𝘎𝘢𝘯𝘱𝘰π˜ͺ𝘯𝘡.

By Lizzelette

8K 272 147

It's the late 1900s. Reports of crimes have been swirling around the famously large city of L'manburg, leavin... More

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𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 1
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 2
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 3
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 4
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 6
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 7
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 8
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 9
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 9 (𝘱𝘒𝘳𝘡 𝘡𝘸𝘰)
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 10
𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 11

𝘊𝘩𝘒𝘱𝘡𝘦𝘳 5

518 22 17
By Lizzelette

Authors's note: AYOOO CHAPTER 5 IS FINALLY HERE! IT WAS MAINLY RUSHED IM SO SORRY LOL I only worked on it just now. I've been having homework thrown at me. I guess this doesn't matter much because not much people are even interested in reading this fanfic anyway lol.

_____________________________________

No. It couldn't have been real. It was all too weird. Like a fever dream. A dream Alex Quackity could not control.

"Quackity, my good friend!" The peculiar man smiled. He inched closer to Quackity, his footsteps ringing in the detectives ears over the sound of racing cars on the big road just next to them.

(T/W mention of g^n)
"Who are you?" The detective cautiously yelled as he pulled out a pistol, reloaded it and pointed it at the suspicious brunette.
(T/W ends)

"It's me." The brunette smiled. He was now so close that Quackity could feel his warm breathe on his skin.

"And you're going to have a sticky end like everyone else, Mr. Detective." The mysterious man smiled, sending chills down Alex's spine. He felt cold.

And it happened like a flashing light. It flickered. And everything went black.

_____________________________________

Quackity woke up in his own bed, shaking in horror. What had just happened? Was this all just a dream?

(T/W mention of bl00d)

He stared at his hands. They were sort of blood stained. Dried up red now brown liquid was stuck on his fingers like crusty slime. Gross.

(T/W ends)

He gagged and jumped off his bed, and hurried off to the bathroom where he washed his hands over the sink. The warm water felt nice on his fingers. He enjoyed the moment.

Then, to his shock, there was a note taped on Quackity's mirror. Curious, the detective took the note and read it.

"Dear Alex,
I am leaving this here. I want to tell you that it must've been too much, the scene, circumstance and all. I terribly apologize for whatever you have to deal with at work on a daily. I wish you the best, and I'll be visiting you soon.
Love, your friend, Wilbur Soot" 

It was written in the messiest form of writing the noirette had ever seen. He shook his head in disappointment. So, was it all real? Did he actually get pushed into the road? He had questions and was hoping people had answers.

Suddenly, He felt a stabbing pain. Not in his stomach, but his head. Alex clutched his head in pain as he rushed out of the bathroom with the note, shut the light and went to lay down on his bed. He was still wearing his work clothes.

He sighed for the millionth time. His head felt heavy. He leaned on some soft white pillows and began to think. He was not the type of man to catch a break whenever he felt like it, he did things even when he wasn't in the state to. He has always been a thinker. And nobody could change that no matter how much they bribed him to rest.

Quackity then heard a knock on his apartment door. Wondering who that could be, the detective limped off his bed and tried to sprint(which looked like he was a zombie or something) to the door.

"Alex? You there? It's me!"

_______

Yes. Excuse the mistakes in this chapter lol I rushed so much.

Word count: 555

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