He dreamt of flames and black oozing monsters with shark mouths, of secret passages and home cooked meals made from Andre and Pete's dismembered bodies. He tossed and turned in a fitful rest coming in and out of consciousness several times. It didn't matter if he was awake or in a dream nothing made since so he just let himself drift, hoping that the world would work itself out while he rested.
When he finally woke, he was coved in sweat and his entire body ached. His head, no different from the rest of him felt like it had been split in two and crudely sewn back together. The first thoughts to come to him were thoughts of denial. He must have done some sort of weird drug, he was probably late for his new filming job by now. Upon noting that the bed he was on was too small and his legs hung over the end he concluded that he must have gone home with someone last night, maybe he had been drugged?
With as much courage as he could muster he finally blinked his eyes open, looking up at the pale ceiling noting the light streaming in from a nearby window. It was easy to determine that this was definitely not his studio apartment. With a feeling of dread, he turned his head to look around the room, noting that it was the room of a child. His eyes flitted around the walls glazing over the trophies on the walls and the soccer ball on the floor he began to panic …. Again. This could not be real! If it was he would already be dead. He would have burned in that room!
But was he dead? No, he could not be dead, he was pretty sure dead people didn't feel pain. So, where the hell was he?
So many thoughts swirled in his head he was starting to feel dizzy. Sighing and placing his head into his hands he caught a glimpse of his left forearm. In long jagged letters the word 'LOSER' was still etched into his skin. All of the other injuries that he had sustained in the past two days were now nothing more than tender patches of flesh, looking like they had happened months ago not the day prior. However, the painful letters where still clear as day on his arm, left as an ugly reminder that this in fact was really happening! Clancy shot out of the bed rushing straight for the wooden door, of course it was locked! Great!
He turned around letting himself fall back against the door placing his hands on his thighs and letting his head hang heavy. "Is this another stupid saw trap?" He asked no one. He spent several moments trying to force his breathing to return to normal, he calmed himself with thoughts of determination. He had survived 5 hours surrounded by shark-faced tar monsters, the immortal man with chainsaw scissors, and the world's worst birthday party, dying now via a panic induced shock in a child's bedroom would just be sad. With these thoughts in mind Clancy stopped to really look around the room. 'What do I need to do?' he asked himself. Everything in this madhouse was a puzzle in some way or another, it was just like starting from square one, like the first time he woke up chained to a bed in the other bedroom. At least this time he was free to walk around.
'These people seem to hide stuff in weird places, all I have to do is find the right items and I'm free to go.' He assured himself. There was no time to waste since he had no idea when his "savior" would be back so he began his search of the room. He looked through everything, searching from top to bottom only occasionally stopping to kick the stacked plushy dice out of his way. During his search, he came across some very disturbing insights. The first thing he noted was he new attire. Some of his clothing items were different than he remembered. His red flannel was missing leaving him in a grey t-shirt, his hat was gone as well. His hair ties and watch were also missing, they had probably burned off in the fire. Looking down at his pants he noted that they were defiantly not the gray blue skinny jeans that he brushed flames off of the day before, but had been replaced with a pair of lose fitting black pants his shoes were completely M.I.A. He didn't want to think of what fate might have befallen his missing clothes instead choosing to focus on the situation at hand. He distracted himself from thoughts of someone undressing him when he was unconscious by reading a few stray diary entries he had found. By this point in time Clancy was unsurprised to discover that Lucas had ostensibly murdered one of his "friends" at a young age by starving him to death in the attic. "I guess crazy starts early." He spoke to himself. The diary had also tipped him off as to how to get into the attic.
Looking around for a second he found the trophy turned lamp before setting down the diary in plain site on a table for any other unfortunate victims of the Baker family to find. He was more than a bit apprehensive climbing up the ladder into the attic. He stuck his head up looking back and forth in search of any signs of tar monsters or decaying children. He found neither, thankfully! He stepped off the ladder looking at the cluttered room. Best case scenario he could find something he could use as a weapon so he could hit that bastard Lucas whenever he showed his face again! The first thing that stood out to him was the dollhouse in the far corner walking up to it he noted that it seemed very well maintained which was surprising considering the state of the rest of the house. He pried on the front of the house but found it locked somehow. Peering through the window he could see what looked like a key inside. "Great! This is definitely another stupid puzzle," he sighed out. He looked around finding a light projector shining on a painting of a woman being attacked by an angry mob. A man loomed over the young women he appeared ready to strike her with a large axe. The picture was desaturated where the man should have been. Giving up on opening the doll house he turned to explore the rest of the room. Searching in the back of the room he found a toy axe and toy shotgun. He laughed at the irony, "so much for finding a weapon!" he said while twirling the useless shotgun in his hand.
It was then that Clancy heard the door to the room unlock he was startled and ended to dropping the gun, it clattered to the floor skidding a few feet away from him. He could hear the door being pushed open slowly, then it was quietly shut again. From below he could hear someone walking around. Clancy crouched down listening for any signs as to who exactly was in the room. He didn't have to wait long to discover who had wandered in. By now Lucas's voice was familiar to him and he recognized it immediately,
"Clancy!" he hollered, "Where ya at buddy?" He could hear Lucas walking over toward the ladder that ascended to Clancy's current hiding space. "Clancy my man, come on down now. I won't hurt ya. I promise." Clancy sat in silence his brain working hard to figure a way out of this situation. "I know you're up there! There's no way out except to come down." Lucas called up.
"Fuck you!" came the muffled response.
"No no-no, come on now buddy, don't be like that! After everything I've done for you?" was Lucas's reply. He must have been right under the ladder.
"Done for me?!" he yelled in disbelief, "You have done nothing but try to kill me in awful ways!" Anger flooded in making him feel too hot.
"Those were just games; don't you play games with your friends Clancy?" Clancy could hear the laughter in Lucas's voice.
'Sick fuck!' he thought to himself up in his perch.
"Come on now Clancy, its rude to keep someone waiting. I even went through the effort of getting you a little treat!" Lucas voice had a nasty edge to it now, Clancy could tell that Lucas was running out of patience. There was silence for a beat where Clancy could only hear his own breath. "Well, I guess if you won't come down," Lucas finally said, "I could always leave you up there for a bit. I'm sure you'll get hungry eventually!" he laughed coldly. "We can make in another game, I'm gonna call it 'see how ungrateful assholes can last without food'." His voice had dropped to an icy whisper. Clancy froze as he remembered the kid, Oliver, who was likely Lucas's first kill. Panic was creeping his way up his spine as it so often did when Lucas was around, he had no doubt that he would gladly let him starve to death up here. Not that he had actually seen any appealing food anywhere in this house. Still though the thought of starvation spurred him on.
"NO!" he shouted. The word had left his mouth seemingly without his permission. "W-wait," he stammered. He crawled over to the edge of the ladder, looking down he could see Lucas smiling up at him expectantly. "I'll come down," he said, "Just- just step away from the ladder." Lucas said nothing, only cocking an eyebrow before walking over to the other side of the desk near the window. Clancy hesitantly placed his foot on the top of the ladder. He paused to calm himself, he considered running for the door as soon as his feet hit the floor.
"You're fucking horrible at naming things." He commented at Lucas as he placed his foot on the top rung of the ladder. Lucas didn't comment just continued to watch as his victim came down the ladder.
He kept his eyes on Lucas for the duration of his decent. Lucas leered back at him, a lecherous smirk was on his face. That look alone made Clancy want to crawl back up into his perch for safety. When he was finally off the ladder he turned to face Lucas, who's smile grew, he reached forward quicker than Clancy could figure out what he was doing and hit the switch on the trophy that rested on the desk. Behind him he heard a mechanical whirl kick on before the ladder started to retract into the safety of the ceiling.
"Okay now Clancy," Lucas said, "it's time for your checkup."
"Huh? Check up?" Clancy questioned.
"Well yea, gotta make sure everything is properly sealed up and you don't need more 'a that." He explained gesturing to a black bag near the door of the room that Clancy hadn't noticed.
"What's in the bag?" Clancy asked as he continued to eye it skeptically. Rather than answer him Lucas walked across the room lifting the black sack from the floor. When he reached a hand in Clancy could hear the clinking of glass and then Lucas pulled out a familiar green bottle of first aid. Clancy almost signed in relief, a lot worse things could have been pulled out of that bag than magical bottles of serum that defied the laws of nature.
"Why would you help me?" Clancy asked cocking his head to the side
"Isn't it obvious, silly?" Lucas smirked at him while shaking the bottle a bit. "We can't start any more games if your too injured to play, now can we?" Any relief Clancy felt upon seeing the bottle drained from him at the idea of another "game."
"Fuck!" Clancy chirped out in a despairing tone. "Please! Haven't I played enough games? You sick son of a bitch!" a since of desperation was creeping up in his voice, "You said you would let me go after I beat you at blackjack!" Lucas set the bottle down on the bed before rounding on Clancy.
"Well, you see this is how it works," he said as he advanced on his victim. Clancy took a step back holding both hands up in a pacifying manor. Lucas's face had taken on a dark look, for once there was no trace of a smile.
"Stay away from me!" he yelled. Lucas ignored him continuing forward.
"you play my games," Clancy was backed into the corner of the room Lucas paused within arm's reach of the man in front of him. "you win the games," he grabbed Clancy's shirt pressing him back into the wall. "And you get to live." Clancy shook his head back and forth in denial a steady string of no's leaving his mouth. "Well, until I get bored of you that is." Lucas finished with a smile, his face a mere few inched from him. Clancy looked down at the pale hands grasping his shirt, his own hands had wrapped around Lucas's wrists pushing up his signature hoodie. He realized he was holding his breath and tried to force himself to release the CO2 building up in his lungs. Before he could get his body to obey though, Lucas had pulled him out of the corner, he felt a hand reach up grasping the back of his head yanking his hair sharply. He tried to get Lucas to let go, attempting to pry his fingers off his head but hand twined in his hair was unyielding. Lucas started walking forward pulling Clancy along until he stood in front of the bed and with seemingly little effort on Lucas's part Clancy found himself staring up at the ceiling back on the bed he had woke up in. He tried to sit up but was forced back down. Lucas wasted no time swinging one leg up over Clancy and straddling him one of his hands reaching to grab Clancy's throat the other reached down for a bottle of the first aid medicine. He set the bottle down near his victims head his probing gaze gave Clancy a once over. Clancy struggled to free himself, but like all of the other Bakers that he had encountered Lucas was equip with superhuman strength making it rather difficult for him to get free. He considered his captor's face, hoping dearly that bugs wouldn't start crawling out of his mouth like they had from his mother.
Lucas released his throat opting to grab his shoulders instead, using his new grip Lucas lifted him up flipping him so that he was face down on the mattress. Clancy struggled to free his arms from underneath his body so he could get more leverage, he stilled thought when he felt Lucas's hands pulling up on the hem line of his shirt. Fear and disgust mingled in his mind and rather than trying to free his hand his new objective was to pull his shirt back down to preserve his modesty. While he was able to make it difficult for Lucas he lost the fight over all ending up with the gray T being bunched up under his armpits.
"Stop struggling, it's not doing you any good." Lucas hummed, it seemed like he was speaking more to himself than to Clancy. He felt his fingers tracing up and down his back seemingly following some pattern.
"What are you doing?" Clancy asked from underneath him.
"I told you just lookin' to see how those burns healed up. Everything looks good up here he said." He said after a minute. He ran his hands down his back one last time before shifting to grab his right hand giving it a quick once over before switching to grab the left. Clancy remembered that yesterday both of his hands had been covered in swelling blister but his left hand had taken much more damage. His hand had not only been punctured by a nail in the party room, but even before that it had suffered rather brutal treatment, having two fingers detached thanks to a bad hand in blackjack. He felt Lucas run his own fingers over the circular scars wrapping around his pinky and ring fingers before moving to the palm of his hand where only a pinprick of white scare tissue remained from the nail. "Huh," he murmured, "looks like I did a pretty thorough job."
"Really? Cuz I think you miss a spot." Came Clancy's bitter response. He turned his palm face up arching his hand back to display the writing on his arm. Lucas remained quite momentarily, he took Clancy's offered hand in his looking over the word briefly his fingers traced the long-jagged letters causing his captive to shutter underneath him. After a long pause, Lucas dropped his wrist,
"I think that one can stay." He said. His voice had taken on an odd tone and rather than protesting Clancy struggled to figure out what it meant for him. Lucas then swung his legs off his victims back freeing him to sit up. Clancy scrambled to do so pulling down his still crumpled up shirt in the same motion. Lucas was standing about a foot from the edge of the bed, the bottle of first aid was still in his hand. He fixed Clancy with a stare before continuing, "Give me your leg, they were the worst." Not wanting to end up pinned down again, he obliged slowly sliding one leg out from under him, as Lucas kneeled down he considered kicking him in the face but when he began drawing his leg back to do just that Lucas reached out grabbing his ankle.
Clancy watched intensely as the pants leg was rolled up his leg, he hadn't bothered to check himself for injuries during his earlier search of the room so he was almost surprised to see the dark pink lines of scaring that were running up from his ankle and dipping down into his sock. Lucas didn't hesitate simply pulling a white towel out of the bag next to the bed placing it under the still healing leg. He then twisted the top of the first aid bottle and poured a generous amount of the liquid on to the scar tissue. The contents of the bottle felt cold on his skin and brought a weird tingling sensation with it, the towel caught the excess stopping it from soaking into the bed. After a minute or so Lucas used the edge of the towel to dry the rest of his leg off. Already he could see that the pink scars were lightening in color the tingling had turned into more of an itch that he had to work not to scratch. Lucas rolled his pant leg back down before reaching for the other leg, this one was not as bad only some faint lines remained around his ankle and on the back of his calf. This time instead of dumping the bottle out on his leg Lucas grabbed a cotton round and poured a small amount of the clear liquid onto it before wiping up and down the length of the scars. When he was satisfied that enough had been applied he recapped the bottle and put away all the supplies. Clancy pulled his legs into his chest watching Lucas repack the bag over the tops of his knees. When he had finished, Lucas looked back up, locking eyes with the man on the bed, "I gotta go put all this stuff away now." He said as he stood. "I'll be back later tonight with more food for ya." Lucas shoved his hand in the bag one last time fishing around in it for a second, "You can have this for now anyway." He tossed a green package and a water bottle at him which landed on the bed bouncing a bit before rolling to Clancy's side. He reached down to inspect the package first, finding that it was a bag of trail mix. He looked back up a Lucas murmuring his thanks before looking away. Lucas walked toward the door without acknowledgement but turned back to Clancy before opening it, "You be good and stay in here now, otherwise mom or dad might find you," he fixed Clancy with a hard stare, "I don't think they will be as nice as I am." He said in a sing song voice. Without waiting for Clancy's response, he slipped out the door. Clancy continued to stare at the door for a moment. He heard an audible click as Lucas locked the door, followed by footsteps retreating down the hall. He sighed, turning his attention back to the trail mix. He really was hungry, when was the last time he had eaten?
He was cautious enough to inspect the bag for signs of tampering first, but when he found none he quickly ripped into the bag practically pouring into down his throat. He tried to remind himself that he may not have more food for a while and that he should save this for as long as possible but it had been too long since the last time he had eaten and his self-control was shot. Both the trail mix and the water were finished in minutes leaving Clancy still very hungry and unsatisfied. He looked around the room trying to figure out how to keep himself entertained until Lucas's return.