Disclaimer: I do not own Little Nightmares. I also do not own the picture.

(This is a Little nightmares (video games) oneshot.)

(Its The dunce kid-centric)

(Sorry if the characters seem OOC.)

(This is my way of how the dunce kid could have ended up there. By the way, imma call him Kyle cause he looks like one and I have no clue what a name for him could be lol.)

(qwertuno and SilentReadersMatter and Mycurrentfandom And -H0RIZ0N)

(I apologise for any spelling mistakes.)

(Hope you enjoy this little oneshot. 😄)

He draws.

He draws and draws and draws and draws.

It feels forever, the silent room. The sound of a dragging chalk is all he hears anymore. The kid stares at his drawings.

Why me? I didn't do anything.

He only stood up for himself. And he ends up in this room. The room of torture.

At least he calls it that.

The chalk drags on. He draws.

The signal tower rules all, the single tower rules all.

THE SIGNAL TOWER RULES ALL.

Is a phrase repeated so, so many times. Kyle stares at his work. Did he do anything wrong?

I stood up for myself.

He stood up for himself.

A mantra repeated every day he comes to this room.

Boy, he feels like it's so wrong.

The signal tower soothes minds, controls-

Wait, controls? It protects us.

It warps us.

Another voice says, deep inside. Kyle remembers a fragment left behind. A once normal boy never seeing the light of again.

It seems he stole control.

It protects-

WARPS!

The voice yells. Kyle yelped, crawling backwards as if the chalk is responsible for the yell. It isn't.

He just wants it to be.

He's in denial.

Fine, maybe it is.

You remember our punishment? Our craving of death? It's coming soon. I can feel it.

Kyle senses mild forshadowing.

Kssh. Ksssh.

As if under a spell, the chalks somehow is in his hand again. Kyle doesn't grabbing the thing.

He draws. And keeps drawing.

It's his punishment.

Kyle remembers.

Pushing, so much pushing.

He feels to the floor, crying. Tears steaming down his face. Oh God, it hurts.

He just wants the pain to go.

His classmates don't intend that to happen.

They leave the beatings, obeying. The feeling of bliss coming upon then when listening. They won't get punished. It's good.

It's what they call a win-win situation.

At least to them.

"P-please!"

Kyle begs repeatedly, curling up. It's all the defence he has against the bullies. The Once kind classmates now reduced to their current state.

It's kind of sad, really.

"No."

One whispers, punching his face. It hurts, Kyle clutches his cheek. A whimper escape, he didn't mean that to happen.

It's his doom.

The bullies take they as a win.

Kyle feels rage building up.

They beating continue, they continue, he cries.

And cries and cries and cries.

Maybe he like this. Oh, he doesn't.

And guess what?

Kyle snaps.

"STOP!"

He grabs one, shoving the bully away. A shock expression appears in their face. A rush of adrenaline hits his body.

He feels ready for a fight. And they give.

One gets a punch in, he blocks it. One tries a kick, he deflect it. One tried a shove, he prevents it.

SNAP!

He doesn't prevent the ruler snap.

All freeze. All stare.

The teacher stands there, she glares.

Eyes contorting, neck stretching. It catches the intended prey. Kyle is taken away.

He's given the dunce punishment.

The memory snaps something.

It's one he hates remembering. The voice says another word, Kyle gets annoyed.

To bad he can't block him out.

He does back to drawing.

We will die. We will die.

The tower will protect us.

Is all he replies these days.

As said before, he has one defense mechanism.

It's used against the one deep inside.

He draws. Pictures, various ones. Ones he doesn't remembering drawing, they're just there. He continues drawing, regardless of fuzzy memories.

His desire don't matter, the signal tower takes care of the citizens. It protest them all.

He draws a picture of his master.

He obeys, he listens.

This punishment is justified.

Kyle disobeyed, he understands. He is being punished. It's fair, it has to be fair.

It is fair, right?

You'd think it is. You would.

The voice reminds Kyle of something lost long ago.

A time where everything is normal, he is happy.

Smiling along with mommy, by her side when sad.

The TV off, not payed attention to. It doesn't need to be on, they spend time together. They're happy-

BZZZZZZZzzzzzZZZ...

The single comes along again, mommy switches the TV on instantly. She is hypnotised, eyes locking on.

Kyle notices her eyes sunken in a little.

'She's just not feeling well..'

He believes that desperate thought.

The moments comes back little by little.

His wish of death returns. His mother is gone.

Lost in the transmission.

Her head is no longer hers, a mind lost to the single tower. It protects, has its reasons. He's safe.

Right?

Now you understand. Give me peace.

It's torture deep down inside, to fight for your own body. Where once presence is created, another takes over. The original owner forced in the backseat.

Kyle used to think he'd be normal.

Now he realises he's not.

The voice is right.

Death is such a mysterious thing, some are afraid, some want to seek a path to cheat. Some wish for peace.

Kyle wished the third.

Ping.

The sound of en elevator. Kyle smiles.

It's fine.

A peaceful smile. Kyle's mind wishes.

Fate somehow granted. He draws and draws and draws. Just so his last moments aren't in vain.

He's not like the others. He's aware.

SCREEEEEEEEEE.

The dragging of a pipe, Kyle tried to attack in instinct. To protect his body of a leaf second gesture away from death.

He wants his last moments to see his grantee.

It's both in a jacket with a paper bag in his head.

Odd, but Kyle doesn't judge.

BASH!

The pipe lands against his head. The bit falls back, smiling internally. He doesn't anything. He has a last thought though, one last thought.

At least I'll be with mommy again.

(A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the oneshot.)

(Vote, and comment if you like this~😚)

(Hoped you enjoyed this little fic~😘)