Archive of Our Own ^beta

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This contains major lore spoilers for forsaken :3 but pls don’t take this as the actual lore, this is filled to the top with my headcanons :)
Also, this is describing what happens in the rounds ^^ chapter one is going to be introductions

Hell. Well, not really, but it just about described the endless suffering and pain that the survivors had to go through. It never ended, not counting the hour breaks that the Spectre had so graciously given them. Then it’d go back to the horrible grind, trying to survive round after round of murders that haunted the players, even in their dreams. Each one of the poor, poor, tortured souls in this realm just couldn’t catch a break. But at least this made great entertainment for the Spectre. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy 007n7 shooting himself after the Spectre totally didn’t take C00lkidd from them, then forsakening him to eternal damnation by his own child...eesh. Or maybe keeping John Doe from seeing his wife properly? Nahh, that seems very okay for the Spectre to do!

Well, what happens…happens, you know. As much as the survivors hate it, they just gotta live with the fact they’re in something that very well could qualify as their own personal hell. I mean, between the 9 killers and what...10 survivors, it’s a grand show. For some, at least. Of course, the killers weren’t always killing...during their break they’d sometimes chill at the shared cabin, following the basic ruleset they somehow found the time to make. It really only had a single simple rule, don’t do anything violent towards each other during break times. And I suppose don’t steal food. Shedletsky seems very passionate about his fried chicken. Speaking of, where does he even get all that chicken? You know what, nevermind...

I guess the ‘entertainment’ for the Spectre deserves some form of introduction, though I wish just saying that all of them are traumatized would work. Sadly. Say hi guys...killers too...
Noob is just your friendly kid. It’s really sad how they were forsaken into this hellhole. Maybe falling off your bike and getting hit by a car isn’t the best thing to do. But other than that, they’re a real good kiddo. I mean, they’re like 23, but a kiddo nonetheless. They’re really friendly during pastime, and they sure do know how to handle themselves running from the killers in the middle of a match. The same question arises, though. Where do these people keep getting the food and drinks? I’m like, 99% sure that the only person who can safely be in the kitchen and not set it or themselves on fire is Elliot, and I’m sure he doesn’t know how to make Bloxy Cola’s, hamburgers, or fried chicken from scratch.

Speaking of Elliot, I’m also not entirely sure how or where he gets that seemingly endless supply of pizza. Or maybe it is endless. You never know... Maybe he took it from the Builders Brothers Pizza Place, when it wasn’t burnt to the ground. But it’s really oh so unlucky that he didn’t survive the fire and ended up getting forsaken. Man, tragic backstories, huh?

007n7, the father himself who played an unfortunate game of Russian Roulette with himself when the Spectre took his son away from him. But sad, depressing past aside, 7n7 used to be a menace for his pre-forsaken friends. I mean, having access to admin commands and an exploit screen as a teenager could not, now or ever, brew well.

Well, someone had to be there to fix all those hacks, glitches, and whatnot that 7n7 caused. And that someone just had to be Shedletsky. Well, when he got forsaken, he kinda had to quit being an admin, and hey, good for 7n7, he doesn’t seem to remember him at all! Other than his...questionable...eating habits (I mean, who only eats fried chicken?!), Shed’s a pretty good guy.

Chance, the gambler. Well, when it comes to backstories, they got the short end of the stick. I mean, coming from a wealthy family has its perks and all, but maybe Lady Luck wasn’t on their side when it came to friends. I mean, Itrapped was interesting, to say the least. Been used for your money then getting stabbed surely can’t be mentally healthy for you. But hey, Chance surely could live through it! Or...maybe not, seeing how that sword stabbed right through his heart and he got Forsaken. But hey, at least the survival cabin has FOUR slot machines to fill that empty void! Am I right or am I right?

Ah, TwoTime, man, they definitely need some therapy. I mean, cults can’t be good news, especially when they ask you to sacrifice your best friend for a gamble to maybe get a second life! And well, seeing how they believed it, went crazy, ended themselves, woke up in the hell-pit with a second life (given by the Spectre, its SOO generous), and proceeded to have their addiction to the Spawn increased tenfold, maybe…just maybe, they might need a little help. (I’m gonna tell you this right now, I did NOT know where I was going with this sentence).

Man, nothing like signing up for war, dying in said war, and dying again and again in another war, that, unlike the last, never ends. Poor Guest, maybe Spectre should give you something other than PSTD attacks every 30 minutes. Wait, it did, silly me! Loving and missing your wife and daughter must suck, even more so when he can’t remember their faces! Man, I’m starting to see a trend between these poor, tortured souls and the fact they all have some shape or form of yumyum trauma!

Dusekkar? Man, poor little pumpkin was on the wrong end of a transformation spell. I don’t think it ever wanted to be alive, in a sense where it could think and talk and cast magic of its own. Welp, sucks for it, welcome to the club.

Well...Builderman’s up next. Actually, his backstory isn’t that entertaining. To the Spectre at least. I suppose getting crushed by a loose steel beam isn’t going to win you any rewards for most tragic backstory here. It’s okay though, with the help of the steel, robotic parts, bullets, wires, etc, that Builderman somehow manages to carry in their nonexistent pockets, he can surely rebuild the slowly dying, rotting, morale of his fellow teammates! I mean, machines surely can solve everything! Including TwoTimes addiction to the Spawn...maybe. I’d pay for him to try, if I’m being honest.

Taph, the mute little kiddo, man, no one really understands them, it’s just a little hard to read emojis (or paratheses in this case). But maybe if that rogue bomb hadn’t gone off in the building it’d still have their vocal chords. Oh well, at least they can still enjoy the food that magically appears. Also, I wonder where they get its bomb materials and tripmine stuff. Probably the same magic pocket that Builderman uses, actually.

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I suppose the killers don’t have it easy either. I mean, Jason is certainly a good example. So, he didn’t have it very good, that’s for sure. (what am I saying) Getting your mother killed by someone, who ended up turning you into a serial killer to find the same dude, getting caught by the police, getting executed by law, then being forsaken and have the Spectre pretend to be your dead mother so that you keep killing? Certainly, seems like a class A tragic backstory to me. Not to mention, none of the survivors -or killers- know if Jason can talk or what. He never does, so I guess maybe not? Oh well, who knows.

C00lkidd, the what, 10-year-old murderous kid that thinks matches are games of tag. What a lovely son, I’m sure 7n7 raised him well...enough. I mean, the day Spectre stops whispering in his ear about how well he’s doing with his current ‘tag’ win-streak and when C00lkidd finally realizes that the survivors he’d been murdering were, in fact, not sleeping, maybe he’ll stop killing. Or maybe not. Poor kid, I guess 7n7 never taught him not to follow strangers or listen to suspicious voices.

Hm, John Doe. What seems to be a perfect marriage, then John Doe has a work-related accident then disappears without a trace, leaving his wife -whom he pampered and loved with all his heart- alone? Was it truly an accident, or maybe something more? Did the Spectre have something to do with it? It really is such a shame that the Spectre doesn’t let him fall in love with Jane again, or see her properly, for that matter.

Speaking of Mrs. Jane Doe, dedicating what easily could be the rest of her life looking for her husband, might just be a waste of time. Between the corruption that John Doe sees and the forced memory-loss...But I suppose she can get her hopes up. No one really knows how she can come and go in the forsaken realm, but she can. The Spectre doesn’t seem to mind, either, so I guess it’s fine.

1x4, man, he also definitely got one of the shorter sticks. Shedletsky maybe should’ve thought a bit harder about what would happen if he created a being for his hatred and frustration. And boy did 1x4 take existing personally. Forget the Spectre, they’re doing this off their own will, purely for revenge.

Noli, 7n7’s old friend! Good to know that 007n7 had lots of connections before he was forsaken, even if most of them were the wrong kind. Noli and 007n7 used to be good buddies, both enjoyed causing a buttload amount of chaos and things of the sort. Man, such a shame they disappeared and got forsaken. Must’ve been awkward when 7n7 saw him again. Eesh.

Azure, TwoTimes cult-mate and maybe lover? He’d never actually felt betrayed when TwoTime stabbed them in the back (literally), and all he truly wanted was to have them back in his life so they can continue being friends. Maybe, just maybe, they knew how dangerous the cult was, yet continued to be in the cult to be with TwoTime. But his best buddy, the Spectre, really can’t have any happiness around here. It might just break out in hives if the players are happy for more than 5 seconds. So, it really is a shame the Spectre made them feel resentment and hatred towards TwoTime. And Azure can’t even speak. They’ve gotta rely on their talking, bad-mouthed hat to do the speaking for him.

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Man, Elliot really hated this place. Everything about it sucked. Teammates that couldn’t stop talking for half a second, and killers endlessly complaining about him doing his job. Not to mention, during matches, he was always the first to die, or get chased down. At least he could make some sort of a friend, or maybe two. Being friendly does that sometimes. But really, the person he most enjoyed talking with was Chance, even with their gambling addiction and all that. Speaking of, Elliot (me included) wondered about just how he managed to convince the Spectre that the survivors needed 4 slot machines.

But nevermind that, he finally had a moment of rest during pastime. Took long enough. Elliot walks into the ‘living room’. If you could call it that, seeing how none of the survivors seemed to be ‘alive’. You know, he immediately regretted that decision, looking over in disgust at 7n7. Of course, he had to be there. Sadly, 7n7 noticed him just before he could slip by. He gave Elliot a guilty look, muttering something that sounded like a ‘hi’. Did he really have to say hi back?

He rolled his eyes, a twinge of disgust present on his face. “Hi.” The tone wasn’t rude, but wasn’t exactly friendly. If only he hadn’t remembered 007n7’s various counts of borderline terrorism, like Shedletsky.

Elliot continued walking, trying his very best to ignore the mildly disappointed face 7n7 was making, seeming like he was saddened by the fact Elliot still hadn’t forgiven him for both burning his workplace down and killing him in the process. (Wow that sentence is long) He was going to sit down in the ‘living room’ to relax for what little time the survivors had left to chill out, but he didn’t want to be anywhere near 7n7, so he had to find another place to chill out and relax. Elliot could probably camp in the dining room, but those chairs were wood and felt like sandpaper had a baby with a cactus. Not to mention the wood itself seemed like it was seconds away from meeting the Spectre itself.

Really, the only nice areas to chill were the ‘living room’ and the private cabins each person got. Sadly, neither of those options seemed good to Elliot right now. To Elliots disappointment, 007n7 felt the need to start up a conversation with him, pulling Elliot out of his thoughts.

“Hey, Ells?-” He started, being interrupted before he could make his point.

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped, not even bothering to sound friendly.

“Right, sorry. Elliot?”

“What do you want from me.”

“I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for-“ 007n7 stated for what could have easily been the millionth time since Elliot woke up.

“Forget it. Sorry won’t cut it.” He responded, a twinge of anger rising in his throat. He walked away without another word, sighing to himself and heading towards his own cabin. I guess 007n7, without meaning to, chose for him.

Heading out the door, Elliot notices TwoTime near their private cabin, doing Spectre-knows-what. God, TwoTime creeped the ever-loving crap outta him. I mean, who kills their best friend for a cult that was so obviously fake??? Urgh, whatever, Ells really just wanted to take a nap or something of the sorts.

Finally, he reaches the door to their cabin, mostly undisturbed. They open the door, shutting it behind him and sliding down it with a sigh. Man, his bed seemed so comfy right now, but he was still in his work uniform. Grumbling, Elliot stood back up (ow, his back) and took off his shirt to change. Err...then Chance barged in. Literally. They should really learn to knock.

“ELLIOT ELLIOT GUESs...oh shIT-“ They yelped, staring at Elliot, with the shirt half over his head.

Elliot blinked. Uhm...was that...Chance?!?! In his cabin?! While he was changing?! Elliots face turned a light shade of Amaranth Red (yes that is a real color, google it-)and he quickly put the shirt back on, giving Chance a stern look. But they weren’t that mad, not at all. (Bro what is that English)

“Do you mIND?” Was all Elliot could manage to say before Chance slammed the door, his face turning a matching color of red. Yikes. It’s gonna be mildly awkward when they next see each other. Just a little awkward.

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‘Holy shittt...’

Chance slammed the door behind him, blinking twice. Oh my Spectre, Elliot was cute. Wait, what? He shook his head, dispelling whatever interesting thoughts lingered in his head. God, maybe they should’ve knocked that one time. But...damn...he didn’t really regret it. Hey, they were just friends, right? Yeah, just friends. Totally. Yup. Friends. (How to tell someone is coping 101)

Face still red, Chance(-y boy) walked back to the shared cabin. He saw TwoTime earlier, when he was walking towards Elliot’s cabin, but now they had gone off to do...whatever...they did during pastime. No one really knew, and Chance had never really bothered to ask. When he reached the cabin, he opened the door -which creaked in protest, seems that even the objects didn’t want to exist anyone- and landed face-first onto the couch, 7n7 looking up, and then looking right back down at his C00lgui. Yeah...007n7 didn’t want to ask about what happened.

As Taph walked into the living room, Chance let out a groan and buried their face into the pillows more. Taph looked over at 7n7, tilting their head in a questioning gesture.

“(What happened to them?)” They signed, glancing over at Chance then back to 7n7.

“No idea, he just came in here and face-planted,” 7n7 replied, looking up from his C00lgui to see what Taph was signing. “But earlier they were heading towards Ells-...ahem, Elliot’s cabin. He seemed pretty excited, too, now that I think about it.”

“(Huh. I wonder that happened?)”

Chance didn’t bother to look up from his...maybe comfy place on the couch. “I can hear ya’, y’know...”

“Right...sorry.”

‘...’

Silence. Seemed like no one wanted to question Chance further, or maybe they just looked too dead inside to be spoken to. The curiosity did simmer just below the surface, unspoken questions left unanswered. Well, they could always just ask, or they could go the long way and ask Elliot. Man, I wonder which option they’ll chose.

“(I’m gonna go ask Elliot.)” Taph signed, and they would sigh, if they could.

“Knock first...” Chance replied sadly, muttering about how they should’ve knocked...or something like that.

And with that, Taph walked off, 007n7 waving to them as they left. Chance buried his face further into the pillow, if that was even possible. His ‘lucky’ coin shimmered in the otherwise depressing light, tails up. I guess even when he isn’t gambling, luck isn’t on his side. As you may or may not be able to tell. 007n7 looked up, a hint of concern etched onto his face.

“So...Chance. What happened? I swear you were excited when you were heading over to Elliot’s cabin...”

“mph..mmMMhbnfjspb...” He muttered, and really, 7n7 couldn’t tell if they were trying to speak or sobbing into their pillow. But he was sure that their cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink. Wait. He’s blushing???

“Uh...good talk?”

“...fibnernbfsd...”

“Great. I understood every word of that.” 007n7 sighs, looking back down at his C00lgui. Man, he missed his kid.

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Taph walks across the desolate walkways -that have definitely seen better days- reading the cabin numbers. It kept walking until they reached Elliots cabin. They knocked...once...twice...then they heard a quiet grumble.

“Come in...”

Taph gently opened the door, discerning the state of their cabin. It was a bit messy, and they could see Elliot’s work uniform- which he most likely just changed out of, thrown into a sad, maybe depressed lump in the corner.

The cabin looked as dead as the other survivors, with only the bare minimum amounts of furniture. The bed was messy, it looked like Ells hadn’t even bothered to make it this morning, the wardrobe looked like it actively wanted to pull a 007n7 stunt, and the carpet was nothing more than a few strands of fabric being held together with deranged hope (that certainly shouldn’t be there), and the bedside desk kinda looked like a dead...desk...standing. Hell, even the lamp looked like it was on its last limb, and it didn’t even have any.

Taph looked over at Elliot, laying on the floor, also face-down. Eesh, he didn’t look to good either.

“(Are you alright? You and Chance both look pretty bad...)” Taph signed, making poor, poor Elliot lift his face up from his position- which could not be comfortable.

“Yup...just dandy.” They responded weakly, giving a thumbs up, that definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’m doing greattt...”

“(It doesn’t seem that way, though. Are you sure?)”

“Chance walked in on me changing.”

“(I’m sure it’l- wait what?)” Taph looked over at Ells with shock written on their face in big, bold, red letters (what am I talking about).

“(Well I’m sur-)” They started to sign out, but an announcement played throughout the cabins, radio-ed by an annoyingly cheerful voice rang out.

“4tt3nt10n surv1v0rs! Th3r3 w1ll b3 4 r0und st4rt1ng...n0w! By33!”

How lovely. Man, every time something important happens, the Spectre is always there to ruin it, with that stupid voice of theirs. Urgh.

Silence. Then, the horrible rush of the survivors being teleported, and Taph was not very glad to know that it still felt like they were dying. God, that sucked so much. Whatever though, they just have to worry about who the killer is.

The intro that played wasn’t familiar at all. First of all, there was a Spawn symbol in the background, along with a field of nightshades? Huh. I feel like they’ve seen something like that before...maybe near TwoTime’s cabin? But that couldn’t be, TwoTime was a survivor! Ah, but the realm was against Taph’s theory, because TwoTime looked up from Azures dead body, and smiled.

“Glory to the Spawn.”

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TwoTime was...the killer? How? What? No way this was real. It must be Noli’s hallucinations. Yeah, that must it. It was juST NOLI...YEAH! HE WASN’T GOING TO LOSE ANOTHER FRIEND...NOT AGain...not...again...

The round started. 4 minutes on the clock. 7n7 didn’t hesitate to check his C00lgui to see the list of survivors. TwoTime was not on that list. Chance, whom 7n7 had spawned with, peeked over his shoulder with the subtilty of a glowstick.

“...Is TwoTime on the list...?” They asked, concern flickering across his face. “I mean...surely they wouldn’t become a killer...that shouldn’t even be possible...right...?”

7n7 stared at his C00lgui. They weren’t there. Only Guest 1337, Elliot, Taph, himself, Chance, and...1x4? Wait what. 1x4 was a survivor?

“I don’t see TwoTime...”

“Oh.” Was all Chance could manage to mutter out, when a slightly crazed voice rang out from behind them. It was TwoTime, and well, they looked fine. Well, just a bit crazier, but that wasn’t anything new. So maybe it was just a trick done by the Spectre...riGHT? IT HAD TO BE.

“TwoTime...you’re not the killer...right...? Please...say you aren’t...” 007n7 asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Ah, but hope isn’t something you should have in this hell-pit. He’ll learn that one day. Maybe.

“The Spawn has willed me to offer more sacrifices, and I shall provide for the Spawn.” TwoTime chuckled, a creepy sound in an otherwise creepier place. “Your sacrifice will not be in vain. May the Spawn lead you to live a more fulfilling life.”

With that, TwoTime grabbed 7n7’s neck in a swift motion, snapping it easily. They watched as the life leave his eyes, before dropping the corpse to the ground, and looking over towards Chance, who stared with wide eyes. I mean, man, they just watched someone die. That can’t be mentally healthy.

“His sacrifice will lead to better things, all in the name of the Spawn.”

“TwoTime, what did you just do?!” Chance screamed, looking over at TwoTime with a face that they had seen oh so many times before. Fear. Terror. Hatred. Nothing new, they were used to it. “That was our friend!!”

“His death ultimately leads to a greater purpose.”

“That nOT HOW IT WORKS!! YOU KILLED THEM, TWOTIME.”

“I’m sorry.” They started, leaning in, closer to chance.

“FOR KILLING OUR-...MY FRIE-”

Chance didn’t get the time to finish his sentence. TwoTime had swiftly pulled out their dagger, plunging it into their heart without hesitation. They pulled it back out, looking down at Chances body as it fell to the ground.

“May Spawn be pleased with your offering.”

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Oh my god. TwoTime was a killer. Every ounce in Guest’s body told him not to believe what the intro implied, but that was some damn good evidence. Either way, it was best to brace for the worst. If he did have to fight with TwoTime, he had to mentally prepare. I don’t think he survive losing another person he knew, especially to something like this...it reminded him of the war too much. But first things first, he had to alert the others, if they were even still alive. From what he saw before being teleported here was that 7n7 and Chance would be here, but he couldn’t tell if any of the others had been teleported here too. He just had to find out by wandering around, I guess. Surely nothing will go wrong.

After a bit of looking around, he came across Elliot and Taph. They didn’t look like they knew what was going on either, though, so Guest couldn’t ask them anything that would warrant him some answers. Sadly.

“Elliot! Taph! I’m so glad you’re safe.” He stated, jogging over to them both. Taph looked over, signing a ‘(hello)’. Elliot just gave a nod of his head.

“(Hello, Guest. Glad to know we aren’t the only ones here.)” They signed, glancing over at Elliot. “(Elliot hasn’t been reacting to the intro very well. TwoTime seemed kinda normal when Elliot last saw them.)”

“Interesting. I guess you guys also don’t know if TwoTime is really the killer or if it was some sort of cruel joke by the Spectre.” Guest said, sighing.

Elliot stayed silent, staring off into the distance. He definitely didn’t seem like they were in the same place -mentally- as Guest or Taph. Man, just what did this guy see? Or better asked, what were they thinking? Taph, probably thinking it was because of the incident from earlier, looked over at Guest.

“(Chance walked into Elliot changing earlier. It might be because of that?)”

“Wait they what?” Guest blinked, concern morphing into bewilderment in an instant. Wow, word does spread fast. Man, I wonder who’s gonna know next? Hmmm...

“Elliot, man, are you okay? Is that why you look like you ate a wasp or something?”

“...” Elliot didn’t say anything, looking at who-knows-what. Dang, maybe they did eat a wasp. Or something like that.

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The Spawn has blessed them with...something. I mean, look at them...?! They seem like they’ve been given some crack...er...maybe they actually were...BUT I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore. I think.
Hmm...I do wonder who TwoTime will go for next. Golly-oh-gee, I sure do hope it’s not gonna be Taph...(Cackles evilly) ...? Foreshadowing? Me? Nah, I would never!
But back to TwoTime! They trudged through the barren pathways, which, just like the ones at the rest-place, looked like they had seen better days. Besides that, the place seemed as normal as it could be. TwoTime couldn’t seem to find anyone, and it appeared they may have to ask the Almighty Spawn for guidance.
As they scanned for any survivors, they wondered if what they were doing was even right. I mean, some of them used to be the closest thing to ‘friends’ they had. But...N0...1t’s 4ll f0r th3 Sp4wn. Y0u n33d t0 r3m3mb3r th4t. 1t’s 4ll f0r th3 Sp4wn, Tw0T1m3. Right. The Spawn was the only friend TwoTime needed. They didn’t need anyone else...
“It’s all for the Spawn...The Spawn knows best...” They muttered, as if to reassure themselves that the thing they had dedicated their life to, killed people for...was real. “Right...?”
TwoTime clasped their hands together, shutting their eyes and praying to...whatever was in charge of this hellhole. Who answered, however, was a different matter. Was their belief crumbling? The foundation of their life, their meaning...it was real...R1ght...? It had to be.
“O’ Great Spawn...I fear I have been led astray...Please help me return myself to you...O' Almighty Spawn...pleASE...”
After a second (or two...) TwoTime unclasped their hands and let them fall to the side. They received no answer to their prayer. They started to explore, looking for anyone...or...anything. Maybe they were looking for something to hint that maybe, just maybe, their faith wasn’t misplaced. (Don’t do cults trust it’s not very peak)
After some time of walking TwoTime stumbled across a clearing where Guest, Taph, and Elliot could be seen. They seemed to be discussing something amongst themselves, and TwoTime could hear little bits and pieces of their conversation.
Guest looked kind of shocked, maybe he saw TwoTime (who totally wasn’t spying on them) from their spot in the bushes? If TwoTime strained their ears enough, they could make out some words from the groups (definitely private) conversation.
“...What?!” Guest exclaimed. It was hard to make out the details of his face (haha blind TwoTime), but to them, it seemed like he was flabbergasted. About what? They didn’t know.
“Elliot...? ...Okay...?” Guest 1337’s face shifted. It looked more concerned or worried.
“(...., .... ........)” Taph signed...something, but TwoTime couldn’t make it out. Poor they/them really needs some glasses.
Dang, they were really curious...I’m sure nothing will go wrong if they move a little closer...right? Yeah, nothing’ll go wrong! (Trust gang)
They shifted forwards, and...OUCHHH their back. It made an audible crack, TwoTime in turn wincing in pain. (Rip man TwoTime’s got that old man back)
They pulled out their dagger from the sheath on their thigh, holding it behind their back. TwoTime held their breath for a moment, waiting to see if Elliot or the others would come over to investigate. “Did ya’ll...that?” TwoTime’s ears perked up (no not like a cat :P) when they heard Elliot speak up. “...Swear...heard something...”
“Yeah, I think I heard something too...?” Guest replied, walking closer to the bush that was hiding TwoTime from view. Uh no, maybe they’re screwed. Just a thought...(I’m so peak)
He reached out for the branches, his fingers grasping the branches and pulling them aside. TwoTime froze in place, one hand behind his back (holding the dagger), and the other one keeping them in a crouched position. (To clear this sentence up, TwoTime is using one hand to hold the dagger behind their back, and the other as a support because they leaned forward to hear more of the conversation ^^) They looked up, smiling nervously at Guest.
“Heyy...” They started, before Guest interrupted them.
“You? Wait a damn minute...YOU?! AREN’T YO-...ahem...TwoTime.”
“Yes...?”
“Are you, or are you not, the killer?”
Maybe...just maybe...they could lie and...and...Tw0T1m3. D1sp3ll th0s3 f00l1sh th0ughts. Gu3st 1337 1s n0t y0ur fr13nd, 4nd h3 n3v3r w1ll b3. D1sp0s3 0f h1m.
Shakily, they pulled out the dagger from behind their back, raising it over their head and bringing it down with a swift motion, aiming for Guests heart. Thankfully, he blocked, raising his hands in defense and knocking TwoTimes sacrificial dagger out of their hands.
In turn, Guest 1337 (Being a war veteran and all that) punched TwoTime (Also known as a ‘parry’ in-game) in the face, knocking them out cold. (Ouch that’s gotta hurt)
1 f33l y0ur f41th f4lt3r1ng, Tw0T1m3.

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Elliot wasn’t very surprised that TwoTime was actually the killer. But what was surprising was the fact Guest didn’t really hesitate to knock them down. It shouldn’t be that easy to punch an old ally.
Taph stood awkwardly to the side, peering over Guest’s shoulder to observe TwoTime...and when Elliot also leaned over to have a look for himself, he noticed Guest 1337’s hand. You know, the one with the dagger in it. Yowch.
“What the hELL?!” They exclaimed, grabbing Guest’s hand and pulling the dagger out.
“Hey- HNGRHSPHDSPF AHHHH WHAT THE FUCKKKK-” He yelped (more like screamed...), flinching (understatement ngl) as the dagger was removed and the wound cleaned and bandaged.
“Dear god, Guest, can you at least try to be more careful?”
“SORry..sorry...But can you just...give me a warning next time...”
“Tch...fine...” Elliot pulled out a pizza slice from their bag, handing it to him. “Eat it this time...I’m watching you.”
“yeah, yeah, I just didn’t want you wasting any pizza slices on me last time...I’m not worth it anyways...” He sighed, grabbing the slice and taking a bite with a thankful nod of their head.
“Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. I have plenty of pizza to share.” They replied, a cheeky smile flashing across his face. (PizzaPunch shippers where?) “But...What are we gonna do with them?”
“Uhh...not sure, actually. I don’t think we can leave them, seeing how they tried to kill me...haha...”
Taph walked over, signing to Guest. “(We could tie them up and question them maybe?)”
They paused, glancing at Elliot and Guest awkwardly, before continuing to sign. “(Er...nevermind...it seems a bit too cruel...)”

Chapter Text

This was STUPID. One moment they were doing some sword practice and the next he gets dragged into a random ASS round, and they’re not even the FU&K!N@ KILLER. Is this what it’s like to be a survivor? Yes? Well. It’s HORRIBLE. They HATED it.
As he paced back and forth, the greatest idea hit them. Uh...literally. Their swords, which earlier seemed like they wouldn’t be spawning with him, fell out of the sky and hit them on the head, then landed on each side of 1x4.
...
1x4 stood there, their face contorted into a scowl. “D4MN- 44RGHH! ...1’m g01ng t0 b34t th3 CR4P 0ut 0f th3 k1l3r f0r th1s!!” He yelled, angerly picking up the dual-blades and walking off to...somewhere.
(Hmph, looks like someone’s having a bad day >:[)