Broken- DreamNotFound/ Gream

Chapter. 27

Day: 15

Life Count: 113

Wilbur:

He woke up to an arrow almost impaling him.

Fun.

He gave a little shriek of surprise, jumping back so the arrow thudded into the grass at his feet. He rubbed sleep from his eyes as he stared at the beautiful brightly colored feathers sticking from the dirt. There was something tied to the arrow, a scroll of paper wrapped with a string, neat flowing writing barely visible on the edge of the paper.

"What's this?" He glanced over at Jack Manifold, who reached down and pulled the message from the dirt. "It's either a horrible assassination attempt, or a message."

"It's a message, for you." Jack read through the paper, his eyes going wide as he reached the end, then he held it out for Wilbur. "You'd better read this. It's from Dream."

Wilbur felt a rush of surprise flash through him as he snatched the letter from Jack's hand and unfolded it. He nearly ripped the paper as his shaking hands smoothed it out, Dream's fine handwriting visible on the front.

Wilbur Soot.

I am willing to give myself up.

I'm done with watching you kill everyone I care about, and I want to stop the bloodshed before it gets any worse. You've murdered so many innocent people in cold blood, and I have watched everyone around me die. I don't want that to happen to anyone else.

I know what you did to Techno.

I'm going to stop this.

Take me and swear to never make a single move against another person in this game again. I will come willingly, and not harm you, as long as you arrive alone and unarmed, and I will do the same. I will meet you at sundown on the sixteenth day and turn myself over to your custody.

I won't even bother asking for a quick death.

Let this be the end of our conflict.

Signed, Dream.

Wilbur stared at the note in his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he read it again and again, gripping the scrap of parchment so hard that it tore at the edges. There was no mistaking Dream's elegant scrawl, and the careful yet rushed way that he wrote this.

Dream had actually surrendered.

"Get me a bow." Wilbur shouted back to Jack Manifold as he went back into his tent to grab paper and something to write with. "I'm going to send him my reply."

"Wil, what's happened?" Philza appeared behind him, hat on crooked as if he just woke up. "Are we being attacked? What's going on?"

"Phil, quite the opposite!" Wilbur turned to his father, a maniacal grin on his face, a sadistic look in his eyes as he gripped the blond man by the shoulders. "Dream just gave himself up, to save his pathetic friends! I... I actually have him this time, Phil, I'm really going to end him this time!"

"What?" Phil stumbled back, shoving his son's hands from his shoulders, looking horrified. "Dream's going to just... let himself die?"

"Yes! Don't you see, Phil?" Wilbur ignored the horror in his father's voice as he sat down and began scribbling a reply. "With him out of the way, the other group will be defenseless! Aren't you proud of me?"

Phil opened his mouth angrily for a reply, but Jack Manifold interrupted him, pushing into the tent. He had a gleaming bow in his hands, and a golden arrow already notched on the fine string. Wilbur snatched up the glowing weapon and tied his response to the end before running outside. He drew back the bowstring so far that the wood of the bow groaned, his fingers touching his nose.