even have that sensitive of a stomach.

Tina didn’t look like Tina was all Player could say. She was bloated and of different colors, and it was incredibly hard to drag her; rigor mortis was no one’s friend. She looked disgusting. The eyes that had once narrowed at them were now so cloudy, her lips were grey and cracking, like unneatly applied lipstick. She was so much heavier when dead; they had never been too much of a health nerd. It was so hard to drag her from there, all the way to the backyard, without slamming her on anything and making more spots to clean up. They threw her in the hole and got to covering her up faster than you could say Tina. They had dug up a shit ton of dirt, so it took a good hour to cover it. They had thrown up on several occasions and even fainted.

Then they had to clean up the mess Tina’s rotting corpse had left behind. Even in death, she still managed to leave a stain on everything. They kept gagging, over and over. To be frank, the gagging was the worst part of it all. They simply grabbed some basic all-purpose bleach from under their laundry room sink cabinets and a washrag and got to scrubbing. They would say what they were cleaning on the floor, but they really didn’t know and didn’t want to know either.

Soon, it was all over. All of that works, the hours of it just for a sliver of freedom. They went upstairs, going to the left into their bedroom. They looked at their tiny, cat-themed digital clock; 1:05 am. Goodness, they needed sleep. They suddenly felt like all the life and energy had been sucked out of them by some energy vampire, or maybe it was just Tina haunting them. She was an energy vampire herself. They got changed into some silk pajamas that Betty had gifted them a while ago…Betty was okay, but she hadn’t visited since. They finally looked into the mirror, and they saw dried blood all down their wrists, which must have been what the dripping was. It was staining their old clothes, which now lay shed onto the floor. Blood must wash out, right?

The silk hung from them loosely, but it reminded them so much of their dearest Betty. Oh, how they missed her oh so dearly. They sat on the bed. Betty had also given them…silk everything. Silk bedsheets, silk pillow cases, it was like she had found silk itself or something. They lay back on the cool bed, their body did not relax, not one bit. They tossed and turned the entire night, hearing Tina over and over. Why was it haunting them? They had done the right thing; Tina deserved to die. Tina hadn’t been an angel; she wasn’t a sweet spirit, a gentle soul… She was suffering, wherever she was.

Player tossed and turned for hours, their eyes beginning to burn from the pure exhaustion running through themself, who knew committing murder was so tiring? They checked the clock again: 2:53 am. They lay there, thinking over everything that had happened to them in the last year. Graduated from Cardboard University, got a job at Valdvian, got FIRED the same day, and was replaced by a literal AI bot. Then they were sent glasses and found all these people just chilling in their houses, then they romanced all one hundred, only for each one to abandon them once they turned human. What the fuck was their life?

The abandonment, the nerve of them all…they got that itch again. Then that itch turned into the sweet, sweet hatred that had infected them just hours ago. They knew who they wanted gone next in a heartbeat. They grabbed the phone, the dried blood still coating their wrists, making it look like something else, totally different had happened.

They picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. They heard it ring once, then twice, and then a soft, tired voice came from the other end of the line.

“Oh—honey? Is everything okay? I mean—it’s kind of early… or late? I wasn’t really... expecting you to call now, but—I’m really glad you did.” Penelope.

Player sucked in a deep breath, ready to fake cry. They let the crocodile tears begin to flow; their voice cracked. “Penelope,” They started, making their voice sound whiny. “I really need you right now. I-I made a big mistake, I know you can help, please.” They pleaded, choking on their false tears. Penelope took the bait, just like Tina had. They could practically hear her instantly perk up and the rustling of Penelope's bed.

“Honey, I’ll be right there. I beg you, don’t do anything stupid…no, no-” The call ended. Player laughed, rising from the bed. They stumbled into the bathroom and threw on some blush to make the crying act a bit more legitimate.

They struggled to go downstairs, their legs shaky for no apparent reason. They sat near the bottom stairs and waited patiently, trying to figure out how exactly all of this would go down. They didn’t think Penelope would fight, like Tina had. Where would they put Penleope?? Tina and the backyard had been far too draining. A soft knock at the door pierced through their thoughts. By the time they reached the door, it was pounding on the front door, echoing through the silent home.

Penelope was there, her face paler than the paper she had once been. Her multicolored black hair was a matted mess; she had taken no time to get decent, and she had been so worried about Player. It was funny to them how everyone ignored them until it was too late. Penelope’s eyes rimmed with glistening tears, threatening to spill down her face. Her pajamas were so nerdy, it almost distracted them from what had to be done. They were fully taken out of it by Penelope grabbing hold of their arms, looking at the bloodied wrists. She gasped softly, immediately running to grab the first aid kit from the ground-floor bathroom. She ushered them to the couch and began attending to the medical needs she knew. They hadn’t opened that first aid kid in years; they weren’t quite sure where they had even grabbed it from.

She was talking to them, asking them all of these questions, but they were zoned off into another universe. They soon interrupted Penelope’s nervous ramble; it would’ve gone on forever if they hadn’t.

“Penelope, do you want to see what I’ve done with the house?” They asked, looking up at her. Penelope’s face stared back at them before nodding slowly. They got up and gestured for her to do the same. They slowly took her around the house, making bitter remarks about how everyone abandoned them with no second thought.

“Please, you have to understand-” Penelope pleaded as they reached the office, not noticing Player lock the door behind them. “We were given this amazing opportunity to become human, to be just like you-”

“You all are nothing like me.” Player’s word cut through hers, their voice cold as ice. “Do not compare me to you all.” Their voice began to crack with barely contained rage. “You all are cruel,” They began to circle the room, shutting the curtains while keeping eye contact with Penelope.

“Player. What are you going to do?” She said slowly, trying to back away. She bumped her head on the bulletin board, turning around and seeing the crossed-out face of Tina. She paused for a minute.

“You all ruined me! Look what you all did to me. I will never be anything like you guys, and you guys will never be like me. You guys have got to go out and live these successful lives, have families, become famous, for crying out loud, and look at me. I have been rotting here, no phone calls, no visits- you all used me!”

“What did you do to Tina?” Penelope said, her voice heavy and filled with suspicion. Player simply stared at her. Penelope took a shaky breath. “None of us meant to hurt you, and I’m sorry if we did, but what did you do to Tina.”

“You don’t need to know, Penelope. You’re upsetting me with all of these questions. Why are you fighting this?” Player barked, grabbing a calligraphy pen. Penelope looked down, the metal of the pen gleaming in the little moonlight that tried to shine in the cracks of the curtains. They broke it to where it was simply sharper, more… efficient.

Player began to walk towards Penelope, and she simply froze up. They put the pen beneath her jaw, the metal fitting her pale skin beautifully. It blended in so perfectly. She gasped.

“You wouldn’t hurt me with that, would you? I-I don’t think that could do any damage, so theoretically speaking-”

“Theoretically speaking, if you want to live a second longer, then you should just shut up!” Player yelled, shoving the pen closer to Penelope’s throat, who gulped nervously.

“I am just saying, you don’t have to do this, please. We can-” Penelope paused, her face contorting…into anger? What? “No!” Penelope yelled, shoving Player off of her, and Player had not expected that. They fell back onto the desk behind them, narrowly missing the computer. They looked up at Penelope, who stood over them menacingly.

“Tina was your first and last. I am not going to die like this! I won’t let you do this!” Penelope screamed, running around the desk, trying to find something to defend herself with. Player was up in a minute, the addictive feeling of adrenaline pumping through their veins.

“I told you not to fight this, you stupid girl! I told you to be quiet, and I might let you go-” Player growled.

“Do you think I am that stupid?! I was literally office supplies, I know more than I let on! I knew from the moment I figured out Tina was dead that you were going to kill me,” Penelope pointed towards Player’s wrists, which were carefully bandaged now. “And that! Tina did that when defending herself from you, you monster. Tell me, tell me what you did to Tina!” Penelope cried out, her body beginning to panic. She was going to die. There was no way out in her eyes.

Player wasn’t going to take that. Player was on top of her in seconds, similarly to how they had been with Tina just hours before. “You stupid-stupid girl! I would’ve allowed you to have a quick, painless death- you had been nice to me, but then you just had to open your mouth, now you- you’ll regret this!” They were stuttering and mixing up their words, as if they were giving a school presentation. They couldn’t get their thoughts straight; every time they spoke, it was like a load of word vomit spewing out of their mouth. They were shaking like the temperature had suddenly dropped, but it had not.

Penelope looked up at them, her face a deathly pale that even white-out couldn’t rival. Her eyes were wide with something more than fear; it…it was acceptance. Penelope looked up at them and let her body ever so slightly untense.

“Kill me.” She choked out, her voice so tiny…what? “Kill me, I know it’s coming. I-I mean, I always knew, when-when I saw Tina’s face crossed out and the bloody cloths in the trashcan, you were going to kill me. So do it. I know you can’t.” Player tensed up, their glare darkening. What did she think she was doing? “You’re upset with us, you’re taking it out on us in this sick, demented way.” She continued, her body fully relaxed underneath them.”You want to see us in pain, because you are in pain.”

That just pissed off the Player more; they felt like they were being babied, as if they were being underestimated. They could kill Penelope; they could kill anyone they wanted. They tightened their near-death grip on the destroyed pen, and they began to lift it far above their head, preparing to strike.

“Stop trying to fucking analyze me, Penelope! You are acting like you’re the mysterious main character, when you couldn’t even make a date work until you met ME.”

Penelope’s eyes went as wide as they could, and she went to let out a bloodcurdling scream. The blade had gashed her throat before she could even suck in her breath. She coughed and sputtered, and Player sliced at her throat again…then again. Each time more rougher. By the time Penelope had gone limp, they had apparently hit an artery, as blood had begun to squirt up and spew all over them, making them feel like a human tampon. They coughed, ew, some got in their mouth. They looked down on themselves, bloodied up, along with the floor.

They slowly managed to get up, their legs asleep from the awkward position they had been in. Ouch, they felt like Penelope- limp and dead. They felt horrible and ached for a shower, but they didn’t want Penelope’s body to become anything like what Tina’s had. They grabbed Penelope by her curls and threw her in the crawlspace. That was for a later plan. They quickly showered and threw the bloodied pajamas in the washing machine. Ugh, who knew being covered in blood would be such a horrible feeling? They brought out their mop and began to mop up where Penelope had once been laid. They really hated this whole cleaning-up process, but they also really disliked going to prison or even death row, so clean up they shall.

They dipped their finger into some of the blood they had yet to clean up and quietly made their way to the bulletin board, eyes searching it before Penelope’s soft smile came into view. They traced a bold, messy X over Penelope’s face. Two down.

They finished their dreaded cleanup and dragged themselves back to bed, and got dressed once more. They glanced at the clock, 3:00 AM. The witches' hour, as many loved to call it. They had done this just an hour or so ago, and with one less body (not that kind, you freak) to their name.

Once more, they couldn’t sleep. It was a mix of Tina and Penelope’s final words swirling inside their mind, driving them crazy. What if they were just a bad person? Then again…once, Dorian had told them that bad people don’t worry about being a bad person; they just do so without a care in the world for how others thought of them. Their mother had told them the same thing when they were a young child, so maybe they were right. Player wasn’t a bad person. It was like two voices arguing inside their head, like an angel and a devil on their shoulders. One cried out, “They deserved it! We simply want revenge, it’s in our human nature!” while the other gasped, “They were human too! It isn’t their fault, no human deserves to die!”

Gosh, with two voices in your head and two girls you just murdered, it kind of feels like a lobotomy would be lovely at the moment. The silence couldn’t even penetrate this storm inside their head; it…it felt like they were back within the old house, with all the ones they loved.

It felt like they could hear Curt snoring while Rod listened in for anything embarrassing that he could tease Curt about when he awoke. It felt like at any given moment, Betty would come back to bed and hold them like they were the most beautiful person in the world. They fell asleep, peaceful for once.