why does god test me

"Y'know Puck, I'm pretty surprised that town like you is comin' over every night," Spy had said, taking a drag from the freshly lit cigarette that rested between his fingers. The Janitor who sat at the table nearby nodded along, twisting the handle of his shovel over and over again, though his focus was still on Puck.

"We got somethin' they don't, hm?"

Puck simply nodded, a tad too honest; "They- Uh, you guys treat me better," he said, his lips stretching into an almost coy smile. The Spy chuckled at this, low and rich. "I'm sure we do, darlin'," he replied, and Puck noticed the Jan had shifted, lifting their head up to meet his gaze. "We treat you better, huh?" is all he said, his voice lighter than the Spy's, almost a croon.

Puck flushed at this, blinking back at them. "Yeah, you guys- you guys don't lynch me when cleared, you listen to me," he explained, wondering how feeble his reasons sounded, though he grinned again - he knew it was more than that, more than he had wanted to admit. "It's good."

The Jan leaned back in his chair, observing Puck from under his hat, and the Spy just reached into his pocket and lit another cigarette, lifting it to his lips. Dragging and exhaling, he just looked at Puck. "Yeah, I'm sure we can treat you real nice," he replied, a smirk coming across his features as his eyes glinted.

And this is the story of how puck died. they didnt kill him. dont worry.

sry for my sin