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People gathered in the kitchen, most of the mess being covered by a bundle of blankets and sheets by Marshmallow. Soap had fainted, and people guessed it was her who screamed. Paintbrush grimaced as Knife met up with them, Paper cleaning OJ up, who was still whimpering.
"....So." Knife began, clearing his throat, cutting through the silence as he looked at the others. "How are you guys holding up?"
"As well as I can." Paintbrush sighed.
"God, OJ... You're covered in it..." Paper muttered aloud, wiping OJ's glass and cupping their face with his other hand. OJ didn't respond, only biting his lip back and shuddering.
"...We gonna discuss...?" Knife motioned to OJ. "You know, the blood and all..."
Paintbrush rolled their eyes. "Give them some space."
"I wish we could call the police to the island. This would make things so much easier." Nickel grumbled, walking to the group with Baseball, who gave a polite smile to OJ, who had glanced over.
Knife raised a suspicious brow. "Did you not see anything? Y'know, cuz you're roommates and all."
"Nope. I heard Balloon leave, and I heard her enter back. But I guess she left something behind because she ran off again."
"I'm sure we can ask OJ when he calms down..." Paper spoke up, stroking OJ's rim as he stared at the indistinguishable white liquid he had wiped away on the cloth.
A few moments pass, and OJ's distant gaze widens as he spirals into a panic attack, grabbing his cup and bashing his fists against his head.
Worried and frantic, Paper moves to calm him down, ripping their hands away from their head.
"Woah- Woah! It's okay... It's alright..."
To that, OJ responds with shriek, pushing Paper away and fighting out of his grasp. This beckoned the others over, who kept their respectful distance.
Paper raised his hands, releasing the man.
"O-Okay! Okay! I-I'm not touching you, it's okay..."
OJ found his way to the far end of the couch, pulling his legs to his chest as he sobbed, his husband allowing for space, for OJ's panic and tears to quell.
Eventually, they spoke, coughing before trying again. A few small cowering whines uttered before he finally says something.
"I- I-...I- I know who did it..."
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Everyone was staring. They were staring and expecting. They were expecting me.
They were scary, and frightening, and I felt like such a coward.
"Do it." Taco voiced. "Tell them. Tell them that he did it."
Eventually, I spoke, coughing before trying again. A few small cowering whines uttered before I finally said something.
"I- I-...I- I know who did it..."
They're staring. They're still staring..! Stop staring at me..! SSTTOP STARING ATMESTOPA STARING AT EM1!! STOTOPTSTAIN STYAIRN SOTP ASTIAIR AA THEYRE STARINGH AT ME THEY'RE-.anp|;>
Paper placed a hand on my shoulder, causing me to flinch and look up.
"It's okay... Take your time."
He was so nice... He was beautiful, and perfect, and--
"T̶̡̳͇̖́̾ę̶̛͍̰̙̟̘̙̱̰̼͑̍̈́̓̆͐́͑̔̔͗̚͘͝l̵̨̢̧̛̻̤̖̝̯͙͙̳̄͗́̃̒̔̄̏̈́̚l̵̡̡̢̖̳̳̝̜̰̤̫̤͍̎͜ͅ ̵̧̫͎̯̤̝͕͎̼͇̻͓̩̞̃͐̈̓̾͑̿̀̚̕͘ţ̸͇̹̽̈́́͌̏̈́͂͌͆̕͜͝͝ḩ̴͚̙͎̱͔͈̳̭̙͕̠̣̻͐̕͜͜e̴͍͔͙͙͎̞͖͙̩̼͊̌̄m̶̨̨̧̛̞͈̳̰̩̖̞̟̘̩̩̤͈̰.̶̢̮̺̮͎̞̞̼̼͓̈́́̔̎͐̒͑͛"
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HEAD. - An Inanimate Insanity Fanfic
HorrorInspired by auzipopz's "where's yo head at" animation. OJ sifts through his memory for answers of a murder. Only OJ knows what happened, but can he stay on the right moral path in time to figure out who killed Pickle? Or will he succumb to the lies...
