A/N: For liozengie I hope you are entertained!

UPDATE: THE PICTURE ABOVE IS FROM badpinkuplines who is the best fucking thing in the whole world. LITERALLY THIS IS AWESOME AND I WANT TO STARE AT IT FOREVER, HOW ARE YOU SO FUCKING TALENTED?! AND WHAT GOOD DEED DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS AWESOMENESS?! THANK YOU FOR DRAWING FOR THIS STORY!

Now, disclaimer: THIS IS ALL HECKING BULLSHIT!
MORE IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: THE END WILL DESCRIBE SUICIDE. I HAVE NO IDEA HOW GRAPHIC IT ACTUALLY IS, SO I WARN YOU HERE!
I just had a lot of fun chatting with Lizzy and the next thing I knew we both were planning out this story. Has elements of Doki Doki Literature Club! (duh.)
Don't take this too serious, the versions of the characters will also be different from the versions I usually use... Sarcastic Old Sport ahead! Somewhat-remotely-human Henry ahead!
Okay, okay, get ready for total clusterfuck. Contains parts of my "A Guard's life" headcanon! Except of course Henry and OS.
-> Honestly, you'd be better off not reading this at this point <-
ENJOY!

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Orange Guy dragged himself forward, his mind filled with dread. How long does this had to go on now?!
He had denied every offer those people gave him, only helping out to free the children. That was the only job he was on this godforsaken earth for and it would be the only thing he would still do before leaving.
He hadn't expected Dave showing up with a gun though and Toy Freddy to maul him right on the spot...
Shortly he considered feeling bad for that weird eggplant, after all it had been quite some time since the last person cried because of him. (Not counting any amount of terrified toddlers, children aren't people.)
But he came quickly back to his senses when he reminded himself that he was thinking about a fucking psychopath and he immediately returned to being generally gloomy. Now that Phone Guy was taken back to the factory, all employees were in some weird sort of limbo, where they were forced to daily return to the empty restaurant.
WHY THOUGH?
Apparently because why the fuck not. If there was a void, he would be glad to be there for all eternity. Please, please, bring me to the void Fredbear, at this point nothing is worth anything.
But this day was different.
This day the void heard him.
This day the void G R I N N E D.
Black smile, empty eyes.
"You are welcome."
All colors were sucked out of the reality, followed by the air and every thought he ever had.
For a few second nothing happened, but afterwards it was screaming, blue, red, yellow, moving, unmoving, 0010111010101 =true if - - -
He woke up in his own bedroom, screaming as loud as his lungs would allow. The cold sweat was making his clothes stick to his body, creating one of the most unpleasant sensation a human could wake up to, next to having a stranger in your bed and having all your teeth pulled out. Neither of those he ever actually experienced.
But waking up in cold sweat was far too common for his taste. He thought he was over with this by now.
It would only get worse after this. Today was NOT his day.
After a quick drag under the shower and continuous bashing of his face against the wall, he managed to walk out of the door with the plastered on smile he wasn't even feeling anymore.
It could be bearable today. Somehow his neighborhood look brighter than usual, giving off the vibe that there was maybe hope somewhere around here and if that only consisted in stealing from the salad bar, it was still better than nothing.
Deep breaths, Old Sport—ah, there he goes calling himself that stupid name again. ARGH.
And back it was down into the hell that was his bloody life. Wait, what was that?!
Had his vision just... twitched?
"OOOOOOOOOLD SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORT!"
He turned around to spot an annoying guy running towards him, flailing his arms around like an idiot. That was... h-his boss, right? Yes... his boss.
"Haha, you waited for me! Thank god... I always feel like sh—crap when you just walk away." Out of breath the Phone-headed man held his stomach, before laughing awkwardly again. "Are you ready to go?"
"Go where?" Irritated he tilted his head, this was certainly not the supposed routine.
"To school?" Phone Guy tilted his head.
"Wait, WHAT?"
He snickered, shaking his head. "Did you hit your head again while falling out of bed?"
"Well, I hit my head, but that was on purpose..." Disturbed Orange Guy checked first the person in front of him, then himself.
"But you do remember my name, right?"
Laughing without any humor, Old Sport shook his head. "Do you remember mine?"
"That's not funny! You know I have some problems..." They stared in silence at each other, until Phoney finally broke down. "It's me, Simon! Your childhood friend, which you keep criticize. Now, would you mind giving me your name again? And please not a wrong one like you usually do..."
"Huh? How would you know that?"
"You're horrible, Old Sport..." Grumbling PG crossed his arms. "Now get moving, I don't want to be late!"
"Then why aren't you walking?"
"Because... I-I... uh... It's pretty rude to leave you behind!"
Now, there was DEFINITELY something off. Where the hell WAS he?
They left towards school, but were separated due to classes. It was very weird to sit in a school... really... it wasn't the right surrounding for him...
Class ended.
Wait, how?! This were literally just a few seconds, how-
"Old Sport!" There was the Phone Guy called Simon again. Great. "See what I found!"
He waved a piece of paper in front of his eyes, incredibly excited. Once Orange Guy managed to snatch it away he could see why.
It was a crudely drawn picture of an orange smudge and a smudge with a red head. Above it was written something along the lines of "I'm sorry I pushed you in front of a car, I'll do whatever you want to make it up to you".
Well, that was a plot contrivance if he ever seen one...
"You promised!" Phone Guy was again whining. "I found it again, I get to have my wish, right? It was the deal to not tell your parents, since they would force you to go to therapy if I did."
"Oookay...?" Man, he wasn't that much of a psycho, was he? "What do you want?"
"JOIN MY CLUB! PLEASE?!" Jumping around nervously, Simon watched him. "You don't have a club anyway, so..."
"Joining a club...?" Why was this appearing so... clichéd? Clichéd in what way, actually? "Which club?"
"You bashed your head pretty hard, I see... well, Matt opened a club and-"
"Matt?!"
"Yes. Matt. You know, the most popular guy in our school? With the dazzlingly smile? Fit, determined and all in all an awesome person!"
"Excuse me, WHAT?"
"Yes, right?! I didn't believe it either when he said he wanted to start his own club, but I'm SO happy I was the first to join! Vice president!"
Deeply disturbed Orange Guy asked himself where the hell this was going. Nowhere good, obviously. "So... and you want me to join that club?"
"YES. Let's go!"
And already he got dragged away towards his inevitable end. What kind of club would that be? Virginity club? He would most certainly get infected once he joined that place.
Maybe that was why Phone Guy acts so castrated!
Oh god, was that his future?
They entered another classroom in this endless sea of copy-pasted rooms and Phone Guy cheerfully greeted the people inside. "Hello, hello everyone! I brought a new member!"
"Fucking seriously? Another cunt joins the club?" A guy sitting in the corner groaned, everything about him screamed aggression. "Could you go and fucking kill yourself for that one?!"
Simon laughed, a bit taken aback. "Yeah... that one is Mike. He's just acting all tough, the truth is he can't look away if someone needs help!"
"I'd throw you out of a window if someone would offer me a snickers for it."
"Hey, Mikey, I've got a snickers, right here~" Old Sport was pretty shocked to hear Dave's voice again. So... he was in this weird dimension as well?
"As if I ever would accept anything you have fucking touched. No, leave me the fuck alone."
Helpful as ever, Phone Guy introduced the Purple Guy. "That is Dave! He's... special."
"Yup, a very special snowflake!" Dave smiled towards him, or rather grinned like a maniac. "I'm sure we'll get along juuuust fine..."
Did Dave remember him?!
"Welcome to the club of virgins! The prize to join? Ya soul! The perks? Uh... we have great tea? You like Oolong?"
Oh, never mind. The guy had no idea.
Finally he turned around to see Matt standing right behind him, almost making his heart stop. The smile was slowly burn away any sort of reasonable thought, only the deep desire to run away remained.
"Oh hi, Orange Man." Casually he had his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in an uncomfortable way. "Glad to see you finally joined the party."
"Uh... yeah..." Truthfully, Old Sport had no idea what to say. This was just... bad... "Likewise. So what's your club about?"
"About many things..."
Christ.
"... but for some reason everyone here had picked up literature."
Phone Guy laughed. "What are you talking about? You made this club, you should know best! Well, literature is really a great hobby, which we connect with many things! Mike likes ghost for example!"
"What the fuck are you talking about, you stupid piece of-"
"Dave likes murder and robots! And I... I just really like expressing myself!"
Everyone stared at him, obviously just thinking about how much of a loser that guy was.
It got awkward quite quickly in here. Mike was the first one to break the silence. "As long as you keep the fuck away from me, we'll get along."
"I'd love to show ya some machines I'm working on!" Dave winked in his general direction, activating all sorts of alarms.
"I can't wait to spend every day with you like this!" Simon was the only one who sounded actually somewhat happy about this situation.
Matt was still staring him down and sincerely, Old Sport didn't want to know what the man was thinking. "Orange Man, will you join this club?"
Who could say no to that apathetic voice, right? But he had promised after all. "Ah... not really, but I guess I have no choice. I'll join the insanity club!"
No one reacted in any meaningful way, making this whole endeavor pretty pointless. Everyone was busy one way or another, except Matt who WOULDN'T STOP STARING AT HIM WITH THAT GODFORSAKEN SMILE.
It took a few minutes until he broke. "What do you want, Matt?!"
"Orange Guy... are you... you know?"
"Am I what?"
But before they could continue, Simon suddenly grabbed his arm. "Old Sport! Club is over, let's go home together! Like in the good old days!"
"This has been ten minutes at most-"
"Bye everyone!"
Did that man ignore him on purpose?!
"Old Sport, since you're now part of the club, you'll have to write a poem for tomorrow! Haha, I'm curious what you'll write about..." His voice was weirdly out of tune. As if he wasn't sure what he was saying. As if he was saying something he didn't really planned on saying.
"What if I don't write a poem at all?"
"Then Matt is going to be VERY disappointed in you."
Oh dear god, no!
"Okay, I understood... I think."
"What do you think of the place? Pretty neat, eh? Don't worry, the others will quickly warm up to you and then it will be like a second home to you!"
"I fear the same..."
Weirdly glancing at him, Phone Guy shook his head. "See you tomorrow!"
They separated once more in front of their respective houses and Orange Guy was left feeling bothered by the reality itself.
Someone was snickering.
He could swear he just heard it.
Grudgingly he sat down in front of the desk, thinking about what kind of poem he wanted to write.
Well... maybe it wasn't all THAT bad... he had written a few haikus before! Those counted as literature, right?
Now he would have nothing to do, but----
When he reopened his eyes, he could swear he was on drugs. He was still sitting in front of the table again, an open notebook laying on it, with about ten or so words on it. Next to it were small... avatars... cutouts... of the others?
Except Matt, thankfully.
Now it clicked and anger began boiling in Orange Guy's guts. Not even here they would accept his haikus and "here" wasn't even real!
HE WAS STUCK IN A DATING SIM.
Very funny! Hilarious even.
No, no thanks, he was not ready to be part of this game!
Wait... game?
Games had... files, right?
Moving away from the desk, the whole world around him had fallen apart, as he was not supposed to be here. This made it fairly easy to spot a folder in the distance called "characters"
Oh, heck yeah! This was the answer to all of his pleas!
NOW HE COULD FINALLY K I L L HIMSELF!
- Access to folder granted. File opened: Characters -
Four files were inside... Mike.chr, Simon.chr, Dave.chr and Matt.chr.
Where was his?
Apparently nowhere! But no worries, he could try...
- Created file: OrangeGuy.chr. -
And now, the grand finale! Oh, please, he hoped this worked...
- Delete file: OrangeGuy.chr -
- OrangeGuy.chr successfully deleted –

The void. An empty place filled with empty thoughts, echoing empty feelings for the empty creatures so unfortunate to end up here.
Really though, it depended on what kind of creature you were how much you would hate the void.
It was peaceful... and it was... the end.
Finally.
Only dreams.
Except...
"I need to applaud you, boy. You are smarter then you let on, smarter than I first anticipated you to be." A short, cold applause was audible. "It is weird, is it not? Despite being caged in the nothingness, we possess the ability to clap, not to mention to talk. That would indicate that the void is not empty, yet that makes its name utterly incorrect. A shame how the most foolish people get to name the most fascinating places."
"Could you shut up? I'm enjoying being dead and you're kinda ruining it."
"Oh. Not that sharp after all. A shame... I was looking forward to this conversation. Especially after you ruined my project, Jack."
"Who gave you that name?!"
"I would appreciate an apology."
Standing up from the nothing that was the ground, Orange Guy was getting aggressive. Not even the void offered him any peace. "For what?! Huh? You laughed your ASS of when I died, this is basically all your fault!"
"You remember me?"
"IT'S A LITTLE HARD TO FORGET THAT PINK DUDE CARRING A CORPSE WHILE YOU SIT AROUND IN A SPRINGLOCKED SUIT!"
"People tend to suppress memories they despise."
"Oh, I don't despise them, I enjoy remembering them since it gives me a reason to fuck your place over whenever I'm ready to give up."
"You motivation to destroy brought you far. Far enough to anger me."
"Ooooh, Peach Man is angry! Better go cry! He could... do... something to me! Actually nothing at all, since we're in a void, but be scared anyway!"
For a moment the Pink Guy stared at him, expressionless. "I have personally built the game you deleted yourself from. While inside of the void, you have time to consider the most different concepts to pass the time needed to free yourself."
"Wait, you could free yourself? No, you can't. If you could you probably would've done it already, right? You're talking out of your ass. Also, stop sounding like an edgy teen and use some normal words, kay?"
"I am currently using the English language, your complaints are nonsensical."
"All I want is to be dead. Go away Peach Man."
"Your apology."
"Suck my-"
"We have another option... no, not option, I will tell you what you will do to pay me back. You will return into the game."
"Ha! Try to make me!"
"I have created another reality out of the darkness and dust clustering the corners of this lack of a world. The creatures of the void fear and envy me and my abilities. There is nothing I cannot create, as where is nothing, there is everything-"
"I'LL GO BACK, JUST SHUT UP! PLEASE! THIS IS WORSE!"
Coughing slightly insulted, Henry raised an eyebrow. "You had no choice either way, but I acknowledge your wish to hurry the process."
He summoned some sort of screen and began typing in a few commands.
- Character reintroduction into the story... loading last save... -
"You will most certainly be... entertained by the world I have created." Smugly, the man made the screen disappear and smiled his black smile.
- Error! Two character options spotted! Introducing new character to setting... -
Orange Guy watched that message, with some sort of amusement. Apparently the maniac didn't noticed everything.
- Characters introduced to setting. MC recognized, last save loaded. Starting up program... -
Henry had finally noticed the messages and almost lost his face. "Wait, no, terminate program! Do NOT activate-"

Orange Guy reopened his eyes, sitting at the screwed mini-game again. No haikus here, no happy times in general. The only thing giving him some sort of grim glee, was the new paper cutout next tothe page. It was a small Henry, watching him with black eyes.
Was the man able to see all of this as well?
Ah, the words have mixed up! Could he... actually...?
Curiously, he wrote down the word murder, which made the small Dave on the side jump happy.
Okay, okay, this was a dating sim and this was probably the selection screen.
And that piece of shit asshole at fault for this situation was right there as a paper cutout.
That could only mean one thing!
What kind of words would HAVE to appeal to the psychopath?
Here it goes... write down the word Genius!
The cutout did jump, even if just a little and without changing his expression. Figures that that narcissist would like those words.
One poem later, he spaced out again and woke up standing on front of the club. Henry greeted him by pushing him aside, a dangerous hint of a glint in his eyes. "Delete me."
"No."
"What could possible motivate you to this action?!"
"SPITE. Now play nice, the other members of the club are looking weird at you."
Slowly stepping back, Henry returned to his table, where he was working on some sort of machinery together with Dave, looking more annoyed that usual.
Simon walked over, tilting his head. "Are you alright? That was Henry, he wasn't here yesterday... but usually he's a very interesting person to talk to! I don't know what this just was about... what did he say to you? Do you guys know each other?"
"Not... really... but I would LOVE to get to know him better!" The last part he said far louder than needed, drenching it in sarcasm.
"Yeah... Henry has that sort of effect on people, haha. Did you write a poem yesterday?"
"Yep and I think it came out pretty well! I literally just wrote down random words, not even pretending to write a poem."
"U-uh... you're funny." Simon wasn't sure how to deal with him obviously. After all, the script was not prepared for this occurrence.
Matt walked in, his presence immediately getting Old Sport to tense up. He tried to catch a glance of Henry, in hopes to find any sort of answer why the hell MATT of all people was in this place, yet was skillfully ignored by said man.
In the end, Henry was the incarnation of the devil, so putting Matt into charge of the club was actually a reasonable decision. Sighing he faced his creepy ex-co-worker, doing his best not to jump out of the window.
"Hey Orange Guy. Great to see you back here."
"I hate it here... it's too... school-y"
"YES."
Backing away, he asked himself why Henry created this place. What was wrong with that man?!
A minute or so passed without anything else happening. Relaxing somewhat, he checked on the other club members.
Mike was writing something down, maybe the poem he was supposed to write for today, Phone Guy went up to talk to Matt about something... festival related? (O h , N o) and Dave was sitting with his old partner, building a small machine.
"Yo, Henry, I really don't understand what you want to use this thing for..."
"William, you do not always have to understand to be useful."
Wew, that was a little harsh.
Orange Guy joined them, admittedly curious what he was planning. "Trying to get away already?"
"I am... Jack, I have work to do. I prefer to spend my time scouting the void for any weaknesses, instead of being pushed around by a foreign program manipulating my internal structure."
"Oho, the great Henry can't fight back against his own game program?! How stupid!"
"There is no scenario in this reality where I have to force myself to listen to your babbling."
"Well, the scenario in which I want to spend time with you? I picked you at the poem-game, there's one event bound to happen to get us closer together!"
"You disgust me."
"Likewise."
Dave hadn't noticed any of this conversation, probably because he wasn't scripted to react to this. Busy connecting robot parts, he shortly glance up at them, just to suddenly fully look up and smile brightly at Orange Guy. "Old Sport! I haven't noticed you there! Wanna help us build something?"
"Isn't this a literature club?"
"Well... Henry is extra special. Also, Matt doesn't mind it, as long as we have our poems ready! But... even if you're not interested in machines, how about I make some tea and tell you a few fun facts? For example, fun fact: You walk past a murderer at least three times a day!"
Henry groaned. "Misinformation. Statistically it is highly likely that one would walk past a murderer three times in their life. Now, if you would be so kind to do the math, murderers are people too, with jobs, friends, mostly even with a family, who would walk past him every day, multiple times. The generalization is not only gross, but also mindless in every way possible."
Dave coughed. "Henry... if you had listened, I didn't say that ONE walks past a murderer three times a day, I said that he walks past a murderer three times a day."
"Hm. Still somewhat inaccurate."
Sighing, Purple Guy smiled somewhat tiredly at Old Sport. "It's always the same with him... Imma get us a nice cup of tea! Don't let him tear you down, Sportsy!"
They watched him skip away, Henry's body tensing up. "The program is conspiring to get us alone. Excuse me while I step away from this sort of manipulation meant for puppets."
- Error! Script malfunction! Retrace script, line 168 -
Shortly, everything bugged out and they sat together, closely to each other in front of a small spider robot.
Henry paused for a second. "Did the game just delete my previous work?"
"Yep!" Grinning Old Sport leaned over to him, provoking an immediate reaction out of the Pink Guy, which consisted in standing up and bringing distance between them.
"Aww... are you feeling weird sitting around me~?"
"I admit, I feel SICK around you. So yes, please keep your distance."
"Don't you think I also would much rather cut your head off and keep it in my freezer to regularly take it out and use it as a playball? Get over yourself."
"If your words are truthful, then why do you pester me to this amount?!"
"Because that's the way I can make your life hell."
"I regret not finishing you off when I had the chance."
"Same here."
Matt interrupted their aggressive staring contest. "Okay everyone, I hope you prepared your offerings- I mean poems. Bring your poems over here. You can read them to each other or whatever before, I don't care."
Everyone stood up, except Old Sport who wasn't entirely sure about what to do. Thankfully Phone Guy approached him, his sheet of paper crumbled up in his hands. The poor guy was pretty nervous.
"Want to share poems with me?"
"Eh, sure, why not." He handed him over his paper with those random words and Phoney froze up for a second. After that passed, he handed it back. "It's...cool! Not really my style, it's pretty... complicated, I'd say? But great anyway!"
"Yeah? You think so?"
"Yup! Want to read mine now?"
He accepted the paper and read through it. Thankfully, it wasn't all that long.

"Daylight"
When the morning knocks onto my door,
I pick the smile off of the floor.
I put it back in place and say:
There never was another way.
If I keep them happy, I keep them secure,
this is why I have to endure.
When the morning knocks onto my door,
the weight of life hits me to the core.
I greet my best friend and say:
let us at least try to enjoy this day. 

Wordless Orange Guy stared down at the poem. "Translation: I'm cripplingly depressed?"
"AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"
"Man, it's obvious, do you-"
"I GOT TO GO NOW, THANKS FOR SHARING POEMS!"
Oh, whoop-de-doo! Not like he would be the only one with crippling depression. In this place, you either had crippling depression or daddy-issues.
Speaking of Daddy-issues, Dave was approaching! His poem was almost appearing well-written, but after he came closer, he could spot that it was basically unreadable. Great.
"Here ya go, Sportsy!"

Something-something-breathing metal-something-something-souls in cages-something-something- death and life-something-something.

"What'cha think? I based it on my favorite game!"
"Favorite game...?" He didn't know Dave enjoyed playing games. "What is its name?"
"It's called Dayshift at Freddy's! It's hilarious! We should play it sometimes together!"
"Dayshift..." Wait, what?!
"Believe me, it sounds like nothing, but it is GOOD!"
"Uh... I'll... try? Someday?"
"Great! Now show me your poem!" Without hesitation he snatched away the paper and read through it, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well, well, well... doesn't that sound like Henry..."
Dismissive he returned the paper. "Be careful, alright? Henry isn't one to...play nice with imposters. Even if it's just admiration."
"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind." Orange Guy stretched his arms, not actually concerned.
Dave shot him one last glance, before leaving him on his own.
Mike came over, aggressively taking a look at the poem Dave had just put onto the table. "Well, if that isn't a huge piece of shit. Literally, you sound like a cunt with that one. Also, your handwriting is terrible! All in all a total failure of a poem, fix that shit ASAP when you're back home.
"And what about yours? Didn't you write it just now?"
"Take a look if you're so fucking curious."
So he did!

"Question"
Roses are red,
violets are blue,
I don't want to finish this poem.
Do you?

That's a bunch of bullshit. "THIS is your poem?!"
"Yeah it is! You probably think it's just lazy, BUT IT'S NOT! It's actually totally deep!"
"Excuse me?"
"Let me explain it to a fucking noob like you: This poem takes explicit advantage of the readers knowledge of simple poems, to make them overlook the deep message behind this poem. The lyrical I is an undetermined character, who doesn't want to finish the task ahead of him, either due to lack of motivation, insecurity or due to his inability to let go of things. The last question shows of the deep desire for connection the lyrical I feels. The person is insecure about themselves and asks for help, even if the lyrical I doesn't want to admit it and hides it behind an almost sarcastic, challenging question."
"O...kay... what would Matt do to you if he found out you didn't put any effort?"
"I PUT IN EFFORT."
"I get it... I get it... I wouldn't want to trigger Matt either."
Embarrassed Mike turned away. "Good to see you understand at least something... also, poems are more about intend than what comes out... and when many people say a poem is deep, it suddenly turns deep, even if the author didn't mean anything!"
Huh, he blushed quickly. Somewhat sweet. If there wasn't the constant danger of being bashed in by a baseball bat around him, he'd consider hanging out with him for a few minutes. "Thanks for sharing! I'll keep your deep interpretation in mind when I next time read your stuff!"
Last, but not least he strolled over towards Henry, who was appearing bored beyond belief. Despite that, something in his body language changed and he was almost appearing alerted.
Haha, how funny he looked...
"So, HNRY, did you wrote your poem?"
"HNRY? And why yes, of course I have a poem. Writing a poem is as easy for me as anything else. I am sure it is on par with your creation."
It was a long list with words, surprisingly similar to what Old Sport has written. Death-despair-disappear-delay-rot-rage-run-ruff-pain-persecution-perepetuating-paranioa.
"Beautiful. I'm feeling myself fall for you, Henry." Those words were dripping with poisonous sarcasm. "Didn't expect you to be able to express yourself so masterfully!"
"I can express myself perfectly well, yet you are not worth any of the effort it could cost me."
"Welp, if it satisfies Matt, I will not complain... but if it doesn't, then I can't wait to see what horrifying thing will happen to you!" Actually motivated Orange Guy smiled.
Speaking of the molester, Matt stepped towards them. "Can I have your poems now?"
Neither of them said a word as they handed them over and watched slightly horrified as Matt's eyes began glowing and he absorbed something from off Henry's poem. As he tried to do the same to Orange Guy's though, nothing happened.
"T h e r e i s n o s o u l i n t h i s p o e m"
"I have no soul, joke's on you!"
His eyes stopped with the glow and he ripped it apart. "Figures. Good job anyway, you two. I'm watching you closely."
Henry didn't show any kind of expression, while Old Sport was shuddering.
"Now, everyone come towards the front, we have to discuss festival stuff."
Everyone came forward, chattering with each other, excited for what it would be.
"We can do a lot of different things-"
"LET'S GET A FOX IN HERE TO YIFF!" Orange Guy was ready to fuck up everyone.
"Oh... please Old Sport, I thought you were over it!" Simon groaned.
"Let us create a science experiments to turn our machines into thinking, living beings, by using the souls of the onlookers..." Henry knew exactly how he wanted to spend the time he was forced to stay here.
"We did that last year..." Dave whined, not enthusiastic about this.
"How about we lure them in with snacks and kidnap them then?" Mike was basically lying on his table.
Everyone cheered.
"Great." Matt nodded with a plastic smile. "We can always use more slaves for our club."
"We have slaves?" Simon perked up, deeply shocked.
"Jk. The idea is still great though, so ten Tokens to you. You might be able to buy yourself some licorice."
"If we're already kidnapping them, can I have them?!" Excited Dave jumped up. "I want to test my new experimental theater play on someone, but for some reason everyone just runs away after the first five minutes."
Henry rolled his eyes. "Could that be because you tend to set them on fire?"
"IT'S ART! I never complained about you stuffing cats and dogs into your machines!"
Matt simply widened his grin and managed to shut everyone up in seconds. "Now, now... don't get too excited. If we want to kidnap people and force them to join or club or watch your psychopathic theater plays, you will have to train a routine on how we get them without them managing to scream. For tomorrow I want everyone to think about a part you want to play in the kidnapping."
"Alright..." They said in unity, just wanting to finally leave.
"Old Sport!" Simon walked up to him, waving.
"I'm standing five meters away from you, stop waving."
"O-oh... sorry, I guess...?"
"Pff, you look so depressed. C'mon, I'm just making fun of you for the heck of it! Let's go!"
Cheered up Phone Guy tilted his head and snickered a bit, speeding up to walk beside him. Before they left, Orange Guy turned around once more, taking a good long look at Henry, which was supposed to say: I'm enjoying myself, but I will make sure that you won't.
It was quite the complicated message to get across, but somehow Henry was getting it. He simply stayed calm and showed him a black smile. This was a game two people could play.
Simon and Old Sport walked home side by side, for a while they stayed silent.
For a long while actually.
"Are you alright, Simon?"
"Hm?! Oh... well... yes. Haha! I was just thinking... how much the club has changed now that you're here!"
"It did?"
"I... Matt seems really happy about you being there."
OH PLEASE NO.
"He's always... staring at you. It's odd, I guess? When I'm with you, he stares at me as well. I wonder what he's thinking."
Probably something with dark dungeons, chains and buttplugs. Or using their meat to cook a giant pizza. Or using cats as silencer for his gun.
But that weren't very appropriate things to say... next to the fact that the script wouldn't allow any kind of response. "Who knows? He's probably just... uh...curious?"
"Hm... I don't think that's it..." Phone Guy suddenly clenched his stomach. „Ow...never mind... see you tomorrow..."
Irritated Orange Guy watched him leave, but was transported to the poem game too quickly to call after him.
Again he picked the words for the Pink Guy, but a feeling of dread was hanging over his head. This game was programmed by Henry... there was a high chance that something horrible could happen at any moment. As if it wasn't horrible enough to be stuck with fictional characters inside of a dating sim...
When he thought about it, it actually wasn't all that bad to be stuck in a dating sim, there were worse games to be stuck in. Imagine being stuck in a horror game with Matt. Now THAT would be a horrible fate!
Teleporting right back into school, he wasted no time pestering Henry again. "Hey, Henry, why don't you kill yourself?"
"Because I have no knife."
"I wouldn't allow you a knife anyway!"
"You cannot control this whole world, even if you are the main character."
"Are you sure about that?"
"I programmed this."
"But you've got sucked into this anyway! You aren't too smart!"
"I will get back out of here and then I will pay you back."
"Will you?"
"Plenty."
"I can't wait, darling~ Make sure this game doesn't fry your brain before you can get out and you suddenly are all over me~"
"It might be an inevitability I have bestowed upon the characters of the game to grow inexplicable attracted to the main character, yet you cannot force a creature to love, which has no emotion in the first place."
"Awwww... you can feel love~"
"I would prefer if you return to spew your profanities at me."
"I know~ That's why I won't ever stop being sweet to you!"
"We will see about that. I cannot wait to break every single one of you bones."
"In the desire to hurt, there's a lot of passion... and in that passion there'slove!"
"What would you gain from a reality in which I would be in any way attracted to you?"
"I could rip apart from the inside out." He said it without any lights in his eyes, being more similar to the man in front of him than ever before.
Somehow that managed to give Henry a short pause. Changing topic, he returned to work on his machine. "By the way, where is your friend?"
"The phone? Is he my friend, honestly?"
"How heartless. You should at least show him the ropes on how to live without you. I am doubting he is getting the hang of it."
This was... weird phrasing? But before he could ask, Dave jumped at them.
"SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORTSYYYYYYYYYYYYY! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENRYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! LOOK AT THIS NET THAT I JUST FOUND! WE COULD KIDNAP PEOPLE WITH THIS!"
Henry raised an eyebrow. "I have brought chemicals to anesthetize them. If you attack your victim with a net, they will scream."
"Yeah, yeah, you're the smartest Henry... Sportsy! What did you do?"
"Uh... I'm not sure yet..."
"Hey, you could help me with my plan!" Excited Dave grinned. "You might even want to take part in my play!"
Mike, who overheard that conversation groaned. "What bullshit. You can't catch people with nets just like that!"
"We have to carry them away, right?! There the net could be useful! Either way, what are you even doing that you can complain this much?"
The man turned away, basically only murmuring. "Cupcakes."
Everyone was silent, trying not to burst out in laughter. Old Sport gave a giant thumbs up. "Very great idea, I wish I could be part of that!"
Shortly he was glanced at. "... You could be. I mean, I could use a pair of extra hands anyway... also, it's boring to do that fucking stuff on your own."
Confused Orange Guy turned towards Henry, who only mouthed the word "inevitability"before grinning morbidly.
Dave growled. "You're always an asshole, also, you never spend any time with Sportsy before, so why now?"
"Maybe because of that reason?! Maybe I first wanted to get fucking comfortable with that weird new guy?!"
"Now you're calling him weird! Old Sport, you should really rather help me!"
"Yeah, right, he should help the fucking psychopath and probably serial killer! Good idea, you could meet at your house, you show him your shitty basement and stab him a few hundred times!"
"If I would THINK about THAT, then the guy WHO LITERALLY HAS ISSUES CONTAINING HIS EMOTIONS is FAR more dangerous!"
"WELL, WHO THE FUCK STARTED WITH THE SCREAMING!?"
"WHO IS SCREAMING ALL THE TIME NOW?!"
Matt stepped in, out of breath. "Sorry, I was practicing the triangle and-wait. Why are you already having that discussion? That's not how it is supposed to be..."
Old Sport was feeling uncomfortable to be fought over, so he quickly jumped directly onto Henry. "I've chosen by babe already! My and Hen-bae 5ever!"
Henry was struggling under him, his movements immediately becoming uncontrolled. Apparently that man hated bodily contact. Good to know.
"Get off me in this instant or live to regret it."
Teasingly Orange Guy leaned back to sit forehead to forehead. He could have sworn that the eyes of the man became even darker. Despite it not being true, he said the next sentence anyway, hoping to piss the guy off even further. "You're cute when you're angry."
"Do you want to ruin the fun? Last chance, Jack."
Fully triggered now, said man leaned fully in, whispering softly into his ear, as much hate in it as imaginable. "You think you're smart, huh? You know fucking nothing."
Suddenly Henry had taken ahold of his head, almost ripping out half of his hair. "In your cockiness you have overlooked an important flaw of you position... I AM smarter than you."
The surroundings began to glitch out.
"And you are most certainly NOT the one in control."
- Set day to: festival - - - change locations: Simon's house/WARNING: Location is not available in script - - - change successful -
It became black, then white again, rapid flashing inside of his eyes, whirling, chaos, screeching voices, nails on chalkboard.
Silence.
Phone Guy was---
No, he was in Simon's room. Phone Guy was sitting on his bed, clutching his fists.
Black, white, black, white.
There was a monster sitting on top of the guy, black goo was dripping from its snout, its bleeding eyes filled with joy. Phone Guy was suffocating, his starved body shivering violently.
Black, white, black, white...
He was sitting on his desk, writing.

I never got to hear what my friend actually thought of my poem. That's the way my best friend shows kindness.
He told me things I hated to hear. About hundreds of me.
I know that he told the truth. I've seen them in my dreams. Hundreds of them waiting inside of the factory, like useless pieces of plastic, ready to be used and thrown away.
There was never any difference to my existence. No one actually cared. When I tried to make them laugh, they thought I was obnoxious, when I tried to hide away, they thought I was a waste of air. No matter what I did, I did it wrong. Every choice was the wrong one.
But does that really matter now?
I guess the only thing left now is to be thankful that at least no one will miss me. If I can take one thing away from being this utterly useless, then it is that at least this won't hurt anyone.
When I'm dead, it won't hurt anymore.
I doubt that they will be surprised, but I doubt even more that they will be sad. Maybe Old Sport will have the curtesy to pretend to be sad for a day. That would be nice... wouldn't it?
I hope not.
I hope he doesn't waste his time on me.
Another Phone Guy will be send.
A better version.
Someone who functions.
Someone who actually can help the people around them.
And maybe...
Just maybe...
They will think back at me and be thankful for this.
Maybe this is the first good thing I did in my life.
Maybe I can finally do something right.
I just want to make them happy.
And this is the only way.
If you find me, then please bury me... that would be the only thing I would dare to ask for. If it isn't too much hassle. I'm sorry, this is the last thing I'm asking for, so please, please be generous.
Thanks for reading.

Black, white, black, white.
The demon on top of him had covered the human below him almost completely in this black goo. Only the vaguely humanoid shaped remained. It dragged itself towards the shelf, a long rope falling out of it.
Numb Jack watch the guy knot it.
He was doing it wrong.
He would suffocate.
But he couldn't scream.
Black, white, black white.
Lonely Simon took a last shaky breath, before looking around.
Nobody was there.
He was all alone.
Returning to the desk, the slight sound of sobbing came from him, his body shivering even harder than before. Almost he reached out to his note again, before suddenly violently punching himself against the head.
Leaving it hanging, he slowly attached the rope to the ceiling, got himself a small stool and slipped the rope around his head, before making it tighter.
He was doing it all wrong, oh god.
Oh god...
The man made a step forward.
Orange Guy wished he could look away.
It took not even ten second before Simon began struggling, trying to tear the noose back away from his neck, as his body reacted to the suffocation.
The noose was too tight, he couldn't slip it back over his Phone. Helplessly the fingers scratched over the skin, quickly open it up, as blood began running down over them.
The body was probably too preoccupied with dying to notice that though.
His legs were kicking helpless in the air and he made some incredibly pitiful noises. Panicked screeching, helpless cries.
Three whole minutes this went on until his legs slowly stopped moving and his arms didn't do anything than twitching a little.
Then it was over.
- Return: Main script -
Orange Guy was lying in his bed, feeling close to puking. Despite everything he's seen so far, this was... painful to watch.
His phone vibrated.
That is my sort of fun ;)
That fucking piece of shit. That monster. He could feel the smugness behind that smiley. The worst part?
He would be his body that Henry hadn't lied. Henry had watched it and laughed, whole-heartedly.
Another buzz, another message.
I had a masterfully crafted plan before, but you kept pushing me, forcing me to speed up the process. Your loss.
Loss!? Yeah, he was the kind of guy that would call it a loss.
More buzzing.
If you deleted me, all these problems would go away.
That was a dirty lie, so disgusting, he felt almost insulted. This was edged into the game, wasn't it? This was part of the plan, it had to be.
But he wasn't one to let himself be set back by anything.
He HATED Henry.
He could feel it in his guts.
It was burning.
It forced him to move forward.
An ugly grin took place on his face. Before this, he had been far too compliant. It was all fun and games until someone died, right?
Now it's gotten personal.
It was time to rip this reality apart.
Quickly he wrote his own message.
S0 f0cking h0t, I ll beat my meat all night n0w, butt only 9/11, not enough anime tiddys. Playing the game properly from now on, get prepared handsome~ I'll fuck you one way or another.
This would probably get Henry to scream down his whole place.
Thankfully, not a real person was harmed... and his lack of soul took care of the rest. Who cared anyway? Now he was back on a mission and he wouldn't stop from anything.
Bring it on!
This game would be subjected to a reality breaking nonsensicalness of his own mind, imprinting it onto the fragile pocket dimension.
Old Sport knew how to create rifts, Old Sport knew how to tear into the minds of everyone.
This would be fun.

------------------

A/N: Now, this will go on for a while... three chapters at most though, so don'tworry. I feel strange after writing this... next chapter will have reality-breaking randomness in it, to make up for this depression.
By the way, never think like Simon. If you DO think like Simon, get help immediately! No matter what you think, you DESERVE help.
Psycho-Sport is best Sport.
Update: Somehow Wattpad fucks up my spaces. Goddammit, why didn't anyone tell me about that? ;u;
Also, I'm questioning my formating. Would my stories benefit from more paragraphs?