Founded Dead (Among Us story)

Chapter 1: Mail

I felt my feet racing agents the floor. I felt my helmet filled with sweat like it was bubbling to the top. I keep running until I get to a dead end... 'electrical.' I thought. I stopped, footsteps were growing closer, growing louder. I face the other way. 'I can't die like this, I can't die like this.' and I stop as I feel a cold damp hand touch the shoulder of my suit. "Well done, Clyde," said the voice behind me. "Wh-what did I do?" I asked, still panting. "Oh you know, keeping me under cover," said Black and slid in front of me. I gasped for a second as I stood there in front of Black, covered in blood. "Wh- what did you do?" I asked, stepping away from Black. "You did everything," said Black as he pulled out his knife covered in blood. Black whipped out a white napkin and used the napkin to wash off the blood. "Wh- what do you mean? I didn't do anything-'' I started. "My child...," Black said, cutting me off. "My child! You forgot it, didn't you?"

"For... forgot what?" I asked, shivering now. "You killed Yellow," said Black. I took in all of those words. My chest felt heavy, my heart sank, my body weight felt so heavy like it was smashed by an anvil. "I- I did what?" I asked again, like I didn't understand Black. "You're just shocked," Black said, like it wasn't a big deal about killing someone. "You passed out after it. That must be why you forgot," said Black leaning against an electrical box. "So... so what do you want from me?" I asked in a shaky voice. "Nothing, I will give you everything as long as you make sure that I am not sus," said Black and leaned towards me. "You deserve this," Black said and put the knife away and pulled out from his left pocket a gun. "Here," he said and handed the gun to me. "I-I can't take this," I said in my shaky voice. "Well you need to!" he said and shoved the gun into my chest.

"No," I said and forcefully shoved the gun into his chest. "Kid, this is your last warning!" said Black his voice growing louder. "NO!" I said as loud as I could. "Why do I need to take it?!" "So us Impostors can win," said Black. "Im...Impostors?" I asked sinking down into a sitting position. "Yes... Impostors-"

"GASP!" I said sitting up in bed. I was painting, gasping for air. "Good morning kiddo!" said my father, opening my bedroom door. "Rise and shine! I am leaving tomorrow and your mother and I need your help packing!" "Be right there," I said in a moaning voice. Hi I'm Clyde, Clyde Willson. As you can see my father is going away for his job and I need to help pack up. What's his job you ask? His job is to be on the crew, the crew of The Skild. What's the Skild you ask? It's a team of recruded people that form a team. My father has always been on the Crew. Now you might be asking if there's a difference between a crewmember? Well this job is a risky one, and it suits my dad! He is a risk taker and he has never been an Impostor. An Impostor's job is well... lets just say is a murder. And that is their job to kill and murder! Someday I want to work on the Skeild with my father! "Clyde! Great, you're awake!" said my mother down the stairs. "Morning mom," I said coming down our stairs. "Here have some toast. I'll be with your father in his office," she said and walked away into his office.

I finished my toast and followed my mother into my father's office. "Great! Clyde I need you to sort out your father's books," said my mom. "And you," she said pointing to my father as he picked up a box. "Go put that box outside and get the mail." As my father left the office my mom sat down next to me. "So, Clyde are we going to do a big surprise party this year when Dad comes home?" "I guess," I said shrugging. "What do you mean by 'I guess'?" "I mean we should do something different, something big, something-" "Hey ya Clyde? I don't know if you are writing letters but you got a peace of mail," called Dad from the Kitchen. "What?" me and mom asked standing up and coming into the Kitchen with Dad.

"Here," said dad and he passed me the mail. I hesitated for a second, the thought of someone handing me something reminded me of my dream last night. I took it and opened it. As I read it my mother and father waited patently. "So? What is it kiddo?" asked my father. "I-I...," I said stumbling over my words. "Well?" he asked. "I got the job."