The Sixth Sense but it's Karlnap

Quackity

cw panic attack and talk of death

Karl stared at himself. He looked like shit. Red eyes, pale cheeks and hair that wouldn't cooperate, and he was so skinny, his clothes barely fitted him anymore, his jumper slid off his shoulder and his belt was too big, hanging loosely at his hips, threatening to fall if he took even a single step. As he scanned his thin body, he wondered how he could even walk with so little muscle, sometimes he wished he couldn't, people would pity him then, they wouldn't snigger at his panic attacks, they wouldn't bully him for his parents divorce, they wouldn't tease him for being so jumpy or thin; it would be better. But he didn't know what to do to look healthier, after all, its hard to eat properly when you're scared.

"Karl!" The sound of his mum's shouting, accompanied by two knocks at the front door lifted Karl from his daydreams and he took a last sorrowful look at himself before grabbing the brown backpack at his feet, slinging it over his shoulder and emerging from the bathroom. "Have a good day love, see you when you get home." His mum said, kissing his cheek and pushing him out of the door.

Outside, a short boy with black hair and a beanie waited, smiling at Karl and his mum as the door closed. He was quick to grab Karl's hand and pull him down the pavement, his smile falling and arm slipping from Karl's the moment they turned a corner.

"She still thinks we're friends? Idiot." the boy laughed, stepping a pace away from Karl as they walked, "like my ass would want to be friends with a freak anymore." The smirk on his face grew when he spotted Karl's low face, sniggering to himself at the others unease.

"So ghosty," Karl looked away, he hated that name, everyone called him that because he was always so pale and out of the way, like a ghost."Up late last night? I can see the bags practically pulling your eyes off, weren't having another panic attack again, were you?" He laughed again, adjusting the blue beanie rested on his head.

Karl held back his tears. It was true, he couldn't stop shaking all night, Sapnap had stayed until midnight holding him, he was better by then but the moment he left, the fear came back worse, refusing to let him get even an hour of sleep. He'd cowered under his bed covers for the rest of the night, wishing Sapnap was there to help him.

"Wilbur!" The beanie boy shouted in an overly exaggerative, high pitched voice, his whole body enveloped in the embrace of a tall, curly haired boy. He giggled as Wilbur lifted him off the floor and spun him around.

"Quackitee!" He said in a similar manner, smiling down at the other. Karl wanted to roll his eyes, but doing so surely wouldn't end well, instead he looked away. All he could think was how Quackity could be so horrible to him, then switch to fond kindness the moment Wilbur greeted him, maybe it was their mutual hatred for Karl, or the fact Quackity just didn't care, but whatever it was, he despised it as much as they did him.

Karl started to walk away, wanting nothing more than to stay out of everyone's way and patiently wait for his next meeting with Sapnap tonight. He'd surprised himself at how quickly he began to trust him, he didn't even expect he'd ever want to be around Sapnap, but here he was, disappointed they weren't together and excited to see him.

Daydreaming passes time well, and before long, Karl was sat at his desk, tuning out the dreadful noise of his professor's voice, thinking about anything other than what he should be; be it time travelers, Sapnap or trolls, the doors to his imaginary library were open, and in the restricted section was school, locked away, inaccessible to even the short, green, pixie librarian who occupied themselves by sorting books, throwing out old memories, making space on the shelves for new, better ones.

"So, does anyone think they know what his building was used for, hundreds of years ago, before it became a school?" God damn that librarian, they always had to dust the restricted section at the worst times and leave those books open and accessible. "Karl. Take a guess"

Karl jumped. He'd only just returned from his mind and had trouble processing his own name. Looking around, everyone was staring at him, their sly eyes hoping he would mess something up, judging everything about him, right down to his short, shallow breaths and shaking fingers.

"They-uh, used t-to hang people, here." He said, stumbling over his words like a hurdle. He felt cold goosebumps tickle his arms and the hair on his neck stood, he wanted to close his eyes and hide, maybe he'd feel safe then. "Ow" he gasped harshly, turning his head around and clasping a cold hand under the brown curls resting on his neck. The room filled with brief laughs and bickering, all beady, impish eyes on him, wondering what more Karl would do to look stupid.

"Ghosty's been bitten by Malcolm Crowe!" Wilbur's familiar deep voice shouted, sending even the quietest people in the room into laughter. Stupid Malcolm Crowe, a dumb ghost Will made up just to tease Karl, he had become widely known in the school as Karl's dead therapist, people often asking things like 'did you tell Dr.Crowe about your panic attack yesterday?' or 'does Malcolm know you cut yourself?' Quackity even edited Karl's face onto a stock image of two men kissing after he came to school with bruises on his neck that apparently looked like hickeys, claiming the other man was Malcolm. 

"Alright that's enough." The professor spoke up, smiling as he regained control over the class, shaking his head playfully at the jokes. "People weren't hung here Karl, it was used as a courthouse until the early 1900s." He corrected, chuckling under his breath, although it was very clear to Karl he was being made fun of.

"Yeah, and once they were found guilty, they would hang." Karl stated, looking straight into the professor's shocked brown eyes, "They were dragged from the building, crying and kissing their families goodbye. People watching would spit at them. Then they died, hung by the neck right outside the building. They died where the science corridor was built 50 years ago." Karl kept his cold hand under his hair, water pooling in his eyes at the pain in his neck, but he didn't avert his gaze, watching the confusion and fear on the professor's face as he spoke.

"Karl I don't know who told you that, but they were just trying to scare you, this building was used by lawyers and judges as-"

"They were the one's who used to hang everybody." Karl interrupted, finally looking away, down to his fingers that he played with under the desk to somewhat numb his apprehension. Quackity and Wilbur were still staring his way when the professor moved on, smirking and giggling, pretending to scare each other.

Karl suddenly felt cold again, rubbing his goosebump littered arms with dry fingers, shaking as his neck grew colder than the rest of him, he felt icy air stab his ear like an arctic icicle spearing him, it's bitter sensation traveling all through him. He wiped his red eyes, feeling something warm trickle down his cheek, painfully thawing his frozen skin. He knew there was nothing he could do, once it started he couldn't stop it. He just hoped it would go unnoticed.

As what felt like a pair of frosty arms took hold of his torso, Karl covered his mouth with a stripy sweater paw, muffling his heavy, quick breaths and quiet cries. The wool caught his hot tears, becoming hastily saturated as more fell, smothering his cheeks with burning salt. The tighter he held onto his mouth, the more distant his sobs became, but he couldn't breathe, not through the thick layers of compressed wool, and when he did manage to inhale, a mix of acrid dyed fibers filled his heaving lungs. His chest tightened and he forced out a cough, gasping as his hand fell from his lips.

"Stop!" He cried, having lost all control of what his body did and said. Harshly, he brought his hands to his cold ears and clamped them firmly down, blocking out any noise he could hear, imaginary or real, it was silent, apart from his brain shouting for everything to stop.

"No stop touching me!" Sobbing, he choked on his own tears, slamming his pounding head on the desk so he couldn't see, even if he opened his eyes. And he didn't open them, keeping them securely shut as he cried and screamed. People touched him as they left, poking and hitting him, earning a shout and flinch in response.

Karl could only think about one thing: he wanted it to stop. He wanted Sapnap.

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Might edit this later lol

btw little easter egg for u, Dr Malcolm Crowe is one of the main characters in the actual sixth sense and he's who Sapnap is based off 🤩 (don't look him up u will spoil the story)

ALSO i found a trans dream dnf fanfic i wrote last year 💀 should i edit and post it as a treat for you guys, it would probably take a while to get out bc i wrote it on paper and would need to edit it and then finish it cuz its only the equivalent of 2 parts long 💀