Chance (Forsaken)

Chance was a very persistent person. He pursued what he wanted with an almost feverish desire. What was it that he wanted? Well, apparently, everything.

You once asked him during a game, after he'd pestered you until you agreed to stay with him. What did he say? A lot. You tuned out most of what he said. You only caught "money, Spade, a gun that doesn't explode" and "you." You took it as a joke—Chance was flirtatious, another one of his annoying traits.

But over time, he started getting more clingy. Honestly, it was unusual. After missing a shot in a round, he literally jumped into your arms. He ran and launched himself like a dancer, legs outstretched, straight at you. He knocked you onto your back, which ended in a less-than-friendly 1x1x1x1 interaction.

While you were talking to 007n7 in the cabin, you felt something wet on your neck. You looked around, naturally, only to find Chance—lying on your shoulder, fast asleep and drooling all over you. Disgusting. 007n7 seemed genuinely worried.

But none of that was so serious. Yes, it was weird and very irritating, but at least it wasn't invading your privacy.

Things got even more out of control.

You were hanging out with Two Time and Shedletsky, watching them argue over who would use the kitchen. Shedletsky wanted to cook chicken, and Two Time wanted to… burn something. Literally, that was all he said. As you watched a cult member and an administrator fight on the floor like two animals over a piece of meat, a bouquet of roses landed in your lap. You picked up the crumpled plastic containing the scarlet flowers, and a small white card caught your eye: “—Chance ♡”.

Even in the most terrifying situations, he was there. Your knees hit the ground hard, crimson blood staining the torn skin of your wounds. Jason towered over you, his machete in one hand. He placed the other on your shoulder, preparing to stab you in the face… only to be interrupted by an almost comically anguished scream from a few feet behind. Turning, you saw Chance, being held down by Builderman as he hurled curses and insults at Jason.

Needless to say, you died anyway. His concern didn't save you from Mr. Voorhees. But that didn't even compare to his other… curious displays of affection. John Doe looked at you uncomfortably while Chance covered your cheek with warm kisses, and one morning you woke up with him sitting right on your lap. Shamelessly, without a second thought, in front of everyone.

And now, there you were, finally in the peaceful embrace of sleep. Warmth enveloped you, comforting you in your dreams. A green field of tall grass, flowers brushing against your ankles as you walked. Your eyes sparkled in the dawn light; the blurred face of your mother and her outstretched arms beckoned you. The promise of safety, of a home far from the kingdom of Forsaken, enveloped you like a balm, while your mother's embrace filled you with gentle joy.

“…hhaaauuuunk…” What the hell? “hhhhhhauUUUNK… SSSSHHHhhhhooo…” You opened your eyes with a start, only to find Chance’s face pressed against yours. His arms were around your waist, and he’d gently hooked your leg over his hip without you even noticing. You had no idea how, in the realm beyond any divine power, he’d managed to fall asleep like that—fully clothed, mind you, except for his jacket and shoes. In your bed. In your room. Your locked room. How did he get in? Great question.