Chapter Text
Originally, he was going to turn away. Especially as soon as he'd seen that book- warning him of what was going to happen. Yet still, somehow against his better judgement he had turned. Continued walking through the tunnel, and that singular turn. Walking into the abyss wasn't a smart move on his part, but something called his name. Twisted his curiosity to pull him closer in, to compel his feet to move, and look where that got him. Running with quickened breathes, messily scrawling into the book with haste. He didn't know how much longer he had, his head pounded with the knowledge he was given. Every moment reliving the twisting tormenting shapes, words, and colors. All combining into an incomprehensible mess of information, overloading his sense and making his vision blurry. Was he crying? He couldn't quite tell. He quickly closed out the world and shutdown his laptop, not even bothering to grab anything before he ran out of his house.
D3rlord3, or Darius, had disappeared within a single night. Without a trace.
When Avery had bought that old storage unit, he hadn't really thought much of it. He had originally bought it just for the sake of having something to do. After all, being a stable guy in your 20's could quickly get repetitive. So he bought it. of course, the majority of it was just random junk with dust. Dusty books, dusty bookshelves, dusty desk, you get the point. Although, when he found the old laptop - also dusty - he had gotten quite excited. And finding the cord with it?- was like striking gold for him. It's not his fault he's a bit of nerd! Although the green hair and glasses probably didn't help it. So, he brought it home and booted it up. Overjoyed that it had even started up, he quickly got to working. He accessed the laptop easily. Only a few games were installed, some random files, just basic stuff, but no accounts. Odd, but not unusual for an old laptop, and this one seemed to be at least 7 years old, at least since it's creation.
He began to browse through the games and applications, before stopping to look at the Minecraft in thought. It stood out compared to the other games for some reason, and so he clicked on it. The game quickly begin to boot up. Although, unsurprisingly, the game took more than a couple minutes, buffering, before fully-loading the game. It was as normal as any other Minecraft game, so he decided to log into his account and play for a while. After quickly signing in, he clicked play, before pausing briefly at the Minecraft world already there. He looked at it oddly, before clicking play on the world.
'Ehhhh, whatever.' He thought to himself. 'What harm could it bring?' He reasoned, waiting as the world started to load. The game quickly loaded, and Avery began to explore. It was pretty normal world. Occasionally finding some builds and bases. Seems like someone used to spend a bit of time in this world. Overwhelmingly, it was normal. Nothing out of the ordinary, even walking down into the mine was perfectly fine. It was interesting to see a world that had clearly been loved. Like looking into a sneak peak of the past of someone's life.
Interest, however, quickly changed into concern as his eyes scanned over the words written in the book and quill. I mean, who wouldn't at least be concerned seeing their own name written in a book left on a laptop from random storage shed he decided to buy on a whim? Avery hadn't quite known what to do with this information, so he decided to share it on his Youtube channel. He doesn't use it too much. You know, just the occasional Skywars gameplay. That was pretty much it. He left at that, before continuing to explore the world. Keeping the strange message in mind, but moving on from it. The thought of something in this game knowing of his existence, even foreshadowing him being there, scared him. Just a little, after all, in the end it was just a game. What's the worse that could happen?
After a while spent exploring and checking out the laptop, he decided that it was time to go do something actually productive.
Avery got up from his desk, taking a short moment to stretch and brush off his dorky gaming t-shirt, before heading towards his kitchen. His apartment was small, on the third floor of a complex. One bedroom, one bath, a pull-out couch, and a small kitchenette. When he was originally looking for apartments, it was the only one that had even cornered the market for his price range, as well as it seemed to be the nicest. As well as it was pet friendly, and that's pretty much how he ended up here, living on his own, working IT for some shitty company that probably could give two fucks what he does with his free time. At least he gets paid pretty well.
His socks pad against the vinyl flooring of his kitchen, his cat- Wink, a one-eyed rescue -rubbing against his grey stained sweatpants. He grabs a cup of noodles and begins to preheat some water, before going to his couch and turning on the TV. Wink quickly claiming a place on his lap.
"Fat butt cat." Avery spoke aloud, as he often does in the calm of his apartment, before beginning to pet Wink. "Ohhhh, You're such a hamm- Aren't you??" He said in a cutesy voice, basically just giving attention to the orange cat. Soon, a ding across the room sounded off, a small hissing sound audible in the living area. Avery gets up- pausing and yelping as Wink claws him -then begins to head to the kitchen once more. Offhandedly listening to the news running on the TV.
Grabbing his now finished noodles, he sits back down listening to the news.
"Gah, fricking miserable news man, always something terrible- even though that's kind of the point." He speaks to himself, before switching the channel to some sort of horror movie. He sets down the remote and leans back into the couch, loudly slurping his noodles. He glances outside, snow beginning to fall outside on his porch. It had been getting colder recently, the start of winter. The movie continues to play in the background as he continues to stare at the snowflakes contrasting in the dark night. Avery sets his ramen down on the coffee table, standing up before shutting his blinds. Shrugging his shoulders and getting back to the movie.
As the movie continued to play, Avery felt more and more intrigued. It was about the Paris catacombs, and a double world or something. He wasn't paying too much attention at the beginning, but as the movie went on, he began to feel more and more unsettled. He swallowed thickly before turning the TV off, deciding that was enough for tonight. He threw his noodle cup away, and the fork in the sink before heading back into his bedroom, wink quickly following.
He flopped down into his bed. Although he didn't do much today, he felt oddly exhausted today. His eyes wandered over to his desk, landing on the old laptop. He stared for a couple of minutes before getting up and opening up, quickly booting up the Minecraft application once more.
Darius, or formerly known as D3rlord3, was smart.
Graduated top of his class, got into a good college. Almost a full ride too. He took pride in the fact he was deemed as smart, and he took pride in remaining seen as smart. However, this was not smart. He knew it wasn't, after all, running from your problems isn't a smart way to deal with them. Yet, he ran anyway. The night was dark, and rainy, and driving through it, while driving like a bat out of hell, wasn't smart either. He hadn't known exactly what to make of the whole situation. It was just a game, it shouldn't be affecting him like this. Why is he doing this? His head aches with the feeling of too much, yet too little. It's so hard to understand what's going on in his mind. Yet at the same time, it's so easy to understand, every little thing.
Why? He knows why. He knows everything- and he's not even exaggerating, well maybe a little, but he knows a shit ton. Unfortunately.
When he had originally began exploring, whatever the fuck that Minecraft world was, he hadn't expect himself to be driving away from everything he's ever known not even 2 hours later.
All because of those damn left turns. He's never doing that again, ever.
He continues driving in the dead of night, no destination in mind, just running, and hoping to get away from that.. Thing. Deep down, he knows his efforts are fruitless.
He ends up in some random-ass town in the middle of nowhere, large enough to hide him, but small enough people probably won't even hear about it in their lifetime. Unless they live there. He arrives around 10 in the morning, too exhausted to continue driving. His eyes feel heavy, as does his entire body. D3rlord3 rolls into the small parking lot of a shitty rundown motel. Perfect. He scavenges through his dirty car for enough cash to stay the night.
He walks in, feeling as if his head couldn't possibly get any worse, dragging his limbs into the small lobby. He barely even glances around just putting his money silently on the counter and waiting for the receptionist to give him his key. He glances at her, brown hair with highlights, blue eyes, very concerned blue eyes. She eyes him before just handing over the key, clearly not paid enough to actually care about this random guy who looks like he's a foot away from death's door. His hands grasp around the key, looking at the number before heading back out silently.
He slams the key into the keyhole, turning before pushing into the musty smelling motel room. he quickly looks around the room, before closing the door behind him swiftly, locking all the locks and then closing the shitty blinds. He sets his shoes right in front of the door, before quickly flopping into the bed, ignoring the increase of dust and cigarette smell in the room.
"Fuck." He say aloud, before getting up and going to the bathroom to wash his face. He looks around the bathroom, quickly intaking all of the details. He'll need to do that with the bedroom as well, he can't let anything slip past him. Not now, and maybe not ever again. Anything could be a sign of.. His presence. He sighs into the mirror, looking at the bags beneath his eyes, the pallor of his usually tanned skin. "Fuck!" He slams his fist into the sink, so deeply wanting to hit his own brain. He turns on the faucet, letting the sound of the water pouring drown out the quiet, and the whispers. He shoves his face into the water, washing his face, trying to scrub away the paranoia, the knowledge, everything. It does little to satiate the pounding feeling behind his eyes, the vile feeling of thousands of words, faces, scenes, and shapes all invading his mind at once. He sways slightly, feeling nauseous, before ending up in front of the toilet, puking his guts into the bowl. His vision sways, flashes of so many different things, all too much at once. He focuses once again on the disgusting throw-up in the toilet he's currently bent over. It looks yellow.
His breathing quickens, before he scrambles to flush the toilet, scrambling away from it with hands over his mouth once more. He barely pauses to turn the faucet off before going back into the bedroom. He tries to stave off the panic by focusing on what he needs to do, to get, to survive, to make it through this. That's what he's good at, planning, strategizing, and then executing. No matter what happens, he needs to live, he cannot let that... that THING, pervade his mind. He was too prideful to give up now.
Despite his still shaking hands, and pounding head, he quickly got to work. Going off of pretty much nothing, and completely ignoring his earlier exhaustion he searches the room for practically anything that could be of use to him. Continuously ignoring the whispers, ignoring the feeling of being watched once more, this time, it's not a game, and this time, he knows what he needs to do.
Darius continues to keep on the move, his money dwindling quickly, but he knows where he needs to go. He knows who he needs to find. No matter how long it takes. Which is why he is currently working a shitty night shift at a random bar, in a random town, halfway across the country from his hometown. He cleans the empty glass, staring at it blankly. It's late enough the bar is almost completely empty except for a few stragglers. Most likely wanderers just like him. He looks at his reflection, staring into his own eyes, for a glimpse he sees them glow a beautiful gold, before he swiftly drops the glass and scrambles into the back bar in fear. His startlement draws the attention of an older man, beard and eyes heavy with age. He doesn't say anything but stares at him in silence for a few moments.
"Gonna clean that up?" He speaks, voice scratchy with clear use of cigarettes and different things over the many years. "You ain't supposed to just let it sit there ya'know. Could hurt someone." He continues. D3rlord3 looks up at him, swallowing thickly before straightening out his shirt, quickly regaining his composure in front of others.
"I'll clean it." Darius replies blandly, even with his rough voice. He hasn't really talked with.. anyone for a while to say the least. It's been a couple of months of working different jobs in different towns, just to continue on his way. The old man watches him oddly. D3rlord3 sweeps up the glass silently, in a daze. His almost constant headache has gotten more and more bearable as the months have passed. He continued to clean silently, the dim lighting of the bar helping calm him, yet also keeping him paranoid. Afraid to look at each dark corner for fear of seeing that face. D3rlord3's remains awkward and silent, just doing his job. He had been planning to get out of this town tonight. He needs to stay on the move, he's got a time limit. Avery. He needs to get to him before it's too late.
"You ain't from around here are ya'?" The old man suddenly speaks up again, eyeing Darius as he sweeps. D3rlord3 looks up at him, nodding slightly, but too distracted to really give a full answer. "Well, best for ya to not stay too long." He continues cryptically, taking a sip of the whiskey in his now almost empty glass. This catches D3rlord3's attention easily, after all, it's not something you'd normally hear about a town, but he also feels.. paranoid. This feels wrong, it feels too.. set up, too rehearsed. Darius quickly looks about the dimly lit bar, looking for watching eyes, deciding to choose his words carefully.
"And why is that?" He says calmly, occasionally glancing at the man as he finishes cleaning up the glass that had scattered the floor. He refuses to look at the shards, for fear of seeing something he doesn't want to. D3rlord3 can already make a pretty good guess as to what the old man will say. For some reason, it's as if he can just know who this man is, and his purposes. The reason for his being, and his presence in the bar. I suppose it's not too far-fetched to think about when he had quite literally seen.. Him. The old man speaks once more, swirling the little whiskey in his glass.
"Town's been goin' mad with murder on it's mind, sayin' it be the work of somethin' unnatural. Four gone already." The man says solemnly, glancing at Darius. He continues to watch his whiskey, before finishing it off. "Give me anoth'er" He asks firmly. D3rlord3 does as he's asked, he's not best at bartending, but he knows his hand around it. Especially now, voices in his head tell him easily how to do this and that. Guiding his hands, he tries to ignore it, yet it somehow always seeps into everything he does. As if his actions no longer his own, as if he is no longer himself. He dazes, before zoning back in the man, after he had already given the man his whiskey. He continued to listen, despite knowing what he was most likely going to say. "Horrific sights if you tell me, they're sayin' that all of the victims faces were mutilated beyond belief, brains smushed like an ant. Freaking out all the wives an' kiddos." D3rlorde nods solemnly once more, a shiver going down his spine at the thought of the faces, for some reason.. that struck a chord in him. Something about the situation unsettled him more than usual. „I won‘t be staying long.“ Is all D3rlord3 remembers himself saying before he finds himself in an inescapable void. As if in a single snap he had been transported away from the bar and reality into the void of his mind. However, he knows it‘s not his mind, for there stands those yellow golden doors. That had seemed to shimmer— even in a game. Terror fills D3rlord3, looking down at his armored hands. This isn‘t right, this isn‘t real, snap out of it. His thoughts are then ceremoniously stopped, as a deep distressing voice speaks.
„Run as you might,
You will be found little Knight.
And you will join me.
In Carcosa.“
D3rlord3 does not have time to understand what these words could even begin to mean before he‘s shifted back into reality. Although, he finds himself in a dark alley. His eyes flitter around, his hand digging into the grimy fabric of his old T-shirt. Fear and adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His eyes land on a figure beneath him, lying still on the ground. He can barely make it out in the dark, but as his eyes adjust he can see it. Their face.. it‘s.
It‘s gone. In it‘s place remains guts a gore. Blood soaking the cement around to grimy corpse. It‘s limbs look twisted wrongly, it‘s stomach caved in at an uncomfortable angle. Little bits of flesh and muscle can be seen hanging from the faceless corpse. Looking as if someone has carved their skin off of the skull itself. It‘s eyes are gone. Empty husks remain.
And through D3rlord3‘s now frantic panicking tears, he sees it. The Pallid Mask. Perhaps it‘s an illusion or tears, but there it is, haunting him now as it does in his dreams and memories Darius runs from the alleyway. His hands gripping at his scalp as tears flow down his face, making a mess of his already tired and grimy face. He runs until he makes it to the motel. Grabbing up his meager items and running once more.
D3rlord3 drives off into the night, ignoring the police sirens that start blaring in the small town.
The local news the next morning reports a fifth murder.