Disclaimer: I don't own Homestuck. Hussie does. I just write about it.
Never the less, this story will contain original characters and concepts I have made, but that won't be for a while, like a few chapters. Some of the characters will have different names than what they originally have, but that is for story purposes. As a rundown of that, all the trolls will have name changes. The humans keep their original names. The reason why will also become apparent later. (I already kinda break my first rule, since this chapter is labeled Karkat)
Also, the rating for this is mainly for language purposes only. I will drop f-bombs and other creative swears. If you don't think the language is that bad for this rating, let me know and I'll change it.
For now, enjoy.
The game is never played in your favor, but for the future.
Not that you haven't done that already on this shitbucket (yes, shitbucket, because of all the goddamn relationship crap going on) of a place. Though, with all the luck in the world, the meteor should be reaching the new session in a day or so. This should be good news, but you can't help but feel worried. Like a premonition, almost. You know something is going to happen, and it wasn't going to be good.
You feel the heat of the lava as you fall downwards into the fire pit that will become your grave. As the heat touches your skin, you cry out in agony, the burn being the same as to the handcuff that you dream of wearing over and over again with the words of the Signless saying it is your destiny. The last thing you see before the lava completely overtakes your body is Gamzee, the one person you trusted with everything.
You walk out of building you and your group have called home for the past 3 human years to get some air (though the air out in space isn't really all that refreshing, but it's better than taking in the scents of rotting corpses and blood mixed with smelly, unwashed bodies). You look out at the space around you. The great void full of nothingness and gogdamn dream bubbles. That is going to be a relief to escape from, the constant reminders of your past selves have gotten you to this breaking point. The mistakes you have made throughout your session effecting not only your race, but the human's as well. You aren't worthless; you're worse than that. You are a disgrace. And the worst part about that you can't tell anyone about it. You've tried, so hard to get that across but no matter what you try to say, no one really listens. After a time, you just stopped.
"WhAt'S wRoNg, BeSt FrIeNd?" Gamzee messages you. You stare at the message for a while, contemplating on whether or not telling him your real feelings that are running around your thinkpan.
"I'M FINE AS ALWAYS. WHY?" you reply bitterly.
"YoU sUrE dOn'T sOuNd FiNe."
"THAT'S BECAUSE WE'RE MESSAGING EACH OTHER, MORON. OF COURSE I DON'T SOUND FINE. I SOUND LIKE NOTHING WHEN WRITING TO ANYONE."
"ThAt'S nOt WhAt i MeAn, KaRkAt. Is ThErE sOmEtHiNg On YoUr MiNd?"
You wish you still had your moirail who you could talk to about these things. You wish you could have saved everyone and won the game the first time. You wish you could have been a better leader. You wish you had never began this game to begin with. You wish you could have just had a normal life. The last being the one you stop at. If only you could have a normal life. One without this mutation that makes your blood look like illuminating cherries. Why couldn't have been born normal like everyone else?
You sit in your room, your computer lying closed next to you and your head in your legs. You don't want to talk to your friends right now, even though you know they are messaging you like crazy right now. You feel very much alone and ready to tear right through your skin.
Crabdad comes into the room and notices you in your weak state. No words are said from him, but he picks you up and puts you into your recooperacoon. Normally, you would wiggle around angrily, shouting that your weren't tired and that you were fine. But today, you could not find the energy to do so. Your normal anger is just depression.
"Is it true, Dad?" you ask before Crabdad leaves the room, "That I can't tell anyone about my blood color? Would they really try to kill me?"
A bright light came out of no where, bring you out of your daydream. You shield your eyes as you try to make out what the source of it was. It isn't the sun (green or otherwise). You believe you can make out a person, but you can't be sure.
As you cover your eyes, your mind flashes back to that day, when you and your troll friends (if you can call any of them friends anymore) almost won the game. Hey You remember the demon that cut you all off from your prize and made your lives a living hell. You find yourself once again on Prospit in the ridiculous golden nightgown, looking up at Jack, the one you once called an ally. His eyes were cold and black. Wake Up You try to run, but all you can do is sit there, gazing up at the demon. That feeling of fear and loss and betrayal sink into your heart as Jack raises his sword up to the sky, meaning to aim the blow at you. Come on, Wake Up You watch the sword come down in slow motion and you lift up your arm to try to block the blow, even though you know it's pointless. You are going to die.
Kyle, Wake Up!
Please comment, it helps me with my writing. Next chapter will be up on Friday.