𝙂𝙤𝙙 || 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙗𝙪𝙧

Chapter 1

Disclaimers for this chapter;
- Kidnapping
- Weapons (Knives)
- Alcohol
- Violence (Blood)

_

Ever since that election, Wilbur had lost his mind.

Every day, his thoughts grew darker; at first, maybe thinking of purposefully, and playfully, tripping someone, but those thoughts grew a lot worse.

Despite this, Techno and Tommy often left him unsupervised, leaving him to roam the forests that surrounded Manburg. Sometimes he wouldn't return for days, doing who-knows-what.

Today was one of those days; He had been gone from Pogtopia for about a week, planning, thinking.
Techno and Tommy had given up on looking for him the first time he did this, knowing he'd come back, eventually.

_

It's was a foggy night out, the moon shone dimly throughout the forest, a cold breeze present.

Currently, Schlatt was sitting against a tree, bottle of - what seemed to be - alcohol in hand.
He was a mess; hair frizzy, suit jacket slipping off his shoulders, tie undone, shirt crumpled, the first three buttons unbuttoned; overall, drunk. And upset.

While Schlatt was drinking the night away, his mind fuzzy and his sight blurry; footsteps approached.
He could vaguely hear the footsteps, trying to glance around to meet the sight of boots, or even sneakers, but he was too slow.

By the time he turned - and registered that the man standing in front of him was Wilbur - the blade of a knife pressed firmly against his throat, yet, not hard enough to break skin.

It took Schlatt a moment to process what was happening, before weakly trying to shove Wilbur away.
"What the fuck are you doing, Wilbur?"
He asked, throwing his empty bottle of alcohol to the side.

Wilbur simply grinned, pressing the knife further into his throat, drawing blood.
"Get the fuck away, Soot!"
Schlatt managed to shove him away, now stumbling to his feet.
He used the tree as support - was the world spinning, or was that just him?

The shorter looked back at Wilbur, who took a step closer.
Schlatt wiped the blood off his neck, onto the palm of his hand - the cut was small, it barely stung.
"Get the fuck away! You're- You're on Manburg territory AND you're assaulting the Pres-"
He stopped, glancing down at his hands, which were covered in blood.

Why was everything moving so fast? How were his hands covered in blood? The cut on his neck was so small, that couldn't have been the source.
The president glanced up at Wilbur, following his arms, only now feeling the sharp pain of a knife in his side.

He hissed loudly, Wilbur retreating to his previous spot in front of Schlatt, who sunk down against the tree.

Schlatt immediately took the knife out, whimpering and throwing it to the side.
The wound was numb, his body suddenly so much hotter than before; the pain had barely hit, his brain fuzzing with nothing but static. So much blood. Too much.

Between a panic of trying to cover his wound, and trying to keep an eye on Wilbur, two of the taller's fingers reached to raise his chin, facing the psychopath.

"This is what you get, Schlatt. You stole my happiness, and my goal is to steal everything you have left."
Wilbur grinned, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips.

Schlatt glared,
"Just fucking kill me already, Soot! get it over with!"
He spat out, turning his face away from the other.

Wilbur clearly didn't have enough patience to deal with him, forcibly grabbing his chin, and turning his face.
"Kill you? Of course not. I'm going to torture you, Schlatt. Make you wish you never participated in that election."

Schlatt's head pounded, the static getting louder and louder, now hearing nothing but ringing.
He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his side.
"Wilbur- Wilbur, I can't hear you-"
Schlatt mumbled, not aware of how quiet he was being.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, fingers moving to grab a handful of the shorter's chestnut hair.
Schlatt panicked, weakly trying to push Wilbur away, pleading for him not to do anything, not to hurt him - he was drunk, vulnerable, sensitive, so, so tired.

Wilbur flashed a smile - it was disgusting, it was so obviously forced and bitter.
"Don't worry, this won't hurt for much longer."
He grinned, hitting Schlatt's head against the tree, repeatedly.

Sadly, Wilbur was the last face he saw before losing consciousness , the ringing slowly fading into nothing but silence.

Wilbur stuffed the knife back into his trench coat pocket, before picking up Schlatt's unconscious body, and bringing him to a new location.
Somewhere he hoped no one would find him.