TW: Suicide, blood, moderate swearing

Ever since that faithful day, 3 weeks ago, he could hear the whispering voices in his feeble mind. Taunting him everywhere he travelled. Delivering nothing but nightmares to him numerous amounts of times in his deep slumber.

"Loser"

"Worthless"

"Failure"

No matter the amount of headache painkillers, or calming therapy sessions, he could never seem to force them to leave his prefrontal cortex.

If only he had everyone back in his pathetic life...

If only he knew how dreadful the resulting impact would have on him...

He would've done anything to prevent it from occurring...

3 Weeks Ago

The familiar crimson suited Crewmate, Player, had finally defeated the latest mod entry in the completely different virtual world of Friday Night Funkin'. After 1000 consecutive straight wins, he craved for something more challenging, since according to him, the concept of essentially button mashing your way to victory felt simply elementary for him.

He knew exactly which particular game to choose for that scenario...

Among Us.

The only game that put him through the thick and thin, through hell and back for just short of a year, just to obtain his first ever victory. It was well deserved and the entire comaraderie cheered for him for finally pulling on through.

He believed it would bring a delightful surprise to the crew in order to take in how far he'd come since the very beginning, where he was just a simple bean, playing just for everyone's amusement and fast forwarding to the present where he's acknowledged as a true professional gamer in the eyes of the beholder. He had finally become a fully grown adult, wrinkles slightly underneath his visor, wearing a stubble for facial hair and the tone in his speech patterns had become increasingly deeper.

Plus, he wanted to get in touch with them just to reassure them that he's still alive and not missing off the face of the earth. It felt like a millenium had passed by the last time they reunited for the update for the addition of new roles.

Once the code had been entered in order to access Captain's Lobby, he prepared his grand entrance, a return to form almost.

In almost no time flat, the signature white flash shone brightly on top of one of the available seats in the seemingly drab lobby.

He swiftly jumped off and confidently trotted along to his fellow companions, bearing a wide, bubbly grin across his face. Much to his evntual dismay, the older, wrinkled crewmates returned the gesture with menacing glares; Looks that could almost kill...

Hands on his hips, as though to display a sassy attitude, Veteran opened up with a less than welcoming introduction.

Veteran: Oh, look who finally decided to show up...

Captain: Get a load of Mr. I'm too busy snogging my arrogant, obnoxious self and my imaginary girlfriend made entirely of computer genetics!

Confused by their sudden outburst from his absence, Player questioned the pair of close friends. He knew ditching them in favour of the infamous rap-battling game, wasn't a page to take out of the book, but they wouldn't take it that far...right?

Player: Hey, come on. Why are you getting riled up over me just leaving for awhile?

Veteran's opaque visor squinted in utter bewilderment at his remark.

Veteran: Are you shitting me right now? You don't even see the bigger picture, do ya...loser?

Player jerked at that last word...

Loser...

His own best friend never used that expression on purpose directly to him...What was his deal?

Captain continued to emit harsh insults towards Player in an effort to belittle him.

Captain: Yeah, the only picture he's ever seen is whatever's on his computer screen because he never takes his darn eyes off of them! Have you even touched grass, you pathetic pile of trash!?

Player was beginning to feel more and more betrayed by these comments. He knew the relationship with him and Captain wasn't necessarily the greatest, but this was appalling to hear from the white pilot.

A particular word in that sentence caught the attention of an emerald suited Crewmate who waddled sluggishly towards the trio who remained in a feud with one another, cigarette in plain view of the rest of the crew and visor almost as salmon as Player's sibling.

Stoner: Someone say like...'grass'...or whatever? That's the key to my inner zen...you feel me?

Inhaling the substance found within the beige burning cancer stick, Captain proceeded to shove him away, clearly indicating to not be a part of the conversation.

Captain: Shut it, Stoner! This is between me and this blood stained filth standing before me!

Feeling somewhat sympathetic for the crewmate, high as a kite, Player attempted to defend him for Captain's aggressive behaviour.

Player: Hey, back off Captain!

Veteran: Or what? You're gonna cry and complain again just like we haven't heard you stop whining every single time you fail, huh failure?

Veteran gestured a crying face bringing his clenched fists up to his cheeks and proceeding to move them back and forth below his visor, angering him further.

Player: I'm warning you! You're on thin ice!

Captain saw this as an opportunity to taunt player in a cruel fashion.

Captain: Ooh, I'm sooo scared! That's such a harsh threat to the marshmallow bean! I think I'm going to faint from all the BULLSHIT THAT I'VE PUT UP WITH YOU FOR THE LAST 25 YEARS!!!

The constant verbal bullying had eventually reached his breaking point and was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Player knew that trying to reason with them was certainly not the ideal route to take, so he took matters into his own hands and unleashed a barrage of pent up rage, held back previously by his sanity.

He showed no mercy...

Player: A'ight, y'know what? I can't take it anymore! Fuck you, Captain and Veteran!

Loud elongated gasps echoed the chamber almost immediately. They couldn't believe what they were hearing.

Veteran, on the other hand, took in stride, almost as if he knew this was the moment his bubble was going to burst this entire time.

Veteran: Wow, that's how you're starting when you come back after your long absence? You're a piece of shit, y'know?

No holds barred any longer, Player's first target was his true best friend, who was disgusted that he would even come out with a comment like that, after all the memories they've spent together on wild and wacky adventures.

Player: I'm terrible!? Have you even looked in a mirror recently, you disgusting, fat pig? You're a slob whose only achievement was playing for 18 hours a day! Bet you must be real proud of how sleazy you are!

Captain: Hey, watch your mouth! This is my new bestie, you're talking to!

His attention turned to the white clad leader, pointing his index crimson finger directly at him, fury in his visor.

Player: Don't get me started on you, you chalk-ridden, sister stealer! What the fuck were you planning when you hooked up with her in the first place!? Trying to one up me, on top of my losing streak? Some leader you are! You've never even considered my life goal of winning a single game, damnit! Nevermind, your 'intentions' on trying to cheer up myself. You're so oblivious, you couldn't even see the signs that I despised you, ever since you started turning into a possessive stalker fan! You're not even worth a sliver of my gratitude.

Player folded his arms and turned away from him, no longer wishing to make direct eye contact.

Mr. Cheese witnessed the chaos envelop right before his very eyes and smirked, knowing he required no effort whatsoever. He nudged TheGentleman with his invisible arm to which they both chuckled at the sight of it all.

Mr. Cheese: Well, I'm sure glad I'm not either of those two...

He thought he got off the hook quite easily...

Until Player stormed up to him, unrelenting wrath still yet to come.

Player: Yeah, I'm not sparing you either, you selfish bastard!

Mr. Cheese: Excuse me!?

Player: I knew from the moment you flung yourself back onto the Skeld, deep down, you'd turn into an egotistical, toxic asshole who bends over backwards for a posh prick who, let's face it, is the worst possible relationship I've ever bear witnessed too. And, I thought my horrific witch of an ex was already a pain in my ass to deal with.

Mr. Cheese looked moreso ready to square off against the ketchup suited crewmate and leave him to a bloody pulp, than horrified at his insult.

Player finally teared into the British double tophat-wearing individual.

Player: You think that slapping someone in cold blood for repeating their name is acceptable!? You disgust me, you black hearted old dick!

TheGentleman hung his head in shame, with the muenster comfortably patting his back to reassure him it wasn't his fault for his outburst, and the latter remained with a cold stare towards the beanie dweller.

Player trekked back to his original position and clenched his fists with such a grip, he almost drew a tiny bit of blood. He gave off one final verbal abuse to accentuate his point.

Player: And if my rant wasn't made clear enough, let me say it loud for everyone, nice and clearly. From the bottom of my heart, FUCK EVERYONE IN THIS GODFORSAKEN LOBBY!!!

Everyone had lost sight of reality at that point. Were they witnessing Player speak to them in such a manner, or did an entirely new ravaging beast come forth and rear its ugly head towards the group?

Either way, the group were in complete dismay at this revelation. Mother held her two teenagers close in a protective fashion while simultaneously closing their ears to prevent the oncoming swears, B-Day's ears were being covered by the rose palms of his loving fiancée, Baggy was constantly hyperventilating inside his rusty paper bag and even Gnome's menacing stare changed to dark and foreboding lifeless tone wielding a knife, only to be restrained by the indigo poindexter.

Veteran: Well, you've certainly made your mind up about who's side your on. Your own...

Captain: With no single individual to lean on for guidance and aid. Allow me to demonstrate this further for you...

Captain trudged along, stopping just short of a few centimetres from where the red suited crewmate was standing and proceeded to strike him with a ferocious backhand, instantly knocking him to the ground, and knocking one of his ashen teeth out of their sockets to the steel floor.

Blood began to trickle down his mouth and he proceeded to wipe it away with his crimson thumb, twitching as he glanced over at it to confirm this speculation.

Captain decided enough was enough and opened the settings tab on his monitor, readying his finger on the kick button.

Captain: All those in favour of banning this...thing...from ever visiting this lobby again, say 'Aye'!

Everyone swiftly agreed with Captain's proposal, refusing to budge or stand by him for even a second.

Everyone but Player: 'Aye!'

Player struggled his way back up onto his feet and immediately attempted to retaliate by rushing and landing a sucker punch to Captain, but the simple tap of the screen had sealed his fate and he disappeared at point blank range. He didn't even flinch at his sudden surprise attack.

You were kicked from CAPT.

You can rejoin if the room hasn't started.

The millisecond this coded message appeared on the main menu, he instantly typed up the code once again to try and re-enter the lobby and give Captain a piece of his mind. Unfortunately, he made a very secure, fullproof plan to disconnect the original lobby and create a brand new locale, and considering he never delievered the new code, he had no choice but to surrender.

The scarlet bean took off his ebony headset and microphone and pressed the bridge of his nostrils together with his index finger and thumb.

His relationship with his friends...tarnished...dissipated...vanished...because he lost his temper and self-control.

Player: I can't believe it...I come back to them after such a long time and this is how they repay me!? By treating me like dirt and less than a human being!?

He was nearly tempted to punch a hole through his computer screen in a fit of rage, but stopped himself before things got out hand.

He was in deep thought about the connection between his recent fight with the core crew and his annual long break. He assumed with a hint of vexation in his voice that...

Player: This is just the work of that pointless and idiotic Friday Night Funkin' acid trip that's destroyed my relationship with everyone! One thing's for sure is I'm putting an end to this madness once and for all!

He firmly grasped his mouse and scrolled quickly over to the desktop icon for the aforementioned game and clicked on it a surplus amount of times, almost damaging the left-click button.

Once the window tab popped open into his field of view, he immediately started up the game and was transported to where it all began...the stage from Week 1.

There sat a massive boombox and speakers, with Girlfriend cross-legged idly bopping her head from side to side directly above, as per usual. Only this time, her eyes were clenched shut and she appeared to bear a furious expression, almost as if she was blatantly ignoring Player upon his arrival.

Regardless, the cyan-haired shortie approached her and turned his head away, knowing full-well the next phase of his plan wouldn't lead to a happy ending. He uttered coherently but in a quieter level for her to hear.

Player: Girlfriend, I have something to confess to you...

She simply rose her hand to prevent any more dribble emit from Player's mouth.

Girlfriend: Save it, I've heard it all before, Player.

Player: Wait, wha-

She sprung off the boombox and landed delicately on the wooden stage. Once she regained her footing, she slowly walked over to Player, but with every step she took, he could sense a vile, monstrous vibe to her personality and he began to tremble and gradually stepped back in fright. He immediately knew that this wasn't her demon counterpart taking over. There would've been obvious pointers from the overall cosmetics to differentiate between the two.

Girlfriend proceeded to explain a brief overview of how unstable a typical romantic partnership can dawn on two people.

Girlfriend: "I liked our time spent together as a couple, but there were some major rocks and bumps along the road that just can't be ironed out of the equation. I think we should go our separate ways."

Player: How did you anticipate that's what I was gonna say?

Girlfriend couldn't help but grin at his query, cornering him to the maroon backstage curtains. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed by her current stature.

Girlfriend: You don't think I noticed how pissed off I saw you returning back to me after you told me you were off to visit your friends again? That could only mean you broke the bond between them and crushed any chance of redeeming it. Not to mention, afterwards you probably blamed this game and me for this incident before you decided to show up and break the news. Am I wrong?

The cardinal sneaker user was almost left speechless. He was simultaneously confused but impressed at how correct she was just from identifying the issue at hand from a singular sentence.

Player: Well...not really...

Girlfriend: Can't say I'm surprised. You'll get a kick out of this. I was planning on doing the same thing to you!

Player: Are you serious, right now?

His virtual darling in ruby heels delivered a crushing verbal blow, detailing how wrong Player's actions were and ultimately cost them the relationship.

Girlfriend: Simping for other women when we played countless amounts of mods together, right in front of me might I add? You being completely ignorant of your surroundings when we're in impending danger or imminent death? Hell, using me as a human shield? You bet I'm serious! Such a low fucking move, tough guy!

This was outrageous. He wanted to end the relationship, but he didn't realise Girlfriend would just willingly accept, all the while calling him out for his ever present flaws that he refuses to acknowledge.

Player: So, you're really done with me then? No thank you or a goodbye, at the very least?

Girlfriend: Not a chance. But, you do get this in return and also this.

She smirked while performing a middle finger gesture with both pale hands to the timing of both 'this' words, obviously finished with this whole ordeal and not bothering spending time with Player anymore.

Girlfriend: Best of luck looking for love elsewhere...loser.

Player flinched at that word again...it's almost like a tiny trigger that sets him off on a tangent anytime someone mentions it anywhere in his vicinity.

Girlfriend merrily skipped away just outside of Player's perspective, but not without him sealing the deal on their official breakup.

Player: Well...good! I never needed your love to begin with. Besides, you aren't real. I'm an absolute idiot thinking this was perfectly acceptable!

Once that was over and done with, he proceeded to exit back onto his desktop and drag the downloaded icon to his easily accessible recycle bin, finally escaping this whole charade about a fake relationship he himself made to be this astounding achievement.

He slowly came to realise how good of a riddance his decision came to be.

Player: She was bugging me to begin with. You can never really trust demo-

His thankful lament was slowly interrupted by a shrieking, booming masculine voice that echoed through his entire homespace, which instantly caught his attention.

Alan: JAMES KALEB PLAYSON, GET YOUR BACKSIDE DOWN HERE, THIS INSTANT!!!

He silently cursed the naming choice upon his birth to the world surrounding him.

Player: Ugh...of course they had to give me a middle name.

Because of the alarming voice at the source of his father of all people, he made sure to obey his command, but trudged along still irritated from his friends leaving him to essentially...rot.

Walking down the staircase with one hand stroking the dark-coated banister, he prepared a grumbly vent to his dear old man...

Player: What do you want, Dad? I was currently dealing with a little situation until you-

Alan: Explain to me what the hell these grades are!

Until he was quickly interrupted by an infuriated banana coloured head of the table and an equally appalled purple mother, gripping a laminated sheet of paper imprinted with a straight set of the letter 'F', across a handful of study topics listed directly next to them.

His report card...

He practically shoved the card forcefully into his grip and Player felt it was a safe option to lower his IQ in response, hoping his father would overlook it as nothing more than a simple mistake.

Player: What gr- Oh, those! Um...well...funny you should mention that...

Alan: James, do not play dumb or lie to me! Spill the beans right now, or there will be consequences, beginning with stripping you away from your gaming privileges!

The red exosuit crewmate was constantly being peer pressured into delivering the factual truth before his very eyes and Player tried so desperately to conceal this particular truth by delaying the inevitable for as long as time would permit.

Player: Well...the reason for me failing college with terrible grades is because...well-

Unluckily, his older magenta sibling caught wind of this, and ultimately set things in motion by telling the adults herself, saving him the trouble.

Dum: He's too busy skipping it and glueing his eyes to the TV screen! That's why!

Player: Shut it, sis! It's a computer screen, not a-

Alan: I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU, RIGHT NOW!

Alan threw an array of pounding fists to the table, his breaking point officially being reached, which almost caused Player to receive a heart attack. On the inside, he was now fearing for his weak-willed life.

Somehow, he managed the tiniest bit of strength in his throat to voice his concern and questioned his sister, still a tad disturbed by Alan's immediate flare-up.

Player: But, how did you-

Dum: ...know? There must be a loose nut or bolt in that teensy brain of yours that's made you forget how you just indirectly told us you're playing games all the time, instead of studying and working for your exams. You never denied having done it. And people call me 'Dum'.

Player's mother was left unimpressed at this revelation on his behaviour coming to full fruition and proceeded to scold him harshly, her fists clenched and knuckles facing her sides.

Mum: I'm extremely disappointed in you, son! We've given you support all the way through and this is the treatment we get from you!? Slacking off and becoming arrogant towards your peers!?

Alan: At least your sister has earned our respect and gratitude because she cares and she's willing to try for a better future.

The pink sticky-note crewmate glanced at her parents with an angelic look in her eyes, blinking a couple times through her praise, giving off a goody two-shoes personality and then felt it was completely necessary to rub it in his face.

Dum: Yeah, go and suck it, you lowlife scumbag!

Player's inability to come up with a clever excuse fueled by his parent's current paroxysm, now brought him to the brink of looking for their forgiveness.

Player: Mom, Dad, please just give me another chance! I'm begging you, I'll try harder and work more efficiently next time! I promise!

Alan covered his ears and scrunched his face, ignoring his son's requests as he's just about had enough of his constant nonsense.

Alan: No, ju...just stop pleading! We've offered you far too many chances. Ever since you failed college the first year, we thought it was just a minor slipup, you would learn from your mistakes and bounce back. But the more years have passed, the more times we've began to grown suspicious about your behaviour and it just kept on going and going and FUCKING GOING AGAIN!

Player's hope of redemption was reduced to atoms...dust...

No one was there to support him throughout all of this onslaught against him...

He collapsed onto the floor, his stubby knees being the only things keeping up his balance and posture and with a broken, unsettling tone...he expressed his sorrow and deeply apologised for everything he had pulled...

Player: Mom...Dad...Sis...I- I'm sorry...

There was no sympathy in return, no acceptance of the apology whatsoever from his own devoted relatives.

The punches just kept on coming and striking him down for the count.

Alan: Well, we're sorry you're just another mouth to feed.

Mum: Clearly our advice and teachings haven't gotten fresh in your mind.

Alan: Looks like there's only one way we can salvage this.

Player took this golden opportunity to plead and beg for their approval, with whatever respect was even worth salvaging. He so desperately craved for their forgiveness that he clasped both of his coral palms together, symbolising a praying manner.

Player: Please tell me! Let me know whatever I can do to make this right, please!

He allowed his jaune father to speak his mind on the ideal solution that would be best fitting for such a dishonorable offspring.

He decided to eliminate the punishments he felt were deemed unjustified for his behaviour.

Alan: Okay, then. I'm not gonna send you to your room, because that obviously won't do the trick.

Player: Really...? I thought for sure I would've been punished by being grounded for eternity or-

Alan: No...even worse than that...

The forboding message spoken by Alan didn't spell the slightest hint of good fortune for Player. He trembled at the mere thought of the most suitable, but horrific punishment worthy for him to continue living his grim future.

He awaited this very answer to be revealed to him in a moment's notice...

Player: What are you planning to do with me...?

Alan: I'm sending you out onto the streets to fend for yourself.

There it was. The response he never wished would come true. It had been a nightmare of his ever since he had entered his teenager phase. He had been well acquainted with people he loved surrounding him, taking him in and caring for his every need.

This ongoing crisis is burdened by the fact that his close allies and partners in crime from his online murder mystery game had vanished and rejected him.

Things could only get seriously grim from here on out...

Player: W‐W-WHAT!? You can't be serious! I thought you all loved me like a real family!

Mum: You only deserve affection if you earned it, boy...if you were useful.

Alan: And you haven't displayed any hints of being helpful to us in recent years.

Player's heart was metaphorically stabbed a hundred times at what he just heard. His parents were cold hearted and showed no affection towards a failure of a son.

Player continued battling with what little shred of dignity he held left, searching for a way out of this madness, but to no avail...

Player: No, I can be useful! Let me stay here! I-I can be trustworthy!

Alan: Silence! I'm not putting my trust in your hands again for a very long period of time. Now, pack your things.

Player: But-

Alan: Don't make me repeat myself!

Player gradually lifted himself off the rugged carpet and trudged his way over to his room, hanging his head in utter shame.

He struggled the courage to make haste with stowing his personal belongings into his luggage, including his metal outdated Samsung mobile device, a spare change of clothes for a fresh new day ahead of him and most importantly, his family photo and a selfie he previously took of his acquaintances in the dreary lobby prior to his life crumbling to pieces and morsels.

He trekked back downstairs, devoid of any emotion. His whole family continued to project ominous looks across their visors at every step he took, much to his chagrin.

Grabbing and clutching onto some spare change and dollar notes, he chucked the objects towards Player's direction, managing to make direct contact. The concept of the dealt punishment was more than enough to deter him from flinching at being hit.

Alan: Here's some money.

He scrambled and scooped the loose quarters off the ground and shoved them in his pockets, which had suffered from some wear and tear. He was thankful they at least pitied him enough to not leave him quite literally for dead.

Alan: That's all I'm giving you to survive off of. Good luck figuring the rest out on your own.

As the conversation was coming to a close, Player just buckled down and accepted that this was the life he has to abide by now. All he can really accomplish at this point in time is to mourn over his considerable, major losses.

The banana suited individual showed Player out the door, pushing him every so often to prevent him from travelling at an inchmeal pace.

No saving grace would be at his doorstep anytime soon...

Player: Okay. If this is what it's come to...what consequences my actions have lead to...I won't bother you and just get out of your hair.

Alan: Don't even think about returning here again...loser...

Player once again shook at that last word. It would forever be engraved in his mind alongside similar alternative terms used to describe how lackluster and pathetic his self-esteem has bestowed upon him.

He was now located on his front porch, ready to brave the mysterious world that would take him by surprise at every turn and corner.

He turned around once more to face his father, a broken mess...

Player: Before I go...I just wanna say from my very soul...I still love you...and that will never change.

Despite all of the rising conflicts Player was seemingly at fault for, he still displayed some respect and tender care for his whole bloodline. He chose to try and be well meaning after all of this...

Alan didn't consent to a verbal response. Instead, he began to creak the door and shut his mere existence out of his life for good. Player could make out a tear pooling across his visor before fully closing, almost as if to say "It didn't have to be this way..."

_______

It had been an absolute travesty and terrible nightmare trying to be accustomed to daily life outside of being sheltered inside his previous home.

Player wasn't clueless. His first priority was to ensure he got himself situated in an entirely new building no matter how unpleasant the conditions would offer.

He got in contact with the local estate agent who offered an extremely rundown apartment with the bare essentials and utilities. He paid upfront as he instinctively realised that it's a far better alternative than living out on the dark streets, dangerously close to being robbed of his personal belongings.

Once he nestled in to his crummy establishment to the best of his ability, he seeked out any paying professional jobs that would take him in. He struggled considerably during this section of living alone, given his terrible semester grades he obtained.

Eventually, word spread to an employer at Walmart, who out of sheer pity, signed him up for the role of a janitor, which he urgently accepted.

His performance while working was incredibly subpar, given his lack of motivation and constantly being pessimistic towards his other diligent co-workers. Because of this, he was subsequently fired from his job, lasting up until the first paycheck, which understandably wasn't a considerable amount.

Present (14th November 2045)

Slowly but surely, the once cherry, cheerful bean was nothing but a hollow shell of his former self.

Everything had been taken away from him, including the respect amongst his peers.

He took a look at his contacts on his phone and saw that virtually all of them blocked his number.

He gradually slipped into depression and it he incurred major chronic muscle pains, whenever he attempted to move.

He tried to alleviate his worries to a certain extent, by resorting to binge drinking alcohol. He wanted to wash away the memories that continued to remind him of how he caused this chain effect in the first place.

But, no matter the cans of Stella Artois or murky translucent glass bottles of Jack Daniels, they still kept coming back to forever haunt him.

He was currently lazily slouched on his spring-infested, bug-ridden, roughly patched arm-chair, almost losing the will to live at this point.

He managed to muster the strength to change the TV channel shakily holding the clicker, and switched over to one of the limited options that were presented.

Player: Nothing interesting going on around the world from the news, nowadays...

When his thumb connected with the next button, the TV image abruptly turned into static, and a multitude of black and white pixels flooded the screen.

He attempted to mend this issue, by pressing firmly on the button, only to be met with no response whatsoever. He continued to press the channel changer several times with each press getting more severe and damaging, with still no change, until it officially crossed his line.

He chucked the charcoal remote with such terminal velocity that it created a jagged, wide, gaping hole directly in the center, leading to strands of cracks adjacent to it.

It was broken and had met the end of it's life. It's kind of ironic, really. Almost as if the TV was sentient and wasn't able to respond to Player out of sheer...abandonment...

Player: And now the boxset has caved in...Ugh....

He glanced over at his surroundings. He nearly forgot how his whole life turned upside down, just with the click of a finger.

Player: Man...I've really hit rock bottom...

He leaned forward and slumped, pressing his hands against his visor almost not wanting to believe that what happened had just...happened.

Player: I've lost friendships, my family, my...dignity...and self worth...

He continued to slump further, knees practically making contact with his opaque visor.

He proceeded to lament once more at his own doing.

Player: It's all my fault...I...I...

He began to shake violently, trembling as more of the words used to describe his self-absorbed state came back to haunt him.

"Loser"

"Worthless"

"Failure"

They constantly entered his weak mind, unrelenting in their destruction of his morale.

He couldn't take this overbearance and seeing as he had nothing left to lose, he emotionally broke down, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Player: I NEVER SHOULD'VE BEEN BORN!!!

This sudden boost in energy, caused Player to violently position himself upright and manoeuvre around the area, destroying anything he could get his maroon hands on.

The empty bottles became nothing more than broken shards of glass thrown against the brick walls and the furniture had its material ripped and shredded out.

He was so caught up in his outburst that he never noticed that a few tiny shrapnels of glass had lodged their way into Player's skin, causing blood to trickle down from the wounds.

Nearby windows suffered from a similar fate to the already under-performing boxset.

Player: THIS MEASLY WORLD WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO MAKE IT A BETTER PLACE!?

He thunderously slammed his fist against the slightly slanted table, bruising it in the process and causing the structure to fall apart at the seems leaving nothing but the legs that once held it together.

Player: NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT WASTE MY LIFE ON STUPID, FUCKING VIDEO GAMES, BLINDED BY REALITY!

In no time flat, the dilapidated apartment was officially turned into a baron wasteland, almost resembling a construction site.

Player immediately collapsed onto the floor and curled up, silently weeping as though his life depended on it. A hiccup and a sniffle escaped him every once in a while and he remained stationary that way for a few solid minutes.

Player: I'm...I'm a miserable failure. I can't do anything right. No one truly cares about me.........

Eyes now almost as coral as his spacesuit, he woke up and took a glance at his surroundings once more.

His attention was noticeably drawn to a  string of rope detached from the curtain rods, a still functioning wooden chair and a sharp metal hook conveniently placed on the ceiling.

No longer feeling any joy out of life, he connected the pieces together and formed a deadly idea...

Player: Guess I can do at least one last useful thing...

He made sure preparations were set, ensuring his dead set plan came full circle.

Finding some spare green tinted scissors in one of the wide open side drawers, he fully unhooked the thick rope and manifested a noose, the perfect size to fit a head around, around one end and proceeded to latch the other end on to the top of the hook, creating a knot to keep it in place.

He then grabbed the wooden chair and dragged it along the dusty floorboards to just below where the rope was attached, and made a piercing brush sound, like nails to a chalkboard.

He no longer found a purpose in life...

He was just a burden to the human population...born to become a looming disaster...

He wanted to die...

Player: Take out the trash...

He carefully stood on top of the chair, surprised at how out of every single piece of furniture, it was the one thing that supported his whole weight.

He grabbed the noose and fitted it over his oval shaped head and well-worn beanie. He ensured it was tight enough to strangle his neck, when he committed to his suicide.

He kept the scissors in his pockets just in case the hook would break loose from the ceiling and he resorted to being brave enough to slice his own neck.

Player: Well...looks like this is goodbye...

He took one last glimpse towards his prized photos he treasured for decades and a stray tear trickled down his visor as he said his final goodbyes.

He knew this would be painful, but it wouldn't last long...

Player: I'm sorry...I failed you...

He finally kicked the chair away from him, leaving nothing but a few metre distance between him and the solid ground.

He closed his visor and awaited the sweet embrace of death to take him away to the afterlife...

A/n: 😬

Holy moly. First time writing a story like this and wanted to go out with a bang. Lemme know what you think so far.