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🛑 TW : injuries, blood, obsessive/possessive behavior, slight manipulation, mentions of suicide.
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" OH DREAAAM." the sound of pillow cases tearing apart made a loud sound, cotton fluttering in the air. a bat lashed out, slamming a tv until part of it broke off the wall, its glass screen breaking and clinging onto the floor. "you motherfucker. where are you!?" the voice screamed out throughout the empty house [just a heads up: some characters own multiple properties so dream usually lives at the apartment with george and sapnap but he also owns his own house], all of the lights turned off, the only source being moonlight from a full moon coming out from the bedroom window.
upon walking into view, king panted at the damage he did around the room [a second time parallel], gripping at his baseball bat in his dominant hand, veins popping out and trailing up his arms. he took one last survey of the room, seeing damaged items littering the floor before staring back out the window. his eyes fixated on the city streets in the very distance. for a moment, nothing was happening, the cityscape unaltered, immobile. that was until a small dot began moving within king's vision.
upon further inspection, snapping out of his trance, his pupils followed the street until he captured that familiar motorcycle, seeing your figure riding on the back of it. that made his muscles and teeth clench, a vengeful anger sizzling instead of him. "i will fuck you up." king said under his breath, turning away and walking out of the room in a brisk pace.
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IT WAS EARLY 2 AM, taking a stroll down the city streets. nothing felt right though. the only image that was vivid and plastered in your mind was wilbur jumping, plunging to his death. the surface of your cheeks were already dry from crying, your throat still husky. the streets provided you with nothing but cold air, shrouding you within colder memories.
street lamps would flicker once in a while, lights from skyscraper windows were unaltered, and the alleyways felt way more desolate than ever before, all these qualities clashing to develop a silent environment in the middle of a usually bustling city that for the first time made you feel absolutely isolated. your stomach felt like it could never drop again. your mind felt like it could never think again. it was the first time you had such a mind boggling experience that it literally took everything out of you.
you were an apparition—cold, empty, and walking down cleared up sidewalks, contributing nothing meaningful to the earth's soil while the world continued to spin on its axis without you. before you could continue down the street further, a figure stumbled out of the alleyway, almost falling in front of you. you backed away, frightened and ready to fight or flee, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "wait! wait! wait! y/n! it's okay!" his voice rang out. "it's me!" your eyebrows furrowed before raising. "alex!?" you yelled out, your eyes scanning over him.
"yeah! that's me!" quackity said, attempting to sound cheerful despite the fact that under the street light, his slightly modified facial features became more prominent: his face was absolutely busted, having a black eye on his left, and his right eye swollen, red and barely able to open. there was blood running from his nose, and complementing that were nasty bruises and mini cuts all over his face, especially near his cheeks and eyes, making your eyes water more in pure terror. "alex.. what happened to you?" you asked breathlessly, getting closer to him with worried doe eyes and holding the sides of his head cautiously, fingers grazing the fabric of his beanie.
"y/n.. please.. you need to get out of here. like out of this goddamn city." quackity warned, swallowing and catching his breath in between sentences. "why?" you asked, your eyes looking between his left and right eye. "you know who did this to me? king did. he beat the shit out of me, thinking you were with me, and i'm scared shitless for you. i don't know who's gonna go after you, y/n." quackity said, his voice cracking at the end. his gaze flickered down briefly, grabbing both of your hands in his and squeezing them.
"please promise me you'll stay safe. that you'll get out of here." quackity commanded, feeling that he was about to cry, his voice wavering, left eye becoming as glossy as yours. you took the information in with wide eyes, gulping nervously. you felt your knees slightly shaking below you, breathing faster and faster while you continued staring over quackity's face. what is going to happen to me? you thought. "Y/N! don't listen to him." another voice butted in, making the two of you turn towards the street behind you.
"he's trying to get you away from the things you love. you shouldn't trust him." george came out from the shadows, finally showing his features from under the street lights. "he wants you to leave. he wants you to get away so he could find you first. do you really think you can trust someone who quit the industry? who wants to hurt you?" george emphasized, advancing slowly towards the two of you one step at a time.
you stared into his eyes to see his pupils fighting for dilation, his eyes appearing clinically insane. you've never seen this side of him. what was scarier was the fact that he was holding a clean kitchen knife in his dominant hand, it's silver color of the blade giving off a metallic gleam in the light. quackity furrowed his eyebrows, letting go of your hands and clenching his fists in anger. he carefully took you by the waist, moving you so that you were behind him. he stood in front of you in a protective stance, leaning forward slightly with his fists ready.
"what in the fuck are you gonna do to them, george?" quackity barked out with a menacing tone, feeling his fists shaking from how hard he was squeezing at them. you watched from behind quackity, peering over his shoulder to see george's eye twitch briefly, his fingers wrapping around the knife's handle tighter. "get. away. from them. now." george sneered. "final warning, alexis." "NO!" quackity yelled, being the first to leap forward on his heels, charging with all his strength and tackling george to the ground.
the two of them wrestled on the street, quackity attempting to grip george's arm—which was holding a knife—away from him to avoid further injury. in the midst of the brawl, quackity briefly turned to you. "RUN, Y/N! RUN!" he screamed out, snapping a reaction out of you. your adrenaline hit every fiber of your body, prompting you to get quick on your feet and make a beeline towards an escape within the series of winding roads and alleyways and towering skyscrapers that congested the area, practically tied to the ground.
the street is your track, and you are the runner. before quackity could get another hard punch in, george managed to grasp the upper hand, coiling around quackity's leg and taking him down. george stood up and quickly kicked quackity's sides and stomach as hard as possible, making him scream out in pain. that's when george turned down the street, his footsteps tempting to follow yours.
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A/N.
WHEN AUTHOR SPEAKS.
this chapter be a fat parallelism to the events in gardener. you better fucking run y/n
w.c.: 1.2k+