[ Flipside - A DSaF Fanfic ]

[ Chapter 3 | First Time in The Flipside ]

    "Hello, old sport!" 

    Jack looked to see where the voice came from. It was...Dave? But...how could he be here when he kidnapped- no, killed that kid. The Dave standing in front of him looked like the one he used to strangle kiddies with back in the 1980's, tall and purple. Not the Dave he had seen last back when Peter and him still worked at that god awful job. That Dave had been in a moldy rabbit suit. 

    Dave's skin was dotted with stitches. He looked stitched together like a doll, probably from something Henry did to him.

    He was frozen for a bit, but then charged towards him, and hugged Dave.

    "I missed you, you purple fuckface!" Jack yelled; the hug pushed Dave back. Dave looked down at him, speechless for a moment.

    "Jack...how did you get here...?" He sounded concerned and was quieter, breaking away from the hug. "You didn't die...did you?"

     "What- No? I just went through an arcade machine and- Actually, it sounds a lot crazier now that I'm saying it out loud. But no, I didn't die." He sighed, looking around at the nightmare-pizzeria. "What is this place, exactly?"

    "It's the flipside, Sportsy! The place where lost souls go to! Like me! :D" 

    Jac scratched the back of his neck. "Okay...first question, how did you say an emoticon out loud? And secondly, did you...die, then?" The word "die" was hard to get out of his mouth.

    He shrugged, speaking too casually for the topic. "I have no idea how I did that...oh yeah, and I sorta died? Like, my soul split off into two. I think there's still an 'alive' me somewhere out there. But I don't know..."

    "Okay, so, you're just going to dump all of that info onto me?! Really?!" He groaned, his thumb and pointer finger pressing against the ridge of his nose. Dave mumbled something along the lines of an apology, or something. He couldn't really hear him. He didn't have the energy to care. He needed to get to work, not sure how long he could stay in this place before being sent back. So, he decided, he'll have to look around to understand more about this dark place.

    Jack grabbed Dave by the wrist and began to walk. Dave tilted his head slightly, as he was being dragged along. "Sportsy, where are we goin'?" Dave spoke air-headedly.

    "This is my first time being here. You're going to show me around at least."

    "...like a date~" Dave chimed, before getting cut off.

    "If you want it to be." Jack responded curtly, not having the energy to put emotion into his voice. But, despite his voice being apathetic, he did feel excited to go somewhere with Dave. 

    Dave spotted something in the corner of his eye. He began pulling Jack along now instead of vice versa. Dave seemed quite happy, skipping along rather than walking. The place barely had any light, and any drawings on the walls looked distorted and torn. There were so many hallways... 

     Jack swore he could hear whispers gliding pass his ears. Jack wondered how Dave could have so much energy in such a dreary place. He was a little afraid, but kept a calm composure, not wanting to show weakness. But, as they were walking, a trashcan fell over, breaking Jack's illusions of calmness. He leaped backward, startled. Dave didn't seem affected by it, probably used to it having existed in such a place for so long.

    "FUCK." He yelped, moving away from the trash can. He cleared his throat, returning to his cold composer. 

    "You good, sportsy?"