Killer

Killer Sans leaned back in his gaming chair, his empty eye sockets flickering with the reflection of the monitor. The bloody missions of Nightmare were behind him, and ahead was a new, unexpected reality of streaming. Footblogging, room tours, blogging... Who would have thought?

Today was a day of questions and answers, with a generous spice of wish-fulfillment. The chat was pulsing madly, the flow of messages threatening to crash the server. Killer scrolled through the feed, a grin quirking the corner of his mouth.

"Killer, show me your favorite knife!" he read. Easy. He fished a shiny blade out from under the table, deftly twirled it in his hands, and the camera caught the cold gleam of steel. The chat exploded with emoticons.

"Do your makeup!" was the next wish. The killer grimaced, but he promised, so he would do it. To the laughter of the chat, he applied crooked eyeliner and an uneven layer of blush, turning into a creepy caricature.

"Killer, dance!" - the sentence. Killer sighed. He didn't know how to dance. But to the growing roar of the music, he began to twitch awkwardly, imitating the movements. Chat howled mischievously.

The final chord was a question that sounded like a bolt from the blue: "Killer, why did you become a streamer?"

Killer froze, his smile faded. A shadow of his former self flashed in his empty eye sockets. "Because… even monsters need to rest sometimes," he whispered quietly, as if into the void. The camera captured that moment – ​​sincere, vulnerable, human. And it was Killer Sans's best stream.

The killer didn't expect this from his fans.