McPunishment

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I woke up in a cold sweat, gasping and panting for air.
"A nightmare," I thought, sighing. Suddenly, I heard a noise coming from downstairs. It's probably just my mind playing tricks on me. I just had a nightmare after all. But then, I heard it again. And again.

"What the hell?" was all that ran through my mind at the moment. Hesitantly, I open my room's door. Nothing so far. That's a good sign. Maybe it's just a bird hitting its beak against my window. Yeah, of course. That should be it, right? All I could do right now was reassure myself that it was not some burglar or kidnapper. Walking slowly, I made sure to not make a sound. Creak. Crap. My floors are creaky. I suddenly heard footsteps approaching me. No, no,no, no, no please, no. I don't want to die.

"I heard you, McSweetie~"

What did he just say? McSweetie?
"C'mon, don't be shy, I brought a happy meal for you~"
Who is this man?
"Found you!" he came up from behind me.
I shrieked. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"
"Aww, you don't know me? That's a pity. I know you though. You're Y/N, I've had my eye on you ever since I figured out you refused to eat the Happy Meal fries when you were 8."
Why does he know me? HOW does he know me?
"Do NOT dodge the question." I needed my answers. "Who are you?"
The red-haired man chuckled deeply. "My name is Ronald McDonald. And I'm here for a very special visit for someone as special as you~"
"Why am I special?"
"Because," he continued, "You were a bad child, and all bad children need to be punished. I'm just trying to make it sound like it's a special moment in your life just so my job gets a little easier~"
"Your job?" I questioned Ronald.
"Yes, my job is to deal with the likes of you."
That doesn't sound too good.

"Oh, well. Guess what time it is?" He waited for my answer. When he got nothing, he spoke up,

"It is time for the McPunishment."

I just gave him a puzzled expression, only for it to change to that of a frightened one when he pulled out a rope. What is he going to do with that?

He grabbed me by my arm and dragged me to my dining table. I tried taking my arm back but he just wouldn't budge. His grip was way too tight. I screamed but he just taped my mouth shut. He made me sit down on a chair and tied me up. From his back pockets, he pulled out a small, brown McDonald's bag. He reached inside and pulled out a bunch of fries.

"This McSweetie," he devilishly grinned, "is the McPunishment. You are going to eat the same amount of fries you didn't eat that day. I do not have memories of watching you eating the Happy Meal myself as a clone, but this is the least I can do to respect those who came before me."

So THAT'S it! He knows me because a Ronald clone that came before him saw me dumping my Happy Meal fries. Then, they probably wrote it in their record.

He ripped the tape off my mouth, and I gasped. I didn't even have a chance to breathe properly before he shoved a handful of fries into my mouth.

"C'mon, eat it, McSweetie~" He laughed sadistically as he watched my breathless state trying to shove all the fries down my throat.

I was on the verge of tears. This was too much. I can't deal with this anymore. But he just kept going on. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes trying to make it seem like I'm begging for him to stop.

"Don't look at me with those eyes," he said as he grabbed another handful of fries to fill my mouth with, "it almost makes me pity you"

This went on for a good hour until you were screaming bloody murder just to get him to stop.

Which he did, only after all the fries were gone.

"Aw, they're all gone," he tried to sound sad. "I wanted to watch your reactions to the fries more"

"..." I couldn't talk. The fries had ruined my throat in ways unimaginable. The most that came out of my throat was a sound that resembled a frog's croak.

"Well! It was nice meeting you!"

What the hell? This man had just been brutally tortured and that was his reaction? Honestly, better than trying to kill me. I was thankful for that.

Seems I spoke too soon.

As soon as I thought he was about to turn and leave, he pulled out a shiny object. This is it, this is how I die.

"I'm sorry, McSweetie, I would've liked to get to know you better, but," his eyes glistened, "do you think your blood would make sweet ketchup?"

My eyes widened as I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. My body was going limp by the second, and the last thing I saw was Ronald.

A/N
What the hell was I thinking writing this.