Chapter Text
Tommy came to almost instantly in his perspective. Before his eyes even opened, he already felt he was in a familiar place; the smell, warmth and cosiness in the air was enticing. His eyes adjusted properly to the low light level, trading that the time was midnight from a neon alarm clock on the table next to him. The bed he was in was very comfortable and loving. Tommy realised he was improperly clothed, if at all. It didn’t unsettle him, just likely he was in hospital after plunging himself with a knife. What was worse was that he survived the embarrassment of having a mental breakdown in front of nearly 50 people. Tommy felt down his body to see how the doctors patch him up, but weirdly, felt nothing. No pain, nor any stitching. He shivered in realization that he was out for so long that this wound had healed fully. Tommy needed to know more. He didn’t want to leave the warmth he found himself in but managed to get himself standing up. Aside from the alarm clock, there was no slither of light in the entire room. The air was cold and uninviting, bringing goosebumps along his naked body. Tommy blindly felt forward for a wall of any kind, hoping to find the light switch. He did soon bump into a wall, feeling the door frame also. It was likely a polished wood. In luck, the light switch was only two steps away from where Tommy ended up.
Flicking it on, it took a moment for Tommy’s eyes to adjust to the bright light that had now filled the room. It took only a few seconds to realise that he was not in the hospital. Right in front of his eyes, pinned to the door, was a calendar that read November 2020. It was strange to remember that calendars looked like that back in those days. If only Tommy had spent enough time considering it, he would have understood why it was all wrong. Turning around, he looked at a corkboard hanging on some hooks, photos of Wilbur with his friends and family. Tommy smiled seeing a selfie of him and Wilbur from the first time they met up. It was nice to know, that despite Wilbur’s friends and family casting Tommy aside, that he was still important in his eyes. The soft beige carpet under Tommy’s feet was understood, as well as the dots of blood within a corner of the room. There were empty bottles of alcohol, dirty clothes and rubbish littered on the floor also. It was just like the room he stayed in during that time he had a sleepover in Wilbur’s home in 2020. Only questions arose.
“You can sleep here; I’ll be on the sofa downstairs if you need anything.”
“But Wilby, you deserve your own bed.” Wilbur’s cheeks reddened slightly in Tommy’s memory
“You’re my guest and I’m looking after you. I refuse to force you on the couch.”
“Well since we can’t agree on this, let’s both take the bed.”
With Wilbur’s agreement, Tommy slept very well every night of that week.
Tommy wanted to pry more but felt far too aware of his own nudity to continue feeling comfortable. He went over to Wilbur’s wardrobe, opening each drawer to find something to wear, settling on a pair of boxers. They were of nice material that cause a growing excitement in Tommy. This was the closest he had been to Wilbur in over a decade. He went to go and look at himself in a large mirror on the wall. His hair messy with terrible eyebags. It looked like he had just crawled out of hell. Questions came back to his mind once again. The mess in the house had meant that they decided to not sell it in the end, whether it be for memory purposes or the difficulty of renovating a home so chronically neglected. Tommy had wondered whether he had hallucinated his whole ordeal – unable to remember if he took his medication on the morning of Wilbur’s funeral – whether he was brought to the house to learn a lesson. He would figure it out once he got his share of Wilbur.
Despite Wilbur being gone forever, it was nice being back here and confronted with everything he had been denied for years. He was banned from visiting Wilbur’s home because everyone was too scared that he would not make it. But there was nothing much to Wilbur’s room, minus the concerning clutter. Just sheets of handwritten music that he was clearly doing up in his own time as well as many photographs. Of Tommy. It was either a prank or everyone took their respective pictures home with them to keep as memorabilia. Tears poured from Tommy’s eyes. He had been so horrible to everyone, so selfish. All they were trying to do was protect him from himself. It became apparent that he needed to apologize to everyone, and really clean up his act. Tommy allowed himself to lie on the floor, exhaustion rattling his bones. It was clear that once Tommy got back to his normal life, much work needed to be done to regain his stamina. He didn’t bother moving the clutter from off the floor and was in a pile of dirty clothes. It was at this point, head on the carpet, that Tommy heard the sound of a TV from below the floor. At least he wasn’t alone.
After finding the strength to get up, he opened the door gently and stepped past. The rest of the house was also warm and homely, truly feeling like Wilbur’s place in 2020. It made Tommy want to clean out the house himself and live there forever. He could prove to Phil and Kristen that he would be okay by himself. The noise of the TV grew exponentially louder with each step Tommy took towards the stairs. He wanted to see what the others were doing at Wilbur’s uncleaned house, so very careful to not cause the steps to creak as he made his way down. The TV was certainly on, a random movie playing. However, there was only a single figure sitting on the couch. His back was turned, meaning Tommy could only see brown unkempt hair.
It looked very much like Wilbur.
Tommy froze, heart shaking. Wilbur was here with him. He wasn’t actually dead. Did they hide this from him or was it a sick coincidence? It was not the reunification he wanted. Tommy looked like shit and his bigger frame was all on show with his limited clothing. He imagined it to be a beautiful sunny moment where they would fall into each other’s arms, Wilbur crying out an apology for disappearing for so long, and Tommy instantly forgiving him. But Tommy needed answers, not doubting thoughts.
“Wilby? Is that you?” He called out, hardly able to take a deep breath at this discovery. Tommy stepped closer to the man on the couch, the whole room falling static. The noise on the TV felt less relevant with each moment. This was Wilbur after all, and it could be the start of a beautiful romance. The bump in the road that brought them closer together, the story they would tell their future children while living in a small cottage. The figure on the couch turned around in an instant motion when Tommy was at arm’s reach away. It was hard to tell if it was really Wilbur. He had little skin on his face with missing eyes. There was still a handsomeness from the shape of the exposed jawbone and pointy nose that stuck out. Hair was unaffected, skin floating around the hairline. His neck looked horrifyingly shattered underneath twisted skin.
Tommy didn’t have the soul to scream before his vision darkened in disgust. His knees buckled and the second he hit the floor; reality was no more.
It only felt like a moment later, reality reverting back, when Tommy awoke once again, back in Wilbur’s bed. He believed it was just a nightmare of the funeral mixed with pleasant memories of Wilbur. It was known in his mind that keeping that dream a secret would be imperative to his reputation. Could he ever recover socially from just stabbing himself in front of 50 people? It saddened him to know that the reality he had just learned, where no suicide attempt had taken place and he had seen ‘Wilbur’ in the flesh, was no longer there. However, he quickly realised that there was a cold grip around his arms and a frozen body pressed up against him. He tried to pull out of this disturbing grip to figure out the new nightmare he was time. But he only stirred the thing awake.
It was the same Wilbur that Tommy has seen in the living room, the insides of his eye sockets clearer than before. The darkness that blanketed the room mellowed out in the presence of the beast beside him. Wilbur moved his arms down to Tommy’s waist, pressing their bodies together so they were skin to skin everywhere. Their hard cocks rubbed together, and Tommy lost his mind for a few seconds. Wilbur gave him a grin showing his pretty white teeth. But this wasn’t Wilbur. Tommy couldn’t afford to be attached to this dead, nightmare version of his dead friend. He had to throw away this temporary ecstasy, come to his senses and escape. Squirming out of his grip, Tommy tried to run but Wilbur appeared in front of him, arm raised high in the air. Tommy was knocked out cold before he could move out of the way.
After waking up again, Tommy was thankful that there was no Wilbur in the bed beside him, only a stream of light glowing the room from the hallway. Tommy was rather fearful as to what was going on. This nightmare didn’t seem to end as quickly as he hoped. He wondered if, in treatment of his stab wound, if they pumped him with enough drugs to induce these strange dreams. It would pass eventually, however much a blow to Tommy’s happiness. Clearly, this Wilbur just wanted Tommy near, which he was half happy to take part in, if it meant it would stop looping nightmares and turn into happy dreams. Tommy thought of a way to disrupt the cycle. Tommy shivered at the feeling of cold air on his back. The source was coming from a cracked window behind him. The curtains were slightly open, enough for Tommy to look out into the street. There was grass and dirt down below, the pouring rain had softened it up to make a good enough cushion. Tommy could just jump down and escape before Wilbur came back to put him back to sleep again. With adrenaline raised at the realization of the dangerous situation, he climb onto the bed he once sat on, limbs shaking, and reached for the window handle to pull it out further. He kept looking and listening out for Wilbur.
Once the window was pushed out to the point Tommy could squeeze through, he climbed to the window frame and stepping over to place his feet on the small platform outside. He struggled to stay on, to not slip and the rain continued to pour heavily from the sky. The risk of his feet sliding off, to cause an unplanned fall, was less concerning than the sound of the door opening. Tommy preferred to break his neck than confront a disapproved Wilbur made up in his mind. He quickly turned around, gripping the window as hard as he could. The shadow of a monster looked back at him. It was in this moment that he realised it was now or never; Tommy didn’t let himself think of the potential injuries before he jumped, landing on soft mud and grass beneath. His stomach felt like it was in his throat after the long fall. The lack of clothing on his body made the cold seep deeper. His legs ached and his ankles were pained, but not enough to keep him from standing and readying himself to run. Tommy dared to look back first, seeing Wilbur’s figure clear in the window. His teeth were baring, and hands gripped to the frame hard. Tommy could only stare, so very distracted by Wilbur’s lack of clothes also. He was only naked too, everyone bodily feature on show for Tommy to gawk at. Wilbur was still as attractive as Tommy remembered from his drunken video calls, despite the patching skin and weeping flesh on show.
“Don’t you dare run away from me!”
Tommy, snapping out of the moment, dared to do just that. He bolted down the road to reach the front of the house, hoping to make his way down to a corner shop he remembered Wilbur taking him to. If these were different circumstance, if Tommy wasn’t so out of his mind with shock and fear, he would be on his knees for Wilbur. Either begging for some answers, or to even be truly reunited. Even to take care of Wilbur’s hard cock that was springing up while in the window. The heavy steps behind him reminded Tommy that this was not truly Wilbur, and it was hard to accept that. Many houses came into and left Tommy’s vision as he new slowed down, the fear of punishment swirling in his mind. No matter how fast he thought he went, Wilbur never lagged further. Always watching. Always knowing. After many minutes of this painful running, bare feet aching from the rough surface of the ground, the small store came into Tommy’s vision. It was a place guaranteed to have life in there at this time of night, a 24 hour store. However, when he pushed his way through the doors, there was no staff or customers around. The dim lighting of the area created and aura of uneasiness. Tommy could have noticed this, if he wanted to. He collapsed on the floor.
In his new reality, Tommy awoke in a very different place to before. He was sat in a chair with his leg tied down to the base. A walkie talkie was propped up on the desk inches in front of him. The room was illuminated softly by the glow of screens that streamed live footage picked up by security camera around the store. They did not pick up a single moving figure in store, only the flickering of lights or pitch black. Tommy picked up the device, just to see what would happen.
“Hey friend.” It sounded like Wilbur; a calmer tone compared to his yelling during the chase.
“Do you want to play a game?” Tommy could hardly breathe let alone answer, he tried anyway.
“No.”
“I said, do you want to play a game?” Harsher.
Tommy thought for a spare moment, he could get into trouble if he said no.
“Yes”
“Show me where you are then”
Tommy saw he had control over some of the store lights from a small panel to the right of the screens. He quickly flicked several of them on and off.
“So, be honest with me, are you tied down in there?”
He gulped, lying might buy him time, or totally doom him.
“Yes.”
“That’s… good…” The breathy tone got Tommy’s body excited.
“Can you see me?”
No, but he could hear him. Loud footsteps rung in his ears but sounded far. They were getting closer and closer. Tommy tried to move, crawling on the floor and dragging the chair behind to get away. That was the game after all. Moving towards the door, the steps continued to get louder. All until the door Tommy tried to get out of swung open. A tall man with Wilbur’s build was in the door way. An axe was in his hand, and he balanced it on the cold hard floor. Tommy stared at his erect cock.
“Let me take care of your leg.” He brought the axe up far above his head. It was almost touching the ceiling. Tommy tried to scream and get away, but simply could do no more with his worn body.
“God, I love you.” Was the last thing the young man heard before pain and darkness yet again.