Was it the Sugary Death or was it the worry that kept Jesse up this night? Countless, countless times he’d thought over what Mr. Tenner said. There was nothing left to think about. Or nothing his brain could make out. The man had ranted about some weird shit. Case closed. It had to be the soda, but at this point, his blood was replaced by sugar and like he’d gotten used to the toughness of the new school subjects, his body was used to functioning on sweets and Sugary Deaths.

He had to solve it somehow or make waiting it out more entertaining than laying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Jesse tried watching the TV without the sound. It bored him to death then drove him to boredom hell. Using the midnight action movie as a light, he practiced the tricks he’d never gotten down. Tenner had shown the secret behind each at least a hundred times. And in each, there was a little tick that screwed Jesse over.

After half an hour of cards flopping about his stuffed room, he stuck his head out the window. His sigh was the only movement in the perfectly still air. He looked at the shopping street. As usual, the owners were closing and treading back home. He turned to the school. No one graffitied it tonight. Lastly, his eyes rested on Joker park. He froze. A dark, not so tall, not so short, but outrageously straight figure walked towards the chess table.

You didn’t just end up in Joker park in the middle of the night for no reason.

The figure’s dark clothes hid in the night. Only one thing was sure -- it was someone he knew. A familiar shape, but unique You’re trying to prepare before a big Destructor game? Clear your head? Why don’t I find out? By just staring I’m killing my already dying braincells! Jesse opened the window, then climbed down the wall with the help of his key. I bet it’s Max. Oh, or Martin! You two always looked at me sideways whenever I won. I bet you’re trynna win “without practice” and make me look like a dumbass.

Jesse landed on the ground and crept through the streets to the park.

The figure was crouched in front of the chess table. White light from their face scanned the ground and they started digging.

An idea so powerful it almost made Jesse trip into a pile of leaves hit him.

What if it was Tenner?

He was gone for almost a month. Probably, he saw the outside world and liked it there. Just a problem arose – he needed something he’d hidden under the chess table. As Mr. Tenner said, he was in some storm or something and couldn’t be seen by anyone in the neighborhood. So, for one night only, he came back. But he didn’t think Jesse would be suffering from insomnia and sneaking right behind him.

When there were ten steps between them, Tenner’s gloves attracted Jesse’s attention. The right one was weird in a way Jesse didn’t know a word for. Looking at it seemed to boggle his mind. It shouldn’t exist. That black glove was changing the world in front of his eyes.

Five steps away from Tenner, Jesse noticed that his friend wore black armor.

He’d seen this body shape once. That didn’t mean the figure had to be Tenner -- it could be someone from the outside.

Jesse grabbed the machete. As it unsheathed, his jewelry jangled. He caught his breath and uttered, “What are you doing?”

The figure, in their deep voice, said the exact same.

Jesse cleared his throat a few times and tried responding to the figure’s question, but his thoughts couldn’t muster up words. Not that his dry, shaking voice could say anything anyway. The figure stood up, extended their arms in a T-shape and shook the dirt off. Then, they turned their head around. A black mask shielded their face. They stared deeply into Jesse. Jesse took a step back, raising his machete. A shaky hand holding a knife way too big for it didn’t scare the figure. They took a long look at all the neighborhood’s houses and spoke.

“Same as you: exploring. Except you are a Non-C creature, Jesse.” The figure lowered Jesse’s machete and grabbed his chin. Jesse wanted to fight back, but staying alive also interested him. He let his face be examined, then his neck be grabbed, then his shirt torn open, and his chest examined. The figure continued, “A rare sight. Especially unexpected here. I don't like killing kids, but nor Intimidation nor See Me As Nothing But a Ghost will work... Do not mention this to anyone and you will stay alive.”

Jesse bobbed his head. The figure let him go. Finally, a breath reached his lungs.

The first instinct was to run and not look back. The fear flowing through his veins made him shake so hard standing in front of the figure made him feel like having a seizure. But this was an opportunity. Mr. Tenner had said something like this might happen. Jesse needed to know more. Maybe, with the right words, get his friend back.

“What… Is your name?”

“I have no time to talk and too many worries to share my name.”

“You don’t look like it… Like a person who’d need to worry about time.”

“You’re right but forgetting about the flow is a bad habit to have.”

Jesse looked at the figure sideways. “Okay… Then how do you know my name?”

The figure crouched by the hole they’d dug. Their gloved finger pointed at a small device under their eye. “Because of this. You’d have one, you’d know my name too. But my name is of such a nature that you learn it without a CHEK on your face and live in ignorance of it by covering your ears and walking the streets singing.”

“I have to know what to call you,” Jesse said. “I can’t be talking to a ghost… If someone asks me who I talked to.”

“Call me the Devil.” The figure started digging out the bottom of the hole.

Oh. Time for the question I meant to ask all along. “Do you… Know my friend Tenner?”

Dirt in hand, the Devil froze. “Tomorrow it’ll be used to.”

As the Devil started turning around, Jesse stabbed them in the neck.

The machete started slicing through the black armor.

And stopped once it reached the skin.

The Devil took the knife out of their neck. He laughed, he laughed after being stabbed!

“That’s adorable. Run.”

Jesse followed the instruction and disappeared from the park.

It all happened in an instant. He didn’t know why he did what he did, but he knew he’d die if he stayed there or tried another trick. Yeah, he was eager to test the new knife out. Not enough to commit murder, though. It’s their words. The second I heard them, I knew I had to stop it from happening. Guess I failed.

Jesse fell on his floor, slammed the window shut and rolled under the bed. Something seemed to creak. He grabbed his mouth. Breathing through the gaps in his fingers, he fell asleep.

He awoke to the Devil standing over him.

Unable to move, Jesse tried screaming. His mouth didn’t listen to him. He tried his hardest to rip his mouth open and make some sort of mouth. This ice-coldness kept frozen in place while the figure stared, unmoving.

The Devil disappeared.

Jesse’s body started listening to his mind. He screamed into a pillow and beat into the wall a hundred times. This was insane. He needed to clear his mind.

In an exhausted haze, Jesse left his home. A massive shadow loomed over the streets. The neighborhood’s barrier had turned to a massive brick wall. Screaming, he ran to it, slamming into the bricks. He would either be forever trapped, or this was finally a way to go to the outside world!

He beat against the wall for a few minutes before each of the spots that touched it turned to black sludge.

Jesse rotted.

His limbs fell away and turned into the asphalt.

The rot got to his head and he slipped into nothingness.

Six or seven hours later Jesse awoke alive, on his bed. Oh, what a terrible dream, he thought, leaning on the windowsill. The neighborhood was waking. The shop owners, last to leave, first walked the streets. Someone graffitied the school’s walls. And the ground under the chess table in Joker park was riffled.