🌸𝕄ℂ𝕐𝕋 𝕆ℕ𝔼𝕊ℍ𝕆𝕋𝕊🌸 (SMALL HIATUS)

🌸Quackity🌸 - Haunting

Words: 1620

"AYYY THAT MOTHERFUCKERS DEAD!" Quackity shouted out at the top of his voice as he swalled down a piece of beetroot named 'Jschlatt's heart'. The rest of L'manberg started cheering while holding bones and other objects re-titled to Jschlatt's body parts, it was really disgusting when you think about it. The man in question watched down, an emotion on his face that no one could quite explain. It's not like most people could see it anyway; he was the dead president, ex-president of Manberg. He watched as Quackity, Fundy, Tommy, Tubbo and the rest of those traitors cheered at his death. Despite being branded as the big bad guy, Schlatt still viewed as the bad guys. He was democratically voted into office and all he was given was false friendships and a heart attack. To say that he was angry was an understatement. Sure the goat man may have missed his and Quackity's weddings and probably not have treated the best he could've, but did that really entail them cremating his body and cheering at his demise?

Schlatt still had no idea how this whole ghost thing worked, even though he had been deceased for over a week now. Apparently, everyone has been able to see Wilbur and interact with him, but he's lost most of his memories; specifically all the bad ones. Schlatt was debating on going up and talking to Wilbur, if anyone could help him with this ghost thing it would be him; but it would be quite hard to explain their relationship to Wilbur, especially the whole 'you blew up L'manberg.' Schlatt was never the most social person, during his presidency he was mostly held up in his room, but being alone in the afterlife was extremely, extremely lonely. Despite how much he wanted to just talk to his "friends" the other, more reasonable, side of him wanted revenge. And he's going to get it, no matter what it takes...

——

An entire week had passed after the funeral of ex-president Jschlatt, and everything seems to have returned to normal. Tubbo, being the new president of L'manberg after his good friend Tommy declined the role, started construction on the new L'manberg; and it was progressing quite well. The ghost of Wilbur appeared and was now referring to himself as 'Ghostbur', he's got amnesia and doesn't know that he's a war criminal, and know he lives in the sewers. Everything seemed to be going well. Well atleast it had been on the outside. Quackity, the sexytary of state, had been radio silent recently, held up in his room. The boy has been experiencing some sleeping problems recently. Whether that be waking up at the dead of night for no reason, not being able to fall asleep at all due to the feeling of being watched or just his paranoia being off the charts and not being able to function.

It had been a long few months for Quackity. From leader of Swag2020, to Vice President of Manberg, to Schlatt's 'husband', to Pogtopia recruit and now the sexytary of state of New L'manberg. But the worse was yet to come for his mental health. His sweet words dripped with poison as the man he grew to despise visited him at his bedside once again. "Good evening Vice President. Going to sleep already?" Quackity could almost feel those caramel ram horns press against his face, but that was impossible, a mere hallucination. Schlatt was dead, unable to interact with the living. But still, his voice ringed through his ears, shocking him into a state of fear and stillness. The ghost of Schlatt slivered his way from the door frame of Quackity's room to the foot of his bed. Quackity could barely see Schlatt's tattered suit and scuffed up hair, his semi-transparent body and lack of lighting didn't really help.

"What do you want Schlatt?" Quackity was able to mutter out, his body still bolted to his bed. "Every night I've appeared at your door frame and every night you ask me the same question. I thought you were smart, Quackity? Maybe it was a mistake making you vice president in the first place." Schlatt sneared through a hoarse voice, it seems the side affects of alcohol poisoning and drug overdose carried over into the afterlife. "Can't you just leave me alone, Schlatt? You're dead! Go burn in hell or whatever ghosts like you are supposed to do." Quackity shout-whispered. It was hard to tell the time anymore after being locked up in his room for the past few days, but just incase it was late he wanted to keep quiet as to not draw suspicion. "Burn in hell? Well that's quite mean, how could you say that to your husband? You were the one who wanted to get married or whatever."

That shut up the young boy. Everything the two did together suddenly rushed back to him; the marriage, the two of them working tirelessly over the safety of Manberg, Schlatt getting particulary drunk with Ponk and Purpled and Quackity having to take care of them. The good-ish times before the big argument over the white house and Quackity's "betrayal" of Manberg. "Yeah well, that was in the past. I only wanted what's best for L'manberg, I was stupid to agree to join you." Quackity muttured out, he could feel his knuckles turn a snow white as he clutched his bed sheets below him. "Atleast you're admitting to your own stupidity." Quackity's eyebrows furrowed at this. For the past few days now he had isolated himself in his own room, all because of the suited bastard infront of him. "SHUT UP!" He shouted, finally snapping and letting out all his inner hatred and anger.

But instead of being shocked by the boy's sudden outburst, he smirked; smirked his devilish smile like he always does when he knows he's won. The door suddenly swang open, revealing a young boy with scruffy blonde hair; as soon as Tommy appeared, Schlatt dissapeared into the air like a speck of dust. "Big Q? You alright?" Tommy asked, a look of concern of his face as he walked over to Quackity. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah I'm alright." He looked up in Tommy's general direction, but made sure to avoid eye contact for some reason. "You screamed quite loudly, and you've been in your room for like a few days. A-are you crying?" Tommy asked, moving his head to get a better look at his face. Quackity somehow didn't notice it, but he was indeed crying. Two streams of aqua tears found it's way on his face, turning his eyes into a puffy red and his whole demeanor down.

"Listen Big Q. I know we joke around a lot and say some pretty mean things sometime but I genuinely do care about you; and if you ever have a problem then you can come and speak to me, I won't judge you." Tommy said, sitting down beside Quackity on his dark blue bed and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Getting more comfortable amd wrapping a blanket around his figure, he took in a deep breath and began to speak, "This is gonna sound really fucking stupid but, ever since Schlatt's funeral I keep on seeing his ghost, or atleast I think it's his ghost. Whenever I want to go to sleep or do anything, he just appears and paralyses me and just fucking torments me before I pass out from exhaustion. Is this some sort of revenge for betraying him?" Quackity vented on as Tommy listened intently.

"So, the ghost of Schlatt is haunting you because you betrayed him after joining Pogtopia?" Tommy asked, a comforting smile on his face as Quackity nodded sadly. "Oh, I thought someone died based off your girly scream." Tommy chuckled and Quackity followed, Tommy just seemed to have that aura that cheered up everyone around him. "You're acting suprisingly calm, especially since I told you I'm getting haunted by an ex-president and drug addict who had a heart attack." Quackity smiled, returning to his regular personality of cracking jokes and bits. "Well, I'm sure there's been stranger things."

Tommy stood up, adjusting the sleeves on his red and white t-shirt. "Tubbo and Fundy are probably doing some political shit if you'd like to join them. You are sexytary of state after all." Tommy tossed over his dark blue beanie and flashed him one more friendly smirk as Quackity bolted up from his bed and ran out of his depressing room.

Tommy's POV
Quackity bounced up and ran out of his dark room with a new found excitment. The air began to grow cold as the hairs on the back of his neck. "Oh, hello again Tommy." A hoarse voice said as a hint of sunflower yellow appeared in his peripheral. "... Hello Wilbur." The ghost man frowned at this, "I told you to call me Ghostbur. I don't like being called Wilbur, apparently I did a lot of bad things, and I don't want to relate myself to him." Wilbur said, floating through the crisp air infront of the blondette. "What do you want, Ghostbur." Tommy said, tapping his foot lightly against the hardwood floor. It probably wasn't the ghost man's fault, but whenever he came near his senses and emotions would go haywire, basically ruining any chances of social interactions; so of course he wasn't happy to see him. "Oh right, right, so I found this room near L'manberg. They have all these signs and a button, and Presiden Tubbo wouldn't let me go in there, so I was wondering why, do you know why, Tommy?"

Shit.