i can’t be the only one who felt like i was metaphorically banging on the window, desperately screaming to dan and cleo, right? when dan says the mc’s name i was so fucking mad i couldn’t respond.
A/N: Hi friends, hello. Here's the start of the novelization I talked about a while back. This is just the intro to the first chapter, so think of it almost as a prologue, if that makes sense. Obviously spoilers through chapter 10 of the game, so don't read if you're avoiding those. Anyways. Here it is:
You don’t know how you got here. Not really.
If they asked you- everyone, all of them, Thomas and Cleo and Dan and Lilly and Jessy and Hannah and-
And not Jake. Not Jake, because Jake was stuck in the mines. Stuck with Richy, and the fire, and the unstable mineshafts and the dark and the cold and-
“(Y/N).” Alan breaks you from your train of thought. “(Y/N), I’m sorry. But I need to ask you a few questions about tonights events.” You nod. “How did you get here?”
I don’t know, you think. “I took a train.” You answer, because Alan means ‘What was your mode of transportation to Duskwood?’ and not ‘How did you come to know these people so intimately that thier loss has shattered something deep inside you?’
“I took the earliest train I could get out of Grand Central Station to Duskwood.” You pause, thinking of the frantic way you’d run to the ticket booth, of how the minutes it took to get your ticket felt like hours, and how the couple of hours on the train itself felt like eons. “It was only a few hours.” You continue, “I didn’t tell the others I was coming. They didn’t know until-” You gesture vaguley, still not comfortable acknowleding the nights events outloud.
“You didn’t tell any of them?” It seems to have genuinely shocked him, and that, in turn, surprises you. “Not Jessy, or Thomas?” You shake your head. “Why?”
“I didn’t want to worry them.” You shrug. “After everything else with Richy, and you finding Hannah, I didn’t-” You swallow against the lump in your throat. “I didn’t want them to worry about someone else being in danger.”
“But someone else was in danger, (Y/N).” Your eyes close against the harsh truth of the words, and you force yourself not to respond. “Jake Donfort was in danger.”
“I don’t know who that is.” You lie. You open your eyes again. Sitting before you is still Chief of Police Alan Bloomgate, this time looking much more sympathetic. He nods. “I don’t, Alan. I don’t know who Jake Donfort is.”
“I believe you, (Y/N).” He pauses, making sure to hold your eye contact. “I think that’s all we need from you, now. End of interview.” The click of the recorder puncuated the following silence. You stare at Alan in confusion.
“What-”
“You should get some rest, (Y/N).” He fixes you with a stern look. “You’ve had an emotional night.” You nod. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” You nod again, though this time it’s a lie. You didn’t think about what would happen after the mines. You didn’t think about anything but getting to Jake. “Miss Hawkins is outside.”
That grabs your attention. “Jessy is here?” Alan nods, collecting the files and paperwork from the interrogation table in front of you. “I’ve been told she refused to leave when she learned you were being detained for questioning.” You manage a small laugh. “She’s worried. Perhaps you should stay with her tonight. I’m sure the motel will keep your booking.” And something in his voice tells you he knew you were lying.
“Yeah, thanks.” You agree, finally standing from your chair. It bothers you, though. The fact that he didn’t push you about Jake. About knowing him. “Detective Bloomgate-”
“It doesn’t matter, (Y/N).” He cuts you off again. “No one could have-” He pauses, seeming to think over his words. “I’m sorry. But no one could have survived that fire. And even if he could, those shafts were unstable before the fire. I can’t imagine thier state now.” He shakes his head, sighing to himself. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But he’s gone. It doesn’t matter if you knew him on record or not. Jake Donfort is dead.”
He’s right, and you know it, but you don’t understand. You can’t understand how this could be happening.
"Wow, you shouldn't have. Like- morally you shouldn't have."
"Taylor Swift was right, bandaids really don't fix bullet holes." "Oh God, I'm going to bleed to death."
"You're going to do great things, but you're just going to have to do them without me."
"That was a typo." "This is a verbal conversation."
"Hell yeah, baby speak science to me."
"Not everyone can be sad, bisexual and full of human blood."
"The last thing they wanted was to see the stars for a final time. It's the only thing I can think about when I look up at night."
Sources:
First= Diregentleman YouTube - TERRIBLE Two Sentence Horror Stories (ft. Addison Peacock)
Fifth= Me talking about Doc Ock to my friends
Sixth= Addison Peacock
Seventh= Inspired by the end of Carrie
blakekathryn
annaxmalina
stormborns
ellievsbear
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