Chapter Text
132 days and 133 nights since I've been stuck here.
Stuck.
Trapped.
Isolated.
Flashes of yellow, gold, empty smoothies flood my mind briefly as I sit on the small cot.
January 1st, 2026.
The day everything changed. At least, I think. Those brief moments, I remember, getting kicked out of the game. Opening a Google doc, uploading the video, writing the letter.Avery.AveryTheMayo… eyes. Tens of hundreds of eyes. Staring at me. My head throbbing every time I wasn't near a blue light.
Flash
Gates. Tall gold gates.
Flash
Black.
Flash
Green slime.
Flash
crafting tables.
Black.
Black.
More black.
That was the last thing I remember. According to the doctors, I had passed out in my apartment, and my landlord had found me unconscious, thin, and sleep-deprived, slumped over my desk.
Pens and paper and scribbles, scattered on the tables, floors. Empty smoothies everywhere, the fridge wide open and running, a laptop open, black screen.
Whatever. Now, I'm here in this tiny white room. My head has started to forget things, things I feel like I used to have complete control over… Minecraft keeps fading away. And in the process, my head has been hurting less and less. However, I can't shake another feeling. An overwhelming feeling of heaviness in my heart. I ignore it, per usual; the heart is extraordinary, yes. But in this case, I need my head. My head is tearing me down. I need my head.
Not my heart.
My mind is a weapon and my downfall.
Fuck. My head is killing me again. The… the edges of my vision grow dark… blurry… black… no… no… not again.
.
.
.
.
[Avery’s Pov]
It was my first day at my internship; a few months had passed since that weird game. I had tried looking for him. D3relor– Derek. Only the recordings. Those recordings were what I was holding on to—my memories. I played back the videos and realized.. Back when I first met him face-to-face. He had sent a strange code. Eventually, staring hard enough, I used it as a Google Drive link and read the letter. His letter.
“At the crossroads, keep going forward.”
Despite myself, I find the screen grows blurry, tears blocking my view; I wipe my eyes, reading and rereading his note. I hadn’t failed him. He wasn’t good at endings. But… neither was I. D3rdlord was good at everything. He was smart enough to solve all these puzzles. No way this is the end. I decided to get rid of the old laptop and keep the videos on my cloud. Just in case.
I could never get back into that world. Maybe that’s for the best. Like he had told me. That’s what he would’ve wanted.
Now I stand here in my first real job. A mental health assistant. I was assigned to a nurse, Natalie Fountain. I arrive at the hospital, with brownish curly hair, freshly cut, my freckles more potent in the fall morning glow. I step in and take a look around at the hospital, its tall white walls, bright fluorescent lights.
“You must beAvery Mayo.”
I looked at the middle-aged woman; she seemed nice, a middle-aged white woman with blonde hair.
“Yes, I am! You must be Natalie Fountain! I’m super excited to work here and–”
“Actually, no, I’m Jill Willson, the overhead manager. Natalie is this way- ”
“Oh-” I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck, following her down the hall. I follow her down the sterile halls, the fluorescent lights lighting up the room in that familiar way. She leads me to a room near the end of the hall, a door with the name ‘Natalie Fountain’ written on it.
“This is Natalie Fountain. Good luckAvery.” Ms. Willson says, leaving me. I take a deep breath.
In…
And out…
I knock on the door twice before a sharp, high-pitched voice calls through the door, “Come in!”
I unlock the door and take a step in. The office looked normal enough: a PhD on the wall, papers, laptops, and a couple of skull models in shelves of books.
“Hey— er- hello, ma’am.”
“Avery, I presume?" She asks, not looking up from her laptop.
“Yes, miss!”
“Quite the spirit you got, huh?”
“Yes, Mrs.- Ms- Ms. Founatian, ma’am!”
“Jeez, just call me Dr. Fountain.” She says, pinching her nose bridge together, "Your first patient is Derek Hutchins. He was brought in a while ago. You just need to take care of him, give him food, adjust things, and take info on him. If needed, you'll talk to him. I'm only giving you patience, understood? Rookies like you can't handle too much at once. He's classified as a ptsd and schizophrenic patient from some sort of unclassified case. He was brought in 3 months after being hospitalized, so he's still vulnerable. UnderstoodAvery?"
“Huh-? Yes. Yes, ma— yes, Dr Fountain.” She sighs and slides a yellow folder titled ‘Derek Hutchins’ across her desk to me.
My head is still reeling from the name, Derek…
No way it's….
My Derek ....right…?
I open the folder and read the first page.
Name: Derek Hutchins
Height: 6” 2’
Weight: 156 lbs
Age: 29
Ethnicity: Chinese German
Nationality: American
Sex: Male
.
.
.
.
It’s been hours. I can’t find the fricking room. I lean on a wall, contemplate my life choices, where the fuck is room 23?!
I pant and check my watch. 2 hours. You’ve got to be kidding me. My patient is probably waiting there. I don’t want them to be alone much longer…
…
Wait, what am I thinking?
I don’t know this guy!
He’s just my first patient. Maybe that’s why I feel this way.
I sigh and rub my face, getting up and continuing to walk around in the sterile hallways to find the room.
Room 28…
Room 25..
There it is! Room 23!
I grin to myself, proud, and knock on the door.
Once…
Twice…
The door opens.
