You sit at your desktop computer, home alone, like always. You contemplated on where your bro could head out to all the time, and one day you decided to ask one of his weird friends. Her bright pink font gave you a major headache though, as well as her odd typing style. She appeared to be drunk. Or you assume. The girl, who went by the name of Roxy, said that he goes to see his quote, unquote 'bf.' Which means boyfriend, 'btw.' You stare at your blank desktop, wondering if you should turn it on or not. After about five minutes, you decide to turn it on, wondering why your cool ass didn't five minutes ago. Spacing out can be a real bitch, sometimes. The buzz of the computer tower coming to life annoys you to no end, and you can feel the heat from the fan blasting on your leg. Why can't I have a laptop, like normal kids do? Bro doesn't want to give you one, because apparently, he spends all his money, as well as time, on his boyfriend, who goes by the name of Jake, if anyone was wondering. Wait, since when does Bro like it up the butt? When the thought pops into your head a mental picture slides into there, too. You making gagging motions, and smile to yourself.

Right when you log on, Pesterchum pops onto the screen. John, your best buddy is messaging you, although, he changed his handle again, and his font color is a little on the light side. Must be the trolls again. That dumkass knows he can't hid from them for ever. John seems extra happy today though, and it's kinda, sorta freaking you out.

-lollipopFantasy began pestering turntechGodhead-

LF: hi! Hehehe

TG: sup

LF: hehe, hi dave!

LF: dave, don't you recognize me?

TG: eh

LF: hehehe

LF: silly dave!

LF: it's your best friend

LF: dave

LF: hehe, are you playing hard-to-get?

TG: of course bro

TG: of course im playing hard to get

LF: heheheehehe

LF: but don't you know dave?

LF: i'm not interested!

LF: hehe

TG: oh

TG: well damn then

LF: oh! i have an idea

LF: i'll kiss you... but only if you play a game with me! hehehe

TG: what kind of game

LF: a really fun game! hehe. do you want to play or not?

LF: make up your mind, silly dave :B

TG: sure

TG: i mean it matters what kind of game it is

LF: it's... show and tell! and then we get to play with all of the stuff we show each other hehehe

LF: that sounded dirty hehe

TG: wow yeah it did

LF: so do you want to play or not silly?

TG: sure thing

LF: hehehe okay ill be over your house soon! ;B

-lollipopFantasy quit pesting turntechGodhead-

You decide to get dressed, before Egbert gets to your house. You like to look spiffy for him. Since you only have the biggest crush ever on him. While you wait for him you tidy up the house a bit. Striders never like a messy house, no siree. You plop down onto the couch, but right when your plush rump touches the cushion there's a knock at the door. A girly one at that. You saunter over to the door, but when you get over there Egbert is already walking past you somehow… The door was shut, and locked so you have no idea how he got in. The lock must be broken. Right?

John stood in front of you, something about him looking mad different. It may be the lollipop sticking to his blonde hair. Wait, blonde? He was wearing all blue, too, and pink shoes?

"What's with the new get-up?" You ask him.

"New? Hehehe. Nothing new about this." He smiles at you, but the smile seems a little too big. It's starting to creep you out.

"The blonde hair tho-"

"Never mind that. Let's just get to your game." He cut you off, "Hehehe~"

"Okay, okay. So, who'll go first?" You slid back down onto your couch.

He strode over and sat on your lap, bringing his face close to yours. His breath smelled of bubblegum, and candy. He then brought his hand up to your chin and brought his face to yours lightly, and kissed you with the same gentleness. The lollipop stuck in his hair stuck to your face; when he pulled away from you there was a pink-ish sticky mark staining your cheek. He stood in front of you, smiling down mischievously. Turned around and pulled something out of his pocket, then faced you again, and hid the object behind his back.

"Hey Dave, before I show you, do you wanna try and guess what it is?~"

"Uh… I don't know, man. Just show me."

"Hehe, if you saaaaaay soooooo~~"

He brought his hand around to reveal a large serrated knife. You were pretty sure that it wasn't in his pocket before, because you would've noticed it. You try to scramble away from him, but it proves useless since you're on a couch. You just sink deeper into it.

"Hey, John, buddy, I really think that you should put that away… You wouldn't want to hurt me or anyone… Right?"

He pouts, "But Dave, that wouldn't be any fun!"

"I- I think it would be fun though, maybe we can play a different game?"

He sat next to you, a little too close which made you scampered onto the ground, which might've not been the best idea ever.

He pounced on top of you, pinning you to the ground, and straddling your chest. You noticed that he still had a tight grip on the knife. His knuckles were turning white. "Well, I think this game is muuuuuuuuch more fun~"

You try to get out of the tricksters death grip, but it proves useless. You feel your heart thumping around in your chest, as you struggle to get away from him. You can feel sweat grow on your brow. "John, bro, this might be fun for you, but uh, for me it's pretty fucking horrible. Wanna know what would be fun? If you put that thing away, and get off." He tries to convince his friend, but it also proves useless. John grins devilishly down at you, and then takes the knife, licking it from bottom to top. He nicked his tongue, but didn't seem to notice. A stray drop of blood leaked into your shirt.

"I don't wanna get off Dave!" His voice sounded whiny, like a five year-old who didn't want to stop eating candy on Halloween. "Don't you like me? Don't you want me to like you? Hee hee, maybe I'll like you if you play with me~" You blinked at the blood dripping down from his friends mouth, wondering how he didn't notice that. Or maybe he just didn't care. The blood was already making a big stain on your white shirt.

"I really don't care about that right now. Really, we can just be friends. Please, just get off of me, and put that knife away!" You try to push him off by his shoulders, but he seemed to be stronger than you remembered. Well he was a trickster anyways. John leaned forward, against your hands until he is just inches from your face. The bubblegum smell is now mixed with blood, and it is sickening. John movies the knife until it is resting against your cheek. "I'm not getting off! I wanna stay just like this with you forever. Hehehe!~"

You quickly glance over at the knife, and again try to convince Egbert to play another game. "Perhaps Twister," You tried not to look into his bright, gleaming, blue eyes. "Maybe some Scrabble? Apples to Apples? Anything other than this, please?" You try pleading to your friend, but it only seems to make this situation worse.

"Hmmmmm…" John's face twists into a frown for a moment, but then the simpering smile is right back where it was. "Ha, fat chance! This is my favorite game. Hee hee hee hee hee~" At the last giggle that erupted from his mouth, he started to sink the knife into your cheek, the pulled it out. It left a thin, shallow slice, with bright red blood dripping out, and staining the floor underneath you. You wince at the movement, and you're so scared that you can feel your whole body tremble beneath the trickster.

"I don't really like this game, bro." At this John leaned down further, so he was speaking right into your ear. "This is my most favorite game, Dave. Do you want to know whyyyy?"

You can hear your voice crack, and your eyes start to water up. "Why?"

"Hee hee hee," He giggles like a deranged man into your ear, then shifts his body on top of you, and his breath is drying up the blood from your cut on your cheek. "I like this game, because I always win!" At those words John opened his jaw, and sunk his teeth into your cut. His teeth ripped into your already damaged skin harshly.

Your can feel hot tears streaming down your face. Your heat was beating fast, and your whole body was trembling. When his teeth sunk deeper into your skin you let out a harsh whimper into your friend's ear. You tried to slap him off, but the pain was draining your energy slowly. All you could do was cry and endure the pain. He unlatched his jaw from you, relishing in your cries of pain. Your blood dripped down from his mouth and down his chin, staining his collar line. It almost looked as though he was the one who got hurt. He suddenly burst into loud laughter, like a witch. "Silly Dave," he giggled, the blood from his mouth dripping on you when he spoke. "That wasn't even that bad! Hee hee, what are you going to do when I really hurt you?"

You gasped, looking up at John, your own blood dripping down his neck. "I don't really want to find out." You choked, tears soaking your already blood stained shirt.

"Oh, but Daaaaaave," He reached down and pulled your shirt up over your head, and took off your shades as well. He licked his lips at your exposed eyes, "You will find out, hee hee hee!"

You closed your eyes, as if it would make all of your worries go away. You plead to John again, asking for him to let you go. But by now you decided that you should just give up. John frowned at this. He noticed that you weren't enjoying his game very much, but you assume that just lead him to make you enjoy it. He ignored your begging and instead placed the tip of the knife onto your chest, your dried blood on it. He traced it upwards, not hard enough to break the skin, until it was up to your collar bone. He leaned in carefully, before getting to work. He slowly and carefully began carving a 'T' for 'Trickster' into your pale skin; as he cut your blood spurted out of your wound and splattering all over his face. He giggled, and took off his glasses. "Now we're both not wearing our 'shades!'"

As the blade sliced into you, you gasped and choked for air. You could smell the thick metallic scent of your blood hanging in the atmosphere. Your sobs shook your whole body, and your screams echoed throughout the whole house. Since nobody was home your cries of pain weren't heard by anyone. You had no chance whatsoever of being saved. Your friend kept cutting into your chest, and the air stung to no end. You wished that you never agreed to play a game. After all, it was only for one stupid kiss, but it's far too late for that now. You also wished that the trickster would hurry up and kill you already, or stop, so this horrendous pain would pass. You knew that he would never hurry up though, or stop. He was having far too much fun with this. The thought made you want to puke. Or possibly it was the pain. Your head started to spin.

John giggled at your noises of agony. The boy wished that he had brought some ropes, so he could tie up his hands, and only his legs would be free. However, as soon as that thought came to mind he remembered something he did have with him. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a long, thin stiletto knife. "Lookie here, Dave! Now we can have a lot more fun. Hee hee!" John looked at the knife, thinking about all the uses he has with it. Suddenly the best one came to his mind. He thought that your hands have been getting kind of pesky, and bothersome, with how they kept tying to slap him off. He dropped his serrated knife, now clutching onto the other. He quickly grabbed your left hand and stabbed through it quickly. So quickly you didn't even notice.

You started to feel woozy from the pain, and you felt a tingling in your left hand. You sight soon became hazy and you couldn't tell what John was holding out in front of him. You assumed it was just the knife he was torturing you with. As you became woozier, your hearing started to fade. You could no longer hear John's deranged laughter, and it was comforting. You passed out, and couldn't feel the pain erupting from your chest any longer.

John soon noticed that you weren't moving anymore, and that your eyes were closed. Well that's no fun! He thought. He wondered if he had anything that could help him now. After searching for a few minutes he pulled out a little tin. Inside were smelling salts. Well damn, wasn't he prepared? Some of the chess people had given him these a while ago, when Jade was chasing after Jaspersprite and ended up accidentally knocking herself out. He wafted the smelling salts under your nose, his girlish giggle making yet another appearance. "Wakey, wakey, Davey! Hee hee hee~"

You scrunched up your nose, and opened your eyes slowly. He could feel a sharp pain coming from his left hand. He tried to look at it, but he couldn't even bring himself to lift up his hand. He could feel the cut on his chest stinging again, and began to sob violently. John flashed his signature inhumane smile at you, and got to business. He grabbed the serrated knife that was lying next to you and ran it softly along your face, and down your chin. He ran the knife down your chest, pushing down harder by every inch that it traveled. John caught a drip off blood with his fingertip, and licked it off, smiling at you. He then got another idea, you could tell by his smile that stretched from ear to ear. He lowered his face down to the cut and began to lap up the blood, like a cat. His saliva stung the wound. He licked the cut up, and then brought his face close to yours. Your blood stained his lips, and tongue, and when he smiled at you, you could see his blood stained teeth. He brought his lips down on top of yours and kissed you, more violently then before. You tried to push him away, but it was useless. He brought his hand up and squished your cheeks causing your mouth to open against his. You could feel his tongue wrap around yours. The blood tasted awful, and the smell was just as bad.

He pulled away from you, your saliva making a trail from his mouth to yours. He smiled and reached two fingers into your mouth, and grabbed your tongue. "Hee hee hee! It's good to know that I'm the last one that's ever gunna see your tongue again!" With his other hand he grabbed the serrated knife and brought it up to your tongue. He brought it up over his head, and quickly slashed it down. You tried to scream, but it proved difficult, now that you didn't have those muscles in your mouth anymore. The blood oozed down your throat, and you gagged on it. You tried to spit it up, but only causing you to choke on it more. You could feel your whole body convulsing, rejecting all the fluids. You began to spit it up, showering John in your blood, and vomit. He just sat there giggling like a mad man. When you were finally done, he grabbed onto your hips and turned you over. You couldn't hold yourself up, due to lack of energy from all the wounds, and blood loss. John started ripping off your pants, violently. He got his pants off, too, and leaned forward quickly. Your cries of agony returned, as he thrust his member into you. He paused for a minute, you thought it was over, but really he was just grabbing both of his knives. He reached forward and placed the knives on your shoulders, and leaned into your ear. "You ready for the fun part, Davey?"

John slowly pierced both knives into each of your shoulders. He slowly ran the knives down your back, blood splashing over his face. He finally got to where your tailbone would be located and pushed the knives into your back with great force. When he hit your bone, he pulled out the knives. He began giggling again, and licked the blood off of the knife.

The feeling of the cold metal in your back forced you to give out one last hoarse scream. You assume your life begins to flash before your eyes, because you start to picture memories that happened a long time ago. But your life only flashes before your eyes when it's a quick death right? Whatever... You thought. You pictured Bro, and when he first put those anime shades on your chubby face. You remember back to the day where John, you're best friend first messaged you on Pesterchum. His dorky little face he made, the colon and uppercase 'b' said that he was a freaking nerd, but you were going to love him anyways. Then you think of now. What this nerd is doing to you now. Your blood staining his shirt, and face, his crazed smile and the knives slicing into your back. As you're remembering the past you slowly drift off, while he continues to slice into you, not knowing that you've stopped paying attention a long time ago. Before you finally fall into that eternal sleep of yours a few words escape your lips, with difficulty though, from loss of a tongue, "I guess you do always win..."