Sole Survivor (Evil Morty x Reader) HIATUS

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{{Welcome Rick and Morty fans! There are 2 things I need to say to you. #1 is that updates will be short like this probably, unless circumstances allow. #2 is that updates are not scheduled— they're random. This fanfic is just something fun for me to write, so the writing isn't my usual long, detailed style. Thanks for reading & comment and vote if you want more!}}

The static sound of a TV filled an almost barren room, it's noise bouncing off the walls and ceiling. The walls were empty and bland, painted in a dull gray tone. There were no photos. No paintings. Just the emptiness of the wall to stare at.

The light always seemed to threaten to give out, flickering every once in a while as it swayed back and forth. Without a doubt, the bulb would need to be changed soon.

The tile floor was merely existed to remind the occupant of how cold it felt. Once skin contact was established, a chill followed close in pursuit.

That was the very reason (Y/N) dreaded getting out of bed. She could practically feel the cold already creeping up her feet. She nestled into her blanket deeper, even if it was rather shabby and worn down.

The static noise seemed to get louder though as she laid there, emotionless and empty. She tried to think of anything else, but the noise was irritating enough. Her eye twitched in annoyance, a frown tugging at her lips.

It wasn't before long that she had risen from her slumber, goosebumps crawling across her skin as the cold finally claimed her. She shivered, still groggy somewhat as she grabbed the remote. She began flipping through the channels, waiting to see something other than the static screen.

It was no surprise that a different color scheme never made it to the screen. It still buzzed, black and white covering the entire screen. It appeared that the signal wasn't working again.

(Y/N) would have normally been disappointed, but this place had changed her. She didn't hesitate to watch as the screen turned black, the noise finally fine. Despite that though, she thought she could still hear it faintly ring in her ears still. She numbly set the remote down, not feeling anything— not even disappointment.

She merely walked over to the door, looking around it for a silver tray. When her eyes never found it, she sighed quietly. Her mind couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't brought her food out to her. It was always there every morning, brought to her before she ever woke up. Even the clothes that they always had set out for her was amiss.

She shook it off, deciding that they had probably left her to rot. It wasn't surprising, considering who they were after all. Instead, she walked over to the only thing that did work in that forsaken room— the piano. She let her fingers glide over the white and black keys, her eyes apathetic.

And so she began playing a melodramatic tune.

~~~~~

"M-Mr. President, security is wanting to know what you would like to do with the prisoners. Do we let them go-*burp* or dispose of them?" A Rick asked, wearing a black suit and a black tie to accommodate. His black shades hid his eyes, trying to remain serious.

In front of the man, sitting at a rather large wooden desk, was none other than the President of the Citadel— a Morty.

"Tell them not to worry— I'll be reviewing every one of them myself." Morty remarked, his voice oddly chilling. There was something about this particular Morty that didn't quite sit well with the guard—

To make things worse, there's a rumor spreading around that the president had high official Ricks killed off. He didn't dare question him though, despite thinking he was intellectually smarter. He could only hope that the new president would establish order in the Citadel.