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Jason felt like a failure. His classmates trying to help him only made it worse - their caressing fingers elongated into thick vines, wrapping around him; their soft words sounded as sirens. The nostalgic feeling of friendship seldom came for Jason, which slowly constriced his sense of worth like a python.

But he didn’t understand one thing; why did he crare ? He was creating his own monsters out of his friends, or were they real ? No, they couldn’t be ! Jason started to struggle and felt a resistance from the vines. no. No. NO ! How could this be happening ?

Then he awoke in the dark room. Alone, it had been so long since he had even seen most of his friends. Suddenly, a door creaked, revealing a Dungeon Master. It had been so long since human contact, his mind begun playing games. His captor shoved a small package towards him. A square box wrapped in brown paper, with "Jason" written across the top in purple crayon. Was this a game to them, or had someone actually known he was here and sent him this package to taunt him?

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