Stanley Paraleble fanfiction | they/them reader.

Chapter 8. Endless Loop.

TW: SU1C!DE, GRAPHIC. DO NOT READ IF MENTIONS OF SU1C!DE TRIGGER YOU IN ANY WAY. I HAVE WARNED YOU.

You wake up in a bed. It is a big bed. It has dark blue covers.

The sunlight slips through the curtains.

I'm in Narrator's room again.

First thoughts of the day come to the surface. Gloomy.

I'm in Narrator's room. His office. He has a new room.

You sit up. Your movement remind you of your broken left hand. You let out an exhausted sigh.

The room is spacious and simple. Very close to Narrator's old room. Blue carpets. Big windows. Curtains...

You look at the sunlight and the windows.

The windows were big. From the floor to the ceiling, just like in Narrator's previous recording booth.

The windows covered the whole left side of the wall. Also the wall in front of the bed.

There was a door on the right.

Where is Narrator...

You look around..

"Narrator? Narrator? Nar-"

Your eyes stop on the floor.

"Narrator... What are you doing on the carpet...?"

Morning, Stanley.

The man replies. His glowing eyes look at you.

Are you awake?

"What do you mean? Weren't you uncomfortable on the floor? How long have you stayed there?

You were talking in your sleep. It is difficult for me to understand that, since I don't really need sleep like humans.

He explains calmly and stands up.

I can still sleep, like as a hobby. He adds, to appear more human for you, and to also seem relatable.

"Okay.." You push yourself to the edge of the bed and let your feet touch the carpet.

How are you feeling, Stanley?

You turn to the mini fridge. It was in the same spot as it was in Narrator's old room. You open the cabinet door and reach for a coke.

"I don't know. I..."

The White Museum. The Curator. Everything reminds you of itself.

You shut your eyes and crack the can open.

You know, I can offer you some real food.

"I am not feeling like eating."

You really should. It's not beneficial.

"Since when did you start caring about my health?" You turn to face him.

Your eyes meet with his. You felt tired though you had just woken up. You take a sip of your drink and spot the bandages around his waist.

"What happened?"

Narrator lifts his shirt down.

You stabbed me. Again.

"Oh Jesus Christ" You empty the can and walk out the only door in the room.

Stanley.

You look around the new room. It was much bigger than Narrator's old room. It was a lot more fancy too.