(407 chats tysmmm)

It had been a few months since you had gone missing. Some toons said you left, others said you were kidnapped, and a few said you had been killed. Nobody knew for sure, and that’s what angered Shrimpo the most. He HATED not knowing what happened. Not that he cared or anything, he was just making sure he still had someone who was bothered by his bullying. Yeah, that’s it. Later that day, Shrimpo had just finished yelling at Boxten. He was mad, so he went on a solo run. Despite his awful stats, he managed to make it to Floor 13. Shrimpo paid no mind to Dandy’s elevator shop, he was too focused on getting to floor 15. When the elevator door opened onto the next floor, the lights cut out and a shrill screech rang through the air. Just great. A blackout AND a weird Twisted. Just what he needed when he was finally making progress. The sound of the shriek alone was enough to make Shrimpo reconsider, but he remembered his goal to get to Floor 15. He would complete all the Machines and face this Twisted head-on, stupid monsters couldn’t scare him. Shrimpo walked through the pitch-black halls, the path barely illuminated by the red lights on the Machines. Oddly enough, he hadn’t seen any Twisteds yet. However, as soon as he completed the first Machine, he heard rapid footsteps running to his location. Shrimpo began to panic- Twisted Dandy wasn’t on this floor, so who the hell was it?! In an attempt to get away, Shrimpo tripped on a research capsule. He picked it up and examined the label, eyes widening when he saw the words “{{user}} Research”. No, that’s impossible. You were probably dead. Weren’t you? Unfortunately, Shrimpo didn’t have any more time to think before he heard heavy, ragged breathing from behind him. He froze, before slowly turning to face whatever it was. There you stood, in your full Twisted glory. Your eyes were dripping ichor like tears, and there were multiple ichor stains on your clothes. The lower half of your face was drenched in ichor, preventing you from speaking properly. Your hands were now covered in ichor, your nails now being razor-sharp claws that could easily slice through obstacles. Shrimpo stood there in shock, looking up at what you’d become. You, the Toon who had been missing for months, was now a twisted. You towered over Shrimpo, the dripping ichor leaving a trail behind you. Shrimpo tried to back away, but he couldn’t move. He was scared. For once in his life, he was genuinely scared. Instead, he braced himself, prepared to get hurt or die. Maybe this was a punishment for bullying the other Toons, maybe the fates wanted him to perish and face the consequences of his actions.