"Weak!? I have all my strength and you've already lost an arm. Your sword is barely even sharp. I doubt you can even cut butter with it!"
"Well why don't you test your theory!"
I push forward on the small lever of my controller as Y/N does the same. Both of our characters on the television screen collide together and start to battle. She wasn't wrong when she said that my sword was bad, and this poor choice of weaponry results in me losing our duel.
"Yeah!" Y/N's hands shoot up from the chair as she attempts to stand, but ends up falling back to the couch with a small thump. I feel like she forgets sometimes about how she's not completely healed yet and still unable to walk currently.
"I'm not doing the bet," I huff and blow a piece of hair from my face. We made a bet beforehand that the loser had to prank call Tyler as a hospital employee and tell him that Jenna's pregnancy visit results came back positive. It was my idea, but now I regret it seeing how immature it is and imagining Tyler fainting at the news. This scenario is just as clear as imagining his fist flying through my skull when he realizes it's a prank.
"Fine," Y/N sets her controller down on the coffee table. "I have to get ready for therapy anyway. Can you get my wheelchair?" I walk over and grab the chair from behind her seat and help her sit down in it. I take both of our coats and we head for the door.
Fifteen minutes later I'm back at home yet again in utter silence and loneliness. This has been happening a lot recently and I've almost grown accustomed to it.
Ugh silence.
I can't even think of that word without getting chills down my spine. It brings back too many traumatizing memories from the past. And what hurts even more is the thought of those horrible events occurring once more.
Emotional.
Who is this said Emotional? For the past three days, they've done nothing but send me one photo per day. It's creeping me out, but at least it isn't threats like what Mark did. Yet.
As I throw myself on my bed, I have a deep, inward feeling that this is just their warm up round. They say they are more dangerous than Mark was, which terrifies me beyond my own comprehension.
I pull my phone out and scroll through the three photos they've sent.
Day one:
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Day two:
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Day three:
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White roses. It makes no sense but I've grown to learn in these past few months that absolutely nothingfrom these messages is pure coincidence.
White. A symbol of innocence, purity, sympathy...
True, peaceful love.
I shake my head. Something so pure and heartfelt coming from Emotional disturbs me. It makes me aware that this is just another game and that things will only go downhillfrom here. How can it get worse than last time? How can something become worse than death itself?
I feel my phone vibrate in my palms as the messages refresh. A new one pops up.
E-M-O-T-I-O-N-A-L: somethingcan only be worse than death...
E-M-O-T-I-O-N-A-L: once it's become death itself.
E-M-O-T-I-O-N-A-L: Get ready, Joshua. You're in for a hell of a ride with me.
_ A/N
Hello! This story is the sequel/continuation of Fairly Local | Josh Dun x Reader. If youhaven't read the original, wtf are you doing here not one damn thing is gonna make sense to you.
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the nextinstallment of this story! Also, I'll try to make it more romantic thanthe last since there was BARELY any in FL.
Boy are you guys in for a trip with this one. You thought FL was cryptic lmao. By the end of this book you might as well call me Tyler Joseph.