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Rainbow Game, Room 9
Haunting
Viola stirred to the sound of a fluffy voice.
She wasn’t in the grass anymore, and no matter how much she tried to shut her eyes and pretend, she wasn’t in her soft saferoom or mother’s comforting fluff either. The floor was hard and cold, and while she wanted to think otherwise, she recognized Snaggle’s voice much too well to say everything had been a dream.
Finally giving up, Viola raised her head and looked around. She was lying in a small room, pure white with no items or obstacles of any kind, except for the large colorful frog -
With a startled yelp Viola huddled together and laid her hooves over her eyes. Daddy was sitting right in front of her!
“Oh … Yu awake?” Snaggle asked, trailing off from her one-sided conversation. When she didn’t get a reply, Viola heard the red earthie’s steps come closer and then a hoof nudged her side. “Viowa?”
“N-Nu wake Viowa,” the filly whispered worriedly. “Daddeh am hewe…!”
“Oh! Nu, is otay. Dat nu is Daddeh,” assured Snaggle, and Viola cautiously lowered her hooves. It wasn’t? But it looked like Daddy… “Dat is just big toysie. Nu is weaw!”
“Weawwy…?”
She supposed it wasn’t moving… It just sat there, a vacant smile stretching its face wide. Still, Viola didn’t dare to test Snaggle’s words out, so she stayed still as she looked around the room.
There really wasn’t anything else there, nothing but the other contestants scattered about a space meant for more. Lolo was breathing silently, fabric and bits of wood wrapped around her injured foreleg to help support it. At the back of the room Duffle’s large body rose and fell, his cracked and broken horns now missing entirely, and Ghost’s white fur blended into the wall he lay against so well that she almost missed him.
… Wasn’t there someone else? The one who’d taken them to an exit, the one that needed help the most? Viola’s heart sank. “Whewe …”
She remembered before even finishing the question. Her last memory before passing out, of Bunny tearing himself apart as he turned and ran. Viola whimpered; had Bunny really abandoned them? Had he escaped, or did Daddy catch and kill him? How badly did he hurt himself?
“Whewe what?” asked Snaggle, but Viola didn’t answer. She was growing aware of more things feeling wrong; she wasn’t hungry. She wasn’t thirsty. She didn’t even have to go to the bathroom. Why? How long had it been? When did she last eat?
… When DID she last eat?
“Viowa?” Snaggle asked again, concerned and puzzled. “Am yu otay? What’s wong?”
… Why did Snaggle act so normal? Why were they the only ones awake? Viola tried to hold back tears but they were stinging at her eyes. Nothing about this felt right. Then a sense of warmth enveloped her and a hoof nudged her into soft fluff, grounding her thoughts. She nuzzled into the red fur and imagined it was her mother, a kind smiling face saying she was a big fluffy and would make someone really happy one day.
“Mummah…” she whispered unconsciously, closing her eyes. A few seconds passed where she could just pretend.
“Dat bettew…?” Snaggle asked. Viola slumped as the hoof laid around her disappeared, then sighed.
“Widdwe bit… Viowa am sowwy…”
“It otay.”
“Why… why am Snaggwe nu bwoken now…?” It felt like a strange thing to ask, and the way Snaggle went still confirmed it. Viola already regretted asking, but while Snaggle was formulating her reply a groan caught their attention.
Lolo was stirring. The old mare carefully heaved herself up as though dazed, staring down at her wrapped-up leg. “Wuh… Whewe am …?”
“Fwuffies am hewe,” Snaggle reassured. Viola noticed movement from where Ghost lay and glanced over to see the batfluffy having hid his face in his forelegs to block out the light.
Lolo looked around tiredly, her gaze stopping on the big toy of Daddy. Her eyes narrowed. “… Whewe am hewe?”
Snaggle shook her head, not having a response, while Viola watched Duffle for any signs of life. There was no movement from the fluffalo other than his slow breathing. Rising to her hooves, Lolo carefully tested out her leg - using it didn’t seem to hurt her, but she soon laid back down. “How wong haf fwuffies been asweep…?”
“A few bwight-times,” answered Snaggle after a moment. The old mare shot her a suspicious look and she wilted. “It’s twue…”
“What do fwuffies do now,” Lolo sighed. “Nu haf exit anymowe… And wif Bunny dead, nu can find new exit eithew.”
“Bunny am awive.”
All eyes turned to stare at Snaggle. She didn’t look wrong, not like she was in denial or guessing, just like she’d stated a fact. Slowly, Lolo’s brow furrowed. “… How yu know dat?”
“Toy Boat said so,” the red mare explained, and Viola’s heart dropped. Seeing the way Lolo’s face twisted into a grimace, flanked by the slow scraping of Duffle finally stirring, Snaggle shifted back a step. “Wait - nu am cwazy. Snaggwe can, weww …”
“Toy Boat nu am hewe,” Lolo cut her off. “Toy Boat am gone.”
“Snaggwe knows dat!” Shaking her head, Snaggle reared back and then glanced aside to an empty spot of the room. Rubbing her foreleg, she returned her attention to the fluffies around her and gathered her breath. “Snaggwe… can see ghosts.”
Viola stared blankly. Ghost moved a bit at his name, barely peeking through his hooves, but nobody said anything.
“Snaggwe haf awways been abwe tu see ghosts,” Snaggle continued. “Smawty said nu teww anyone – dat is stwange thingy tu haf… But awways had Snaggwe tawk tu dead fwuffies, and find out what happen, and… Um… D-Dat’s why.”
Oh. That was why she kept talking to things that weren’t there. Viola could barely get her voice to work. “Am ghosties… hewe now, too?”
She was given a nod in reply. “Thewe’s Toy Boat… an’ Indigo… an’ Smawty,” Snaggle listed. “Toy Boat saw Bunny hide undew big twashy box. Daddeh nu couwd weach.”
“Nu Bwue?” asked Lolo.
“Bwue am wooking awound. Nu am hewe.”
Somehow, the old mare didn’t look certain. But how could she still doubt Snaggle now? Everything made so much sense now that Viola knew she could see dead fluffies.
“… What about othew fwuffies? Fwom othew games,” Lolo finally asked. Snaggle shook her head.
“Fwuffies nu stay if nu haf weason. Ghosty fwuffies awways disappeaw if nu haf thingies tu do.”
Silence fell over the room. What could anyone say? Duffle was trying to see his horns, only now realizing they were gone, while Ghost had returned to shielding his eyes against the white walls.
A light blinked on beneath Daddy and the frog swayed to the side. “Ah. Good, all contestants are awake.”
Viola stifled a cry of shock and huddled together, trying to hide in her own fur. Beside her Snaggle recoiled, while Lolo tensed and readied to attack. Daddy didn’t take notice of any of them, his head swaying from one side to the other. “Now, then… Unfortunately, Green could not be retrieved, but all other contestants were collected.”
So Snaggle was right. Bunny had escaped. Viola felt torn between relief and fear - if he had gotten away, he could get help… Right? He wouldn’t just leave them, right?
“Leaving the Rainbow Game early is not allowed,” continued Daddy, “but as all contestants broke this rule, there is no sense in eliminating them. As a contestant was also lost, the next vote will be skipped.” A small flutter of hope began to form in Viola’s chest, but was squashed before it could blossom. “Instead, the next game will contain a guaranteed death.”
Daddy’s frozen, wicked smile mocked her. Beside them, where Ghost lay at the wall, a white door slid open to reveal darkness. “One at a time, the contestants will enter the next room to be provided instructions.”
Ghost had gone through before Daddy even finished, eager to escape the bright lights, and the door closed again. “White first, is it…”
The frog fell still and silent once more as its light dimmed. Viola looked between the other fluffies, not knowing what to do - Snaggle looked just as lost as herself, while Lolo was deep in thought. Duffle’s expression was hard to decipher, head held low and mane covering his eyes. A guaranteed death. While Viola couldn’t be sure what ‘guaranteed’ meant, she didn’t need to in order to know what death meant. A challenge where one of them had to die.
Then the door slid open and Daddy, for a moment, came back to life. “Yellow.” Lolo’s turn. The old mare stepped through the door and it closed, leaving Viola with only Snaggle and Duffle for company. There was nothing to say, no way to ease any of their troubled minds, until once more the door opened.
“Violet.”
Her turn… It was hard to make her legs move, but Violet forced herself to a stand and entered the door with trembling steps, tail between her legs. What was on the other side? A spiky trap? Claws to run through and rip her asunder, fire, water…
But the room on the other side was surprisingly small, scarcely big enough to be called a room. There was no light inside, leaving Viola in complete darkness as the door closed, but then a large monitor lit up beside her and she winced. Daddy was on the monitor, leaned close with his head laid on crossed hands.
“Ah, Violet,” his voice rang through tinny speakers around the small room. “Our little mediator. The sole remaining heart of this group, I have a special role for you.”
His smile was wide with a frightening delight, watching Viola back up against the wall. “Listen well, Violet. Your role is that of ‘Detective’.”
“De-tective…?” Viola repeated shallowly.
“In the next challenge, one of the contestants will have a simple task. To kill one of the other contestants.”
What? Viola stood utterly frozen as a graphic showed on-screen - a small group of pixelated fluffies in different colors. A knife hovered by a deep red fluffy. As the pixel fluffies scattered, an arrow followed a bright blue fluffy, who the red fluffy followed and plunged the knife into.
The image reset as Daddy continued, peering from behind the graphic. “Your role is to find the identities of the killer and the target. You will be given a single chance to guess both correctly. If you do, the game will end without anyone dying.” The graphic played out again but this time a green fluffy sprang in between the red and blue ones, tailed by a magnifying glass.
Snapping out of her shock, Viola yelped up at the screen. “Viowa wiww! Wiww stop fwens fwom huwties!” She couldn’t imagine any of the other fluffies killing another - they were friends! They’d been struggling together for this long, right?!
The red pixel fluffy turned and plunged the knife into the green fluffy. It lingered on the visual for a few seconds too long before again resetting. “You will only have one chance,” Daddy repeated. “If you guess incorrectly, or the killer finds out about your role of ‘Detective’, their target will change to you. If that happens, the game will not end until you or the killer is dead.”
A cold shiver ran down Viola’s spine. So if she told the others she was a Detective, then…? Then she might be killed? But no - but the others wouldn’t kill her! They wouldn’t! But, that’d mean they would have to die instead…
“Do you understand your role, Violet?” asked Daddy, the screen changing back to his amused, relaxed face. “Repeat it for me.”
“V-Viowa… Haf tu find who of fwens haf tu gib fowevah sweepies… And which fwuffy fwen haf tu gib fowevah sweepies to,” Viola repeated, her voice shaking. “An’ if Viowa guess wight, then nu fwuffy gets huwt, but… if Viowa say am De-tective, then nu can win game wiffout any huwties…”
“That’s right. I knew you were a clever one.” The laughter in Daddy’s voice was all too clear. “And remember… If you take too long, the killer may kill their original target instead.”
Viola felt like crying. She scraped a hoof at the floor; how was she supposed to figure something like this out? “If Viowa ask … if Viowa ask if fwuffy am kiwwew, am dat otay?”
“Oh, you can ask,” assured Daddy. “But do remember, the killer has their own rules. And one of those rules is… That if the killer is found out and stopped by any fluffy that is not the Detective… then they will be executed and removed from the game.”
Her body went cold. If someone else found out, the killer would die. So if they told the truth, it’d be suicide. Even if they’d be truthful - if Viola asked Lolo and she admitted that was her role - it’d mean a death when there didn’t have to be one …!
“So o-onwy Viowa can… Onwy Viowa can stop fowevah sweepies? Nu othew fwuffies?”
Daddy’s smile had become a cruel grin. “Correct. Now, then… Go on, and remember, the outcome of this game rests on you.”
The monitor turned off and a door opened. Viola didn’t want to go. Her legs wouldn’t work. But the darkness was suffocating and she finally forced herself through the door, emerging onto a plush carpet.
The room didn’t seem scary. There were shelves and books all over, with a little fireplace - it all reminded her of a library, the kind seen on Fluff TV where a fluffy with a funny hat and coat would solve little mysteries such as who stole the cookie tin.
Oh, she realized, that fluffy must have been a detective.
Ahead of her Lolo was prodding aimlessly at a book, brow deeply furrowed, while Ghost lay tucked together against the far wall. Neither responded to Viola’s arrival and she found herself wandering to the fireplace. There was a fire burning, but it wasn’t warm and on further inspection it was just another screen…
Before long Snaggle joined the group, and after that came Duffle. Snaggle didn’t look well anymore, and Duffle’s head hung lower than she’d ever seen it before.
Viola understood. She didn’t feel well either. She needed help… She didn’t know where to even begin. How was she supposed to see any of them as potential killers? What was she supposed to do?
A buzzing sound from high up betrayed Daddy’s impending voice. “This challenge room’s rules are the same as in the Safe Room. Hidden around the room are several buttons. Once all buttons have been pressed the door will open. Do not forget your personal rules.”
Viola felt utterly sick. Her personal rules as a Detective. The killer’s personal rules. Did the others have rules too? She watched as the other fluffies interacted, the way Lolo glowered at Snaggle who shrank back and sought the reassurance of her ghosts, the way Duffle’s sorrowful gaze slowly swept across everyone before he walked away to search for buttons, how Ghost stayed quiet and kept his distance from everyone - even Viola.
Where was she supposed to begin? She couldn’t do this on her own.
… But who could she even get help from?
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