____________𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣!____________
Put a lot of greek mythology Easter eggs here and there, so hope you enjoy!
We need more killer Schlatt fics, and I'm taking matters into my own hands😡😡, imma try to write a progressive fic...
----Ok so the title photo isn't working at all, I think I broke it somehow, whatever, it's fine. 📌Cigarettes and smoking, mention of skin biting and Niki drinking alcohol yuh📌----
-Schlatt's POV-
You know? I think i should stop hoping for the better to come at this point.
As soon as Wilbur was dragged away from me, guards didn't waste a minute before running into my cell and taking hold of me until I practically couldn't move anymore.
"H—hey!" I struggled, as I was pushed out of the cell, nobody really telling me where I was going. Just yelling.
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"What's happening?!" nobody.
Well fucks sake it would be nice to tell me what happened! Did Quackity say something bad? Like— human decency won't kill anyone!
And the silent treatment remained, until I was back in my old restrains, thrown back into a familiar patted room, without any fresh air, with the mean guard outside...
Well. What else could possibly go wrong? _________Sorry that was short____
-Wilbur's POV-
I'm waiting, still not sure on what to do. Dad dropped me off at Tommy's house, where he told me to take the keys under the front doormat and get in.
What just happened? Nobody told me. Dad didn't tell me anything after he took me here, he just drove off.. So what do I do here? Maybe I should.. Um, walk around? It would be good to pack... Stuff up. From the room upstairs.
So with a heavy heart, I turn to the stairs, going up, holding my breath as if someone was sleeping.
One two three...
Four five six...
Seven eight nine...
I find myself up on the last step, nineteen in total, looking at the door infront of me.
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I quietly took the caution tape down, and turned the handle to open the door, walking in the silent room.
I noticed I had subconsciously grabbed a bag while walking upstairs, so I quickly turned my attention to the dusty desk on the side of the room. Loads of equipment like a keyboard and a mouse were on it, all closed, but I couldn't bring myself to touch them. Instead, I picked up the many cans of Cola around them, throwing them in the bag.
