《The black phone ~imagines~》Teach me to survive (robin)
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A/n- I would like to apologise for making u cry and now possibly making u cry again
He kidnapped me 4 days ago. He would degrade me by telling me that no one was looking for me and no one cares about me. It worked but, it also hurt
The god damn phone rings every 2 minutes. Each call is a victim. They try to tell me how to escape but their plans usually result in me being beat
The phone rang for the 2nd time today. First Vance and now god knows who.
I frustratedly got up to answer the phone. Bringing it to my ear, I heard the familiar breath. His breath
Y/n- robin?
No answer. Tears threatened to spill at the thought of robin. I loved him in every way I could. As my best friend, as a partner and as a lover.
I was filled with self doubt when I heard he was kidnapped and presumed dead. I never gave up hope that some day we would be together again. That some day I could hug him, smell the sweet scent of him and brush my fingers through his hair
Y/n- robin please... if it's you I need to know, I need to know where you are
Robin- you can't find me
Y/n- why not, where are you?
Robin- he got me
I paused , trying to process his words
Robin- but I'm not gonna let him get you. He took everything from me, I'm not gonna let him take you. Your all I have left
Y/n- robin I want to be with you
Robin- I know, I know. Believe it or not, I'm with you
Suddenly I felt something hold my shoulder. I turned but there was no one there. Robin had placed his hand on my shoulder. When he saw I could feel it, he was ecstatic but soon realised I couldn't see him
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Robin- you felt that?
Y/n- yes
I could hear him crying through the phone. I knew it was him.
Robin- look, you don't have much time so I'm gonna need you to do as I say
Y/n- ok
Robin- your gonna disconnect the phone, pack it with dirt. Take one step forward, one step back, one step forward and swing. You got that?
Y/n- yes
Robin- practice now
Y/n- wait will I still be able to call you
Robin- this is the final call
Y/n- but, but there's so much I have to say. Things I need to tell you.
I began to panic
Robin- y/n!
Y/n- mhm?
Robin- I know
I smiled as the tears rolled down my face
Robin- come on, don't cry
Y/n- sorry ... how do you do it again?
I already knew how to do it, I just didn't want to hang up the phone. I wanted this moment to last forever
After he explained it a few more times , he insisted it was time to go
Robin- I love you y/n. We'll meet again. Maybe not today or tomorrow but soon. I promise. And when that day comes, I'll be waiting for you with open arms
Images flashed in my head of what he was saying. I imagined every little detail. I would await that day for the rest of my life. Hoping it would come sooner than ever but for now I had to prepare for the fight of my life.
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The First Corridor of Old Works
But what is it, really? Old Works. They say, some do anyway, or would, if they still had tongues - it's a dream. That it's a million year old mystery connecting three planets. Some, yet other, anonymous entities, charge that it's a structure, more accurately, an architecture - a quest, even, made from, and through - corridors. Pretty inarguably, for one thing, it's a maze. Even some pronounce, if you can understand those currently vomiting blood, that it's a corporation, and yet others - the brave ones – and dead - say it's... near death. Or that it is. Death. - Death itself. But that dark thing on the horizon, that thing emerging to replace the only system we... know. - Whatever it is it couldn't be the end, of everything, could it? Eminently possible, but - it couldn't be worse? 3 civilisations/3 planets... and Old Works. 4 heroes: The Cyclops seeing out his Eye the reality of that place - and by means of that vision - greasing the many-toothed gears of that great old churning nightmare. The Writer sweating to keep the story alive that supports the great old lying structure. The Fake King who abides among all those tunnels of dreams and lies and dreams and... slaves. And the Hero Dreamt, all those slaves - to maintain that structure's even functioning, have to - at all... they dream him. They literally dream him. But that thing, from whence, who knows, arriving? What kind of sick demonic mind could even - But it can only be psychosis - Or possession. Reducing all of reality to some kind of – what would you call it? A Game? A video... joke? And that half-Cyclops, that beauty – what does she have growing – beneath her supernatural genitals? A game for him? A game/a dream; a – world? Or just Old Works. And this Wound in reality – that our writer near-died putting inside her. What is it anyway? And what reality does it bring with it. This demon or God. Through the corridors; lattices of smoke and shadows and colours; dungeons; and supernatural organs; the labyrinths made from dreams... and flesh. - What happens when they face that Wound – staring the absolute. right. in. them? - Through - What happens to all us... slaves... then? But at the end of the hallway, you see it there, I say you do, that turning - It's only the First Corridor of Old Works. This finished 104,000 word kind of LITRPGy fantasy novel, the First Corridor of Old Works will be released in daily 2000 word chapters, or equivalent [unfailingly at 20:47 GMT] Immediately followed by the Second Corridor of Old Works [161,000 words, edited, ongoing, as of 24/09/21] At first lite on stats these LITRPGy elements will become increasingly - built meticulously upon what precedes - ubiquitous, as we proceed into a world painstakingly built to support these mechanisms. After - minimum - 6 months, this manic daily release schedule will be somewhat relaxed: 5 days a week. - But don't lie to yourself it's not there. That thing watching at the end of the hallway... and where it leads. It's - Of countless, it could only be - The First Corridor of Old Works.
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