Games

Ch 29: Jeffery(s)

Ty and I slept in the secret room last night.

His original plan was that I would sleep on the couch while he just slept on the floor (he refused to leave me alone last night, he wanted to be by my side for whatever reason – not that I'm complaining), but I found an extra budder bed in one of the chests and forced him to sleep in it with me. Not with me, just, like.. with me. Yeah.

Ty says that he'll have to pretend to hate me again whenever the GameMaster or the rest of the Team is around; he doesn't want the GameMaster to find out he told me about all this, because then the GameMaster might hurt me.

"But if one of our friends tries to harm you again," Ty told me last night as I mentally corrected 'our friends' to 'his friends,' "call for me, okay? Because screw it, I'll help you out and we can just own the GameMaster together."

So, yeah. Ty doesn't hate me. Ty is my friend.

I like that.

There's still a little part of me that wants to believe that this is just some huge prank, some kind of evil trick. That when I wake up tomorrow morning, Ty will genuinely hate me again.

I don't know.

I try to ignore it.

Ty is with the others right now, acting like he hates me and is scared of me, and I'm hiding in my room, crying and acting like it's because Ty hates me.

Yeah, it's not.

You see-

"Shut up, boy, don't go spilling your secrets to everyone you meet."

Yeah.

My dad is back.

I guess he sensed my slowly growing happiness and figured he should put a stop to it.

Yeah.

My father is so caring.

"Stop with the sarcasm, kid, you're making it harder to communicate with your thoughts."

Oh, I'm so sorry, dear father! I'll put an end to the sarcasm right away. I certainly wouldn't want you to stop invading my privacy by reading my mind, now would I? That would be terrible!

"It doesn't matter anymore, I got past it. Keep going, if you want."

I sigh, wiping my eyes with my gloves and then leaning back against the headboard of my bed. At least he doesn't bother me that much. It's just the occasional comment on my thoughts, that's all. So long as I don't picture anything rebellious or inappropriate, I should be fine-

"You think rebellious and inappropriate things?"

Erm, no?

"Son, I'm not an idiot. I heard that question mark."

How? It's a freaking question mark!

"Don't argue with me," he growls.

"Oh, great, now William's rubbing off on you," I mutter. "Next you'll be hating me unfairly, tearing me away from my happiness, and trying to get me to kill my friends- Oh, wait, you already do that."

He ignores me after that. In the past few hours, I've found that he doesn't appreciate it when I talk about the GameMaster. I think they have some kind of weird past together. I mean, I already know that the GameMaster hates me because I'm the son of Herobrine; now I just have to figure out what the deal is with those two.

"Dinner time!" the GameMaster shouts. Oh, wow. I don't think we've ever had a proper dinner in the time that we've been on the game show. Most of the time, we were consumed by either Challenges or wounds, whether they be physical or emotional. "Skybrine, please trip and die on the way to the Dining Hall."

"Yes, sir!" I shout, saluting the air as I march out of my room (after wiping my eyes one more time, of course). Then I pause in the middle of the hallway. "Wait, we have a Dining Hall?"

"Yes, we do."

"How come we never use it?" Like, dude, you could at least tell us we have one!

"You guys are always crying in your bedrooms about your horrendous social lives."

"Shut up, it's your fault."

"And I am extremely proud," he replies, and I groan as I wait in the hallway for the others.

Then I remember I don't have to do that anymore.

Or maybe I do, since Ty is my friend again..?

Nah, screw it. I don't wanna blow our cover or anger anyone else in Team Crafted.

As I jog across the plains biome to the blood red building that I swear wasn't there yesterday, I wonder what sick trick he'll try to play on us at dinner. Will he make us hunt our own Jefferys? Jason would hate that. No, like, Jason would really hate that. It would probably traumatize him. Okay, here's the plan: If William reveals that we are having fresh pork for dinner, I am shoving Jason outside, whether he wants me to or not.

And that idiot GameMaster had better not offer Ian cake- Oh, hold on, I think the GM actually took away Ian's Derp powers before the game show.

Hmm, are any of my other friends at risk?

Uh, Quentin isn't too fond of seafood, despite being a 'mudkip' and not a fish... Jerome won't eat cooked fish... Other than that, we're all good.

Ugh, I hate how I'm still worrying about them even though they're not worrying about me anymore. I need to stop that.

But I'm not sure I can.

"Hey, Sky."

What?

"Hey, Sky. Sky, Hey."

What do you want?

"Hey, Sky-"

"You sound like a squid," I mumble as I walk.

"Do I? Hmm. Aren't those the creatures you have a horrible phobia of?"

"It's not a phobia!" I defend myself, my cheeks heating up.

"Maybe it wasn't before you joined this crap game show, but it certainly is now."

"It's none of your business, anyways," I grumble.

"Oh, wow, so now you're talking to yourself?" Mitch snickers, walking up behind me with the rest of TC.

I sigh. "No."

"Really? Then who exactly were you talking to?" Jason asks.

"I- Um-" I can't tell them it was Herobrine, they'll flip out and think I'm even more like Him! What do I do? People don't normally communicate telepathically, and even if I could telepathically communicate with normal people, who would I talk to? Everyone hates me except Ty-

"Guys, come on, I'm hungry," Ty says quietly, pushing Mitch and Jason forward and away from me. The others follow, and Ty shoots me a 'we will definitely talk about this later' look.

I just shrug and continue on toward the blood red building.

"Are you eight ready for dinner?" the GameMaster yells as we enter. I don't even bother covering my ears this time. Sure, I'm feeling a lot happier now that Ty doesn't hate me, but my father is still listening in on my thoughts. Even if he wasn't, you have to be really happy to be me. Like, I require ridiculously large quantities of happiness each day just to be who I am.

That's why my personality collapsed so quickly when Ty started hating me. Or pretending to hate me. Whatever.

"We're doing something special for dinner," the GameMaster says, and I can practically hear him smirking. "We're feasting on pork chops, cooked fish, and cake! Oh, and body parts, too, but that bit is optional."

My eyes widen. OmiNotch, I was right! But if I know the GameMaster, and I think I sort of do, he won't just stop there. He'll go even farther.

I'm already moving towards Jason, who will definitely be affected the most, when the GameMaster speaks again. "But this isn't any regularly served dinner," he begins even as I push Jason (against his will) towards the building's exit. While Jason struggles against me and whispers harshly at me about my idiocy, heritage, and murderous tendencies, the GameMaster finishes his small speech.

"We're going to hunt for the pigs and fish for the fish – we're going to murder all the Jefferys!"

WOOT WOOT