Post by Admin Chiv on Apr 20, 2018 20:58:13 GMT -5
05. WE'RE ALL MAD HERE
THE SERIAL KILLER, CURIOSITY!
“Checkmate.” That was what the mysterious, grinning cat said last before disappearing into the dark.
The screens begin white—blindingly white. Then, blocks of pink, green, blue, red all begin to appear on the screen, twitching about erratically. Slowly, Cheshire’s face fades in behind it all. With his incoming doom, maybe it’s admirable that he’s still smiling. After a brief pause, a long tail of glittering silver and blue begin to swirl around and around, ‘til the screen is enveloped.
There’s a sharp cut to the audience; their faces scared, angry, relieved...but all alive. The audience you spent so long worrying about, each one breathing, their hearts beating. It’s a small comfort over the tinny screeching that is playing just low enough to make you unspeakably nervous.
The camera switches several times after that, to an aerial view of each of the Sectors. Each one is full of destruction. Walls are torn down, canals dried, and the masses riot—you can see small groups of them being gunned down. Their blood stains the purest Sectors. Sector 1, 2, 3, 4...your homes are ravished and unspeakably, irrevocably changed. But why? What’s driven them into this frenzy?
Then, a final cut to the white, clean walls of the Future Foundation; the logo lingers against the far wall. People scramble from corridor to corridor, speaking in hushed, severe tones. You catch something about “saving the kids” before the perspective switches one last time.
A black silhouette mutters into a microphone, digitally altered to hide their appearance.
“I won’t stop until you’re all gone. They didn’t plan for this; they couldn’t have. But just know—this is all their fault.”
With that cryptic message, the figure is gone again.
Cheshire’s face returns once more, broken up by digital artifacts. Slowly, once more, his fur...it begins to drip and melt away, revealing the rusted metal exoskeleton beneath. With every piece of bare rust exposed, it begins to crumble and fall away, leaving nothing in its wake. This is it. The end of Cheshire...for better or for worse.
The last clumps of fur melt away—the final piece falls away—
—his rusted, wicked grin.
The screen slowly fades to a checkerboard pattern, still covered in glitch patterns and blocks of broken color.
Words begin to flit across the screen:
“Checkmate? No,
Stalemate.”
The screens click off unceremoniously.
