Chapter Text
Chosen's POV:
This is humiliating.
So, so humiliating.
A coarse rope, or, really, Victim’s lasso, is wrapped tightly around my body. Bound so tight across my chest that it’s a little hard to breathe.
Every breath feels like a dagger slicing the inside of my throat, anyway.
Well in truly, how did I even get myself in this horrible situation?
Tied to a chair, barely able to squirm, never mind move, and forced to stare into a paused memory. A trapped memory, which is an.. ironic thought.
And, based on the shocked gasps after seeing the orange stick, uh, whatever his name is, shoot superman-style lazers out of his eyes, it’s safe to presume that they understand the orange hollow head has powers. Which, well, isn’t that just great? The idea of surprise can be thrown out of the window.
And, not only that, the memory I’m staring into is paused on Alan's cursor. And since Victim has left, and left me like this, it probably means they have learnt something.
Yay.
…At least Victim is gone. His face is the last thing I want to see right now.
I can’t help the cold shiver running down my spine at the thought of the man. It feels a little shameful to be intimidated by a stick that, normally, I’d easily be able to beat if it weren’t for.. the weird constrictions this box has on my powers. However, it’s a little hard to blame myself after having to listen to those gross sadistic words.
I pull myself out of my thoughts with a small shake of my head. I shouldn’t think about him right now. I need to prioritize getting out of this freak show, and getting to that orange stick.
I attempt to move, ignoring the aching in my bones, straining my arms against the lasso. Unfortunately for me, it hardly relents. I try for a few more minutes, kicking out my legs, squirming left to right in the chair, attempting to use brute force to break through the lasso.
It’s not really a surprise to say that it doesn’t work.
A sigh slips past my lips. My mouth feels dry, and I smack my tongue against the roof of my mouth, which only feels like sandpaper grating on more sandpaper.
I could really go for a drink right about now.
A sharp sound of a whoosh takes my attention. I perk up, straining my ears to listen, and then I hear footsteps, which is growing closer. I can’t help the flinch when I feel hands grip the headset on my face.
It’s pulled away, and a bright light of a flash makes my eyes water and I squeeze them shut. I don’t waste time to blink them back open, only taking a few seconds to get used to the blinding whiteness of the box.
And, there, by both my sides, are two workers. Victim’s workers. Neither of them speak a word as their hands loosen the lasso around my body. I barely have any time to react before they’re grabbing at my arms and hauling me from the chair.
My legs buckle beneath me.
It’s like the last bits of my energy had vanished- leaving me to crumble in their grasps as exhaustion takes hold. I’m only able to stay hunching on my feet when the two grey-coloured workers support my weight to keep me up.
They’re not gentle when they drag me out of the box. I avoid looking at either of them, instead preferring to keep my gaze to the ground as I focus on not completely crashing and face-palming the floor like a fool.
I only look up when they force me to stop. In front of me is a large, boxed-up cell. It’s a little nerve wrecking to look at. It looks like a place for the worst of the worse. Which- okay, I’m not exactly the most innocent. Although, I’ve never done anything to Victim and his mercenaries. .
I try to straighten my posture, but the aching screams at me to stop, and I do.
I watch, a harsh thumping in my chest, as one of the workers scan some sort of scanner. It makes the door to the cell slide open, and I’m shoved inside.
I bite back a cry as I land on my arm, instead a shaky breath is pulled from my throat.
Okay, wow, ow. Couldn’t be any more gentle, could they?
I hear the door slide shut, embracing the cell in darkness. I curl in on myself, not bothering to attempt to stand up. Perhaps a good, self-pitying crying session will help now that I’m alone-
Or, maybe not, because I feel sudden fingers wrap around my arm. I jolt up, heart leaping from my chest, which I regret immediately as my aching bones and burning muscles burst in a scorching pain.
My eyes meet with two, bright orange ones when I turn my gaze to the side. It’s- it’s the orange hollow head.
“Hey, hey,” He starts, panic and worry written all over his face. “Are- Are you okay? You look, well, you are hurt, uh, let me help you!”
Gentle hands grip onto my body, and carefully help guide me into a sitting position. I’d appreciate the action, if it weren’t for the embarrassment. I really don’t want to be seen like this.
I hold back a sigh as I lean on a cold, metal wall. I can feel the freezing touch through my clothes, biting my skin.
“I, uhm, I didn’t really see what happened. I got taken away somewhere.” The orange-haired admits, casting a shy glance away, before turning back towards me. “Was it that guy who hurt you? The other hollow head? Why would he even hurt you?”
The smaller stick being taken away peaks my interest.
“Taken away?” I repeat, and the other nods his head, his lips curled into a frown.
“Yeah, but, that- that doesn’t matter right now-”
“Yes, it does.” I interrupt, and the orange stick blinks at me with wide eyes. “Listen, I.. I don’t want to talk about what happened to me. It’s not all that interesting, anyway. What happened with you?”
He doesn’t respond right away, shoulders tensed as he shifts in his position. Eventually, he releases a small exhale.
“Well, they uh, they took me to this room. It had, like, this weird box? I-I couldn’t leave it when I was put in. They wanted me to use my pencil, the one that I used earlier.”
I bite the inside of my cheek as he speaks. That pencil, yeah, he was able to- to bring things to life, essentially. It was fascinating. I would’ve admired it more if it weren’t for that weird tazer-like thing stunning me.
Victim and the mercenaries being interested in it isn’t a good sign, though.
The smaller continues on. “I think they wanted to experiment with it? Or analyze it? Actually, I don’t think they could even use it. Then they took me back. That’s all that really happened.”
I let out a small hum in response, moving my gaze to the ground. Okay, okay. If they can’t use it, then that’s good. I don’t even want to imagine the kinds of things they could create with it if they could.
I turn back to the other, who has now moved from a kneeling position to sitting cross-legged. He doesn’t look at me, instead staring down at his hands on his lap. There’s a look of worry etched in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed down as he frowns.
After a long beat of silence, I open my mouth to speak.
“What’s your name?”
He looks up, pausing, only for a few moments.
“Second.” He replies. “The Second Coming is my full name, but, I uhm, I prefer just Second. And you?”
“Alright, ‘just Second’,” my lips curl into a smile as Second blinks at me. It seems he can’t help but smile too, a small line of blush dusting his cheeks. “I’m Chosen.”
Second nods, before the soft smile tugging on his lips fall. He turns his gaze away as I study his face.
And, after a few moments, he moves, scooting over to my side and leaning on the wall beside me.
He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. “I’m.. I’m worried. About my friends.” He says, and I raise an eyebrow.
“…Why?”
“They would’ve followed. I- I have no idea where they could possibly be. Or if they’re even safe! They- they- this is only the second time we’ve been to the Outernet. The first time, well, we never really got to explore.”
“Really? So, does that mean the first time..” My sentence trails off. Second lifts his gaze to meet mine, and he nods.
“Yeah, yeah. It was when that fight happened between you and the… other hollow head. I just- I just hope they’re okay. And not doing anything stupid.”
I bite my lip, turning away as a pang of guilt hits my stomach. The only reason they’d be in danger is because I decided to drag their friend out of the safety of their home.
It wasn’t even worth it. All Second was able to do was delay the inevitable. It was a selfish act, though, I can’t say I completely blame myself.. I was getting desperate.
Also, I thought he would use his powers to blast them away in seconds! But, based on the fact he didn’t use them once, and, really, seemed so confused when I was trying to get him to use them, I don’t think he even remembers he has any.
Which, yay. That’s just so amazing. Isn’t my luck just great?
If I had known, I never would dragged him into my fight.
I let out a long, frustrated exhale.
I need to get us out of this place. Fighting is definitely a no-go. Not with those powerful machinery the mercenaries have, and it might be a.. struggle to protect Second whilst trying to fight them off at the same time.
So, stealth, maybe? That’s probably our best bet. All we need to do is wait for the right time.
Though, first, I need to get a better understanding of our surroundings. I turn to Second, who seems to be staring off into nothing.
“Hey,” I drag his attention back to me. “When you got taken out, what did you- like, what was around you?”
He pauses, opening his mouth, before shutting it, and opening it again.
“Uh.. honestly, I wasn’t really looking. There.. was a lot of grey?”
I give him a dead-panned look. He shrugs with an awkward smile, and I sigh.
“Right, okay, that’s.. not really a lot of help.” I mumble to myself. “Okay. Okay, next time you’re taken out to be tested on that weird pencil thingy, make sure you watch your surroundings. Alright?”
Second nods, and I turn away.
We can’t take too much time. The sooner Second is taken out, the better. I really don’t want to go through another beat down, and I’m a little worried Victim might set his.. violent tendencies on Second as well. We’ll have to take every opportunity we can before our luck gets worse. If we even have any, at this point.
“Uhm..” A small, almost nervous, voice takes my attention. Second is avoiding eye contact, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “Do.. Do I really have powers?”
I blink, staring, as his voice cracks. Hang on- I thought he couldn’t remember he has powers?
My questions are quickly answered when Second follows up his sentence. “Well, because, I mean, I- I saw me on that big screen. In the, uh, the box you were in. And- and- I had lazers coming out of my eyes. That- there’s no way that was real, right? I mean, that’s, just, that’s insane. Or, maybe, did I see it wrong?”
I’m not sure how to respond at first.
Well, he’s seen it with his own eyes now, which, that great, actually! If he can finally accept that he has powers, maybe I could start to train him? Looking back on it now, he did seem a little.. out of it? When he used them back during the showdown. So I wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t control his powers when using them.
“It was real.” Are the words I eventually settle on. “You have powers. You.. really don’t remember?”
Second opens his mouth, before closing it. It looks like there are thousands of thoughts swirling in his mind.
“I- N-No, no, I don’t. When that red guy, uh, his, what’s his name?”
“Dark.”
“When, uh, when Dark stabbed me with that blade, everything kind of.. blacked out? I guess. I don’t know. But, when everything came back, I was with my friends. Honestly, I had thought I had, like, died.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t. You went a little mad. You unleashed this.. huge amount of power. I’ve never seen anything like it, honestly. It was.. amazing, to say the least. A little scary, but amazing. After you defeated Dark, you revived your friends-”
“Uh, what?”
Second stares at me, eyebrows raised, and I blink at him.
“Did you say I defeated Dark? Me? That wasn’t you?”
“..No.. it was you.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“…Yeah...”
His jaw falls agape. “Oh. Okay. Wow. Uh, that’s- that’s cool?”
“..Cool?”
“Or.. not.. I don’t know! This is- this is insane? I mean..”
He trails off, biting his lip. His breathing has quickened, chest rising and falling a little too fast. I let out a long, deep sigh.
“Okay, alright, lets calm down. Control your breathing.”
Second tenses, and I watch as he swallows, before letting out a shaky exhale. It doesn’t take long for his breathing to return back to normal.
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t- I-.. sorry.”
I go to respond, before pausing, and closing my mouth, unsure of what to say. I turn away, placing my head in my hand with a tired sigh. This has been a long day. Too long. I’ve experienced long days, and, truthfully? This is probably close to one of the worst.
I don’t think anything will beat the day I lost Dark, though.
As I stare at the floor, I can feel a pair of eyes lingering on me for a little too long. I glance over at Second, who’s staring a little too intently.
“Hey, uh, maybe you should get some rest. You look pretty tired.” He eventually says.
Really, sherlock?
Is what I planned to say, before biting my tongue. Right, yeah, it’s my fault he’s here. I have no right to be sarcastic with him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I mumble a reply. “If anything were to happen..”
“..You would wake up? I mean, right now, what else is there to do but sleep? Listen, not to be rude, but, I don’t want to have to drag you out of here when we escape because you’re too exhausted to keep yourself standing.”
“…Fair point.”
A deep sigh slips past my lips. I don’t- I hate feeling this vulnerable. Especially around a stranger. I mean, I guess I trust Second, to an extent. But I hardly know him at the end of the day.
Well, there’s not much he’d be able to do anyway, worst comes to worst.
I shift forward, slowly dropping myself to the ground, turning my back to the orange stick and using my arm as a sort of pillow.
“Alright.” I say, closing my eyes, which are already feeling droopy and heavy. “Make sure you get some rest too.”
Second doesn’t respond. I don’t think much on it, though, as, surprisingly, it doesn’t take all that long for my body to start to relax.
I must be more tired than I thought.
———
Second's POV:
I watch as Chosen's heavy breathing begins to slow. His tense shoulders eventually fall, and my lips curl into a small smile at the sight.
It’s probably safe to assume he’s fallen asleep now.
I turn away, the smile dropping from my lips.
I- I felt so, so mad. Is it wrong to say I still feel a little mad? I mean, I haven’t seen the man in two years. And then, out of the blue, he invades my home, takes me away from my friends, and drags me into a fight I have nothing to do with. And now I’m locked away in a cell against my will, without a clue where my friends are, and if they’re safe. Where was my say in any of this?
Truthfully, I had planned to yell at the guy next time I saw him. Give him a piece of my mind. That was until he was thrown in the cell, looking beaten and bruises littered all over his body. He struggled to even just sit up on his own, he’s so tired.
It’s a little hard to stay mad when you see a stick in such a state.
I rest the back of my head against the cold wall behind me, fluttering my eyes closed.
Honestly, all I want to know is if my friends are okay. What if they get into some kind of trouble? And get hurt? Or worse? And I’m not there to help?
It’s- it’s just not fair. It really isn’t. I want to go home. I want to sleep, in my bed, and shut out all of my problems.
I guess that’s a little delusional to think of right now, though. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be here for a while.
Opening my eyes again, I take a look around the cell I’ve been locked up in, in hopes for a distraction. It’s pretty dark, with no light sources in here. My eyes strain as I stare at the metal walls.
And then, something catches my attention. Tucked away in a corner, and, taking a closer look, I feel my heart drop once I understand what it is.
Scrapes on the metal, marking the amount of days someone has been here. A previous prisoner. Twelve days, to be exact. There are many other scrapes scattered across the cell, and it almost looks like there’s been some sort of fight.
How many sticks have been locked in here? Were they beaten like Chosen?
..Surely Chosen was an exception, right? Because of his strength and powers? Yeah. Probably.
…Oh, yeah. I have powers. That- well, that, that’s not good. I don’t- I really hope I don’t get beaten. I really, really hope not.
We need to get out of here as soon as possible. I have no idea how we’re going to, but we’ll find a way. Won’t we?
I always find a way. No matter how big or how small, there’s always a solution. This is no different from what I’ve faced before.
I’ve convinced Alan not to delete me and my friends, which grew into an amazing relationship. We saved Red's life from being controlled and haunted by Herobrine, which eventually started the great life we have with Minecraft. We survived Dark. I supposedly defeated him. And, we survived almost dying by MT trying to destroy and kill everything in his wake.
This isn’t different. Sure, a little more unique, but I’ve faced worse. I think.
This is- this is fine.
Even- even if me and Chosen can’t get out of here on our own, I’m sure the others will be able to save us. They’re reliable. They wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. Nothing too bad, anyway.
They.. I miss them.
I mean, sure, it’s only been a few hours. But it has been a pretty eventful and tiring few hours.
It’d feel really nice to be able to climb into bed and just- have a nice cuddle session, or something.
I want to go home, so much.
I swallow, hard, lifting my hand to my eyes. There’s a little wetness when I wipe. I bite my tongue, holding back the tears from falling.
If they saw me, they’d be at my side in an instant. Giving me warm hugs, whispering comforting words, cuddling together under blankets and tea and making everyone laugh.
I wipe my eyes with my sleeve this time, finding it harder to hold back the tears. I sniffle, before shaking my head and pushing the thoughts of my friends out of my head.
I rest the back of my head back against the wall, closing my eyes with a shaky exhale.
Chosen is right, I should get some rest. Who knows what could happen later on.
I need to reserve my energy.