A Message to Scott Cawthon: Reimagined

Chapter Nineteen

When he woke up, nothing looked familiar to him. He knew he was standing on a floor as he wasn't falling, but apart from that there was no indication to the direction he stood in or where he was. The room he stood in was glowing white in all corners so no shadows could actually form to give a sense of tone or definition. Except for one black doorway. It was so black that it seemed to swallow the light whole.

He looked around, panicked by what he was seeing but apart from himself and that door, there was nothing of interest to see. Until he looked back to the doorway and saw him. Tears welled in his eyes and his throat constricted with sobs. "Baz!" he called out weakly.

But Baz didn't have the same joy to see his friend. In fact, he looked horrified. Disgusted even. Why... how was he here!? He shouldn't be here! He gazed towards his younger friend, fearing what fate had befell him if he had somehow got into this place. It wasn't his time to go, Baz knew that. He knew what had to be done.

Baz looked like he had never been injured. There was no swelling or bruising or blood. It was just his normal self. A smile beamed across the younger man's face and he rushed forward to his older friend, tears of joy rolling down his face. He knew he would be back! He knew he would wake up again!

As he approached, Baz shook his head in warning and stepped back with a hand raised in a "stop" motion. The other man became confused.

"Baz, it's me! I knew you'd be back! I knew you weren't gone!" he lied, as his tears fell harder. Baz looked on the verge of tears himself but forced a small smile onto his face. He shook his head again and lowered his hand. The younger man took this as an invitation to step closer.

The pink-haired man gave a silent sigh and took one more step backwards, clenching his hands into fists. But his younger friend didn't stop; he extended his arms as he tried to hug his friend. So, Baz did what he had to do.

The strike to the younger man's side sent him gasping for air and tumbling to the ground. He cried out in pain and betrayal, looking up to his older friend for help. But Baz stood over him, his faced wracked with guilt. But he knew what had to be done. He raised both fists above his head and pounded them down against his younger friend's chest in one crushing motion

The room flickered to black for a moment, and then re-emerged in its white glow. The younger man cried out again, trying to explain to Baz how he didn't want to hurt him, how he didn't want him to leave again. It made the pink-haired man cry, but he knew what had to be done. Before he did though, he leaned down over his younger friend and placed a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. Where he touched, it turned warm. He smiled kindly at his younger friend. Although the pink-haired man's lips never moved, five words could be heard in his voice.

The younger man's eyes widened. After what he did... after what had happened to his best friend... how was he supposed to do that? It didn't make sense.

Baz winked with a soft grin and got back up, bringing his hands above his head one more time, knowing that once he did this, he would never get to see his younger friend for a very, very long time. At least not in person. Once again, he sighed silently and looked into the eyes of the man beneath him.

"See you in the next video!" he mouthed to him, before his fists came thundering through the air, directly onto his younger friend's chest...

Ryan woke with a start, pain jolting through his body and he screamed. Paramedics rushed around him, taking off the defibrillator packs that had been stuck to his chest in different places. The air tasted of the metallic buzz of electricity. He groaned as his chest spasmed in agony. Two of the paramedics were lifting him onto a stretcher. "Sir, can you hear me? What's your name? Do you know where you are?"