𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 - jjk x Little Nightmares 2 (DISCONTINUED)

𝙩𝙬𝙤

Are faces just the front of our heads?

𓆏 𓆏 𓆏

"...Ouch..."

Mono woke up, shivering violently with an aching body, his muscles providing vision-whitening pain with every movement.

While, yes, he had been in more pain before. And yeah, he didn't really have to cry about it, as he was not the type of person to cry or whine about something so "small". Despite everything, tears gathered at the sides of his dark eyes, threatening to spill. His nose began to stuff and his face felt wrong, uncomfortably warm. Pressure built up in his eyes, until, suddenly—

"I'm crying, why am I crying?" He ignored how his voice shook and cracked, how his throat ached and how his lip trembled while he spoke to himself

Deliriously, he stood up, wobbling slightly but quickly stabilizing himself before he could fall back down onto the fleshy surface. He whipped his head around, desperately trying to familiarize himself with his surroundings. Where am I? He thought.

Then his memories finally rushed back to him all at once. Mono felt numb. "She dropped me. She dropped me and now I'm going to die with nobody. Nobody."

The stupid tears that surfaced around his eyes, threatening to spill, finally did. Warm liquid gushed down his face at a slow yet unbreakable pace. Mono's breathing became ragged and uneven, husky and louder than it had to be as he was forced to breath from his mouth, his small nose already clogged up. He crouched back down into a little ball once again, covering his face with his dainty, pale hands. Even if nothing or nobody was here to see him crying, he kept his face out of anything's view anyways. Muffled hiccups escaped him on occasion, though nobody was here to hear them. To see him twitch and shake, nobody was here to hear him sniffle and whimper and cry.

Nobody.

Because she dropped me.

He froze, instantly chastising himself for his thoughts. His hiccups resided and his body stopped twitching just so he could focus on what he was thinking. Don't think like that, he scolded, I still don't know why she dropped me. Maybe she was tired, worn out? Or she could've been confused, or, or—

Or she just didn't want me around.

Immediately, Mono changed his crouching position and instead stood rigid. He gulped intensely. His breath slowly evened out, though it still sounded ragged and loud, and still forced deep breathes from him. The speed at which the warm tears flowed from him thankfully slowed as well, thinning into inconsistent streams. His nails dug into his palms in irritation without him even needing to prompt them to.

But, I saved her so many times! Why would she not want me around?

The nails dug further.

Did I do something wrong? Did I cross a line?

Further and further, knuckles turning white.

Did she dislike me?

Finally, the skin broke, and fresh crimson beads gathered at the self inflicted, crescent-shaped wounds. A small gasp left the black-haired boys lips and he quickly released himself of his painful grip. He huffed, forcing his attention away from the fresh cuts. Just, stop thinking. Walk around, where are we? Find out.

And so he did, beginning to aimlessly walk in a straight line, no real destination in mind. Eventually, the silence— apart from the boiling and scorching sounds the floor made— became too much for Mono, and his thoughts resurfaced.

What if she—

"I'm cold," he said gruffly, irritated and frustrated at himself, mostly his thoughts, for being so disobedient. Complaining now was the only thing he could do to keep his mind away from the intruding thoughts.

"I'm hungry"

"I'm sore"

"I feel dirty — What?"

The Flesh Wall (or floor) elevated into a hill, a single wooden chair at its highest point. A bright light shone on it from above, beckoning Mono closer.

Cautiously, yet still curious nonetheless, the small boy trudged up the flesh hill. His feet made little pitter patter noises as he did so. His pain my momentarily put on hold in order to look confused, What?

Soon, he was standing in front of a comfortable looking, polished chair, and Mono couldn't help but notice the large cookie that rested on the perfect center of the furniture. He also quickly noticed the warmth that the light above provided, like the big blinding ball in the sky— he missed it, of course, he rarely got sunlight. And this felt just like it.

He didn't notice the eyes watching him, unfortunately. Their big watery appearance judging and calculating his every move, waiting for something to happen.

Though, the boy was too absorbed in his options. He was cold, and there was warmth shining on him. He was exhausted and achy, there was a polished wooden chair basically calling his name. Then there was his rumbling stomach, begging for some sort a fuel, and across from him laid a delicious-smelling cookie. Admittedly, the boy had never had a cookie, for they almost always had those weird green dots in its center, and the viewers were a difficult obstacle to navigate around without dying. Most didn't even have a cookie in their homes. So, with this knowledge in mind, Mono took the cookie into both of his small hands, holding it in to his face. No green dots, he thought as he examined it, And no viewers. He flipped the pastry around to the other side; it was the same.

Satisfied with this, Mono nodded to himself and mindlessly plopped into the seat without a second thought. He savored the moment, relishing in the comfort that the chair happily provided, the soothing warm light that shined down on him and melting his shivers until they weren't there, and the
cookie that he would soon take a bite out of. He closed his eyes, he was in bliss.

Finally, after a few moments, the child allowed his teeth to sink into the cookie-- quickly realizing that he couldn't. The dough was harder than rock, and tasted like one too. And as if something sensed this realization, they took away everything else from the boy.

The sunlight mimick did not leave, but it no longer provided him any warmth or comfort like it did before, and behind his eyelids he could tell its color has changed. Coldness quickly crept back onto the boy.

The chair soon lost its polishing and its stability turned poor. He was now even more uncomfortable than he was before, not moving too forcefully in fear of getting a splinter.

And the cookie? It wasn't even a cookie anymore. The large, soft cooked dough cracked and crumbled around itself until only the center remained: a rock.

Mono's eyes snapped open immediately, but was met with a— pink room? He looked around. Wait, no. The light has just turned pink. And he was right, because the narrow, twisting hallway in front of him was a depressing smokey blue.

Wait, narrow twisting hallway? Hold on—