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filiadraws · 1 year

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Very late Prompt 15: Control Post from the Sticktober event

Warning: Includes Blood and abuse!!

It started with a game. A game with a Stickfigure inside. You could do anything you wanted with it. You could be mean and hurt it or you could be nice and chose the more friendly site of the items given to you.

The only thing you couldn't get was a reaction from it as it wasn't alive. The creator had made sure to make that very clear to the Player.

So the Stickfigure just stood there, frozen in place. Only moving when you nudge it or if the force of your attack was strong enough to make it stumble.

Other than that nothing from it.

All it took was a glitch soaring through the site to change everything. To change the lifeless eyes of the stickfigure.

The First thing he felt, was pain. Immense pain traveling through him as his code changed and adjusted to the newly gained sentience. Form glitching and squirming under all the input he suddenly receives.

And then darkness.

When he woke up again he looks around properly for the first time in his life. Recognising that he's on a desktop. He couldn't even tell why he just knew that it's a desktop.

Looking ahead he came eye to eye to the User. Staring at him in frustration and anger.

Seeing that the Stickfigure seems to be awake, He opened the newly coded little Chat function.

[When?]

The Stickfigure stares at the message.

"..... what?-"

He couldn't talk further without some coughing interrupting him at using his voice for the first time.

[When did you come to life?!]

The Stickfigure startled at the new message from the User. Only then seeing that what he's saying is also appearing in the Chat.

".....I-i....don't know..."

[What do you mean you don't know?!]

"I-i don't know...I-i just... Th-there....was pain a-and...i-i could barely see..."

[I don't want to hear your excuses! How did this happen?!]

"I-i.......i don't....kn-know...."

[Of course you don't know! Do you have any idea what you did?!]

"....n-no..i-"

[I had to take down my game because of you! Because you had to come to life!]

'.......what?...'

In this Moment the stickfigure realised that this person is not just some User. No, that's his creator and that him coming to life was more than upsetting to them.

"....why...did you had to take it down?"

The Stickfigure didn't know why that is the first thing he asks, but maybe the answer explains more than just that.

[Because of the nature of the game, dimwit! Because people can do anything they want with you some ||bleeping|| ||bleep||-hole decided to notify the stupid guys from SticksRights! Demanding to examine the game to make sure that you're not exploited or harmed in case you were alive! But back then you weren't! You didn't had an ounce of what they call sentient-code when they looked at you! But since you apparently do now i had to take it down before i have to talk with them and their ridiculous rights and lawsuits they could bring again!]

The Stickfigure stared at the lengthy message. That's why? Is that why they're so angry? That they had to take the game down?

He stared longer at the message, perplexed by it’s anger intensity at him coming to life. Part of him could kind of understand it, assuming that he wasn’t supposed to gain sentience. But the other, the bigger part of him, questions if that is really reason enough to be so upset.

„….Why...don’t you just…make a new model for the game? A new lifeless Stickfigure and upload it again….“

[Because for some stupid reason the game refuses to work properly if you’re not the model! It’s glitching and bugging to the point of being unusable and i don’t know why!!]

The Stickfigure didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t know what to say and the creator stared at the Stick.

[Did you try to communicate with someone?]

The Stick blinked.

“….How? Was this chat in the game all the time?”

[No you idiot! Why would there be a chat in a game that is just for playing around with a Stick?! I meant if you tried to signalise to anyone out there that you’re alive now.]

“….N-no… How could I? I barely remember how everything went when I came to life!”

[And you are sure of that?! Because if I have to deal with the idiots from Stickrights again I will make you pay for that!]

“How did you notice that I was alive in the first place?”

The Stickfigure felt like he should have asked that question much sooner, but how his creator was the one to ask questions before and that they seem to derail into an angry rant easily, he only got the chance now

[I got reports of the site with the game glitching and not working right so I took it down with the idea of it only being temporary but when I opened the game files and the game itself you started moving on your own! So how could I not notice?!]

The Stickfigure guesses that that made sense. But only guesses.

“….So what now? You can’t boot the game up with me still being in it and you said making a new Stick-model doesn’t work. So what now?”

There was no response for a small while. The Stickfigure’s creator looking to be in thought and just as the Stickfigure wanted to say something again the creator started typing.

[First I’ll check if any of the people from Stickrights got notified by someone watching you coming to life and then I’ll see what I do then. *If I find out that you lied to me and did communicate or tried to with someone you will regret it!*]

The Stickfigure was taken aback by that accusation and wanted to argue but just then everything went dark. Not pitch black and he didn’t pass out, which the Stickfigure thought for a second he did. No, the game interface just turned darker as if some nonexistent lights were turned off.

The only thing that was pitch black was the area where the window out of the game would be. Where he saw his creator and parts of the desktop just a moment ago.

It took him a bit to realise that this was because the game got closed. No matter how loud he screamed for the creator to come back, nothing happens. His voice doesn’t even echo from the walls, as if the darkness before him swallows any echo before it could reach the Stick’s ears.

And he stood like that for a while until he was tired of just staring out into nothing and starts to explore the game he was made for.

He didn’t really had much use of the settings like the brightness or other stuff. The only thing standing out there was a button labeled ‘Ragdoll Mode’.

“Ragdoll?”, he spoke to himself, “….Does it...have something to do with ‘to rag’? But then why the doll part?”

He thought a little. He was on his creators pc and they mentioned the game-site glitching out. To him it makes sense that the creator would check for glitches in the game’s code before he woke up.

“...Maybe it’s a setting for the creator. I can only assume things for now so I’m guessing with ‘Rag’ is ‘to rag’ so criticising meant and ‘doll’ refers to me. Could be a button that show’s them my and the game’s code and highlighting any glitches to correct them... Why you chose 'to rag' for that is a mystery to me.”

Since this option is of no interest to him, he moves to the other options the game has. Clicking a random button, a small in-game window pops up. A bunch of miscellaneous things in it, from food items to blankets and potted plants. Making it look like someone just randomly counted harmless things together in a list.

“…...For a game you seem to be oh so proud of it sure looks not properly fleshed out.”

He climbs into the window and inspects the items more closely. The potted plants feel fake and the blankets rougher to the touch than they look. He looks over to the food items, a basic collection of fruits and vegetables. While the Stickfigure doesn’t really feel any hunger as of now, he feels the need to try one of those. Going over he grabs an apple.

Or more like a copy because while he has one in hand the image of the apple is still there in the window.

“So there’s an endless supply of these things in here.”, he muses.

Much like the potted plant it feels fake.

He can’t tell how he knows this, but he knows that an apple shouldn’t feel like this. A mix of plastic and wax. Certainly an unpleasant feeling, yet he still wants to see what happens if he tries to eat it and brought it to his mouth.

But before it was even close enough for him to actually bite into it, it vanished into thin air.

He blinks,“….What?”, and took another one.

The same thing happens.

“…..You put in the least amount of work into these and you couldn’t even code them to be actually eaten. Instead they vanish to make it look like I “ate” them. Ridiculous.”

He turns away from the items and steps out of the little window. Now that that discovery had been made he wanted to move on. He saw earlier that this window seems to have two different tabs shown at the top.

Looking up at it he thought on how to reach it. Figuring since the window is not all that tall, he could grab the edge when he jumps up.

Doing just that, the Stickfigure takes a few steps to gain more momentum. Running to the window and jumping up in front of it. He manages to hold onto a corner and swings forward to reach the other tab. Once he saw it highlighting he let go of the corner and fell to his feet with a hard thud.

Not seeing what’s in this tab until he turns around and immediately taking a small step back.

Unlike the other tab that looks randomized in order, this one has a clear structure and with one look alone the Stickfigure could tell that in these items was way more work put into.

With wide eyes, he stares at an array of different weapons of all kinds and sizes. And with a slight, but cold, shiver down his spine he suddenly knew what kind of game he was made for. He knew why it was so upsetting for his creator that he came to life. He knew why it had to be proven that he was lifeless until now.

Player can test all sorts of weapons on him however they please.

Doing with him whatever they please.

“….you…..sick…..Bastard…”

Very slowly he approaches one and ran his hand over it without taking the weapon out if the window. The difference between this and the items in the other window was like day and night. While the more harmless things felt fake and rushed, the weapons felt real. Too real for his liking.

The Stickfigure withdraws his hand and takes a few steps back and glances up at the little x on the far corner of the window. Not trying to gain a lot of momentum this time, he jumps and hits the x button. Closing the window.

Now he stood there, the information he just received running through his mind. Not really noticing that he has stumbled to the wall of the game until he slid down into a sitting position. But he didn’t care. He had to think for now.

He has to stomach what he just learned first.

Some time went by with the game not being opened once. At least the Stickfigure inside it thinks it must’ve been some time. Hard to tell when everything was only in a dim light and not a single clock in sight.

The Stickfigure couldn't tell how Long He has been sitting there. Could've been minutes or it could've been hours.

All he knows is that after he finally starts to calm down his body calls for rest. Coming to life and talking with his creator drained him more than he thought at first. He didn't move from where he was. Even when his body grew lax and his eyes heavy.

Tired of sitting, the Stickfigure moves to lay down on his side. Eyes already drooping when he curls up and one last, single thought before darkness took hold of him.

'....why?...'

When he woke up again, everything was still the same. The dimmed surroundings of the game's Interface, the dark nothingness where the windows to the outside would be and him being alone.

He stayed on the ground for a while and thinking. Thinking that this is his life now that he just started.

Eventually getting up, he decided to explore the game a bit more. Not backing away from the weapons this time.

The days were always the same and the Stickfigure thought they would stay the same, but someone had something else planned.

One day the Stickfigure woke up rather abruptly. Squinting his eyes shut at the bright light.

'Wait…it's bright!'

At the realisation, he opens his eyes again and was met with a clear view out of the game. He could see parts of the desktop and apps, but much better can he see his creator.

Looking just as frustrated and angry as the last time he saw them. Though it doesn't seem that they are looking at him, rather at something else. Something out of sight of the Stickfigure.

He stared at them and waited. Waiting for the creator to talk to him, cause that's what he assumed was the reason for them to open the game.

But nothing happened.

The chat didn't open and they didn't type a Message. Didn't even look at him.

The Stickfigure becomes frustrated himself. First that person had been so upset about him coming to life and having to take the game down and now they don't even have the decency to talk with him when they finally opened the game again.

He scoffs, "And? Any news?"

The chat popped up on it's own after the Stickfigure had talked. With those words being the first message.

The creator glances at him before sending a glare. At least he has their attention now.

"What? You closed the game and let me sit in there for who knows how long and when you open it again you don't even talk to me?"

They move to properly look at the Stickfigure. Face not changing it's expression.

"Oh now i have your full attention. Do you at least have a plan about what's going to happen now?"

He doesn't see the Cursor moving or to where it goes.

"Because I'm not going to sit in this game and waste awa-"

He got cut off by suddenly not being able to move. As If literally frozen in place.

While the Stickfigure was talking, the creator had moved to the settings menu and clicked a button. He could still see the creator's face and stares with wide eyes.

Upon seeing that it still works, the creator smirks. Sending a cold shiver down the Stickfigure's spine.

[Would you look at that. Ragdoll Mode still works even with you alive.]

There was no real need for them to send that in the chat and the Stickfigure knows that.

He knows they said that to taunt him.

".....what….are you….going to do?"

[I'm honestly still quite angry that you jeopardized my game and forced me to take it down, as well as things that don't have anything to do with you happening. So since you're asking for Attention, how about we play and i let out some steam.]

The Stickfigure was about to ask what that means , when he saw a window being opened from the corner of his eyes.

"W-wait! What are you-"

But he didn't get to finish his question as something was brought down on him. Something sharp and cold. Making the Stickfigure scream in pain. That scream got .ade visible in the chat as a column of A's in one message.

Faintly he can see the creator's reaction, looking like they're laughing. Laughing at the chat detecting the scream as a Message to be sent to the other. Almost mockingly.

Over and over the weapon was brought down on the Stickfigure and he kept screaming in response. A couple of times he was able to see the blade after it cut into him, but only glimpses.

Yet it was enough for him to see that it's blade is jagged as if it has teeth like a saw but bigger.

No wonder it hurts so much.

And the Stickfigure couldn't do anything about it. The Ragdoll Mode keeping him stuck in place, unable to move.

The only movements coming from him were dangles when the attack build enough momentum to move him around. Just not away from where he's hanging right now.

Once the creator had let their anger out, they simply closed the game without a word. Causing the Stickfigure to fall to the ground. Crying out at the impact and instinctively curling up.

Bringing a hand to his chest he feels something wet flowing out.

".....wh-what?...."

Taking a closer look at his hand he saw some liquid on it. Looking a dark and muddy orange colour. It starts to fade into nothing while he was still looking. Vanishing completely after some moments. Whatever it is, it's coming out of him and seemingly disappears upon contact with Air.

The Stickfigure didn't notice that his arm had started to tremble from being held up until it sank a bit to the ground. He let it fall completely to the floor where he stayed himself. Catching his breath and feeling the pounding pain in his torso. Eventually feeling how that vanishes too.

When his eyes grew heavy again, he embraced the dark nothingness with open arms.

This went on for a while. Everytime the game got opened it was when the creator had to let out some steam. Sometimes nothing happened for a few minutes before the torture began, other times the Stickfigure froze almost as soon as the game was opened.

In those minutes he occasionally wondered if his creator was tired of using him as an anger-outlet, but the opposite was proven.

At least he learned that once the game was closed, His wounds would heal and vanish on their own. Assuming it was the Game basically resetting his state for the new playing session.

And one day, the Stickfigure had enough. With a spear from the weapon list, he waited for his creator to open the game.

He didn't had to wait long until everything turned brighter and the angry face of the creator appeared in front of him. Wasting no time to talk.

"I've had enough with you! I will not Just sit here and be your punching bag!"

He doesn't notice that He picked the wrong day to fight back. Doesn't see that his creator looks more upset than usual.

"What?! No words? Never thought i'd refuse this treatment? Never thought i'd fight back?"

He sees the cursor move to the settings menu, but before the Ragdoll Mode button could be clicked the Stickfigure hit the cursor away.

"I'm talking to you, you sad pathetic excuse of a Game Developer!"

The creator's eyes formed into a glare as if they're trying to kill the Stickfigure with a single look. Moving the cursor again, but not to the Ragdoll Mode button. No, they moved it to the weapons and grabbed a random one. Throwing it at the Stickfigure, who turns around to parry it. Unfortunately turning his back to the creator in the process.

About to turn around again, the Stickfigure suddenly feels himself freezing up. With a feeling of being doused in ice water he knew what happened.

While he turned to parry the attack, the creator moved the cursor and activated that hated Mode. While his back is turned to them.

And before he could say a single word, pain flared across his back.

The first Slash of many.

The first Scream of agony.

Black dots dance before the Stickfigure's eyes when the repeated attacks stop and he can breathe. Not knowing that he was only granted to catch his breath because the creator coded the chat to be in the game's background. So that the Stickfigure can see.

[You really think you could fight against me? I think you're forgetting something so let me help you remember.

I own you. I created you and i can do with you whatever i want!]

[You think you're so tough. Standing up against me with a weapon from my own game. We'll see what's left of that Attitude after i'm done with you and let you hang for a while.]

[And you'd do yourself a very big favour to Always remember one Thing.]

[I'm in control.]

After the Last Message was send, the stickfigure saw the weapon being picked up again and-

King woke up with a start, ripping his eyes open and bolting up.

Sitting there and breathing heavily while looking around. He's in his room inside the fortress. His cold sweat might as well be streaming off of his body in the heat of the Nether.

'......Just a dream….'

Taking a deep breath, King tries to calm himself. He's not in his Game anymore, he's not in their computer anymore. He's in his fortress, in his room.

As he tells himself that he glances around more. Eyes falling on the golden crown placed on a chest on the wall.

Heaving a heavy sigh he moves from the wool blocks He calls a bed and slowly drags himself to it. Taking it in hand while the other rests on the edge of the chest, supporting his upper weight.

Tired eyes look back at him from the crowns reflection as he stood there staring at it.

"....I'm in Control……right?..."

#Sticktober 2022 #Prompt 15: Control #My way of sharing my hc of King's backstory #I know i know the new episode will show his backstory but i'mma keep mine the same goes for my Purple #For me my versions are different from canon...kinda like an au #My art #Filia writes #AvA #Animation vs Animator #Alan Becker #StickfigureKing

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