Tommy finds himself stuck in a school with 19 other students, forced into a killing game by the mysterious mastermind. A new era of SMPronpa commences, giving DSMP-era MCYT fans a taste of that one forbidden fanfic.
CCs INCLUDED: Tommyinnit, Wilburs...
• This is a long chapter, it may take a while to read. (13k+ words) • If you haven't read the previous chapter in at least a week, I beg you to do so again. This chapter relies on the tension the last chapter brought, so it'll be very anti-climatic if you haven't read that very recently. Please don't rush to finish this, trust me, you'll prefer it if you read the last one beforehand. • Recommended to read on a PC & play all the background music videos provided.
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Distantly, Tommy could hear Quackity scream.
A gunshot.
Blood seeped through Sapnap's shirt. He rocked a bit in his place before falling onto his side.
Tubbo.
Tommy ran towards Tubbo, pulling him into a hug underneath him, surrounding Tubbo's direction of the gunshot with his body as he shook violently.
Behind him, someone steps out of the darkness. Tommy's stomach drops. He can hear Tubbogasp.
It's them. The real mastermind.
And finally, the show can begin.
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With loud, unsteady breathing, Tommy trembled. As he waited for a gunshot to hit him in the head, Tubbo clung firmly to the boy he was resting on.
Since the beginning of the game, they had been expecting to see the mastermind; now, he was standing behind them.
He could almost imagine all of his deceased friends' ghosts glaring at whoever was present. The voices he had once heard were no longer there, but he could still clearly recall them screaming at him to find the mastermind and put an end to the games.
Even if they weren't real -- they felt real enough.
A mans voice echoed from behind him. His tone was almost euphoric, but his words had a fitting harsh edge to them. And unfortunately, Tommy recognized it immediately.
"Good morning, Tommy."
With hesitation, he turned around and stared up into Wilbur's eyes, which seemed much darker than they were in his memory. He had a smug grin planted across his face.
