MCYT One Shots :D

Ticking (Limited Life)

I spent like 2 months trying to come up with a better title and failed-
Sorry for how short it is :(

He was falling, he didn't know how long he had been falling. But it was comforting, it meant he wasn't there, he wasn't in the games, for now at least.

Every time he seemed to be the only player who remembered, he watched as everyone killed each other over and over again, blissfully unaware of the last game. He watched as friendships and even romances were torn apart, all for Their entertainment. But he didn't just watch, no, that was what They did, he had to participate too, the lives he took, the crimson blood that covered his hands before someone would eventually take his.

Everytime he would wake up in this void, falling, waiting for Their cruel hands to pluck him out and place him back in the games. He can't open his eyes, or at least, he thinks so, he can't tell. When he tries everything it's still pitch black. He can feel Their eyes, hundreds upon thousands, staring at him as They feed, surrounding him, watching.

He would watch, but not like Them, he would watch as his friends were tormented over and over again, and never remembered. His remembering was his punishment, his punishment for listening. The canary was also punished, even if his listening was in the past, it died first everytime, its song going out, a warning of what is to come, unable to say goodbye to the ones it loves most. He doesn't remember who the canary is, he can barely remember himself. His name, his wants, his desires, merely a faint breeze in the storm that is his mind.

He's alone, always alone. First his king was killed, he had served him with undying loyalty, then his southlanders passed, leaving him alone, then she left. They had all been soulbound, someone they would be with to the end. But his soulbound left, finding someone else, and he was once again alone, just like he is now in the void.

After what must have been months, a ticking noise begins. At first it is barely noticeable, but now it's loud, deafening almost. It surrounds him, it sounds like a clock's ticking, consistent, counting the seconds. Counting down towards... something. It seems Their game is beginning once again. Soon the falling stops, and so does the ticking, he opens his eyes, staring at the now white void surrounding him as he floats. His name comes back to him.

Martyn,

His name is Martyn.

He closes his eyes as the white starts to fade, he feels his body become more solid, more real. He also feels something round and cool in his hand. He opens his eyes, looking down to see a clock. Faint ticking could be heard, but Martyn needed more. The clock counted as the seconds wasted away.

He needed the time.

He needed more of the time, delicious, beautiful time that ticked away.

He needed to win.