Mandela Catalogue stuff???

Story 1: Why didn't you stop me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jonah and Adam's final POVs before dying. It gets sad :-(

(Title inspired by 'Why didn't you stop me?' by Mitski)

TW: mentions of hanging, descriptions of uncanny facial features, triggering descriptions of various pictures, swearing, descriptions of death, descriptions of questioning sanity (thought I'd put that there, just in case :-]) etc. Stay safe please!

STATUS: RE-WRITTEN (finished on the 02/10/2022).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ADAMS POV:

The static from the analogue television in front of Adam flickered, deafeningly loud white noise and muffled, distorted meows slowly seeping into his ringing ears. He shifted uncomfortably and slumped into a cross-legged position, his aching back arched and his head facing the television. He studied it with caution, taking in its black, boxy frame, how the bright static danced and flashed in front of his eyes, and how a picture of a brown cat in an innocent sitting position was in the centre of the screen, staring.

And how a monochrome, mildly disfigured profile of a man smiling appeared before him, replacing the cat. The cats muffled pleas and meows suddenly stopped. 

Adam flinched back slightly before facing it again, his back now straightened and sky blue eyes semi-wide. The man - no, thing -  in the television, however, was unfazed. It wore an uncanny grin, its eyes carefully studying the wanted teenager with a faint glint of pity in its dark eyes. 

Though Adam could tell it was anything but pity.

Both studied one another for a while, Adam attempting to figure out where he had seen this figure before, and the man just... staring. Menacingly. The once thundering shriek of the white noise now slipped into near-silence that echoed around them, the rest of the basement dark and quiet. Adam's breathing was growing quicker and quicker by the second despite his fearless façade. His radio was resting on the cool ground, just as silent as the teenager himself. 

Adam steadily let a small smile of what could be triumph rest across his pale face. He had come to the conclusion in his mind that the 'man' inside the television was an alternate, more specifically what people call 'Tulpas', the alternates that move and attack through reflective surfaces, such as televisions. Adam thought even attempting to communicate with it would give him the only thing he needed. Answers. 

'What are you?...' Adam slowly muttered beneath his breath, though just loud enough for the man in the TV to hear clearly. He slowly grabbed his radio and moved back a little in slight surprise as the man turned completely pitch black, his bright white sclera and pupil being an exception. Suddenly, various pictures flashed across the screen, nearly too fast for the teenager himself to comprehend. One of two teenagers, though one was upside-down, for whatever reason, one of a distorted lady's face, one of the 'Mandela County Police Department', one of the same lady except upside down, the lower part of her face unseen, one of another alternate, which was most likely a type three, one of the same man from before, only in better quality, and the final one was a blue and yellow screen. These pictures flashed across the screen many times. But one stood out to him:

A silhouette of a woman, hanging by a rope tied to her neck...

The hair on the back of Adam's neck stood up, his blood ran cold, goose bumps travelled up his arms even though the basement was stuffy and humid. His eyes were now fully wide and tears of disbelief welled up, he was traumatized just by the sight of that picture. He was distraught.

Distraught at the sight of his missing mother.

Jonah was right.

'You don't remember me.' Adam heard a voice taunt.

The television screen turned white again, leaving Adam to stare at it in confusion and despair. Static rang in his ears, tears continued to well up in his baby blue eyes, his hands trembled whilst holding his eerily silent radio. This only gave him more questions. 

Questions to do with his sanity.

Silence...

The same upside-down woman appeared again, causing Adam to stagger back slightly more, this time towards the staircase leading out of the basement. His breathing picked up more and more as it stared at the teenager. 

A distorted music box tune came to life, echoing around the distraught, unfortunate soul, trapped in a basement with an alternate. 

'What... have you... done?' Adam heard the voice ask. He could hear the smile of victory rest upon the man's uncanny face. 

He hesitated to answer. He knew Jonah had left him, he himself had told them to. He had ventured into the woman's house with confidence, unfazed by anything posing a threat. So why was he feeling so paranoid now? 

He should've listened to them. 

''... I did the right thing.''

JONAHS POV:

Jonah let tears of despair and grief cascade down their cheeks as he drove down the highway. His trembling hands gripped and grasped the steering wheel, his back arched and their eyes transfixed onto the empty, blurry road ahead of him. Various radio stations roared to life at a deafening volume through the radio in the stolen car he was driving, though Jonah was entirely unfazed. He was breaking nearly every road law in Bythorne County just to get away from that godforsaken house and its 'ghost cat'.

From the place where his best friend will eventually die. 

Guilt ran through their veins; he shouldn't have left Adam, even despite the dread that was ever-so-slowly building up inside of them. If only he had just listened to Jonah...

But no. For some reason, Adam had decided to rebel against his desperate pleas, resulting in a heated argument. After that, Jonah fled the house without his best friend. Without the only person they had. He gasped for air as more choked sobs escaped his dry mouth, the cars nearby went by in a blur of colour. Everything was too dark, too loud, too silent, too... unsafe. 

'You left him behind.' A raspy, nearly inaudible voice could be heard over the radio. Jonah gasped again, blinking hard and adjusting his terror-filled eyes to be set on the GPS. It couldn't be an alternate, right? Surely they're just imagining it, right? 

'What will he do without you?' They heard it again. He choked out a pain-filled sob, gasping for air once more. His breathing was heavy and trembling, his eyes were wide and fixed back onto the road in utter fear, he muttered curse words under his shaky breathing. This was it, he was dead. Just like his best friend.

'...Open your eyes.' 

'..Open your eyes.'

'.Open your eyes.'

Jonah sobbed more, their ears ringing and head aching. The raspy voice repeated the phrase more and more, letting it seep into the teenagers already cloudy memory.

'SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE F**K UP!' 

'... SHUT UP...' he choked about before his voice cracked. 

He pulled over onto the side of the highway, bright orange emergency lights blinking in front of them. He shoved the car door wide open before slamming it shut, sluggishly falling  onto the dew-splattered grass. He sobbed more whilst facing down at the blades of grass, tears dropping from their eyes onto his trembling hands. 

A piercing black blade shot through his stomach. 

Jonah screamed. 

(author note: WOOOOO my first story! Wow, I really didn't expect it do be this good, I wrote it all up by scratch! Well, thank you for reading, onto the next story! :-])