(AN: The music at the top is highly recommended for helping set the mood and enhancing the reading experience! I listened to each song at the top while writing each chapter! Highly recommend! I also recommend reading at night-ish! The music is different for each chapter, so enjoy! Sometimes the same songs appear, sorta like a character's theme. I found the music REALLY helps, so I highly recommend it!

TW: Get's violent and disturbing! Happy Halloween!)

Third Person POV

A small doll of a blue man wearing a cloak and a white top hat is gently grabbed with two thin, metal hands.

Slowly, they take apart the stitching, carefully pulling the doll's cotton out.

They pluck the two yellow gem eyes out and set them aside.

Once the doll is disassembled, they grab another doll. This one is of a beautiful girl with white hair.

They slowly undo the thread keeping the hair attached to her head and pull it out, one by one.

They undo the stings holding her together as well and pluck out the yellow eyes like before.

Once both dolls are finally disassembled, the hands toss aside the remains of the girl doll and turn to the remaining materials of the blue one. They cut some fabric, then use the cotton and stitching to make a new one.

Some green fabric is cast aside in a pile labeled "Not likely to fall for it." This fabric is completely ignored. There's no point in wasting time on it.

Yet.

The new doll they make is a jester, decorated with a purple and yellow poncho and hat. Its skin is grey, but you can't see it unless you remove the doll's black and white mask. Lastly, the metal hands place two yellow eyes onto the doll. Then, they send it away.

- A Few Weeks Earlier -

2nd Person POV

You wake in a land of darkness. Your head hurts and your ears ring. It's an unpleasant feeling, to say the least. You don't even have to open your eyes to feel unsettled by the unfamiliar chill.

The last thing you remember... what's the last thing you remember?

Your eyes remain shut, but the images pass over your mind. A large, horrible creation. A fusion of three things, a heart of chaos and destruction, an unsuspecting man in green, and you.

There are explosions.

You remember the feeling. The feeling of the fusion being split apart. Of your life being ripped and torn away from your body as the fire consumed you, blasting you apart into nothingness. You shiver at the memory and feel sick. You want to erase it from your mind. The sight of watching everything you worked so hard for burning away. The memories of feeling the flames rip through you. That panic you had felt when you realized there was no escape.

No escape.

That panic is one of the things that had hurt most. The panic you felt as the flames got closer and closer, before ripping through your chest. That moment right before the sweet release of death finally took you, that moment of agony and pain... it was impossible to forget.

And now, where are you?

You know where you are. You don't even have to open your eyes to know where you are.

But you don't want to be here. You don't want to open your eyes and confirm what you already know is true.

But, you do. You open your eyes, and your worst fears are in fact, confirmed. You look around yourself and see that you are alone, and you are in the land of the dead. The place for those who've had the pleasure of their games ending.

You had failed. All your work, all your plans, it was all in vain. Nothing you ever did in life mattered. It was over now. You're over. You're history! Your perfect world, non-existent.

You shake your head, and begin to shiver, standing up and stumbling backward, only to find there are burns all over your body.

They hurt. Really bad. They're surely from the explosion which ended your game. Another painful reminder of what happened. You grasp at your stomach, only to wince upon actually seeing what's left of your arm.

A horrible third-degree burn covers it, and your poncho is ripped, leaving it exposed. The burn is so bad, blood still trickles from it, and you can see a bone. It's disgusting. It's horrible. It hurts.

Your breathing quickens and you look away, horrified. You don't even want to see what your face looks like. You close your eyes and quickly bring your bleeding arm up to it. You let out a thankful sigh of relief finding that your mask is still on. You feel that there are fracture lines on it, but it's not broken, so you're grateful.

You take a moment to catch your breath. The fact that you're still breathing seems strange to you since you're dead. You take a minute to hold your breath, and to your horror, you don't start to suffocate. You don't even need to breathe?!

You begin breathing again anyway because it makes you feel more alive. You want to breathe. You want to live. You want to go back. You don't want to be here.

You can hear the distant chatter of other sinners from behind you and immediately duck down behind a bush as they pass. You see two normal-looking people, one with a cut across their throat. You shutter and bring your hand to your own throat, envisioning how that person must have died. You can even hear the cool steel knife cutting across it with a swift slice. You shiver, then turn your attention to the other person.

They wear a lovely rope around their neck, purple and blue bruises decorating it. You don't want to think about their story. But seeing as those two are clearly friends, you make them a story regardless.

You think one of them was murdered, with a knife to his throat. The other couldn't handle his loss, so she strung herself up to join him down here. Or perhaps it was vice-versa. One of them was killed with a rope around her neck, and the other slit his throat to be with her.

You don't like the idea. Throwing away your life to be with someone. The chance to be something worthwhile, the chance to do something about the world, simply tossed away like the last week's news.

But, you can't tell for sure what happened. This is just the story you've assigned these two random people to take your mind off your own story. Because their story is of a victory. They ended up together. Your story is a failure. You failed.

You never handled failure very well.

You feel more panic arise as more people come strolling along. You hide even more so, not wanting to be seen by others. You don't want them knowing that you died. You don't want them knowing that you failed. You can barely handle seeing yourself as a failure. But others seeing you for what you are??

The burns all over you hurt. The places where your skin has split apart burn, making tears come to the corners of your eyes. You don't know if you've ever felt physical pain like this.

"Oh, excuse me," Come's a girl's voice from behind you. You immediately tense up, then slowly turn around yourself to see a lovely blonde girl, looking to be in her late teens, giggling and brushing her hair behind her ear.

"I didn't see you there."

You shiver upon seeing her. She's just a random girl, but her skin is frozen. Her lips are a shade of blue, and she's shivering. You look at her fingers and see frostbite.

"Who are you? Those burns look nasty. Is that how you died?" She asks, kindly holding out a hand.

You stake your head, unable to form words, and scoot back, stumbling up to your feet so you can sprint away from her. You start running through the crowd of people. Where are you running? You haven't the slightest idea. Just away.

You feel more eyes on you, as people start reaching out. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Who are you?" 

"Look at his burns!" 

"That must have been a gruesome death." 

"What do you think happened?"

More and more dead souls reach out, each with their own scars. You close your eyes and push through them, doing your best not to cry. You want to go home. You want to be back in Castle Bleck. You want to make fun of Mimi, you want to ignore Nastasia's schedules, you want to pretend to be one of Count Bleck's most loyal minions. You want it all back. Even if you hated it, it's preferable to this.

People keep reaching for you as you run. You feel their cold fingers brush your shoulder and can't help but panic. These are dead people. You're a dead person. You're stuck here.

You continue running when you see a small cave. You let out a small sigh of relief, then sprint inside. Before anyone can follow, you look at the large boulder sitting just inside then quickly muster all your strength to roll it into the entrance, blocking anyone else from getting in.

You let out a sigh of relief once the entrance is blocked, and sink to the floor in the pitch darkness.

Then, you cry. You really cry. You've failed, and now you're stuck here. You'll never see that perfect world you worked so hard for. Your life was wasted. It amounted to nothing.

You're just a sad, scared failure.

You've always feared death more than anything. So how could you have been so careless with your life? You could have won. You SHOULD have won. Perhaps if you were smarter. Perhaps you could have come up with a better plan.

You don't know. All you know is that you won't be leaving this cave any time soon. You're not ready to face the world as a failure. You're not ready to be seen as what you are.