Warning: Intense sarcasm ahead. Proceed at your own risk. :3
Games
Ch 27: Geez, What Were You Thinking?
"Worthless."
Shut up.
"Stupid."
Shut up, please.
"Unwanted."
"I ASKED YOU NICELY!" I screech.
"SHUT UP! WE'RE TRYING TO SLEEP!" Jerome shouts from upstairs.
"YEAH, WELL, SO AM I!" I shout back, tugging on my hair. My jerk of a father has been telepathically insulting me all night, and I have gotten no sleep at all whatsoever.
"You're welcome, son."
"Yeah, thanks," I mumble.
"No problem, it's my job to make you feel like crap. Which is exactly what you are, by the way."
I groan and pull my pillow over my head. "I can't do this," I say, and it comes out as a sob.
"COULD YOU MAYBE WEEP A LITTLE MORE QUIETLY, YOU BIG BABY!?" someone from upstairs shouts.
"OH, I'M SORRY, IS MY EMOTIONAL PAIN BOTHERING YOU? I'LL JUST GO BACK TO BEING MENTALLY AND EMOTIONALLY ABUSED BY MY DEMONIC FATHER THEN!" I shout back, willing my voice not to shake. It shakes anyways.
"Son, you won't believe this," my father's voice rings in my head again, and I groan.
"What? What won't I believe?" I ask quietly.
"I'm watching them upstairs... They're literally just pressing their ears up against the floor and waiting to hear another sob from you. I think they find it rather entertaining."
My eyes widen. No way. "They are not."
"They are."
"Liar. That's just stupid, why would they even do that?"
"They want to see you in pain, obviously. You should have taken me up on my offer. You could have killed them and gotten back your role as Prince of the Nether." Oh, please. That's your worst try so far, Dad. I mean, I get that they hate me and all, and it makes sense that you would use that to try to make me join you again. But honestly – pressing their ears against the floor to hear my sobs? I don't think so. They're not that cruel. They don't take joy in other people's sadness.
At least, I don't think they do.
Maybe they don't count me as a person. Maybe they do take joy in my sadness.
This is stupid.
"But they're my friends. Erm, I mean, I'm their friend. And I don't want to hurt them."
"You're such an idiot sometimes."
"Whatever," I mumble, closing my eyes and trying to go to sleep.
"You could still join me, you know. I'd give you a second chance to accept my offer."
I huff. "Could you just leave me alone? The wonderful William will probably want to spring another Challenge on us tomorrow, and I'd like to be at least a little prepared."
"Just think about it."
"I would if you'd get out of my head."
Suddenly I feel lighter, and I can tell my father has finally decided to give me some privacy.
Now, I did tell him I'd think about it.
Give me a second while I consider whether I should consider considering it...
Nah. I still don't wanna hurt my friends.
Just as I'm finally beginning to drift off to sleep, a loud voice interrupts me. "PLEASE REPORT TO THE SPAWN AREA."
"ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!? IT'S, LIKE, THREE IN THE MORNING!" I whine, throwing my pillow at the wall and kicking off my blankets.
"Oh, don't worry, Skybrine, it's a fun Challenge! No one even gets badly hurt in this one!"
"Physically?"
"Physically. Not incredibly physically injured, anyway. "
"What about mentally and emotionally?"
He doesn't answer, and I groan, rolling off the bed. I immediately stumble toward the Spawn Area, not bothering to change out of my night clothes. Ugh, stupid GameMaster. I need my beauty sleep!
I arrive long before anyone in Team Crafted does, meaning I now have plenty of time to talk to the GameMaster. Brilliant. "So, Skybrine, feelin' good this morning?"
"Oh, just peachy. How 'bout you, William? Have you had a good start to your day?"
"Indeed I have! Thanks for asking. I look forward to your death today."
"What."
"Okay, fine, you won't actually die today. Probably. Okay, nah, you'll probably die today."
"What."
"We're here! Is the Challenge ready?" Jason asks the GameMaster, leading the rest of TC into the Spawn Area.
"It is! Please follow me," he says, opening the brown door with the words "CHALLENGE FOUR" above it in green letters.
Inside the Challenge room is an 8 by 8 block plot of grass surrounded by several rings of blocky, beige flooring. There's a nether brick fence around the grassy part, but the rest of the room is bare.
"In this Challenge, each of you will enter the grass plot one at a time, and the rest of you will rate that person from one to ten. When we've decided which person is the most hated in the group-"
"I win," I announce immediately, raising a hand as I walk to the grass plot. "Now what?"
"But we didn't rate-"
"Can you honestly tell me that you believe someone other than me could be the most hated in this group?"
"... No. Not really."
"That's what I thought. Continue, please."
The GameMaster shrugs and waves the Team over to the grass plot. "You seven will stand around the plot and basically just do whatever you want. I will supply you with any materials you want, but you are also allowed to throw weightless things like insults. You have ten minutes to do what you want."
"Seriously?" I ask, my jaw dropping.
"Seriously. Do you have a problem with that?"
"Actually? Yes," I answer him. He raises an eyebrow. "Why ten minutes? Why not twenty? Geez, what were you thinking?"
"I was thinking I'd go easy on you."
"Well, that's stupid and it shows favoritism. You shouldn't favor me, William. You need to give the others a fair chance to vent their feelings."
"Twenty minutes it is."
"Good. I approve."
Ty shoots me a confused look, and I just shrug and sit down in the middle of the plot. What does he care, anyway?
"Commence the killing of the Sky!" I shout in the most authoritative voice available to me. This should be fun. Not really, but whatever. I can deal with a little more pain – I deserve it for hurting Ty and even considering considering considering hurting my other friends. I deserve this for being the heir to the throne of the Nether. I deserve this for being Skybrine.
Plus, this'll be a good way for the others to get out their anger. That's why I told the GameMaster to increase the time to twenty minutes; I've heard it's not healthy to keep all your anger and hatred bottled up inside.
"So we just... we just throw things at him?" Seto asks hesitantly. "We just hurt him?"
The GameMaster nods, pressing his lips together in a strange smile. "Just hurt him. If you need anything – blocks, swords, spawn eggs, you name it – I'll give it to you."
"But if we hurt him, we're just like him!" Jason protests.
"What do you mean?" the GameMaster asks. Yes, I'm very curious.
"He means that, while Skybrine hurt Ty and completely deserves this, we'd just be stooping to his level if we hurt him back," Jerome explains.
Oh, wonderful. Now I can be used in the sentence, 'If we try to murder that guy, we'll be just as bad as Skybrine!' Perfect. Brilliant. Life is going exactly how I've always wanted it to, this is great.
Oh my Notch, the sarcasm literally hurt my brain just then.
"Nah, it's alright," the GameMaster assures them. "It's no big deal. You're really only helping the world out by hurting him, actually, considering he's going to grow up to be king of the demon world."
Ian raises an eyebrow skeptically. "What even is the point of this Challenge?" he asks.
"If Skybrine survives, he'll be eligible for winning, but he won't actually win, because I hate him," the GameMaster confesses bluntly. "As for the rest of you, whoever puts the most heart into murdering Skybrine will win."
"That seems like a good place to insert a bad pun," Mitch says, walking over to the GameMaster. "Quick, gimme a pig heart or something so I can chuck it at Skybrine."
The GameMaster chuckles slightly. "Extra points just for that," he says. "But the number of hearts you throw at Skybrine won't actually affect who wins."
"This seems immoral," Quentin mumbles, staring at me where I sit calmly on the grass. I'm sitting criss-cross applesauce and my elbow is on my thigh while my hand holds up my head. I'm the freaking image of calm.
"Of course it's immoral, you should never use violence to solve your problems. However, you are in a deadly game show where morals don't apply. And anyways, Skybrine hurt you first."
"I guess, but that doesn't seem to be-"
"Ty?" the GameMaster asks, cutting Quentin off. "What is your opinion on this Challenge?"
"U-Uh, I... I-"
"Yes, Ty?"
"Well, I- I think it's- Erm..," Ty trails off, glancing between me and the GameMaster.
"We don't have all day, Ty."
Ty huffs and glares at William. "This is so pointless! If I go along with it, Sky gets hurt, but if I stand up for him, Sky gets freaking hurt! This is pointless!" he rages before spinning around and stomping out of the Challenge room.
What. Just. Happened.
Halp, I'm confused.
I'm only registering two things right now. One: Ty stomped out of the room before he got a turn in throwing heavy/sharp objects at me, which could possibly mean he doesn't entirely hate me. And two: Ty didn't call me 'Skybrine,' he called me 'Sky,' which could possibly mean he doesn't entirely hate me.
The GameMaster glances nervously at me as Ty exits the room, and I slowly stand up, turning to face him completely. "What the freaking Nether did you do?" I growl, not exactly understanding the situation but aware that the GameMaster has something to do with it.
The GameMaster made Ty mad. Therefore, the GameMaster made me mad.
"I didn't do anything!" the stupid GameMaster insists, holding up his hands in a defensive position. "Maybe Ty is convinced that Skybrine ate Sky or something, I don't know. I think the stress of being assaulted by his best friend is starting to get to his head."
"Do we still get to hit Sky?"
"You can't go past the fence, but here, take this bow and arrow! Oh, and I have a creeper spawn egg here somewhere as well..."
:O
OH, NU!
I need a social life.