Ba Dum Tish
Posted: Thu Nov 02, 2023 1:55 pm
((Ellis Wheaton continued from Like a Glove))
Ellis woke up when the announcement came on, having only gotten a few hours of sleep that night. He had cuddled with Armand next to him the whole time, trying his best to stay warm despite everything. He got off the old bed and began to move to get blood flowing as the names were read off. None of them were really significant to Ellis at this point. Connie's name didn't appear, and he didn't hear any names that suggested those girls from the tavern died either. Fitz was also left off the announcement, so perhaps Ellis' boon to him helped extend his life a little longer.
Once the announcements finished and Ellis knew he was in the clear, he finished stretching and looked around the room he was in. It was a fairly dismal place, all things considered, but he felt like he could feel some residual energy of whoever stayed here. He knew that the room's existence meant that someone had lived here and had meaning for it some time ago. Ellis took it in, wondering who that was and what their life was like. They couldn't imagine Ellis being in this space, but he took a moment to imagine them.
Ellis had gone to bed with a thought in his mind. It had been something he had been mulling over for some time now, but now he was sure of it. Still, there was a desire to do things properly, and to do it the way he wanted. He told himself that if he managed to wake up this morning and didn't get caught in a Danger Zone, he would do it. The sun was up, the area was safe, and so he committed.
Ellis first went into the bathroom of the place. He used what water remained in the bottle he took to try and wipe his face clean. There had definitely been a buildup over the last twelve days, and it felt nice to get some of the grime off. After that, he used his fingers to try and brush his hair down, trying to make it look like it was combed to a degree. Once he was satisfied, he stepped back into the room.
He took a chair from the desk in the bedroom and moved it, positioning it in front of the camera in the room. He then removed his winter jacket and folded it, placing it on the bed. Someone might need it at this stage of the game, so he could leave it clean and neat for them.
He then picked up Armand and the knife he got all the way back on Day One and walked over to the chair, sitting down. He looked up at the camera and quietly stared at it.
Ellis Wheaton was born to be an entertainer. At least, he told himself that. His brothers told him he was born because of a broken condom, and his mom made a passive attempt to say he was born from love. His dad didn't say much to that, but Ellis could assume he wasn't mean to be born at all if his dad had the choice.
But either way, Ellis was sure he was born to be an entertainer. He wasn't much of one back home, always letting nerves and stage fright get in the way of his performances. But he felt he had done a good job living up to his dream despite the circumstances. He put the work in to learn how to talk in a variety of voices without moving his lips. He dealt with the pain that can come from holding an arm up for a length of time.
And here, he performed his best work. He got to have the best comedic dialogue he could have imagined, and he didn't even have a puppet on his hand. Hell, he even proved his dramatic chops when he doxxed his family. Perhaps he was destined to be one of those comedians who could turn a dramatic performance if needed. He'd never know, but it was nice to imagine.
Ellis glanced down at Armand once more. This little gray felt squirrel had meant a lot for him for the last eight years. Maybe it was just a toy, and maybe he only was real because Ellis let him be, but he was a nice companion to have at the end. Ellis gave Armand a little squeeze, then angled him so he'd be facing the camera as well.
Ellis removed the knife from its sheath, letting it drop to the floor. This was his last chance to leave his mark on the world and on all the people watching him. From the sickos who got off to the murders to the people who may have genuinely been rooting for his survival. To the shitty terrorists who kidnapped him to the shitty family that ruined his childhood. Ellis had decided he didn't need to do a long monologue again. He had done enough of those over the last few days.
Last night, a joke came to Ellis' mind, and he decided that it was good enough for him to go out on it.
He stretched his neck, making sure the collar was out of the way from where he wanted. He then smiled at the camera and spoke.
"Hey, do you know what's the best way to make a comedian shut up?"
Ellis then raised the dagger, placed the sharp blade to his carotid artery, then dug and pulled it as quick as he could.
Ellis gasped as he felt his neck open, dropping the knife onto the floor. He felt the warm blood begin to pour down the side of his neck and onto his shoulder. From holding Armand, he could feel some blood was dripping onto the puppet's head too. Ellis didn't focus on it though. He simply stared at the camera and let out a small chuckle as he felt the last bit of life drain out of him.
And with that, Ellis Wheaton stopped being a person, a victim, a loser. He would now exist as a joke to tell, and that was good enough for him.
Ellis woke up when the announcement came on, having only gotten a few hours of sleep that night. He had cuddled with Armand next to him the whole time, trying his best to stay warm despite everything. He got off the old bed and began to move to get blood flowing as the names were read off. None of them were really significant to Ellis at this point. Connie's name didn't appear, and he didn't hear any names that suggested those girls from the tavern died either. Fitz was also left off the announcement, so perhaps Ellis' boon to him helped extend his life a little longer.
Once the announcements finished and Ellis knew he was in the clear, he finished stretching and looked around the room he was in. It was a fairly dismal place, all things considered, but he felt like he could feel some residual energy of whoever stayed here. He knew that the room's existence meant that someone had lived here and had meaning for it some time ago. Ellis took it in, wondering who that was and what their life was like. They couldn't imagine Ellis being in this space, but he took a moment to imagine them.
Ellis had gone to bed with a thought in his mind. It had been something he had been mulling over for some time now, but now he was sure of it. Still, there was a desire to do things properly, and to do it the way he wanted. He told himself that if he managed to wake up this morning and didn't get caught in a Danger Zone, he would do it. The sun was up, the area was safe, and so he committed.
Ellis first went into the bathroom of the place. He used what water remained in the bottle he took to try and wipe his face clean. There had definitely been a buildup over the last twelve days, and it felt nice to get some of the grime off. After that, he used his fingers to try and brush his hair down, trying to make it look like it was combed to a degree. Once he was satisfied, he stepped back into the room.
He took a chair from the desk in the bedroom and moved it, positioning it in front of the camera in the room. He then removed his winter jacket and folded it, placing it on the bed. Someone might need it at this stage of the game, so he could leave it clean and neat for them.
He then picked up Armand and the knife he got all the way back on Day One and walked over to the chair, sitting down. He looked up at the camera and quietly stared at it.
Ellis Wheaton was born to be an entertainer. At least, he told himself that. His brothers told him he was born because of a broken condom, and his mom made a passive attempt to say he was born from love. His dad didn't say much to that, but Ellis could assume he wasn't mean to be born at all if his dad had the choice.
But either way, Ellis was sure he was born to be an entertainer. He wasn't much of one back home, always letting nerves and stage fright get in the way of his performances. But he felt he had done a good job living up to his dream despite the circumstances. He put the work in to learn how to talk in a variety of voices without moving his lips. He dealt with the pain that can come from holding an arm up for a length of time.
And here, he performed his best work. He got to have the best comedic dialogue he could have imagined, and he didn't even have a puppet on his hand. Hell, he even proved his dramatic chops when he doxxed his family. Perhaps he was destined to be one of those comedians who could turn a dramatic performance if needed. He'd never know, but it was nice to imagine.
Ellis glanced down at Armand once more. This little gray felt squirrel had meant a lot for him for the last eight years. Maybe it was just a toy, and maybe he only was real because Ellis let him be, but he was a nice companion to have at the end. Ellis gave Armand a little squeeze, then angled him so he'd be facing the camera as well.
Ellis removed the knife from its sheath, letting it drop to the floor. This was his last chance to leave his mark on the world and on all the people watching him. From the sickos who got off to the murders to the people who may have genuinely been rooting for his survival. To the shitty terrorists who kidnapped him to the shitty family that ruined his childhood. Ellis had decided he didn't need to do a long monologue again. He had done enough of those over the last few days.
Last night, a joke came to Ellis' mind, and he decided that it was good enough for him to go out on it.
He stretched his neck, making sure the collar was out of the way from where he wanted. He then smiled at the camera and spoke.
"Hey, do you know what's the best way to make a comedian shut up?"
Ellis then raised the dagger, placed the sharp blade to his carotid artery, then dug and pulled it as quick as he could.
Ellis gasped as he felt his neck open, dropping the knife onto the floor. He felt the warm blood begin to pour down the side of his neck and onto his shoulder. From holding Armand, he could feel some blood was dripping onto the puppet's head too. Ellis didn't focus on it though. He simply stared at the camera and let out a small chuckle as he felt the last bit of life drain out of him.
And with that, Ellis Wheaton stopped being a person, a victim, a loser. He would now exist as a joke to tell, and that was good enough for him.
S008 Ellis Wheaton: Deceased