DreamSMP Works - Dream-centric

Shadow of a Thought

Where Dreamon has been inhabiting Dream since the very start and slowly gains more influence and control over Dream (basically from this thread: https://twitter.com/vnzndt/status/1347650582023008256?s=20). Written: February 2, 2021. Word count: 4.4k.

I gradually realized that I was gradually building my own au world.

Like the other story, this one also starts with Cornelius. It's a really long read, and shows as Dream spirals... and spirals... and spirals....

tw // murder, gore

Cornelius seemed like a happy child. He was always cheerful, never let anyone down with his village duties and was a bright spot in everyone's lives. He was also skillful and strong, as well as clever and quick in his ways.

No one suspected.

Cornelius was always plagued by a dark thought, a shadow in the back of his mind. As he grew older and witnessed more, it seemed to... grow. The townspeople found that their sweet child had grown into a serious teenager, and then a tired man.

He had nightmares one night.

He was in his village, and he held a long knife in his hand. His other one was occupied by a slip of paper.

He was going to Connor's house. Connor? What's he doing going to Connor's this late in the night?

He was opening the door. Then he- 

A crimson sheen splattered on his hand: the one that was holding the ancient iron knife. There wasn't a scream. Not a single noise, save for the smooth and silent drop of a dagger into Connor's oh so soft neck.

He looked up to see the Mayor at the door. He was smiling, and nodding his approval.

Cornelius woke up with a jolt and a sweat. In the day, he found that everyone was still alive.

That night after Cornelius fell asleep, the story continued. The townsmen had found Connor, buried him, and convicted the Mayor for the crime. They were close to putting Robin in the prison.

That night, Cornelius received another slip of paper. He was holding the iron knife again, and was heading towards Robin. He was entering the doorway. He was swift and silent as he stabbed the weapon into Robin's stomach. It felt surprisingly easy.

Cornelius blinked his eyes open rapidly, heart pounding. His brother, Cattt, loomed over his prone body in his bed, asking if he was alright. He nodded. No one had died that night- he checked during the day.

This night, he dreamt that the townspeople had found Robin alive but injured. Robin was a healer, and had used the herbs he had gathered that day to somehow save himself.

Helga was cast out.

The next night, in his next nightmare, he thankfully didn't kill anyone.

But they were suspicious of him, and Jack.

He couldn't defend himself. He couldn't think of anything.

They sent him to the prison.

Cornelius's eyes fluttered open. He- where was he?

He was in the familiar forest that surrounded the Village. He recognized some of the oak trees, and that birch one, he- why was he outside of the Village?

He was wearing his usual attire: a mottled green cloak that had a large hood, with a sharpened stone chopping axe attached to his back. A belt held a dagger and a flask of water, and another smaller knife was tucked into his short brown leather boots.