PROLOGUE

"Honey, wait!" a woman yelled as she dashed out the rickety door behind her son, who paused in his excited rush to hear her out. "It's going to storm later, so I don't want you staying out too long, okay?" He huffed impatiently in reply, but smiled anyway.

"'Course, mom, I'm just gonna show Jordan my new game," he called back and waved the cartridge in the air to show her, as if she didn't already know. She felt a warmness in her heart to recall how thrilled he had been to receive his first game and console to play it on, secondhand though they be. It was largely due to this that she stifled any further worrying to let him have his moment.

"Okay then, honey, just stay safe," she murmured as she stepped off the porch and gave him a tight hug, "I love you."

He wriggled in embarrassment for a second, but quickly gave in, "I know, momma, I love you, too." Pulling out of her grip once more he jogged back towards the gate, wearing a silly grin and calling a last goodbye over his shoulder.

"Have fun!" she called to the small figure and waved until he was through the gate on the neighbors' fence, a vague sick feeling settling down in her gut as soon as he disappeared from sight.

A small hand rapped its knuckles on the white-painted wood of the door, and the young boy bounced on his heels as he waited for it to open. The grey plastic cartridge was getting warm and sweaty in his grip, but he held it tightly anyway. Jordan always had the new games to play on his Nintendo, but Jordan had a nicer house and a pool and bigger television set as well, so it made sense that he would. This one was his, that was all that mattered, and at least he didn't have to share with a stupid older brother like Jordan did. He turned the cartridge over in his hands to look at it again, not caring that the sticker had been taken off and replaced with a scrawl of back marker, in fact, he kind of liked it, it matched the look of his name that he had written on the other side. Deciding that Jordan was taking far too long to open the door, he knocked again, harder this time, and heard shuffling on the other side. A minute later the door moved to reveal the last thing he wanted to see. He breathed a little sigh.

"Good afternoon, James, is Jordan home?" he politely asked the older boy, not meeting his eyes. A raindrop landed on his arm and he rubbed it off.

"Nah," was the disappointing reply, so he took a small step back, ready to beat a retreat.

"Oh, okay then, I'll come back later then-"

"What's that you got?" No, no, no, please just leave me alone today, James. "That's a game. Why've you got one of those, buddy? You know your scummy family can't afford crap. Did ya steal it?" James poked the smaller boy in the shoulder, not getting a response. The boy's stomach did triple backflips as he clutched his copy of Majora's Mask to his scrawny chest. How did the best ever take a nosedive so suddenly? James was, however, completely dissatisfied by the lack of reaction from the brat, his face screwing up in irritation. "Well, thieves don't deserve any damn thing, Benny. Guess it's my game now, ain't it?" There wasn't time to react before the plastic device was wrenched from his grip and held far out of his reach. Benjamin's eyes widened in alarm.

"Hey, that's mine! It's mine, I didn't steal it! Give it back, James!" he cried out, futilely jumping and clawing for the game with unwanted tears stinging at his eyes. The bully laughed at his attempts, and shoved him back onto the concrete path and into the increasing rain, before waving the game mockingly and slamming the door, leaving the boy sniffling outside. He was so, so sick of that guy picking on him when no one was around; he was the one who didn't deserve anything! It wasn't fair! That game was his, it had Ben's name on it, and he was the only one who should get to play with it! Benjamin bit his teeth together until they hurt, and ignored the distant grumble of the sky. Somewhere he knew that his mother would want him back now that the storm was starting, but this was his important present! He pushed himself to his feet. It was an easy decision for the kid to make, obviously the right thing, the heroic thing to do was to go and teach that no good bully not to mess with him, and save his game.

He walked back up to the door and tried the knob, a small but self satisfied smile appearing when he found that James had been too stupid to lock it behind him. He steeled himself, took a deep, deep breath, and quietly opened the door. The hinges were shiny and brand new and didn't make a sound as the boy slipped inside, eyes scanning for his target. His heart beat so fast that he worried this was what heart attacks were like, but he didn't have time for paranoia, because he quickly found James kneeling in front of the TV that was bigger than theirs, setting up to plug the game in; his game. Anger swelled inside him, giving him courage through adrenaline. He crept up on the distracted boy, picking up the nearest free object as he went, which just happened to be the television remote on the arm of the sofa, until he was directly behind his tormentor. He took one more breath, and lifted the remote far above his head, bringing it back down onto the older boy's head with a battle cry, a loud crack, a pained shout, and a crash of thunder that almost shook the room.

Benjamin grinned in triumph, but only for a split second, for James whirled on him with a murderous expression like none he had ever seen, the very game cartridge still in his hand. His heart stopped, but his mind screamed, run! And so he did, dodging armchairs and coffee tables, a face like death and a chill from head to toe. James was much larger than small and scrawny Benjamin, and would land a swipe every time he was within arm's range, keeping up the chase even when the kid bolted out the back door into the backyard. From here he could scream and his mom would hear him from next door, and they both knew it. Even as Ben opened his mouth to do just that, tasting the pouring rain on his tongue, James pounced, tackling the fragile body to the wet concrete. "I'm gonna kill you, brat, I'm gonna kill you!" he growled, pounding his fists into the smaller boy's back. Benjamin couldn't breathe, couldn't even squeak from the brutal force of fists and the large body sitting on him, but he continued to struggle for his life, clawing wildly behind him, hoping to blindly meet with flesh, anything to get him off. Eventually his fingers met with something he could gain purchase on, and he flung it in a random direction. This action, of course, would seal his fate, as he watched with vague interest the grey plastic that had seemed so important when he had air in his lungs fly through the air and land in the pool that he had gone swimming in over the summer. With the raindrops pounding at the water the cartridge didn't even leave noticeable ripples, but the punches stopped. James climbed off the boy, and leant close to his face as he struggled to regain his breath. The sky flashed and thunder crashed.

"You shouldn't have done that," the bully whispered in a menacing voice, eyes full of resentment. Ben just stared at him blankly, and this frustrated the older boy all the more. "You want your friggin' game so bad, Benny?" he asked tauntingly, hauling him into his arms. "Well, go get it, you little bastard!"

There had been hardly split seconds before he had hit the surface of the water, but the rain already had him drenched, and James had forced the air out of his lungs, so Benjamin vaguely wondered if this was what swimming in the sky felt like. And then he was in the water, and the terror returned. He thrashed and tried to get upright, tried to push off the bottom of the pool, but for naught. Now he knew whyhis mom had never let him in the deep end, he was too small, not a strong enough swimmer. He gasped in water, and watched the surface that was too far away with wide, panicked eyes. This was how he was going to die? Life was really unfair. The dark sky above him split, and his last terrified thought was, Life, why does the lightning have to strike the pool t-.

Well, I realized that all my nice italics and such disappeared when I uploaded this the first time, so I fixed it a little, probably not enough though. I'll do a proper job later, I think.

This story is also on Quotev (uploaded by me, of course), and I don't claim to own BEN Drowned or any other Creepypasta that make appearances in this story, but I certainly own the plot and any re-imagined ideas found. Oh, and the original characters, they're mine too. If you particularly like my headcannons, feel free to use them, but tell me so I can see what you do with my babies!

Hope you enjoy this novel-like fanfiction! It is expected to be between 50-60 thousand words when it is completed, and it certainly isn't much like any other CP fanfiction you've ever read before. I know this, because if it existed I would be reading that instead of writing this.

Leave as much criticism as you please! But I do hope you enjoy the journey as much as I do.

-ThatHipsterBookworm