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It was quiet.
That was Puzzles’s first thought.
He was laying on the couch in the SMG4 castle, staring up at the ceiling for the past who knows how long. Half-eaten tubs of ice cream, chip bags and other junk food were scattered around him, the aftermath of his latest binge.
Normally, the castle was full of life, what with all the wacky shenanigans the residents got up to. However, today the rest of the SMG4 crew were out doing… something. He didn’t really remember what. Meggy had told him, but he was having a hard enough time just keeping his eyes open. He couldn’t possibly be expected to remember a conversation. He did, however, remember Meggy trying to encourage him to join them on their little adventure. He had refused, claiming that he would be just fine on his own.
A blatant lie, if his current state was anything to go by.
A wave of nausea swept over him, and he groaned, pressing a hand to his stomach. He had raided the fridge as soon as the crew had left, stuffing himself with anything that looked remotely appetizing. It was his fault, really, for not eating for the last three days despite Meggy’s constant encouragement. It was only fair that he suffered for his own incompetence.
Keep it down. That was all he had to focus on. He could barely keep anything down nowadays. Surely this time would be different. He just needed to focus on his breathing. Focus. Keep it down. Keep it down. Keep it down-
The wave of bile rushed into his mouth first, and he bolted to the bathroom just in time to spew the contents of his stomach into the toilet. His whole body was shaking as he retched, both from exhaustion and from small sobs. He sank to the ground, clutching the toilet bowl like a lifeline.
He had always hated throwing up. It had always been disgusting in the past, and it was needlessly painful in his current body. Something about the TV head and robotic body made the experience a million times worse. This time, though, the crushing sense of defeat came along with his discomfort, and he curled into a ball on the bathroom floor.
Weakly, he reached up and flushed the toilet, resting his head against his arms as he watched the colorful fluid swirl and drain away. Color bleeding away… bleeding out… out from him, out from a pair of bright yellow eyes that faded to dull black… He snapped his head away, desperately trying to push down that memory as tears flowed down his face.
Had his past self seen him now, he would recoil from how absolutely wretched he was. Messy clothes, dirty head, unbecoming sobs wracking his body. But there was no one else around. No one to see his misery.
No one to help.
He was completely
utterly
alone.
His brain latched onto the word and immediately began dragging it down in a messy spiral. Look at you, all alone. You deserve it. You deserve to be alone after everything you’ve done. All you do is hurt the people who try to be there for you, you lie, you steal, you kill and for what? To lose the few people who tolerate you in the end?
Pathetic.
Weak.
Father was right about you.
You’re nothing.
No one.
Never have been
Never will be
No one will ever give you a chance
You m̷u̷r̷d̷e̷r̷e̷d̷ the only one who would
You’re a monster
A failure
You deserve this
You deserve this you deserve this you deserve this you deserve this you deserve this you deserve this-
Puzzles choked out another sob between his panicked breaths, reaching up and grabbing his antennae. “Stop,” he begged, but of course he couldn’t get his own mind under control. He couldn’t control anything. He yanked on his antennae, hard, to try and get some semblance of a grip on reality.
Normally, the pain was enough to snap him out of whatever spiral he was falling into.
Not this time.
“Please, please, stop it, stop it, leave me alone,” he whimpered, tugging on his antennae so hard that he thought they might snap off. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.
Poor, silly little TV man. He really thought his mind would listen to him this time? After how miserably he’d failed to control it in the past? After everything he’d done?
Stupid little idiot.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe. He was shaking, rocking back and forth as he pulled on his antennae. His breaths came in short, quick gasps, not enough. Never enough. The pain wasn’t enough. He needed more, needed something stronger, something sharper, something he could control that would drag him out of the dark spiral he was in.
He didn’t realize he was clawing at the bathroom drawer until his fingers wrapped around a familiar weight.
Slowly, his hands still shaking, he drew the razor close to his chest.
He couldn’t remember the first time he had picked it up, when he had first locked himself in the castle’s guest bathroom while the room spun and his lungs felt like they were constricting. But it helped. Only for a moment, only to break himself out of a worse pain, but it had worked nonetheless.
The sleeves of his hoodie were pushed up.
Dully, almost mechanically, the blade dragged across his cabled wrists.
Pain.
Bright, sharp, blessed pain. The sting drew his mind back to himself, back to the present, back to the way he was shivering violently and heaving with sobs.
It wasn’t enough.
The darkness was still there. Still lurking in his mind, ready to drag him down. Puzzles chased it away with another line of white-hot agony. Then, to make sure it would leave him alone, he did it again.
And again.
And again.
and
again
and
again
and
again.
Puzzles didn’t know how long he sat in that bathroom, blood leaking from his wrist and pooling on the floor in inky puddles. He didn’t know how long he had been crying, only that the tears hadn’t stopped once. All he knew was that when he raised his head from where it had been resting on the toilet seat, he wasn’t alone anymore.
A dark specter stood in the doorway.
Normally, the sight would’ve sent a stab of fear through Puzzles.
All he could do now was look at the apparition of his former friend with a blank, dead gaze.
It wasn’t uncommon for WPNZ to show up out of nowhere. He seemed to find a sick pleasure in stalking him, scaring him when he least expected it and making him look insane in front of the rest of the SMG4 crew.
It was all completely deserved, of course. WPNZ would never be like this if Puzzles hadn’t killed him.
Normally, when WPNZ looked at him, it was with nothing but searing hate.
Now, though, if Puzzles didn’t know better, he’d say the ghost looked… frightened.
Hesitantly, WPNZ took a step forward, one of his hands reaching out then pausing in midair. Did he think I was…? Puzzles was so completely out of it that a wide, shaky smile spread across his face, and he waved.
“Hello, WPNZ,” he said, his voice absolutely wrecked from how hard he’d been crying. Another sob wrenched its way out of his speakers, though it almost sounded like a laugh. He couldn’t stop shaking. Why couldn’t he stop shaking?
“Here to torment me?” he said, a bitter laugh crackling out of his speakers. He limply gestured to himself, still holding the razor. “Sorry, but I beat you to it. Though…”
He lifted the razor up. He could see one of his eyes in the blade’s reflection- a wide, dark, tear-filled thing. “I suppose you’d be enjoying seeing me like this…”
His body felt numb.
Heavy.
Dead weight.
Dead weight…
“Would it make you happy?” he murmured, looking at the blade. He didn’t look up to see WPNZ’s reaction. Just tilted the razor, almost curiously, watching how the dim light caught and reflected.
“If I joined you,” he continued, his shaking growing deathly (hah) still. He still didn’t look up. That old ache, the feeling of being trapped in his own skin, was crawling back up his spine.
He was all too familiar with it.
He had dealt with it once before.
In his mind, the razor flashed to a saw. His body flickered between flesh and blood and machine. A familiar scene. One he had performed before. Slowly, almost unconsciously, he began raising the blade to his neck.
It had worked oh so well before…
WPNZ was in front of him before he could even blink.
Puzzles flinched, scooting backwards away from the specter until his back hit the wall. He hadn’t even seen WPNZ move. It was like the ghost had teleported, standing in the doorway one second and kneeling in front of him the next.
Even if WPNZ didn’t speak much, he had always been rather expressive. Right now, his eyes were wide, the pupils shrunk to mere pinpricks.
The meaning was clear even without words- don’t.
For a moment, they just sat there. WPNZ seemed to be burning holes into his PVC casing with the intensity of his stare. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. But Puzzles noticed something interesting. As they sat in silence, his breathing started getting steadier. His shaking was less violent, slowly calming until it was barely noticeable. It felt like a small bit of weight had been lifted off his chest as he sat.
It was strange. Even if WPNZ’s haunting him was his own doing, the ghost’s presence was almost calming. A familiar presence that helped draw Puzzles back to reality, in some twisted way.
Once Puzzles’s shaking calmed down, WPNZ looked down at his hands, almost like he was deliberating something. Then, he reached out again, and despite Puzzles knowing logically that WPNZ couldn’t physically hurt him, he still shrank back.
But WPNZ wasn’t reaching for him specifically. The hand hovered above the razor, like the assassin was going to grab it. His hand phased through it, causing WPNZ’s face to contort into a scowl. When Puzzles sat frozen, WPNZ jabbed his finger at him, almost accusingly, then pointed to the floor. The gesture was clear.
Slowly, so slowly that it was almost painful, Puzzles uncurled his fingers from the death grip he had around the razor. He had been holding it so hard that his joints in his fingers had locked up, and he let out a small hiss at the pain as he relaxed them. He set it down, his hands shaking, before curling in on himself. His blood smeared across his hoodie, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just pressed his fingers into the lacerations carved into his wrist, relishing the sting they brought.
Filthy. So incredibly filthy. That’s what he was.
Fitting for someone like me.
Fitting that my outside finally matches the inside…
Another flash of movement caught his attention, and he looked up at WPNZ. The assassin was still crouched in front of him, still staring like he didn’t know what to do. His hand settled over the razor on the floor, as if he were trying to hide it. It didn’t work- his hand was corporeal, after all, and thus Puzzles could see the razor through the dark black of WPNZ’s hand. The intent behind the gesture was still there, though.
Puzzles stared down at his hand, his thoughts as sluggish as the blood oozing from his wrist. He couldn’t understand why. Why did WPNZ stop him? Wasn’t his suffering what he wanted?
“Oh, right,” Puzzles said, realization hitting him. Impossibly, he started giggling. Manic, broken sounds that crackled from his speakers, echoing in the bathroom as he curled in on himself. His body was still shaking, but this time, it was from a twisted sense of mirth.
“I completely forgot. You want me suffering,” he said, his smile shaky and wrong. “I need to be alive for that. My sincerest. Won’t happen again…”
WPNZ was still staring at him with wide eyes. This time, though, Puzzles couldn’t tell if he was angry, startled, or scared. Maybe a mix of the three. He didn’t know. He hadn’t gotten the chance to know WPNZ well enough to tell.
That was his own fault…
Puzzles sighed, then curled in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest. The motion made his wrist ache even worse, but at the very least it seemed like the blood flow had slowed. That’s good, at least.
Not that I deserve the reprieve.
Not when I watched him bleed out the same way, when I couldn’t save him after what I’d done…
The reminder of his sins shifted in front of him, then pushed himself to his feet. Puzzles didn’t bother lifting his head. He just glanced up at WPNZ, too drained to bother worrying about what the assassin might do next. It wouldn’t be any worse than what I’m going through right now.
WPNZ looked over his shoulder, then glared at Puzzles again. He still didn’t say anything, but his expression was almost… stern. A very firm warning to not try anything. Then, he simply turned and walked out.
Puzzles just sat there, watching.
Waiting.
If I did do something again, what would he do? It’s not like he can physically stop me…
The sound of glass shattering made him jump, and he just barely lifted his head. He couldn’t see outside of the bathroom, and he couldn’t be bothered to go check what had happened. A small sliver of concern slipped into his mind- did… did WPNZ do that?
He didn’t get the chance to think on the matter further. WPNZ returned, standing in the doorway. The assassin didn’t make any moves to come closer, nor did he relax at all. He just stood there. Watching.
Waiting.
For what, Puzzles didn’t know.
Hoping I’ll bleed out and die? Or waiting for me to get a move on? A small huff escaped Puzzles’s speakers, and he rested his head back on his arms. Sorry, but I’m afraid I won’t be doing either of those things anytime soon.
Puzzles tried to ignore the presence that was in the room, watching him with a burning intensity. He tried to ignore the darkness trying to creep back into his mind. He tried to ignore just how heavy his limbs felt. He pressed his fingers to his wrist, sending another stab of pain through him, and just tried to ignore… everything.
The sound of a door opening made him freeze.
“Puzzles?” a voice called out, sounding confused. “I heard something break… are you okay?”
Meggy.
But she wasn’t meant to be back yet. She wasn’t meant to come back inside for hours. Why is she here? How did she hear the glass breaking?
What should I do to cover this up?
With a frightening burst of energy, Puzzles was suddenly all too aware of his current situation. Blood dripped down his arms and pooled on the floor, bile stuck to the bottom of his screen- it wasn’t a pretty picture, and she would be all too aware of what had been going on.
He started to push himself up with his uninjured arm, to reach for the first-aid kit that he knew was kept underneath the sink (they were starting to run out of gauze and bandages for it- he should ask Meggy to get more- but then she’d know he’d been using it-), but froze when a dark figure cut in front of him.
WPNZ was glaring down at him, his eyes so bright and harsh that for a second, it almost looked like they were alive. Full of glowing color once more.
But they weren’t.
That didn’t stop WPNZ from using his gaze to pin Puzzles in place, static buzzing in Puzzles’s ears as his mind slowly swirled with fear and guilt. He wasn’t sure what the assassin would do to him- if he could do anything at all- but the way WPNZ’s fists were clenched told Puzzles that he didn’t want to find out.
He didn’t know how long they sat there, locked in a tense stalemate, but it was long enough for Meggy to find him.
He heard her before he saw her.
He heard her whispered “Puzz…?” that tapered off into a sharp gasp. He heard her footsteps get closer, then hesitate, like she wasn’t sure what to do.
With all the speed of an unhurried turtle, Puzzles turned his head from WPNZ to her.
Tears were gathering in the corners of Meggy’s eyes, and her mouth was opening and shutting like she wasn’t sure what to say. The sight of her so distressed sent another wave of guilt through him, and he gave her a shaky smile in an attempt to calm her down. “Oh! Meggy, dear, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in- sorry for the mess, I can get it cleaned up-”
“How long have you been doing this?”
The whispered question hit like a truck, and Puzzles’s smile immediately fell. He could feel himself shutting down, his carefully curated emotionless mask falling back into place with all the ease of sliding on gloves. Speaking of which, his were ruined. “I’m not sure,” he responded flatly, looking away from her. After a moment, he continued.
“I’ll answer you honestly and say that this isn’t a new thing.”
Meggy was silent, but she stepped closer, crouching down in front of him. Puzzles looked up at her, trying very hard to ignore the hulking specter hovering right behind her. She reached out, then hesitated. “Is it okay if I touch you?” she asked.
Puzzles wasn’t sure how touch would help. Had she come in earlier, it probably would’ve sent him into an overstimulated meltdown. Now, though, he just felt… numb.
Maybe a hug would help.
“Go ahead,” he mumbled. Immediately, Meggy wrapped her arms around him, and he was ashamed to say that the child in him nearly broke at the comfort. I’ve never had anyone… never after I’ve done this sort of thing…
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and he could tell that she was trying hard not to cry. “I’m so sorry- if I had known-”
“Don’t blame yourself,” he said, leaning slightly against her. “I’m the one who took measures to make sure none of you knew. It’s not your fault.”
“I should’ve been here for you,” she said, hugging him tighter.
“You’re here for me now,” he said softly. “That’s enough.”
After another moment, Meggy sniffled, then pulled back with a determined light in her eyes. “We’re gonna get through this, Puzzles,” she said, firm and resolute. “Together. I’m not letting you keep suffering through this alone.”
Puzzles smiled slightly at that, but it faded when he saw the leer on WPNZ’s face. The look he was giving him was clear- it doesn’t matter whether or not you’re alone. Suffering is all you’re going to get.
Before he could say something, though, Meggy opened the cabinets under the sink and grabbed the first-aid kit. “Here. We’ll need this,” she said, flipping open the lid. Puzzles felt a sinking feeling in his chest as he saw her forehead wrinkle, undoubtedly taking note of the missing bandages. Thankfully, she didn’t comment, just grabbed the gauze and bandages and held them out to him.
“...Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, watching as he methodically began wiping the blood away from his wrists. He discreetly angled himself away from her so she wouldn’t see the older scars that dappled the cabled limb. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see WPNZ’s eyes narrow, and he knew that his little facade had definitely been noticed.
“Just… stay? Please?” he asked, pausing his cleaning to look up at her. The corners of Meggy’s mouth quirked up into a small smile, and she shuffled into a criss-cross sitting position as Puzzles continued patching himself up.
Wipe down the wounds. Make one gauze pad too dirty to keep using. Grab another. Keep wiping. Go through at least five or six wipes before the wounds are clean enough. Apply disinfectant. Place gauze over wounds, then wrap with bandages to keep gauze in place. Tug sleeves of hoodie down over the bandages to hide them.
It was a routine that Puzzles had long since gotten used to.
From the disheartened expression on Meggy’s face, and the calculating glare on WPNZ’s, he guessed that they assumed as much.
“C’mon,” Meggy said, taking the repacked first aid kit and placing it back under the sink before standing up and holding out her hand to Puzzles. “Let’s just… go somewhere else. Doesn’t have to be anything special. Just enough for a change of scenery. Then, maybe… we can talk?”
Puzzles hesitated. He’d never had someone to speak with after his episodes. Frankly, nobody had ever caught him. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and frankly was a bit frightened by what Meggy might say.
The alternative, though, was staying in a room where the floors were painted with his own blood and the ghost of his past sins was staring daggers at him.
It was an easy choice.
As Meggy led him out of the bathroom, murmuring something about getting him cleaned up and into some different clothes, Puzzles spared one final glance back. WPNZ was still standing in the bathroom, still staring after him. It might’ve been his imagination, but… Puzzles could’ve sworn the assassin almost looked sad.
Before he could think further on the matter, he stumbled over one of the half-empty ice cream cartons he had dropped haphazardly on the floor. “Oh dear- oh, right,” Puzzles said, wincing at the mess he had left. “I can… clean up this mess…”
“We can clean it up later,” Meggy said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “For now, let’s just focus on getting you taken care of.”
Puzzles gave her another small smile, feeling a rush of warmth at Meggy’s support. It was nice, having someone in his corner.
Even if the way you won her support was sick and twisted.
Puzzles shuddered, trying to chase away the chill that ran down his spine. Once he calmed himself, he looked back once more, but WPNZ was gone.
Probably for the best…
Why did he bother stopping me? Doesn’t he want my pain? My suffering?
Maybe he only wants me to suffer in a specific way.
What a horrible thought.
…I don’t want to stop seeing him.
But I don’t want to keep feeling this guilt.
How long will this cycle last?
…Can I hold out much longer?
—
WPNZ watched Puzzles stagger away from the bathroom, following the red-headed girl- Meggy- as she led him to his room. Once they were gone, he sighed, looking back at the spot where he had found Puzzles. Black blood still sat on the floor, a gruesome reminder of what had just transpired.
…What the hell jus’ happened?
When he had first appeared in the bathroom, fully intending to torment Puzzles, he had thought the TV man was dead. It had certainly looked that way- lifeless eyes, slumped body, blood pooling on the floor.
WPNZ had thought that he’d feel gratification at seeing his betrayer’s body.
At the sight, though, all he had felt was… horror.
It was even worse when he realized Puzzles was alive, and infinitely worse when he realized that the wounds were self-inflicted. He remembered the way Puzzles had smiled at him, a broken, tormented gesture. He remembered the way the light had drained from Puzzles’s eyes as he held up the razor, fully intending to use it on his neck rather than his wrists.
WPNZ didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been there.
…Why did I stop him?
He had thought that Puzzles’s suffering was what he wanted. And it was! The bastard had taken his trust and quite literally stabbed him in the back. He was the reason WPNZ was dead. His betrayer. His murderer.
And yet somehow, he couldn’t stomach the idea of Puzzles daring to hurt himself.
It’s ‘cause if he dies, I wanna be the one to kill him, WPNZ thought fiercely. He ain’t gettin’ outta this world by anyone’s hand but mine. Nobody gets to steal that from me. Not even him. Not when he stole so much from me.
That’s why.
Hope you’re ready to join me soon, Boxhead.
But only when I make you join me.
After another moment of staring after Puzzles, he glanced back at the soiled bathroom one last time. His eyes landed on the razor, and his lips curled back in a snarl. Focusing all of his energy, he willed his hand to be solid, then crouched and grabbed the damned object and hurled it in the trash can.
It wasn’t much. If Puzzles was determined to keep up his destructive habits, then he’d find another way to hurt himself. But for now, this was a start. One less weapon he could use.
WPNZ stared at the trash can for a long time before fading away, a lingering sense of doubt still echoing in his mind no matter how hard he pushed it away.
It’s only for me.
I’m not doing it for him.
I wanna be the one to get rid of him.
That’s all.
Nothing more.