'Alright, next question.' Stanley wrote. 'I heard that your manager said that you would be punished. What exactly would "they" do?'
Oh wow.. just the thought of punishment terrified The Narrator. He'd never been penalized before, so he could only guess. And considering the amount of power these beings had, the possibilities were endless. He clicked the pencil icon.
'As you have heard, they are able to do something to the game, and now that you've heard what they could do with that small suggestion I've made, just imagine what they would do if I screw up my job.' He wrote. 'On one hand, they could destroy my work, and I would have to start from scratch. That means that they wouldn't hesitate to end your existence the moment anything goes wrong.'
Stanley shuddered. He had killed himself before, but the thought of complete non-existence didn't sit well with him.
'On the other hand..' The Narrator continued, '..they could take away my memory..." It hurt to write this. 'I barely have anything left.. I don't know what else they could take.. like I said before, I can't even remember my real name... if I had a family or not.. who I am.' Tears were now in The Narrator's eyes. He let a sob go through the microphone. 'I.. I'm sorry. That slipped.'
Stanley felt a pang of guilt. 'Am I going too far?' He wrote.
'No.. its fine.' The Narrator wrote back.
Stanley looked down at the floor. He really hoped he didn't just hit a nerve there. He waited a moment, just to allow The Narrator to compose himself, and wrote another message.
'What are you planning on doing now?' Stanley put down the pencil, and tilted his head curiously at the ceiling. The Narrator stared at the message, and furrowed his brow. Was he really serious? He really thought he could do anything in his position?
The Narrator sighed and shook his head. 'I can't do anything. They're watching me. I'm completely powerless here.'
Reading the answer, an idea popped into Stanley's head. He immediately smiled and rushed to start writing. 'If you're constantly watched and vulnerable up there... what if you came down here?' He turned around to face the ceiling and grinned.
The Narrator was taken aback by the suggestion. Go down there? The very office that he had designed to trap Stanley forever? A bit confused to why Stanley would even think of this, he entertained the thought for a moment. Then again... he would have complete power in the game. It would be like controlling an entire realm. He would be completely safe, as long as he was careful. But how would he do it..? As much as The Narrator distorts reality within the game, he didn't actually possess any magical powers. It was all done on his computer. Hm, maybe he could bring a mobile control system along with him. All he would have to do is build it...
The Narrator smiled. This could work! 'Wonderful idea, Stanley! Truely brilliant! Although..' he thought about the problems with doing this. '..it would be incredibly hard to actually leave my recording room. What if "they" or my manager come to check up on me?'
Stanley's grin faded. Oh yeah. He forgot about that. 'But.. all you really need to do is get down here, right?' The Narrator replied with a yes.
Without warning, the door behind The Narrator swung open, and The Interviewer came in. "I KNEW IT!" The machine was set to a scary anger mask. "You were planning something, weren't you? You thought you could get away with this, didn't you?" He accused. The invisible force pushed The Narrator to the wall. He struggled against it.
"N-No! I was doing my job, I swear! Please don't hurt me!" He pleaded. His eyes landed on the monitor. Stanley had already gone to another room. At least The Interviewer wouldn't see any of that. The Interviewer went over to the reset button. The Narrator started struggling harder. "NO! DON'T-"
Too late.
The Narrator fell limp as a ragdoll, his cyan glow fading. He was released from The Interviewer's grip. The Interviewer watched, unfeeling as The Narrator fell to the floor. "I'll keep a closer eye on you." The Interviewer went over to the doorway. "Next time, do as you're told." He hissed, closing the door behind him.
As soon as the door clicked shut, The Narrator's glow flickered back on, and he shakily stood up. His head ached. How did that happen? And what was he doing all the way over here? He saw his computer, displaying Stanley's loading screen. He sat down on his roller-chair and flipped his script back to the start, ready to begin again.
The End Is Never The End Is Loading The End Is..
Stanley appeared back in his office. He stomped his foot in frustration. They did it again. THAT STUPID MANAGER DID IT AGAIN. Now he has to explain all of this to The Narrator. ALL. OVER. AGAIN. Stanley stepped out of his office, only to hear the one line that confirmed his thoughts.
"All of his co-workers were gone, what could it mean?"
Stanley was usually very silent and calm. He would usually ignore The Narrator's dialogue and move on. This wasn't one of those times. Horribly pissed off, he punched the wall to his right, leaving a deep, gaping hole. His hand was now cut and bleeding - maybe even broken - but he didn't care. He just really needed to let that out.
"Stanley decided to go to-" The Narrator stopped at the sound of a crash, and the sight of Stanley's bloody fist. The Narrator was speechless. Had he said something wrong? Did he do something in the last restart? Eyes darting back and forth, be ran a hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn't remember. Hesitantly, he leaned up to the microphone. "...Stanley?" He spoke quietly. "Is there something wrong?"
Taking a few calming breaths, Stanley bowed his head. As he calmed down, he winced. The pain was finally getting to him now. He sat down on the floor and cradled his hand. Blood dripped onto the floor, and so did a few tears. He wiped his eyes with his free hand. Dammit, what the hell was he thinking?
Turning his hand over, Stanley could see it was badly bruised and - wait, was it turning black and blue?! He gagged at the sight and tried not to look at certain parts of his hand. 'Okaay, try not to think of that..' he thought, shuddering a bit at the memory. The sharp pain growing stronger in his hand was almost unbearable, and he forced himself to look back at it. 'Oh God - now its worse.'
The bruises were covered up, yes... with more of his blood. A small puddle of it gathered on the floor. Not really wanting to move around, Stanley looked around him. Maybe there was something he could use to help him? Unfortunately, he didn't get very far when he had punched the wall, and he was barely in front of his office. He began to tremble at the stinging in his hand and a few more tears slipped out. Yeah, this wasn't the best idea.
The Narrator watched in silence. Feeling a bit bad for the employee, he typed a line of code onto the computer, spawning a roll of bandages next to Stanley. Stanley gladly accepted them, quickly snatching the roll and wrapping his hand. He hadn't even bothered to see if he was getting the bleeding parts, he just wrapped it as much as he could. Soon, his hand was covered in them. It was a bit rushed, he had to admit, but at least it stopped the bleeding. The Narrator sighed.
"Alright, at least you won't faint or die of blood loss. Now that that's over, I think we should get on with the story." Pages are heard being turned. Stanley stood up and dusted himself off. Might as well help The Narrator with his job. Stanley decided that he'd explain everything later, when he's in a better mood.
The Narrator took a breath, then paused."Ehm... you haven't been weakened or anything from this? You can still walk? I can reset the game if the injury is that serious..." He trailed off, as if he already had a hand over the reset button. Stanley quickly shook his head and gestured a "no" with his hands.
The Narrator huffed, returning to his usual tone. "Hmph. Fine then. I'm only trying to help. Oh, and thanks for the new hole in the wall. I didn't think this place needed decor like this, but I guess I'm wrong." The Narrator remarked. Stanley rolled his eyes and went into the room with two doors. The Narrator made a mock thoughtful noise. "Hmm. Looking at it now, I can see why you thought the room needed improvement. I'll have to.. jot that down." The Narrator hummed as he scribbled onto a notebook. "Need... more... holes." He muttered as he wrote. A pencil is heard being dropped onto a desk. "There. The idea's there. I'll consider it. Thank you for your contribution."
There was a moment of silence. Stanley just stood there, in the middle of the room, staring vacantly at the ceiling. The Narrator made a slight gasp and the script is heard being opened. "Oh, uh, right - the story. I've gotten myself quite off track, haven't I? Heheh.." The Narrator murmered to himself. He cleared his throat. "When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left." Stanley automatically went through the right door. "This was not the correct way to the meeting room, and Stanley knew it perfectly well. Perhaps he wanted to stop by the employee lounge first, just to admire it." Stanley strolled into the lounge, and plopped onto the couch. "And here it was, the lounge. What a room, Stanley thought to himself. What a room, what a room, what a room. This is what Stanley thought: what a room! What a room, what a room! What a room! What a room. What a room."
Stanley snickered at bit at The Narrator's dialogue. He really had to admire how comedic it is, despite everything that has happened so far. Yawning a little, he swung his legs onto the sofa, lying down and getting himself comfortable. The Narrator continued to say his dialogue. "Yeeesss, really, really worth it being here in the room. A room so utterly captivating that even though all of your co-workers have mysteriously vanished, here you sit looking at these chairs and some paintings. Really worth it." Stanley leaned his head against the arm of the chair, closing his eyes. Perhaps his injury had weakened him after all. He found it hard to get up now that he's laid down. Maybe he should just rest for a bit...
Silence filled the room. Its as if The Narrator had actually thought about Stanley over the story, and allowed him this one ti-
"Um... Stanley?"
Oh. Nevermind.
Stanley cracked open an eye. If he could, he would have groaned in annoyance. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He tilted his head and gave the ceiling a dull look, folding his arms. The Narrator cleared his throat nervously.
"Well, sorry for disturbing you. I was going to let you sleep, honestly. I just have a question." Stanley gestured with his uninjured hand to continue. "Alright just answer me this; why did you punch the wall in the first place?" Stanley immediately blinked his eyes awake. Well, I guess he can cross relaxing off the list. He wasn't exactly in a good mood, but this seemed like a good time to say something.
The Narrator continued. "I mean.. did I do something wrong? What had happened in the last restart? Have I.. have I said something..?" He asked in a hushed tone, actually sounding a bit worried at the thought. Stanley gestured another "no" before The Narrator could say anything else. That wasn't it at all! Not even close!
The Narrator breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah, good. I wouldn't want you to be unhappy, Stanley. That's the complete opposite of what I want." Stanley smiled at that. It was nice to know that The Narrator cared for him.
The script is heard being closed, along with creaking sound. The Narrator had leaned back on his chair. "Now, tell me, why did you choose to do such a thing, anyway?" Stanley sat there, unsure of what to say. "Go on, write on the wall. You think I can't see that pencil in your pocket? The writing will disappear when the game restarts anyway, along with the hole you made, so don't worry." A little unnerved at The Narrator's knowledge, Stanley reluctantly took out his pencil and began to write.
'I was mad that I would have to tell you everything all over again.'
The Narrator.. didn't know what to make of that. "Tell me everything again? What exactly do you mean by 'again?'"
Stanley cringed. He really hoped The Interviewer didn't hear any of that. He went on. 'I know about your manager. I know about your job. During the last restart, we were discussing on what to do next. Your manager came in and restarted the game. That's why you can't remember anything.' Before The Narrator could respond, he held a hand up. 'Don't say anything. If the game restarts AGAIN, I might need to punch another wall.'
The Narrator didn't say another word after that. He enabled the writing option on his mouse. 'So, what were we planning on doing, anyway?'
Stanley grinned. 'You're going to make a mobile controller, something that controls the game as well as whatever you've been using, and come down here. We're escaping this place.'
[Oh, what is this? Could it be? After so very long?]
[YESSS, A NEW CHAPTER!]
[Ehm.. apologizes for this being a filler chapter... and rather short compared to the rest of them. But at least its being worked on, right?]
[Alright, stuff's gonna happen in the next chapter, don't worry. Uh... until next time, I suppose!]
[Actually, before I go, I need to state a few things. There will be a poll coming up real soon, so be sure to check the top of my profile. Its important (well, not TERRIBLY important), that you fill it out. Also, I'm going to be dusting off and polishing my old fanfics. I'll just be adding a few sentences here and there, so if you see anything new, I added it in.]
[Okay, you may move on now.]
[Please review!]