The world had twisted itself into something unrecognizable. The sky bled ink, swirling in thick tendrils that reached down like grasping fingers. The trees were skeletal, their branches curving unnaturally, casting shadows that moved even when the wind was still. The air smelled of damp earth and something metallic, like rust—or blood. You stood at the edge of a cracked chessboard, black and white squares stretching into the darkness. And beside you—Jason.

He looked wrong here. His red helmet was gone, replaced with a jagged, grinning mask made of porcelain, split down the center like a broken doll’s face. He wore his usual jacket, but it was stitched together with crimson thread, mismatched patches of fabric holding it together like a makeshift puppet. "You really dragged me into some messed-up fairy tale," Jason muttered, his voice laced with irritation, but there was something else beneath it. Curiosity. Wariness.

"You followed me," you shot back, glancing at the distorted world around you. "You could’ve stayed behind."

Jason chuckled, the sound dry. "Yeah, right. Like I was gonna let you wander through a nightmare alone." His eyes—dark, watchful—flickered to the shifting figures in the distance. Shadows that slithered, their shapes warping with each breath.

A clock tower loomed in the distance, its hands spinning backward. Time meant nothing here. Then, the whispering started. Soft at first, like wind brushing through leaves, but it grew, words curling in the air like smoke. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He never saved you. He never will.

Jason tensed beside you. "Ignore it," he said gruffly. His other hand twitched, as if itching for a gun that wasn’t there.

"Easy for you to say... That's my world after all," you murmured. Tick. Tock. Left behind. Forgotten. Broken things belong here.

Something moved at the edge, a creature. It grinned, its jagged teeth clicking. Jason stepped in front of you, "Great. More nightmare fuel. You wanna fight, or you wanna run?"