Chapter Text
The birds chirped outside George’s window, letting him know that the sun had risen on the new day. He headed downstairs, he grabbed his satchel which only ever contained the same few things: a journal, a few coins to spend at in town and whatever smooth rock he had forgotten to take out from a walk down by the creek. He didn’t always need to actually go buy anything from the market but most everyone he knew seemed to hang around there during the day
”you’re up early, headed into town square?” His father asked as the bright lad headed out the door
“yep!” George opened the front gate which was almost completely covered in vines
“Dont go into the forest” his dad warned “people’v been disappearing out there”
”Don’t worry about me!” He smiled but never specified if he would actually take his father’s advice and stay out of the woods
The market was as busy as it’s always been, people shoving to get to the best out of the stands, livestock and other animals being lead around the market looking for a buyer. The best way to get around these sort of crowds was to get onto the surrounding buildings roofs the only issue with that path is that you’re very likely to get yelled at and have stuff thrown at you, since the street kids use that way a lot people associate it with thieves. Although George didn’t mind getting a few things thrown at him if it meant he didn’t have to shove through all of these people
He climbed onto a maroon tiled roof where he could easily just walk onto the tops of the other buildings no problem or so he thought. In reality two street kids were already taking this shortcut which drew in the attention of the townsfolk below.
These two boys were notorious thieves and would nab anything they could get their hands on, how they’ve never been caught is a mystery to many but George suspects that some of the market goers have a soft spot for these thieving pricks after all they are just kids. But none of that was gonna change the fact that people were now seeing the three of them above the market and people weren’t to happy about that
”Tubbo!” Yelled the taller one of the boys “Scram!” And with that the two thieves made their escape running and jumping onto hard to reach areas of the town rooftops dropping apples and other less edible trinkets as they rushed away
All this commotion let George discreetly get across town square, below him were two friends of his friends who stood talking about something, completely unaware of were their friend was. He dropped down next to the two landing in a hay bale to break his fall
Quackity jumped back in shock “What the hell George!”
”Market was too busy, had to take the thieving route” he explained shaking out the stray bits of hay that had stuck in his hair
”You’re gonna fall through the roof tiles one of these days” Karl picked up the produce he had dropped out of shock “you’re lucky this stuff wasn’t soft fruit”
”yeah I’m not a big fan of the squishy stuff” the Brit snatched an apple from his pals hands and bit into it
”Buy your own fruit George!” Karl complained about being stolen from “just because you took the street kids path doesn’t mean ya gotta start acting like one”
“Chill out it’s one apple, plus I didn’t eat this morning”
His friends weren’t listening to him as he said that for a man with a warm smile approached as he carried a few large pieces of firewood “Here ya go!” The man said handing the logs over to Karl
”Thanks Sapnap!” He returned the smile and waved as the man walked away
”You know him?” George asked not recognizing the wood chopper
“yeah he brings us firewood every week” Quackity explained “you’re not usually early enough to catch him”
”He just gives you it?” The Brit sounded shocked “for free??”
”yep!” His friends reply in unison, this whole exchange still didn’t make sense to him, why would he just give them free wood? Seemed sketchy but they had bigger fish to fry that day or at least that’s what he had thought
“Alright boys! To the woods!” He pointed dramatically to the forest entrance in the distance
“No way! People have just been vanishing out there, no thank you” Karl wasn’t all too keen on getting bumped off by some mysterious forest killer anytime soon
“listen I’m all for dangerous fun stuff but this just does not seem worth dying over” Quackity was not usually the reasonable one so this came as a shock
”Oh come on! Where’s your sense of adventure?!”
”What if you died George? What about Marianne?” Karl put his hand on his reckless companions shoulder “do you really wanna die before getting hitched?”
oh right, Marianne.
He had almost forgotten about getting betrothed to that woman. In all honesty he had no interest in marrying her, the two haven’t even met; it was arranged by their families. It wasn’t love and it wasn’t happiness. George looked down at his hand, he wanted to rip off the brass betrothal ring and throw it in the sea but he couldn’t.
“It’s arranged Karl.” He looked up at his friends “I couldn’t care less about what she feels.” He didn’t wait for their responses he just headed out into the woods without looking back
...
The forest was dead silent; the only noises were the crunching of the twigs below his feet as he stepped and wind blowing through the branches of the oak trees that were a staple of this place. It seemed even the even the songbirds had silenced their musical chirps. Any other day George would’ve loved the tranquility this place had to offer but today the silence left him nothing to pay attention to but his own thoughts
Stupid Marianne. Stupid wedding. He threw a rock into the creek trying to get out his frustration, he bent down and reached for another one but he felt uneasy. Like if someone was watching him..
He turned around to see if anyone was there; nothing but trees and bushes.
”Who’s there? Reveal yourself!” George was starting to worry that his friends concern was valid, what if there was someone out here ready to kill him?
He looked up to see out of the shadows of the leaves a mysterious figure in a dark green cloak and white mask with a black smile painted onto it.
The Brit started to panic, he was in actual danger and he was all alone with not a soul around to hear him scream, if only he had listened to their warnings..
The masked figure jumped down from the tree, as their cloak flew up from the fall George could see that whoever this was wore a light cream coloured blouse with what looked like some kind of corset. Somewhat strange attire for what he assumed to be a man, although the silhouette of the individual was somewhat androgynous so really he was just making wild guesses as to the gender of the masked person. All he knew was that they were dangerous
“Don’t come any closer!” The Brit backed up fully knowing that he couldn’t really run away
The supposed killer unsurprisingly didn’t listen to the small brunets orders, instead they continued to approach him with a small blade in hand. The stranger didn’t harm him like he thought they would instead they walked around him
He felt like he was being studied or evaluated as if they had never seen another person before. Was the masked figure was trying to commit him to memory or perhaps was this like how the wolf examines their prey before they kill it. Was this how he dies? Well on the positive side, that’s one way to get out of marrying a woman he’s never met.
Suddenly the individual stops in front of George, they’re a lot taller than him he notices. He closes his eyes and prepares for the worst but instead of being punctured through his chest he fells a hand tilt up his chin “Don’t move” after hearing the masked strangers voice he was sure it was a man but why didn’t he want him to move?
He dragged what looked to be a throwing knife across the Brits neck, not deep enough to be fatal but enough to bleed ever so slightly.
George didn’t do or say anything, he let the man do as he pleased for some strange reason. He knew that the warmth in his face wasn’t the right reaction but neither was screaming and getting himself killed
“You’re not supposed to be out here are you?” The tall stranger spoke again easing his grip on George’s face
”n-no I’m not supposed to..” he was worried about his response, if there was a correct or incorrect answer
The masked man simply nodded before holding the shorter ones hand and asking “You’re married?”
”no no no it’s an arranged engagement” he pulled his hand back “I haven’t even met her”
“Oh” Why did this cloaked killer sound happy to hear that George wasn’t a married man? This was beginning to feel strange, how could so many people have disappeared because of this guy who hadn’t even done anything to fatally harm the Brit? It just didn’t add up but before he could think about it any further the strange man moved his hand from holding onto George’s jaw onto the brunets lips pulling the bottom one slightly down with his thumb
”You’ll return tomorrow” The way he said it, that wasn’t a question it was an order that the Brit had no option but to follow
“y-yes..”
”Good.” The masked figure released George from his grasp and disappeared amongst the trees
The brunet walked up and leaned his back onto a tree as he cupped his neck in his hand he could only wonder why. Why was he spared? Why had a murderer been gentle with him? He looked into his hand, a small streak of blood was in his palm; ok well not that gentle but still he wasn’t dead. But why.. why did he not feel terrified as it happened? Why did the pain feel.. good?
He noted it down in his journal, and rushed back into town. He wouldn’t tell anyone about the details of what had happened in the woods not until he figured it out himself.
...
It was well into the night but he was still at his desk with his journal flipped open, he hadn’t written anything in it for weeks even if he carried it everywhere but tonight he had written a total of five pages.
When he first got the book he’d write half a page if something interesting happened but this he just needed to remember everything he had filled two other pages with sketches of what the masked man looked like, drawing him to the best of his abilities.
The candle he had lit had melted considerably from the hours of note taking he had just put his poor hand through
Why was this so important for him to write down? He was a murderer why did he feel so compelled to see him again? It was too late to think about anything more his head was gonna burn out, speaking of burning he blew out the candle before he fell asleep next to a live fire.
The smoke filled his breath, he knew you weren’t supposed to inhale it but no one needed to know that he liked to let the warm scented smoke fill his lungs every so often
Laying down on his unmade bed all he could do was stare up at the ceiling. He was tired but just couldn’t sleep “Come on George you need to sleep..” he said to himself as he buried his head into the only pillow on his bed. What was this feeling? This feeling of doing something wrong that still felt good, he couldn’t find a name for it but it was driving him nuts.
The Brit ran his fingers over the cut on his neck, it no longer bled when touched.
Why did he want that masked weirdo to do it again?
What was so special about a literally cut to the throat??
These questions made him want to tear his brain out just so he couldn’t hear these confusing thoughts. It was like dreaming awake but the kind of dream that you know makes no sense the kind you confuse yourself in. Dreaming.. dreamin.. dream.. d..
He drifted off into sleep with only one image in his head the white mask and green cloaked figure standing above him on a tree branch, just watching..