You Won't Wake Up: A CreepyPasta FanFiction (Watty's 2014)

Birds of Prey: Ticci Toby's POV

I sit, tapping my hands against my lap, sitting in a plush chair, the green fabric is cushy, the most comfortable chair I've sat in seven years. I'm the only one in the room, they had informed me that I would be meeting my lawyer today, someone the government asked to be all of our lawyers. At least Clockwork won't have to worry about going on trial. It's been a day since, and I still can't wrap my head around the fact that she's dead. That she's gone. That everything that made up Clockwork was taken away as simple as that. Last time they told me, it's ten minutes to ten.
Sunshine leaks in through a poorly draped window, as the door clicks open. I look up, marveling at the fact that apparently our lawyer doesn't want us to wear handcuffs in their presence. A man walks in, leading someone by the handcuffs, like leading a dog. The prisoner is recognizable, but his face is battered badly, with a black eye and an apparent broken nose. But I'm in the same condition ever since I tried my little escapade last night.
"Hey, Toby." He greets me, noticing the broken goggles looped around my neck. The lawyer had demanded that we be allowed to wear our masks or anything like that that makes us feel comfortable. I guess thats just what they want; for us to feel comfortable. But we still have to wear the prison garb, I guess it's customary.
"Hey, Jeff." I greet him back, noting slightly the way he grimaces in pain as he sits down, how he favors one leg over the other. His hair, normally hanging down by his face in greasy waves, is pulled into a loose ponytail. The guard unlocks his handcuffs, as Jeff than absentmindedly rubs his wrists, his gaze distant, his eyes focusing on something I can't see.
"Why is your hair like that?" I ask, flipping his ponytail up. He cringes, a forced smile on his face.
"Because apparently they don't want me to wear my hair like I normally do." He fakes a laugh, and pulls out the ponytail, his hair falling back to frame his head.
"What's wrong?" I ask, pointing out his behavior. He sighs, and gives me a look.
"Well, we've been arrested, so there's that."
"You know what I mean." I say, determined.
He inhales through his nose, giving out a loud exhale through his nostrils, "Jane's dead."
I nod, a little surprised at his reaction. He seems to be mourning her death, almost. Didn't she hate him and try to kill him all the time?
"Why are you sad?" I blurt out, forgetting to try and stop the phrase.
"It's just. It's over. We had that whole rivalry, if you could call it that, and they ended the game." He says, looking down at his hands in his lap. He won't meet my eye, and when he does, it's filled with guilt.
The door clicks open again, and I jerk my head to the newcomer. Her hair covers her face, as she looks down, the issued prison garb absorbing her body. She lifts her head, and sees me.
"Oh my god. Toby!" She says, as she tries to take a step towards me. I stand up, in a daze, as I try to get to her before she falls again. Before she's eaten by the wolves again. She stumbles, but doesn't fall, as she takes another uneasy step, and the door shuts. Once the click sounds, alerting us it's locked again, she rushes into me, tackling me to the ground. I look up back into her eyes, at the toxic green one, and the clock firmly embedded in the other's eye socket.
Clockwork.
I hug her, as we just lay on the floor, her on top of me, as I just thank God for once. I thank him for allowing me one miracle, for one last chance. She stands up, her leg shaking, and outstretches a hand to me. I grasp it, as I get to my feet. I take her other hand, words escaping me.
"I-I thought you were dead. They told me you were." I stammer out, as her face twists to rage.
"They told me you were dead, too. They had taken a picture of your body somewhere, but I guess you had been unconscious. You're alive though. You're alive," she sighs, as I notice a glimmer in her eye, "you're okay."
Then something comes over me. I lean down to her, closing my eyes, and crash my lips against hers, wrapping my arms firmly around her waist. Her arms wrap around my neck as she pulls me closer.
"I know it's hard, but can you two get a room?" Jeff asks with sarcasm lacing the edges of his tone, and I feel Clockwork unravel one arm from around my neck, as I hear a sound of a slap.
"Sorry, I asked." Jeff says with mock bitterness, as I continue to kiss Clockwork. She pulls away, her arms still looped around my neck, as her hand hovers over my face, then she hesitantly touches it. I edge my face into her palm, as she lowers her hand and hugs me again. I close my eyes in bliss, my one wish finally granted.
Jeff, not surprisingly, lets out a sound of disgust.
"Shut up, Jeff." Clockwork snaps, not moving from my chest.
"Well, if you two had stopped making out you might've noticed that Jack is here." Jeff points out, as we let go, my cheeks flushing. I brush my hand through my hair awkwardly, as Clockwork mutters a greeting to him.
"Hi, Jack." She mutters, slightly embarrassed, stretching out the single syllable words.
"Hey." He says nonchalantly, not in anyway affected by our reunion.
"Hey." I say, and he chuckles slightly.
"Well, looks like we're supposed to catch up, right?" He asks, gesturing to the six chairs set out in front of the wooden desk.
"I guess." Jeff says, settling into two chairs from the right. Jack sits next to him, leaving two chairs on either side of them. Clockwork sits at the far end, as I settle down into the chair next to Jeff.
"Well, let's go over this. Why were you two deciding that now was the best time for a make out session?" Jack asks, the bored tone we've all grown to hate and love in his voice.
"I thought Clockwork was dead. They told me she had collapsed at the prison and that she was dead." I mutter, as Clockwork nods.
"And I was told that Toby had escaped in the forest and he had been shot down trying to run. They had a picture of his body in some room in the woods." Clockwork explains, as Jack nods.
"Wait, Toby, you didn't get arrested when we were all arrested?" Jack clarifies. I nod, as he continues, "What happened?"
The door clicks open, as Masky is herded in, his shoulders hunched over. He shuffles forward, and turns obediently around, waiting for the guard to unlock his handcuffs.
"Hello." He intones, and walks over to sit in the chair next to Jack.
"Hey, Masky." I greet him, as he nods in my direction.
"Well, isn't this jolly good fun?" He says bitterly, his leg crossed jauntily over the other.
Another door click, and Hoodie is led into the room. Again, he repeats the exact precision process of getting his handcuffs removed, and he sits next to Masky, at the far end.
"Hey." He waves, as we all nod or wave in return.
"We're playing a game of catchup." Jack explains, nodding to me to continue.
I take a deep breath, as I then explain everything, first explaining what had happened before Clockwork had been arrested. Then, as I finally delve into the whole kidnapping escapade, and the glitch, and how the Rake had attacked us, and who had taken the pictures, is when Jeff finally interrupts.
"Wait, wait, wait, you said Jack and Jill had known who had taken the pictures? And they didn't tell us!" He says angrily, balling his hands into fists, as I nod.
"Yes, but they didn't want to drag us into what the felt was their problem, something they had started just by existing." I explain, as Jack holds up a finger to interrupt me.
"Wait, please explain."
"Well, Theodore, who had taken the pictures, first really started when he found out about Laughing Jack, in turn he discovered Laughing Jill, and then he became fully obsessed. Jack and Jill felt that it was their fault, the boy who had imagined Jack was Theodore's uncle, and if it hadn't been for Jack we wouldn't be in this mess technically. But honestly, the kid was too curious. He would constantly try to discover new things, and in turn he knew all of our origins, excepting Masky and Hoodie."
"He knew all of our origins?" Clockwork bursts out, a look of fear flashing across her face for a second.
"Well, what were they?" Jeff questions suddenly, chewing his fingernails.
"Uh, he knew Jill's, and how that little girl had thought her up and then the doctor's thought the littler girl was insane, and-"
"We know Jack and Jill's backgrounds. What else?" Jeff presses, his look desperate.
"He knew mine." I mutter, as Masky stands up in outrage.
"What? We're not supposed to know-" he trails off, combing his hands through his hair, the unevenly cut strands spiking up.
"You were in a car crash. Fatal, killing your sister. Your father didn't seem to care, so in turn you killed him and in a vain attempt to cover up what you had done, you set the entire neighborhood on fire, thus in turn killing sentencing the children who had teased and bullied you when you were younger due to your severe case of Tourette's. They never recovered the body, in fact, all that had been left was a simple gray striped piece of fabric." Jack repeats fluently, as I look at him, mouth agape.
"How-"
"I have my sources." He states simply, gesturing for me to continue.
I nod, and continue, "He knew all of ours, but he couldn't finish the other ones. The police had managed to pinpoint our location, and we could no longer teleport together. I told Jack, Jill, and Sally to leave, and then we had some company. The Rake came, killed most of the police men, and then left. They teleported just as the rest of the police force came in. Then I was arrested, but not before being beaten to the ground and tazed."
"So that's how they got the picture of your body." Clockwork mumbles, mostly to herself, as I continue.
"I came here, and then an interviewer had an interview with me, but not before a police man told me Clockwork had collapsed at the prison and was dead. I was, unstable, to say the least, and then-" I try to recollect myself before I continue, still reeling at what happened, "And then, during the interview, I found out Jane had been hunted down in the city after escaping, and she killed herself in an attempt to escape. And then, just as I was about to try and kill someone, something, something happened. My handcuffs were unlocked, and the men who entered in to try and subdue me were thrown into a wall. One had broke his neck after being whipped into a wall, and the other two were being strangled by, I think Slender. I killed the interviewer, and then I guess Slender couldn't hold them off any longer, and then, well, here I am." I finish weakly, as Masky stands up slowly, looking at me.
"Toby, a similar thing happened to me."
"What?" I ask, leaping up.
"Is he only helping his proxies?" Hoodie asks, looking at the two of us.
"I guess." I respond, noting the bitterness in his voice. Hoodie wasn't technically a Proxy, therefore, I guess he wasn't in a hit and miss mission to escape.
"What happened, Masky?" Jack asks, looking at him with a pointed look somehow.
"Well, I was in my hospital room, and these two nurses were gossiping, and I asked for my mask, and those assholes wouldn't give it to me. So I retaliated, and then this girl, about mid twenties, appeared, and told them they were dismissed. She never gave me a name, and I talked to her. She seemed to know where exactly to push my buttons, but I figured her out. Her father is Chief of Police, so of course some strings were pulled so she could talk to one of us. Once I figured that out, I confirmed this, and she finally gave me my mask. We talked some more, and then, she told me that Hoodie didn't have a huge chance to recover. Then we had a lovely discussion on morales and the like, and once I was really furious and ready to kill her, my handcuffs and leg restraints were unlocked. I was able to get her off guard, but considering the fact I was just in surgery, she somehow overpowered me. Then she was thrown to the wall, and the lights were flickering, and I could just barely see all these tendrils snaking around her neck. And then I asked her name, and then I ran out the hall just as the door closed and the tentacles released her. From there I saw Clockwork, and she was standing outside her door. She was unresponsive, and she told me Toby had died, and then as we were about to escape, they caught up to us and took us into official custody and we were off to jail." Masky finishes, still in slight shock about his story. It is a rather insane one, but similar to mine in the sense that Slender helped us once our adrenaline was running, and that we still couldn't manage to get out.
"Then, we should figure out everyone's ordeals before today." Jack suggests.
"Jane's dead." Jeff announces, his voice quiet.
"What?"
"Holy shit!"
"What?"
Cries of outrage circulate, as Jeff raises his hand for silence, "She escaped from the prison, and she was being chased by the cops. She led them to a building, and she jumped off of it."
"Then that would mean-" The door clicks open, interrupting Jack mid sentence. A woman stands in the door way, her black hair chopped into a short pixie cut, the bangs curling against her forehead. The smile settled on her face is warm, yet the look in her eyes are those of a vulture's, picking apart out corpses and seeing what to make use of them.
She walks briskly into the room, placing a leather briefcase onto the desk, and she sits on the edge of it, smiling at us with the peculiar vulture smile.
"Well, how are you?" She asks in a delicate voice, sounding as if it could snap from a simple whisper. Murmurs of fine and shrugging of shoulders are scattered throughout the room, as her smile widens, the delight in her eyes genuine.
"My name is Maylin Kuang." She announces, in the same paper thin voice, a triumphant gleam in her brown eyes. "Well, don't be frightened of me, I'm your lawyer. I'm not gonna bite your heads off." The vulture look stays perched in her eyes, as she looks at us expectantly.
"Uh, Clockwork." Clockwork introduces herself hesitantly, and Maylin Kuang simply nods.
"Real name?" She asks, looking at with a piercing stare.
"N-natalie Oulette."
"You?" She asks, looking at me with the vulture's eyes.
"Toby. Toby Rogers." She looks at Jeff, almost as if she's pointing at him. The authoritative air she holds is stunning, it dazes you. Self confident, self assured.
"Jeffrey Woods." She looks at Jack next, who is leaning back nonchalantly in his chair. If there's anyone to question her authority, it's him.
"Eyeless Jack." He states simply, as if he's about to yawn. She gives him a pleasant smile, but the glitter in her eyes is interested, not warm.
"Real name." She demands, not asking.
"Eyeless Jack." He repeats again, as she smiles, a snake preparing to strike.
"Well, I know that's not your real name, and that you're doing this not to question my authority, but simply because you know that if you tell, I'll be able to find your background, thus this renders you useless, squirming under my thumb like an ant on a hot's summer day. Now, please, Jack, if you could make up a last name on the spot with that large brain of yours that holds all those 'sources', that would be fantastic." She smiles sweetly at him on the last line, the eloquent words reaching Jack's ears.
"Jack S-smith." He improvises, as she nods, the smile softening around the edges.
"You?" She asks pointedly, looking at Masky.
"Masky."
"I'm going to tell you something that you may not be aware of. I know that you don't know your name. Based on what I've seen while studying you two, is that while you kill you sometimes seem not to be aware of it, and during your little escapade, Masky, it was clear that you couldn't control what was happening. So come up with something." The words aren't nearly as harsh now, they almost seem gentle. She knows that he doesn't know his name, as Jack does.
"I was called Tim, once." Masky mutters, and she nods gratefully.
"Go from there."
"Tim, uh, Tim Johnson." He wonders aloud, as she nods.
"Perfect." She says, the short, almost unevenly chopped black hair bouncing around her face. It curls past her ears, a dark blotch against her pale skin.
"You?" She asks, turning her gaze to Hoodie.
"Br-brian. I think." He mumbles uncertainly, as she nods encouragingly for him to continue, "Brian Williams."
"Well, now that that is settled, let's get started, shall we?" She looks at us, as she continues to half sit, half stand against the desk. Her wardrobe is black, a black blazer with black pants, spare for the pristine white flats.
"Now from what I've seen, you're ruthless serial killers who realize the error of their ways, but don't want to stop. You're all self aware of what you're doing, and you enjoy it. Can we base this on mental illnesses? Possibly. It's highly probable, but there's the sense that while being interviewed, all of you seemed mentally stable, despite what the doctor's wrote about you. Now, I'm going to throw everything at you, so brace yourselves. You're altogether going to be charged, due to the high rate of crimes all of you committed. 4,983 counts of breaking and entering. One count of kidnapping, if you want to know ask your friend Toby here. And finally, 5,323 counts of murder, all first degree, due to the wonderful fact that you all planned it, even if you swear some of them were on spur of the moment, they are going to count it as first degree no matter what." She finishes rattling of the statistics in the quiet voice, and as she finishes she gives us all an almost sadistic smile, as she relishes in what this means.
"You all seem to know what you're doing, so I'm going to cut to the chase. I've never lost a case before, and this case has losing all over it. Why did I take it? Simple, really. You people fascinate me. The reason I went into this job was for personal gain, I wanted to be paid to work with some of the worst people around, and still psychologically and mentally win against my opponents. When they said they needed a lawyer for the six of you, I obviously offered my services. A chance to work with you is my dream job, if you will. Now I'm going to give you a basic summary of what I've just rambled about; I am a human being, as you six are, I am a selfish being who cares more about my own satisfactions and gains than yours, and the only reason I try to win my cases are because I know that if I've won I've made a personal gain. I intend to lose this case, but to go down with a fight, if you understand. Basically, I took this case because it gives a boost to me, while I get to interact with you. And I'm not going to ask if you understand because if you're able to get away with about 500 counts of first degree murder each, then you can understand human nature very well." She looks at us individually, her bird of prey look becoming more pronounced, as I realize she's been the most realistic off all of us with her humanity.
"And what's in it for us?" Jack asks, crossing his arms.
"Is this a deal on the black market, Mr. Smith? Because I am well aware how keen you are with those." She gives him a sickly sweet smile, the edge in her voice almost unrecognizable.
If I had to describe Maylin Kuang word it would be simply one word: human.