See You on the Other Side [Yan!DSMP x Reader]

- CHAPTER 11: Catullus

'FANMEMES'

MC talking about their gender:

By: Fae!

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Darkness. There's only darkness, no matter where you look. With a cold, dusty floor under you, your body lying on something with your neck suffering greatly under it, you sit up right, cracking the irritated bones. A box, on which your head was first situated, you feel with your hands. The carton feels as though it's been wet very recently; as though someone got it out of the rain today.

Hoping that the box will remain something useful, you put your hand in the opening, feeling carefully when your hand falls on a cylinder. You take it. Soon enough, you feel a switch, finding a fully functional flashlight. A relieved sigh leaves you lips. At least, there's some light now, so you allow yourself to take in your surroundings.

Despite the light of the torch, the place ends up barely lit. The walls are all dark grey, covered with scratches and spider webs hiding in the corners. There's a singular door, but as you open it, there's only an abyss waiting for you to jump in. At least, it is at that moment.

Where are you? Is this a dream? It must be; you've seen a lot in your life, but this is something new.

As much as you wanted to believe at first that this could've been a containment chamber, for you to discover that everything you've experienced ever since entering the portal, the Foundation would've had no idea how to make it seem like this.

Your light passes the scratches and bloody letters on the wall, the same word repeated over and over and over again. No, not the same word, the same name; the name you were given. It's yours that's messily and desperately scratched and painted on the otherwise empty walls. The only decoration in this dull room.

And well, it's not exactly putting you at ease either.

Your breath hitching and your heart skipping a couple of beats, you try to calm yourself and your mind. It's just a dream. A painting of your fear. This isn't real. It can't be. How else are you supposed to accept this? Falling asleep while watching some pirate movie with Fundy, and then waking up here? Surely, you dreaming is the only rational explanation?

You know it is. You know you're asleep. But that doesn't make you any less terrified. Because even if it's fiction, you have no idea what any of these people are capable of anymore. You don't know them. You know their alternate versions; the ones who tortured you to the point of destruction, self-destruction, and truly just a miserable life. However, you cannot estimate to what lengths these people are willing to go to achieve their twisted goals. If you did, you don't think you'd be here.

With hesitation, you point your torch in the direction of the carton box out of which you got the flashlight. It's a bit wet, just as you expected. There's writing on the front, though the letters are unreadable, having been attacked by the unexpected liquid. You sigh. With a slight sense of unsafety, you approach the box and sit down in front of it again, ready to go through the many objects inside of it. And with every other letter, paper, photo or notebook you find your hands on, your heartbeat finds another reason to start running.

Photos of you asleep. Photos of you and Sally, even at more vulnerable moments where neither of you were aware of the photos being taken. Letters with obsessive sentences and an insistence on finding a life with you, all alone, and the mysterious writer. There are drawings of an oddly familiar cabin house, with you and a woman who you can only assume to be Sally sitting, staring out over a lake with a fishing rod next to the couple. Except, Sally is scratched out.