#imprison jail

[princessisfrench]

"What is Sewer Toys about"

And I tell them it's just five dumb kids fighting a lighthouse

(Inspired by @nytengu's Fear & Hunger edit)

[princessisfrench]

Little Nightmares: Sewer Toys

| Chapter 5: Broken Things, Precious Things |

The silence was heavier now. The shrine’s candlelit glow flickered like breath. No one wanted to speak until Jail, voice low and unsure, finally asked.

“What are we supposed to give…?”

Knuckles, who had been still until now, tilted his head toward the frame.

“Something that matters to you. Something… you care about.”

Without hesitation, Jail dug into the pocket of his tattered clothes. His fingers curled around the rusty iron key he’d kept all this time. The one he found in the prison, the one he swore would unlock something important someday. He hesitated only for a second before tossing it onto the floor before the Lightkeeper’s image. The key hit the stone with a metallic clang and lay still.

Princess watched, then slowly reached for her pink ribbon, the one tied neatly around her waist like it was always meant to be there. Her hands trembled. She undid it, and the ribbon unfurled, falling from her fingers like a petal.

Her dress slipped, suddenly oversized without the ribbon’s grip. It sagged over one shoulder, baring the pale skin beneath. She looked vulnerable, fragile in a way none of them had seen before.

Damsel stepped forward quietly and draped her arms around Princess’s shoulders.

“I have something better that will fit you. A brand new dress.” she whispered, gently guiding the girl toward a side corridor of the shrine. “Just put your tiny friend down.”

Light stood still for a long moment, before removing the star-shaped ties from her twin pigtails. Her thick ginger hair fell loosely around her face and shoulders. She hesitated, like she was parting with something sacred. The last piece of her sister’s memory.

But she threw the ties into the offering pile anyway.

Knight followed. From his neck, he unhooked a metal chain. Cold and dented, a remnant from the hospital bed he was once tied to. He stared at it in his palm before letting it fall with the others.

Then the question broke the silence again.

“…Where’s Null?”

Everyone looked around. Void turned his head sharply toward the shadows.

Jail blinked, suddenly aware.

“I’ll go find him,” he offered quickly, his voice already full of concern. He didn’t wait for approval, he was already running toward the tunnels, disappearing into the dark in search of his friend.

Jail stood in the dim corridor, his breath quiet, eyes scanning the shadows until he finally saw him, Null, hunched and curled up in a dark corner where the faint light couldn’t reach. The boy looked small again. Vulnerable. His arms were wrapped around his knees, face hidden, but the quiet sniffling had betrayed him long before.

“…Null?” Jail whispered, careful not to startle him.

Null didn’t answer. His shoulders were stiff, and he rubbed his face roughly with his sleeve, trying to erase any trace of what had already been seen.

Jail stepped closer, crouching down beside him. “I know it hurts,” he said softly. “Chunks… He mattered to all of us. But especially to you.”

“I’m not crying over Chunks,” Null muttered coldly, but his voice was unsteady. “I don’t cry.”

Jail didn’t push him. He just sat there beside him in silence, letting the gloom settle over them like a blanket. “Okay,” he said finally. “Then maybe you’re crying because you’re human. That’s not weak, Null. That’s what makes you different from them.”

A beat passed. Null’s hands trembled slightly.

“They want you to give something to the shrine,” Jail added gently. “Something important to you. We all gave something. But you don’t have to rush.”

Null stayed still for a moment, but then his head slowly turned toward Jail. His eyes were red and wet, though he tried hard to hide them beneath his hair. “I don’t have anything important,” he whispered.

Jail tilted his head. “You sure? I think you do. But… it’s your choice.”

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Then Null finally exhaled, a shaky breath that might’ve been relief, or surrender.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll come.”

And they stood up together in the darkness.

As Null and Jail walked side by side through the sewer’s dim corridor, the sound of soft humming floated in the air. Light, childish, almost melodic. It surrounded them like a fog, distant and haunting, yet oddly familiar.

They stopped.

Jail looked around. “Do you hear that…?”

Null nodded, his face pale. “I do. But where is it coming from?”

There was no one in sight, only the shadows, the wet stone, the flickering drips of water falling from the pipes. The humming continued for a few more seconds, then faded away as if the walls themselves had swallowed it whole.

They looked at each other, unsettled, but continued walking.

Eventually, the glow of candlelight guided them back to the shrine where the others waited. As they stepped into the room, the air felt heavier, thick with silence and waxy smoke. Null paused at the edge of the shrine and reached into his pocket. Slowly, carefully, he pulled out a small wooden toy. An old, hand-carved boat.

Its edges were chipped from years of being held too tightly. Its little sail had a golden eye drawn on it, now faded. He stared at it for a moment, then walked forward and placed it gently in front of the picture of the Lightkeeper.

A silent offering.

Everyone watched as he stood there, motionless.

Then Null finally spoke, his voice low and tired. “What is all of this?”

Void stepped forward slowly, wary of the tension still lingering in the group. “It’s the Lightkeeper’s shrine,” he answered. “We give him something that means everything to us. In return… he watches over us. Or lets us pass through.”

Null’s eyes narrowed. “And the eye?” he asked.

Void looked to the others, then back to Null. “The eye is the Lightkeeper. Or at least, part of him. He sees through everything. Hears everything. He lives inside the cracks of this place. The old walls. The forgotten corners. And when he sees something he likes…” Void's voice lowered, “…he waits.”

The group went silent again.

Princess gently adjusted her slipping dress. Light’s loose hair hung down her back like curtains. Knight was still staring at the shrine, unmoving. Damsel was behind, changing Princess' dress into a new one.

The room was still. Watching. Listening.

And in that quiet, the faintest creak echoed from somewhere behind the walls.

The Lightkeeper was resting.

As the tension in the shrine slowly faded into silence, the soft sound of footsteps and a swish of fabric caught everyone's attention.

Damsel stepped forward, gently guiding Princess out from behind a dusty curtain.

The change was striking.

Princess now wore a long, white dress made from stitched-together silk scraps and embroidered lace, a garment too elegant for a place like this. It hugged her small frame perfectly, the fabric swaying gently as she moved. Her blonde hair had been carefully rebrushed and curled into soft, wavy locks that framed her face. Even the dirt on her cheeks had been wiped away.

She looked like someone from another world. Clean, glowing, out of place in the ruins.

Damsel smiled, folding her hands. “I thought she should look perfect… for the celebration later,” she said proudly. “It’s what we all deserve.”

Princess stood awkwardly under their stares, gently holding the ends of her dress. She didn’t say anything, but her cheeks turned faintly pink. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention. It made her nervous. Still, there was something fragile and regal about her presence now, like a doll on a shelf too delicate to touch.

The group was silent for a moment.

Even Light, who always hovered protectively, looked briefly taken aback. Dusk whispered something under her breath and looked away.

Knight couldn’t take his eyes off her. His shoulders relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever, as though seeing her like this pulled him out of the fear and rot of the world around them. He took a step forward but stopped himself, lowering his head slightly.

Then, attention slowly shifted.

Prison knelt beside the limp figure of Chunks, still lying on the floor like a broken toy. Null joined him without a word, his face unreadable, though his eyes still held pain.

With gentle care, they began untwisting Chunks’s limbs. His stubby arms and legs had been bent at painful angles. Null carefully aligned one arm as Chunks let out a weak croak. Prison pulled out scraps of cloth from his coat and began wrapping the limbs tightly, fashioning makeshift bandages from whatever they had.

“I think… if we wrap them tight and don’t move him too much… he might be okay,” Prison muttered.

Null nodded, brushing a bit of dread from Chunks’s cracked shell. He didn’t say anything, but the way his hands moved, slow, careful, focused, said everything.

Princess crouched beside them, watching with wide, glistening eyes. She said nothing either. Just reached down and gently rested a hand on Chunks’s head as if silently apologizing.

It was clear.

Right now, Chunks mattered more than anything.

Even the dress. Even the celebration. Even the prophecy.

They were all finally starting to protect something real.

Light sat in the corner of the shrine, her knees pulled to her chest, eyes fixed on the floor, but her thoughts were somewhere far away, circling the same guilt like a vulture.

Chunks wouldn’t be like this if Void hadn't scared him off.

She stared across the room at the others, her throat tightening.

Even Knight and Jail who were always quick to defend, hadn’t been able to stop what happened. They were too late. She remembered Princess’ crying face. Chunks’ limp body. The way the boys had dropped him when they ran. The way she had let herself become a monster just to protect him.

A shaky breath escaped her.

Void stood nearby, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His shadow danced behind him in the candlelight as he stared blankly at Chunks like he wasn’t even there. There was no regret in his face. No fear. No sorrow. Just silence.

Light’s fists clenched.

He doesn’t care. He never cared.

She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. Her vision blurred with tears she refused to let fall.

Then she felt a small presence beside her.

Dusk.

The quiet girl with the melted candle on her head had silently taken a seat next to her. Her expression was calm, maybe even sad. The faint scent of wax drifted between them as she leaned her shoulder gently against Light’s, wordless.

Light didn’t pull away.

She didn’t say anything either.

Because what could she say? She couldn’t rewind time. She couldn’t change what she’d done. And Chunks… Chunks was still lying there with broken limbs, barely moving.

Even in the shrine’s warm glow, guilt clung to Light’s back like a second skin.

But Dusk’s presence, soft and quiet, was a small flicker of warmth.

For now, it was the only comfort she had.

Prison knelt beside Chunks, carefully examining the wrapped limbs and bruised shell. His face was tight with concern. He adjusted one of the makeshift bandages, gently tightening it. “We shouldn’t move him anymore,” he said, glancing up at Null. “If we keep twisting and bending him, it might make things worse.”

Null’s hands hovered over Chunks, fingers trembling. He hated how small and quiet Chunks looked now. The Nome didn’t even croak. Just breathed, slow and weak.

“…Alright,” Null muttered. “We’ll leave him like this.”

But his voice was low. Worried.

His eyes flicked toward the far side of the shrine, where Void stood, half-shadowed, arms still crossed, his cold eyes flicking lazily toward the dying Nome from time to time.

Null swallowed.

“Just…” he whispered to Prison, “don’t leave him alone. Not with him here.”

The air was still heavy, no one speaking, until Damsel suddenly stepped forward and broke the silence with a clap of her hands.

“That’s enough mourning,” she said, trying to force brightness into her tone. “You all should get ready.”

“Get ready…?” Jail echoed.

Damsel tilted her head with a soft, almost eerie smile. “For the celebration, of course.”

“Celebration?” Knight signed with his fingers, confused.

“We always hold one when new children enter the sewers,” Damsel explained. “It’s tradition. New faces. New stories. The Lightkeeper watches every moment. So you’ll all need to look your best.”

As she spoke, her eyes turned to Princess who stood silently, her white dress shimmering faintly in the candlelight. Her hair was styled into soft waves now, and her delicate features were framed like a porcelain doll. She looked like a ghost out of a storybook. Too clean, too ethereal for this cruel place.

Princess held her hands together, proud but awkward under everyone’s eyes. The dress fit perfectly, the opposite of the oversized rags before. She gave a small nod and a bashful smile, clearly proud of her transformation.

Null, Jail, and Knight glanced at one another. If they were going to be part of this… they might as well prepare too.

“Alright,” Jail muttered. “I guess we change.”

Knight gave a silent nod.

Even Null gave in.

But Light stayed where she was, seated in the shadows. She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge Damsel. Her long red hair now hung messily over her shoulders where the ties had once been, and her face remained turned away from the others.

She wasn’t interested in dressing up.

Not after what happened to Chunks.

Not with Void still standing there.

And definitely not for a celebration.

Null lingered near the entrance of the shrine, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the dim candlelight flickering across Chunks' still form. The Nome looked too small in that huge, eerie room, wrapped in bandages, limbs twisted, chest rising in weak, shallow croaks.

He didn’t like this.

Not one bit.

“I don’t want to leave him,” Null mumbled to himself.

But Damsel was already guiding the others out. Her steps were graceful, soft, almost rehearsed. “Come now,” she beckoned, voice warm. “The garments are waiting. You’ll all look lovely.”

Jail gently nudged Null’s shoulder, urging him forward. “We won’t be gone long,” he whispered, though he didn’t believe it. He kept glancing at Void who still hadn’t moved.

Void was the last to exit the shrine.

His footsteps were slow, calculated. His expression unreadable, not unlike Null’s own usual numbness, but there was something different behind Void’s blank face. A coldness. A calculation.

Jail watched him closely, narrowing his eyes.

He’s planning something, he thought. He knows it.

As Void passed through the threshold and disappeared into the dark tunnel with the others, Jail didn’t follow right away. He turned back, just briefly, eyes locking onto the faint candlelit shadow of Chunks inside.

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispered under his breath. “We all will.”

Meanwhile, Light walked among the group but wasn’t really with them. Her eyes stayed fixed behind her, staring into the black where the shrine was, where Chunks still lay. The flickers of light had already faded from sight, but her mind was still there.

She had no light left in her face. Just tired hollowness.

Princess noticed, her brows furrowing. Her bare feet padded across the damp stone as she reached for Light’s hand.

“Light…” she began, gently.

But before their fingers could touch, a firm grip yanked her arm away.

It was Knight.

He pulled Princess beside him, not harshly, but with just enough force to make his jealousy clear. His fingers trembled around her wrist. His head was tilted downward, the crack in his bucket revealing only a glimpse of shadowed skin, his lips tight.

Princess tried to speak, but Knight kept walking, leading her ahead through the dim tunnels. He didn’t look back.

Light stood behind, staring after them. She wasn’t angry.

Just… more alone than ever.

In a quiet corner tucked away from the main tunnels, Damsel helped Null change into something more comfortable, something softer than the stiff, rain-soaked clothes he’d grown used to. She carefully draped a simple sea-farer’s shirt over his shoulders, the linen light and slightly oversized, cinched at the waist with a dark rope belt. His pants were loose, cropped just above the ankle, and patched in places like a sailor who’d wandered too long.

“You look like someone meant for the tides,” Damsel smiled, adjusting the golden eye necklace that still hung from his neck. “Fitting… for someone who’s seen what you have.”

Null didn’t respond. He simply stared ahead, the usual emptiness in his expression. But he didn’t stop her.

A few steps away, Jail was finishing up as well. He’d chosen a casual but still strong outfit, black and gray tones, slightly worn, but with a sort of silent authority. He kept his old prison cap, placing it snugly on his head with a defiant look, like it was a piece of himself he refused to give up.

“I’m not takin’ it off,” he muttered when Damsel gave him a curious glance. “It’s mine.”

She didn’t argue.

Knight stood a little awkwardly by himself, clutching at a folded piece of clothing that Damsel had prepared for him. It was a white tunic, soft, flowing, untainted. When he finally slipped it on, it matched Princess’s dress almost perfectly.

He didn’t say it aloud, but the message was clear.

He wanted to match her. To look like her protector. To be someone she could feel safe beside.

And when Princess walked into view again, her wavy blonde hair flowing and her white dress catching the candlelight, Knight stood up straighter beside her, unsure if she’d notice.

She did. But said nothing.

Meanwhile, the others in the Sewer’s Toys; Void, Dusk, Damsel, Prison, and Knuckles were already changing into more comfortable, mismatched outfits. Nothing regal, just lighter clothes, breathable and worn. Their styles echoed their personalities: Prison’s was practical and layered, Dusk’s full of threadbare warmth, and Void’s was eerily similar to Null’s. Just more torn, more used.

But as Damsel looked around, she realized someone was still missing.

“…Light?”

The redhead entered quietly from the shadows. Her hair hung loose now, no longer tied up in stars. Her eyes were empty, her clothes unchanged.

She shook her head slowly.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m not doing this.”

Damsel’s lips parted, as if to plead again, but Light didn’t wait. She simply turned and sat beside the shrine’s wall, distant from the others, far from the glowing lights.

And no one stopped her.

No one could.

They let her stay in the dark.

Null, quiet but watchful, stood just outside the flickering lights of the celebration chamber. His sea-farer’s shirt clung to his damp skin, but he didn’t notice. His gaze was fixed on Light, still alone, still sitting against the cold wall near the shrine, her arms hugging her knees.

“She hasn’t moved,” he muttered. “Someone should comfort her.”

Jail was nearby, adjusting the straps of his outfit. He didn’t even look up.

“I’m busy patchin’ stuff up, and I’ve got an eye on the others,” he said gruffly. “She’s fine.”

Null’s eyes shifted to Knight.

“Knight?”

Knight flinched slightly. His hand tightened around the white sleeve of his tunic. He didn’t answer at first, then shook his head.

Princess gently stepped forward instead. “I’ll go,” she offered, her voice soft and pure. “She needs someone…”

But Knight suddenly turned to face her, his raspy voice breaking the quiet. “No,” he said quickly. “Don’t.”

Princess blinked. “Why not?”

“She’s… dangerous when she’s upset,” Knight added, eyes never leaving the ground. “She might hurt you. Or say something that’ll make you cry.”

The words sat like poison in the air.

It wasn’t anger he spoke with, but fear. Jealous fear. Protective, but misguided.

Princess hesitated. Her expression twisted in confusion, uncertainty forming in her chest. “Oh…”

Knight took her hand. “Just stay here,” he said. “With me.”

Meanwhile, Void watched the scene with quiet amusement from the side, arms folded. His dead eyes observed Light’s hunched figure in the dark with a silent kind of approval.

“She’s sinking,” he muttered to himself.

Dusk stood beside him, her melted candle dripping. “It’s working,” she whispered. “The prophecy is unraveling.”

Prison appeared next, nodding grimly. “Their nome will die soon,” he said. “That’s what the Lightkeeper wants.”

Knuckles added, “This is what always happens. The prophecy gives… and then it takes.”

None of them lifted a finger to help Light.

None of them spoke to her.

They just… watched.

And slowly, quietly, Light felt it.

The crushing weight of being alone in a room full of children.

As the last of the children slipped into their new clothes, Damsel clapped her hands softly and smiled, signaling it was time. “Let’s not keep them waiting,” she said, her voice warm but laced with tension. One by one, the newly dressed children stepped out of the changing corridor and into the dark, round tunnel lit with flickering candles.

Light trailed behind everyone else, silent. Her hair hung down her shoulders, and her steps were slow, as if she didn’t want to be there. Princess walked beside her quietly.

As they reached the end of the tunnel, distant voices grew louder.

Cheers.

Laughter.

Chanting.

The sewer children were gathered again at the platform from earlier, hundreds of them, all barefoot, excitedly crowding the broken walkways and scaffolding above the dark water. They threw up confetti made from torn paper scraps and cloth petals, welcoming the newcomers as if this were some twisted birthday celebration.

That is, until they saw Light and Princess.

The cheering abruptly died.

A hush spread like a sickness.

Whispers turned into shouts.

“There they are!”

“She’s the one who killed that boy!”

“And that girl! She’s the one who protected that nome!”

“They don’t belong here!”

Some of the kids began to throw the confetti at them now. Not in celebration, but in anger. Small paper balls and torn-up rags struck Light and Princess as they stood frozen in place.

Princess stepped back, eyes wide with fear. Light stood in front of her protectively, fists clenched again, but her expression was hollow, tired of being misunderstood.

Jail stepped up beside them, arms crossed. “Wait,” he muttered, glancing at them both. “You two actually fought?”

Light didn’t say anything.

Princess whispered, “I… I tried to save Chunks.”

Jail blinked, impressed. “Huh,” he muttered. “Didn’t think you two had it in you. I mean... no offense, I thought you were both… y’know. Helpless.”

Princess looked down, almost ashamed. But Jail wasn’t insulting her. His tone had a hint of admiration. “Guess I was wrong.”

Knight stood behind them, silent.

He watched Princess, her new white dress smudged slightly with dirt, her soft hands trembling from the attention.

He heard what they were saying about her.

He saw the fear in her eyes.

But all he could feel…

…was disappointment.

She didn’t call for me, he thought bitterly.

She didn’t need me. She fought.

He had always seen her as someone fragile, someone who would always turn to him for help.

Now she was becoming someone who didn’t.

He turned away quietly, hurt curling in his chest like a clenched fist.

Damsel tried to calm the crowd, but the damage had already been done.

The warmth of the celebration had vanished.

The prophecy had begun to divide them.

As the crowd's jeering whispers melted into eerie silence, the atmosphere grew tense. Dozens of rusted, handmade flashlights mounted to the walls began to swivel and point down like spotlights, illuminating Null, Jail, Light, Princess, and Knight, trapping them in the center of attention.

From behind, the Sewer’s Toys stepped forward, casting long shadows behind the five.

Void raised his hand with a dramatic flair and spoke aloud, his voice echoing through the hollow sewer halls.

“Ladies and gentlemen… Witness history repeat itself.”

The children above murmured in awe.

Void continued.

“These five will soon take our place. The prophecy has chosen them to become the new Sewer’s Toys. But first... like us before them... they must prove they’re worthy.”

Null and the others exchanged looks of dread. Princess clutched the edges of her dress. Knight instinctively stepped closer to her, eyes narrowing behind his dented bucket. Light's hands curled into fists. Jail stepped forward, his voice shaking.

“Wait! what are you talking about?”

Void didn’t answer.

Behind him, the crowd started chanting.

“Push them down! Push them down! Push them down!”

The chant grew louder.

Jail turned to stop them, shoving his hand forward.

“No– DON’T–!”

But it was too late.

Knuckles and Prison lunged forward.

Void gave a simple nod.

And the five Sewer’s Toys shoved the children; Null, Jail, Light, Princess, and Knight off the railings.

They plummeted.

Screams echoed for a second before SPLASH–

They landed hard into the filthy, freezing sewer water below.

Pain shot through their limbs as they hit the wet floor. The smell was choking. It wasn’t just water, it was sludge, thick and foul. The fall wasn’t deadly, but it left bruises and aches in their bones.

Princess let out a cry, struggling to sit up, her white dress soaked and stained with brown muck. Knight was already reaching for her, helping her up in silence. Light was gasping, trying to get her bearings. Jail spit out dirty water and growled.

Null… just sat there.

Cold. Wet. Silent.

Looking up at the railings above

…at the four children who pushed them.

…at the crowd cheering as if this were a game.

…at the prophecy slowly becoming real.

This was no celebration.

This was a ritual.

Null remained on the ground, his breathing uneven, covered in foul water and sludge, but his gaze never wavered. He stared up toward the railing where Void stood tall above them. There was no solemnity in Void’s expression. No remorse.

Only a slow, cruel grin spreading across his face.

“Did you really think we’d just hand it over?” Void called down.

“We’ve changed the rules here, Null. This isn’t just about survival anymore. This is about the show.”

Behind him, the children began to cheer, stomping their feet on the rusted metal floors. One child climbed onto a stool and grabbed hold of a rusted lever near the back of the chamber.

Void raised his hand again.

“Let’s make this more… fun.”

Null’s blood ran cold. His eyes snapped to the massive iron gate on the far wall...

the one they had passed earlier,

the one that made the sewers quake when the lever was pulled.

It hit him all at once.

Behind that gate…

…was pressure.

…was water.

Clogged. Waiting. Swollen with force and momentum.

They weren’t just being tested.

They were about to be washed away.

“He’s going to drown us…” Null muttered under his breath, his voice numb and low.

Void’s grin widened as he addressed the crowd.

“Let the countdown begin!”

“FIVE!”

The chanting started again. Echoing off the walls like the toll of a bell.

“FOUR!”

Null’s head snapped to his friends.

Princess was still trying to wring out her soaked dress. Light was shaking from the cold. Knight was glaring up at Void, fists clenched. Jail was coughing, already pushing himself up.

“THREE!”

“Grab onto something!” Null shouted suddenly, his voice loud and sharp.

Everyone looked at him in alarm.

“TWO!”

“NOW! Something heavy! Something high! Tie yourself down if you can– JUST DO IT!”

“ONE!!!!”

With a terrible screech, the lever was pulled.

A distant BOOM shook the chamber.

The enormous iron gate groaned and lurched open.

And with a deafening ROAR, the clogged floodwaters exploded into the sewer pit like a tsunami.

A wall of water surged toward them.

Churning. Violent. Unstoppable.

And all Null could do was hold his breath

…tighten his grip

…and hope his friends were strong enough not to be swept away.

The sound was deafening.

A thunderous wall of water struck the chamber with such violent force that the air itself seemed to tear. It wasn’t just water. It was destruction, chaos, rage. It hit them like a concrete wall.

Null had seconds to react. He threw himself at the broken, rusted ladder, fingers clamping tight around the corroded metal rungs just as the water slammed into his legs, then his torso, like being hit by bricks wrapped in cold knives.

His bones rattled. His breath vanished. But he held on.

“HANG ON!” he cried out. “JUST– JUST HOLD ON!”

But they were crying.

They were just kids. Kids experiencing extreme pain and fear in a place like this...

Princess’s sobs pierced the roar. Her voice was high and trembling, barely heard through the crashing water.

“Light! Knight– please– someone–!”

Null turned his head, rain and sewer water blinding his eyes.

Light was gripping a jagged pipe, but the water was pulling at her legs like hungry claws.

“I can’t–!” she screamed, her fingertips bleeding, skin ripping against the rusted metal–

–until she slipped...!

and vanished into the roaring dark.

“LIGHT!” Jail screamed, choking on water.

Princess was crying louder now, her tiny body shaking as the water tried to rip her away. She slipped, sliding forward!

“I’ve got you!” Knight roared, grabbing her hand, anchoring her.

But then...

CRACK

A heavy wooden branch, twisted and sharp, swept through the flood. It struck Knight hard in the side of the head. His grip loosened.

“No– no–” Princess whimpered.

They were both swept away, vanishing into the dark.

Null watched them disappear, horror twisting his insides.

“No– NO!”

Jail’s breathing became erratic. His hands slipped.

“DAD... I JUST WANT MY DAD–” he whimpered, tears mixing with blood and filth as his body slammed into debris.

He was crying now.

Finally crying.

And then he, too, was gone. Swallowed by the wave.

It was just Null now.

Dangling on the rusted ladder like a broken puppet, fingers white with strain, the bones in his arm burning.

“Chunks…” he whispered, “he’s still... he’s still in the shrine…”

He looked up.

The flood continued to rush beneath him like a liquid train. He couldn’t let go. He had to climb.

Had to fight through.

He had to save his friends. He had to–!

A foot then came down on his hand.

He looked up.

Void was there.

His face cast in flickering candlelight above the flood. Calm. Cruel.

“You just don’t learn, do you?” Void said, pressing down harder.

“You never had what it took. You were never meant to survive here. I can't let you replace us.”

Null grit his teeth, blood pouring from his lips.

“You’re… wrong…”

“You’re weak,” Void whispered. “You couldn’t even protect your little mushroom. You’re not special, Null. You’re just…”

“Pathetic.”

And with one swift kick, Void drove his foot into Null’s face.

The ladder slipped from his fingers.

And Null was gone.

Swallowed by the storm.

Dragged into the dark like all the others.

There really was no hope in the Nowhere.

[princessisfrench]

Little Nightmares: Sewer Toys out of context stuff with these amazing people @heiresstothenest @jupiter-notlost @statiicfox