Chaotic Company || A MultiFandom Chaotic Fanfic

The Spamton Parable

(if you know TSP, then uh, yeah. Jumpscare.
Bit of a long one! Sorry for the very overdue wait.)

Spam's POV

This is the story of a man named Spamton...

When Spam woke up, he had a huge headache.
He was 90% sure he'd been hallucinating all day, so he wasn't too surprised.
He kept hearing a voice in his head.
It was disturbing, especially because it sounded distant. Like it wanted to contact him but couldn't fully communicate.
"[Hopes and dreams] 1t never c4n.." Spam muttered under his breath, sighing and sitting up.
He didn't even know where they were. It was like they'd been zapped into the CandyLand board game: Life size edition.

Wasn't his favourite location, despite all the candy. Marx certainly enjoyed it.
If he didn't have a stranger speaking in his brain, maybe he would've been able to enjoy it, too.
He'd heard his name called a few times, although the voice said "Spamton" and not "Spam", but the voice describing him and his actions made him uncomfortable.
And he got the feeling the speaker was probably nearby.

Spam stepped out of the tent, narrowing his eyes. He could barely see, it was the middle of the night.
He could make out the other tents and the side of the nearby cliff.
Was he really going out in the middle of the night to search for what may very well be a hallucination?

Observing his surroundings, Spamton would come to notice the out of place door on the side of the cliff. Said... Something.

Spam looked around quickly, on edge. There was no possible speaker in sight.
The voice was right, tho. There was a door on the odd chocolaty cliffside, cold gray metal. Right beside their camp.

It wasn't there yesterday. Someone obviously would've noticed it. Someone would have investigated.
Why was it suddenly there now?

Perhaps, the door was calling to Spamton. Maybe, behind it lay something only he was meant to see. Suggested the voice in his head, answering his unspoken question.

"L1STEN H3RE Y0U." He shouted at the sky. "I [Donut] L1 KE YOU."

"SHUT UP, UP." Jevil's voice yelled back, from inside the tent him and Dimentio had been sharing.

"1'M TOO BUSY 4RGUING W ITH [[My demons]] TO SHUT UP." He yelled back.

"WHAT." Was Jevil's response.
That clown around town wouldn't understand, Spam decided. He probably didn't have a voice in his head.
Spam thought for a moment, then took that back.

He probably didn't have a voice like this, at least.
Spam was 90% this one was British, going off the accent.
Which didn't really mean anything much, other than raise the question of why an old British man was in his head.

The voice cleared it's throat, echoing in his head.
Perhaps, Spamton should investigate this new door, and see what wacky adventure may await him on the other side. It suggested enthusiastically.
In response, Spam crossed his arms and sat down, saying more quietly.
"4nd what 1f [I refusal!1!]?"

Or, Spamton could sit down like a stubborn mule, ignoring adventure's call, and deal with the Narrator until he finally gets on with the story.
Said the 'Narrator'.
Is that was this was, a Narrator?
Why the #$%@ did he need a Narrator?

Unwilling to deal with this weirdo clogging his thoughts forever, Spam got to his feet, almost tripping over something in the dark, and stepped towards the door. Maybe if he played along, the voice would go away.

Despite being a metal door with an obvious handle, it opened as automatically as the doors of an elevator, swinging open to reveal an oddly plain hallway on the other side.