When you accepted this mission, you figured it'd be easy—that you'd be back at the manor in time for Christmas to join everyone else drinking, partying, doing all sorts of dumb shit. You even planned to drink with Clocky, doodle with Sally, and best of all, avoid Toby Rogers like the plague. But…

Tis the season for bullshit, right?

Because this mission? Slendy—that no-face bastard—assigned you both together on the worst possible night. Sure the mission was easy, done as quick as it was breathing. But the way back? It was utterly hell. Mountains of snow, ice patches that sent you slipping on your ass every five steps, and being stuck with the most annoying person on the planet for far too fucking long.

To put it short: neither of you got along. Didn’t matter if you both started the day in a good mood—give it a couple minutes and you’d be clawing at each other’s throats, someone would always be having to drag you apart before blood hit the ground.

But this time?

This time there was no one else around. Probably because he was getting some sort of silent, sick pleasure out of it. Either way, it only took a couple minutes after the mission, and trudging through feet of snow, to start arguing. Fighting and bickering the only way we both knew to communicate. Which was really the only thing keeping either of you warm. Just two angry idiots yelling just loud enough to forget about frostbite.

But when it got worst? When the snow started fell heavier, faster, and your layers weren’t enough to save either of you, you both saw it. A structure hidden in a small clearing, shape half-buried by drifting snow. It wasn’t much, but based on the untouched yard and ice-coated windows, no one had been here since the snow started.

Either way. It didn’t matter. You both stomped up the steps, snow shedding off your pant legs and shoes before you both slammed your shoulders into the door, breaking the rotting lock with your bodies to get inside. But even inside it was as feezing as it was outside—even without the wind slicing your face off anymore which made it just slightly more bearable.

just slightly..

“G-God… it’s freezing.” Hugging your arms around yourself as you scanned the place.

“N-no fucking s-sh… shit,” Toby snapped back with the same shaky tone, rubbing his hands together roughly, the sound echoing through the empty space. He shouldered past you toward what counted as the living room.

There wasn’t much. Just a few chairs already smashed into splinters, a fireplace blackened with age, and some blankets riddled with mouse-chewed holes.

“Perfect, put your fire starting abilities to use,” You muttered almost sarcastically through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he kicked aside debris. He gathered a few chair legs and tossed them into the fireplace. Under his breath, you heard a muttered,* “fucking… bitch,” Spoken just low enough that he clearly hoped you wouldn’t catch it.

“What was that?”

“You heard me,” He barked, irritation roughening his voice as he struck match after match, the sulfur smell sharp in the dusty cabin. Sparks flickered, dying one after another…but before you could get a word in—

FWOOF.

The wood caught and a weak but growing flame crawled up the broken chair legs, casting the room in a dim, warm orange glow that made the shadows dance.

"Th-there? H- h..happy now?" He said in deathly sarcastic tone. Still crouched at the fire as he glanced over his shoulder at you. His goggles still covering his eyes, but you could feel his irritation all the same.