Time passed quickly, too quickly. The morning of the last day before the fights had arrived, and you were not looking forward to what awaited you. Yesterday was spent mostly reviewing what you already knew, you worked a bit more on hand-to-hand before returning to the baseball bat. The bat turned out to be more useful than one might think, it being good for both offense and defense. It was pretty light as well, allowing you to swing it whichever way you needed without it dragging you down. You were impressed by how quickly you had picked up your newly acquired skills, but you couldn't find much joy in it because of what it was meant to be used for. Tomorrow you'd be asked to bash in your friend's skulls. You couldn't do that. You knew you couldn't, but you also knew they wouldn't take no for an answer.
You sighed before pushing yourself up and stretching a bit, your joints producing a satisfying crack. You looked over to Hoodie who sat on the edge of his bed watching you silently, like usual. Yesterday was strange, stranger than most days considering you were in a mansion full of serial killers. Hoodie had barely spoken, most of the time just staring at you, and since you couldn't see his face, you had no idea what was going through his head. Yeah, he had a habit of staring, but he was doing it a lot more than he used to. You weren't sure what was going on with him, but you assumed it probably had something to do with the fights that were happening tomorrow, which you were very worried about as well. But something told you that you didn't share the same worries as him.
You had no idea what to expect tomorrow. Were they going to make you all fight each other at once, or would you be paired off? If so, who was fighting who? You were afraid. You had no control over the situation, and now you were stuck, and so was everyone else. Death was hovering over you like a dark cloud, and it would rain down its wrath in only a few hours. Whether you'd die or one of your friends would, it didn't make much of a difference. Someone was probably going to die tomorrow, it was just a matter of who.
Hoodie suddenly stood up and walked over to his closet, which was now kept locked, and took out the black metal baseball bat you were meant to use.
"Come on." He ordered as he glanced back down at you before heading to the door. You quickly got up and followed after him.
You were led through the hallway and down the stairs, the same path you had been down so many times before. Everything seemed to repeat, but tomorrow that would change. Tomorrow would change a lot of things, none of which you were looking forward to. You were brought into the familiar kitchen where Hoodie simply poured you a bowl of cereal and told you to sit down. He got himself his usual protein bar, though it was chocolate flavored this time, and sat beside you, which was also new. Instead of standing behind you not saying a word, he'd now sit beside you, though he still didn't speak. You supposed it didn't matter much, but it certainly made you curious.
You ate slowly, only nibbling on each spoonful of the cereal you were instructed to eat. Your appetite was nonexistent, your stomach hurting with worries rather than hunger. Every time you thought of tomorrow and the bloodbath it could turn out to be, you felt nauseous. You weren't sure what you were going to do yet, your options were to either let them kill you or fight, but you didn't want to do either. You didn't want to be a part of this stupid game, you just wanted to return to your shared townhouse and go back to researching poltergeists. Everything was fine then. Everything was fine until your group moved on to researching Slenderman. Had you have known what would have happened, you wouldn't have even dared to speak its name, let alone roam its forests aimlessly. You had made so many mistakes, and now you had to deal with the fatal consequences.
Hoodie cleared his throat to get your attention and tilted his head a bit, seemingly urging you to eat faster. You sighed before complying, shoveling the rest of the cereal into your mouth. After a couple of minutes, you pushed the empty bowl away which Hoodie took and put in the sink. Without having to even be asked, you got up and pushed your chair in, preparing to be led outside for what could be your final lesson.
He gave you a short nod before heading out of the kitchen, to which you followed closely behind him. It wasn't long before you stood at the side of the mansion. The place your training had started, and the place it might end. Hoodie handed you your weapon and backed up a couple of feet.
"We're going to spar," he suddenly informed you as he got into his fighting stance. You nodded a bit as you prepared yourself. Fighting him, whether real or not, probably wasn't going to go too well.
Not giving you a second more to think, he rushed forward and aimed a punch to your chin. Your eyes widened as you ducked just in time to see his fist harshly colliding with nothing but air. You sprang back up, immediately swinging your bat to his gut, but he easily caught it and shoved both it and you backward. You stumbled as you tried to regain your balance, your mind racing as you tried to come up with a strategy that could work against him. To your relief, Hoodie seemed to be waiting for you to strike back against him. Was he going easy on you? Definitely.
You gritted your teeth as you ran towards him, your bat ready to hit his knees and hopefully knock him over. Unfortunately, it seemed like he knew exactly what you were doing and simply stepped away. You swung into nothing, and before you could whip around to face him, he grabbed your wrist, forcing you to drop the bat. Now without a weapon, he easily forced your arms behind your back and held you in place.
You tried to pull away, but he didn't let go. Your heart pounded in your chest as you panted to catch your breath, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.
"You're easy to beat," he began, his deep voice that used to frighten you right next to your ear. "But you should be fine against the others." And with that he let you go.
You turned around and looked at him with genuine surprise. You felt nervous yet somewhat relieved by his reassurance. Could you actually win? Did you even want to win? You were unsure of many things at the moment, and your sudden feeling of comfort around Hoodie wasn't helping. You were confused, even more confused than you had been when you were first dragged to this pit of hell that they called a house. So many thoughts and emotions ran through your head, you couldn't even form a sentence. Every time you tried to speak the words just got caught in your throat, and whether you sputtered out something incoherent or not, you eventually gave up and just resorted to silence.
Luckily, Hoodie didn't seem to be very bothered by that, his mind spinning just as yours was. He was equally as confused, though he probably had far less to worry about than you did. But unfortunately, your worries were the same as his if it'd cost you your life and him the bet, yet the bet hadn't crossed his mind in quite some time.
Hours passed, though you had no idea how many. Your body felt heavy, and eventually, Hoodie decided to stop training for the day. Or for the rest of your potentially short life.
Your usual routine was followed, get yanked back into the mansion, take a shower, return to the room, and fall asleep, or at least try to. With your mind as occupied as it was, sleep was the last thing you were thinking about. The fights were tomorrow. The day that you had been hoping wouldn't ever come was now a day that was only hours from happening. You were terrified of what might happen, what you might become. But you were out of time, completely out of time, and at this point, hopeless.
Tomorrow you'd fight the people you were closest to, and there was nothing you could do to stop that from happening.
The next day you woke up to find yourself alone in the room. Hoodie's bed was left empty and made, while the curtains were open and letting in the light from the sunrise. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, your fingers feeling like ice. You shivered and tugged your sleeves over your hands as you stood up. It was quiet, unsettlingly so. Looking out the window, it seemed like nature had even gotten the hint of how terrible of a day this would be. The forest seemed void of life, dead leaves falling from trees and the ground looking dry. No animals could be seen, not even the birds that commonly sang their morning tunes. It seemed empty, just like you did.
Your ears began to ring as a dull throb spread from your temples. Why had this happened to you? Why you? Why your group? Why hadn't they just killed you all? It certainly would have made their lives easier. So why, why did they do this? Why gamble on who could survive murdering their friends the longest? Was it entertainment, just something for them to do? Was this just because they were bored? You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell everything you had felt during your time here until your throat was raw and the only sound you could make was a croak, though that was already more sound than you could produce currently. You just wanted to go home, leave all of this behind and live a normal life again.
But that clearly wasn't an option. You were trapped, and you had been this entire time whether you wanted to believe that or not. There was never any way you were going to escape, and you saw that now. The only way out of this was death. Death was your only exit, and you'd just have to wait until it finally came to claim your life.
Then the door opened, and in walked the man that only seemed to leave you with questions that you'd never get the answers to. Hoodie, one of Slenderman's infamous proxies. A man who was known for his signature muted yellow hoodie, blue jeans, and a black frowning ski mask. A man whose room you had lived in for nearly two weeks, and a man who had left you in both physical and mental agony on two separate occasions. Yet you felt the most comfort in this mansion when you were around him than when you were not.
But as he spoke, your eyes widened and your jaw fell.
"You're fighting Sadie."
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