The Slash Fic part 2 which is apparently slowly turning into Simping For All Of Them but that’s fine
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You wake a couple of times before you manage to stay up.
The first time, you were barely conscious. You heard voices, though they sounded like they’re underwater and you can’t really understand them. You remember being slung over someone’s shoulder and being in pain. You were jostled as the person walked and apparently made some kind of noise, because they seemed to address you before you passed out again. You think you heard something like ‘we’ll be there soon’ before you went.
The second time you were in a strange room, and a familiar figure was wrapping your arm.
“Oh. Morning. Nice of you to wake up.” She’d grinned at you. You still couldn’t see very well, but you recognized Cross’s voice.
“How ya feeling?”
You’d only blinked at her, and then looked down at your arm. You tried to say it hurts but all you could manage was incoherent mumbling.
“…Yeaaah. You might have a concussion,” she didn’t seem to have been talking to you. “Not surprising, you fell down a whole set of stairs. I’m more surprised you’re not dead, honestly.”
Your vision began to dim again, and her voice faded back out, as she mumbled to herself about having a person with a concussion in the maze wouldn’t be as fun.
Finally, you wake up in a makeshift bed made of cardboard boxes, with an old pillow and blanket. It’s…not comfortable.
The room is pretty bare, aside from you and your bed. There’s a plain grey clock on the wall, which tells you it’s either about midday or midnight. There’s a cooler on the opposite side of the room. The door is just a plate of metal with a handle. You don’t seem to be in a house of any kind. The room doesn’t seem to be a cell, either.
There’s a vaguely familiar woman sitting by your guest bed, sharpening a pocket knife. The mismatched red and yellow eyes would be recognizable on any human, but on a dark-skinned lady covered in scars, they stand out a bit more.
Error doesn’t look like she’s been in as many fights as Nightmare and Cross, but she tends to prefer incapacitating her targets from a distance before going in for the kill. Or at least, that’s what the news stations think. No one who’s actually seen them in action has lived to tell the tale. All anyone has to go off of is the fact that some of their victims are found hanging by their feet from trees or balconies, and she’s the only one who has bright blue magic cables, but it’s a fair assumption.
She notices you wake up and grins at you. A sharp grin that tells you you’re in danger.
“Well. Look who decided to face reality again.” She twirls her knife in her hand and stands. “You’ve been asleep for a while.”
Your mouth feels cemented shut, but you manage to say, “Where…am I?”
Error flicks her knife shut and puts it in her pocket. “You’re in our warehouse!” She says, spreading her arms wide. “We turned it into a death maze. It’s going to be great. You’re going to hate it.” She grins more. “But before we get to that, Cross has been in charge of making sure you heal up from your tumble down those stairs, so I gotta tell her you’re up. Do me a favor and try to at least say hi.”
“…and if I don’t?”
She flicks her hand. Before you can blink, there are blue strings coming from her hands and wrapped around your neck.
“I kill you.”
The strings aren’t tight enough to hurt you. But they are tight enough to warn you.
Just as quickly as they’d appeared, the strings vanish. Error chuckles and picks her phone up from the floor where she’d been sitting.
As she dials her friend’s number, she says, “I should also let you know that we took your phone, and your watch, and everything else on you that could potentially be used to call for help.”
After a few rings, Cross picks up.
“‘Yellow,” comes Cross’s voice.
“They’re awake.”
“Yepic.”
Error holds out the phone to you. “Say hi.”
You gulp and do your best to keep the terrified stutter out of your voice.
“Oh you’re coherent and everything too?” Cross sounds surprised. Then excited. “Hell yeah. How are you feeling?”
You don’t want to answer, but Error’s gaze tells you that it would be safer to keep talking.
“Um…okay? Ph-physically, that is.”
“How’s your arm?”
You look down at your other. You’d forgotten that you broke it falling down the stairs.
“It feels fine right now,” you say.
“And your head?”
You reach up and feel the linen bandage wrapped around your head. “The bandages are…kind of tight.”
“Well, I had to make sure it would stop bleeding,” she says dismissively. “You ever seen someone get a cut on their head? It bleeds a lot. Even if it’s just a tiny little knick. And you nearly busted your head open, so I also had to take into account your skull possibly being cracked.”
“Do…do you wrap broken bones often?”
“Nah, usually Error does that,” she says casually. “I usually just set the bones. But yeah, we have to do most of our medical care, since there’s not a hospital in the multiverse that would admit us.”
“…how would that work out if you needed surgery?”
“It wouldn’t,” Errors snorts. “So we’re careful.”
“Very!” Cross agrees. “That’s why we don’t jump at walls in dark, unfamiliar, multistory houses.”
You glare at the phone. Not that it’ll do much.
Error laughs. “They’re giving you a dirty look.”
“Okay but it was stupid,” Cross states. “You realize that, right?”
“It was either that or get cut in half!” You snap.
“Which would’ve been a much quicker and less painful death than the one you’re about to get!” Cross says cheerfully. “I’ll get Night, we’ll be there in a few minutes. Then I can do a full check up on our new friend and see if they’re ready to play in the maze with us.”
You do not like how she said that.
“See you then,” Error says, like she’s just talking to friends about hanging out for a game night. She hangs up the phone. “You’re going to be fun,” she decides, looking you over. “You want anything to eat? Or some water or something?”
You don’t feel like eating. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, though, and your throat does feel rather parched.
“Just…some water please,” you say. She opens the cooler and pulls out a cold bottle of water. She tosses it to you, and you barely manage to catch it with your good hand. You jostle your broken arm in the process. You hiss in pain.
“Oops. My bad.” She doesn’t sound very sorry.
You sip on the water, trying to ignore Error humming the Smash Bro’s theme as she examines her now very sharp knife, until the door creaks open. Cross comes in, along with Nightmare, the man who’d been at the desk at the motel you’d foolishly decided to stay at, against your instincts.
You’d always imagined he’d be big and burly, but he was more on the small side. Short and spindly, but with enough visible muscle that you knew he could easily overpower you. His purple eyes were curious, but cold. He was a natural killer, and you could tell just by looking at him.
Cross was more like you imagined. Big and strong looking, and covered in scars. You hadn’t really gotten a good look at her before. She was pale; that much you remembered. And you remembered that red eye. The other was white. You’d never seen a human with a white iris before. Then again, you’d never seen a human with red eyes. Or purple eyes.
Nightmare’s carrying a plastic shopping bag with what look like medical supplies.
Cross comes forward and crouches next to your bed. “You seem alright,” she muses. “Here, try to follow my finger with just your eyes.”
You’re not entirely sure the point of this test, but you manage. Your eyes hurt for some reason, but you can follow her finger just fine.
“Good. You probably don’t have any serious brain injuries, then.”
“Probably??”
She shrugs. “We’re not doctors. We just do what we can.”
That’s fair, you decide. You still don’t like that.
Cross does a few more tests on you, then checks over your arm, and then unwraps your head bandage and examines your head injury.
She hums thoughtfully. You’re trying your best to sit still, but every instinct is yelling at you to get as far away from her as possible. She was being very gentle with you, but that didn’t make you relax.
“You seem to be in pretty good shape,” she says finally, backing up. “Night, can you-“
“Yep.” Nightmare pulls out a fresh wrap bandage and tosses it to Cross, who catches it flawlessly. She re-wraps your head, making it just as tight as before.
“There!” She pats your shoulder and you flinch. “You should be good. Just a little bit of food and rest and then we can throw you in the maze.”
“Why do you even have a death maze?” You ask without thinking. The Meme Squad all turned to you and you shrank back.
Nightmare snickered. “You don’t have to be that scared of us yet,” he says. You do not like that smile.
Error points at you with her knife casually. “As you might’ve noticed, we’re a bunch of nerds. We found this abandoned warehouse, so we made it into a maze that looks like the backrooms.” She tilts her head to the side. “You know what the Backrooms are, right?”
“Y…yeah. You clip through reality and go to a never ending maze that may or may not be full of monsters?”
“Exactly.”
Nightmare crosses his arms. “Our maze only has a metaphorical kind of monsters. It would be really fun to watch some freaky thing chase you down, though.”
You shift uncomfortably.
All you wanted was to go visit your friends. Why did you have to get caught be these psychopaths??
“What do want to eat, by the way?” Cross asks. “And don’t say ‘nothing.’ You have to eat something.”
“You’re being awfully hospitable for serial killers who are going to chase me through their backrooms-themed death maze.”
“Well it won’t be any fun if you can’t run.”
“What’s the point of running?” You ask. “Is there even a way out?”
Nightmare grins. “There is, actually. The entrance and exit to the maze is the front door of the warehouse.”
“Anyway,” Cross says, snapping her fingers in your direction. “Food?”
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