Broken- DreamNotFound/ Gream

Chapter. 32

Day/Night: Unknown

Life Count: Unknown

Dream:

He was done with life.

Was he even alive?

But if pain stopped after you die, shouldn't all of his agony end?

If so, he was probably, unfortunately, still living.

He didn't know if it was day or night, or how many people were still alive in this game, or if anyone even remembered him. It was so dark that he didn't know if his eyes were open or closed, the light slowly being sapped from him. He couldn't tell much, just that he was underground, his knees were pressed into the dirt, and that he couldn't move his hands. He also could tell that he was probably going to die soon enough if he didn't get out of here soon. He missed his mask, the feel of the smooth porcelain shielding his features from everyone, small white shards still imbedded in his face.

Maybe Wilbur was hoping he'd bleed to death.

It certainly looked like it.

He wouldn't mind death now, just to give up and end all of the pain now, let go and close his eyes forever. He was going to die sometime, Wilbur wouldn't want to keep him around for too long, to risk him escaping or anything. Why not just go now and get it all over with before he was agonizingly tortured, then slowly executed.

What about George?

What about him.

He'd be heartbroken.

He'd be fine.

He'd miss you.

He'd get over you.

What about your friends?

What about them.

They won't stand a chance against Wilbur.

Sure they would.

You know they wouldn't.

Shut up.

SHUT UP.

SHUT UP!

He took a deep breath in, pain shooting through his destroyed ribs as he tried to let out a small scream of pain from behind sealed lips. No one could ever hear him, Wilbur had made sure of it, keeping him locked away where nobody would find his broken and bleeding form. He didn't even know how bad he looked right now, but from the flicker of disgust that had crossed Sapnap's face with Wilbur was enough to know that he probably looked pretty messed up.

He was surprised they hadn't visited him recently.

It was funny, actually, how fast a friend could turn on you.

He'd thought Sapnap was his best friend, part of their team, always standing by their side for everything. If he was in the dark haired man's shoes, he didn't think he would have done that to his two happy friends. He didn't think he'd be the one to turn on them, take one of them and ruthlessly torture them for the rest of their short life.

This wasn't the Sapnap he knew.

This wasn't his best friend anymore.

Sapnap was dead.

He heard footsteps, shoes on dirt right in front of his prison, someone approaching the door to his cell. He braced himself for Wilbur's sing-song voice, the knives in his hands again, Sapnap standing at his shoulder. Half of him was hoping the brown haired man had come down here to finally kill him and put him out of his misery. A shaky hand tentatively pushed open the door, a head peeking around the corner, eyes widening as they saw him.