Red or Blue (i love you) | The Stanley Parable

Acceptance

The Narrator felt sick, his stomach flipping as he stared at the visage in front of him. Warm, vibrant liquid spreading along the cold brick floor, dripping from the wound on Stanley's left leg. It wasn't like anything he'd ever seen. They knew humans could get injured, he'd seen Stanley get splinters from the boxes in the warehouse building for God's sake! But this... this was nothing like that. This was everything and more, something he'd wished he'd never seen. He wished he could just remove this moment from his mind, just reset the game and forget that this ever happened. They had tried earlier, when Stanley was first climbing the stairs, but it hadn't worked. They had nearly screamed when that happened, already dreading what might have come after, but he never would have expected this.

They'd never considered that Stanley would actually jump...

It was scary, seeing his body descend from the ledge, not being able to do anything as they helplessly watched Stanley's body impact with the floor and crumple as the bones and muscles were slammed against.

He needed to stop thinking about it... the longer he dwelled the more he felt like he was going to throw up, and despite how much they wanted to, they really needed to check up on Stanley.

"Oh... thank god. You lived." He said, disturbed and relieved but trying to act normal. They needed to be level-headed so they could convince Stanley to return to the mesh of dancing lights! If they panicked or sounded unsure, Stanley wouldn't listen to him! "You had me worried there for a moment." I was so scared, he shivered, shoulders tense as the sound of Stanley's body hitting the floor rattled through their skull, please just go back to the other room and we can forget this even happened! Please!

'No... I've come this far, I have... to see it through'

"No, Stanley... you don't have to do this, okay? We can... We can just go back to the light room, we need to stop." He couldn't do anything but watch as Stanley dragged his body up the stairs once more, skin and bone jutting as his left leg was bent despite it needing to be kept still. "Please just stop! We don't need to do this, we can just go back and think about nothing but good memories, please Stanley!" Stop making me beg, you know I hate having to ask for things. You're really forcing me here Stanley, but I'll do it if it means you'll listen to me.

Mustering up enough energy to remove his hands from the railing, he raised his hands to respond to the Narrator. Before he could, he felt himself leaning to the side and had to catch himself from the railing to stop himself from falling back down the stairs he'd just climbed. Breathing heavily from the movement, Stanley glanced back behind him nervously, before trying again, this time levelling his centre of gravity.

'I-' His fingers refused to cooperate from the overexertion of his limbs. Growling quietly to himself, he forced his fingers to go through the motions despite how much they didn't want to. 'I'm sorry. I know you don't want to do this.. but... there's no other way. I'm sorry'

"Stanley..." They exhaled, the tight feeling returning as they looked at the others face - furrowed brows, heaving chest as breaths left Stanley in deep pants, present but clouded gaze. Pulling at his hair, Narrator tried once more to initiate a reset, but...

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

No sound, no movement, no reset.

Nothing.

He was panicking now, calloused hands gripping tightly at his hair, fingernails digging slightly into their scalp as they tried to calm down. All they could hear now was their own laboured breathing, their ribcage feeling like it's being ripped out from his very body. It felt like nothing but yet also everything, his surroundings distant as all he could do was give in. Give in to the panic. Give in to the anxiety coiling around his tense and weary body as the event was forever etched into his brain, an image of pain and gore. His arms felt heavy, and his chest felt like it was being stepped on, as if he was nothing yet everything as it felt like their very being was being crushed beneath the weight. Beneath everything and anything, all at once.

It was only a few minutes, that felt like forever, when they finally managed to get a grip on reality again, their chest still hammering, but at least his breathing had settled. Swallowing his feelings and brushing his hair back into place like nothing happened, he stared meaningfully at Stanley.

"Stanley... go back... there's nothing good that can come from this." His own voice sounded foreign to him - the tone flat, but the cracking of the words betrayed how he really felt, vulnerability forcing its way out of their throat despite how much they tried to reign it in.

'Can't' was all the response he got from the very source of his despair.

"Stanley..."

'If ... don't want me to, fine, just ... away. No matter, what you say, I'm... going to get through to .t.. end.' The man's hands had begun to shake slightly as he signed, jumbling up the words he was conveying as the Narrator watched with barely concealed concern. They couldn't make all the words out, but they understood most of what Stanley was saying.

They wanted to jump through and grab the man and force him away from the intimidating metal structure, but he couldn't. He hated this. They wished they hadn't brought Stanley here... All they'd wanted was a chance, but he didn't want this... he didn't want to see Stanley hurt. His eyes stung and the lump in his throat came back. Blinking his eyes rapidly to dispel the wetness, he cleared his throat, the sound shaky as they tried to get their bearings back.

Fine, if that's what Stanley wanted, he'd let him. Serves him right for not listening to him when he had the chance.

It hurts me to watch you hurting... please be quick, Stanley, I don't want to watch anymore. I want it to stop.

Please...

The next events were a haze of pain and unending panic, the act of climbing and climbing taking a toll on Stanley's body as he - at one point - had to resort to basically crawling up the stairs. Blood trailed down the metal, staining the previously clean structure a murky red, blood mixing with dust. Huffing, Stanley took stock of his injuries as he sat at the top, legs hanging over the edge while he looked down, having come familiar with the ground waiting below. All trepidation about falling and high places had long since faded, having become used to the feeling of air rippling through his clothes and hair, of the whistling as he descended to the floor begging for him. It was nothing he wasn't used to.

His leg was still bleeding. It had stopped sometime earlier, but the flow had started again after he had jumped the second time. Bone glistened through the skin, tears and scrapes covering the now useless limb. That wasn't it though. His second jump had added a few more additions - his right arm was emitting a pulsing ache, no doubt blood rising to the top layer of his skin as it bruised over, and three of his toes on his right foot had gone numb immediately after a minor shock of electricity from within. All in all, he hurt all over, but... he couldn't bring himself to feel it, yes he felt the bruises and the broken bones, but all he could do was keep going, the pain was just a setback in his end goal.

Miraculously, none of his fingers had been affected.

The Narrator had since stopped talking, their repetition of "No!", "Go back," and their watery begging for Stanley to return to the room before long forgotten, only the occasional harsh breath sucked in through teeth heard throughout the room. He was glad. While their voice was comforting, the Narrator's words felt like a stab to the heart every time he heard them, desperation and vulnerability clawing and flowing through the man's words. He didn't like hearing the Narrator hurt. Yeah, he knew that he still was hurting; the tense atmosphere, the quiet whimpers echoing around him when he collided with the ground... it was more than enough, but he was relieved that the Narrator wasn't trying to talk to him anymore. Guilt still swept over him, but he ignored it.

Sucking in one final, hesitant breath, Stanley looked down to the blood-spattered asphalt below him for the last time, his eyes blurring as salty tears burned. Closing his eyes, he felt the tears cascading down his caked face, the droplets dripping from his chin and falling to the depths below. Breathing in deeply, he prepared himself, pushing himself up on uneven feet as his left leg bent at a weird angle to accommodate for his balance.

Raising his arms out beside him, he let go.

And he knew no more.