Your Worst Nightmare

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How did you end up like this?

You were kneeling, hands chained behind your back with magic restraints, making you slump forward uncomfortably. You feel disgusted by the bloody and dirty cell you’re in, even more so as a small mouse patters across the floor. You are a bit upset too, considering that your clothing was ripped and you were injured.

That was your favorite tunic...

You refrain from moving as every move jostles your broken bones and makes more marrow run down your jaw and cheeks. You want to scratch the area, the marrow’s slow movement tickling your face. Now you just needed to wait for your boys to come get you; you scowl, feeling helpless.

You vow to deduce Ink to a torso and skull.

You inwardly frown as your tendrils lay limp, unable to move after you were injected with something, they were also slightly melting. You can’t help but shiver as well, the damp, still coldness seeping into your bones through your ripped clothes. Your broken jaw hangs limp as it aches, though it seems wrong after having it fused together for so long, and prevents you from making too much sound or facial expression.

One thing was for sure, Ink was thorough in his torture methods, though it was nothing compared to the pain that you had been through before.

You know Ink will be back eventually, probably to bring you to an interrogation room of some kind. You find it funny that even you, the so called bad guy, treats his prisoners better than Ink does. You guess it’s the perks of having a soul and being capable of compassion.

You straighten up as much as you can when the door creaks open, though instead of Ink, it’s Color that comes through. When he sees you, his face distorts into an ugly and disgusted expression. You almost laugh but stop as you remember your mandible, you still find it in yourself to enjoy the feast of guilt and disgust he presents.

“i was coming to get you for questioning but-” he cuts himself off with a wince, “i don’t think you’ll be doing much talking with a broken mandible”, his tone would make you smile in other situations but instead you roll your eyelight and stand, your loose and broken bones clacking against one another. You make a noise akin to a huff of exasperation and nod to him, intending him to just take you so you can get it over with.

He hesitates but gets the messege, taking your bound hands and nudging you forward, you don’t bother trying to run, even as he briefly lets you go to send a text to someone before continuing. You grunt though, knowing you wouldn’t make it far, even if you tried. Your energy was being taken from you as your black tar tried it’s best to heal you without as much magic as usual.

As soon as you’re able to control your tendrils, you’re going to stab someone.

You’re brought into a grey room, seemingly made from concrete, with a metal table with two chairs. Just like a normal interrogation room from all those PI movies you used to watch. Color tells you to sit in the chair that faces the wall with reflective glass and you simply do it, the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can go to the dreamscape.

Then Ink walks in with Red from Underfell by his side, you should’ve known he’d betray you, that bastard. Ink smirks in your direction but you ignore him in favor of glaring at Red. You realize that your jaw is almost healed, your goop slowly covering your other injuries as well, you flex your jaw to test the pain. It’s not gone but you find it bearable.

You find your respect for Ink higher than what you have for Red at the moment. “well, lookie here, a fucking rat” you say calmly, though rage bubbled in your soul. Red avoids your harsh glare and Ink steps in front of him, “now, now, nightmare. red has told us of your base coordinates, you really shouldn’t make any rash decisions” he threatens.

You laugh, ending it with a slight cough, “as if!!” you exclaim, “only the inner circle knows of my real base, the one red has been to is merely a cover base!” you shout, laughing giddily as Red pales. Ink frowns angrily, “then tell us where the real one is and no one has to get hurt”,you contrast his frown with a wide sadistic grin, “what you think i’d be so kind as to offer up real information after what you did to my brother?” you question rhetorically.

Ink’s frown grows deeper but you still fail to sense his feelings, “you are, after all, a liar” you start, looking into Ink’s eyelights, “after all, why would a soulless being care about wheather or not others that no one seems to like are causing trouble”, Ink snarls and you laugh. “i don’t fear you, there is a very small list of things that cause me terror, for i have peered into the worst nightmares and found glee”, your grin turns into a smile.

“what i will tell you is that i know what you and everyone on your side fears, i know your darkest secrets, because you dream of them and feel so negatively” you say, sparing the glass a single glance, Ink goes to speak but you cut him off before he can get a syllable out, “after all, my more official title is nightmare; keeper of nightmares and guardian of negativity”, you look down.

“there was once a time, long ago, that i was kind to any being that crossed my path, i showed compassion and even love but not everyone in my home au was so appreciative” you reveal, “they made me what i am today, and you know what, i wouldn’t change it for anything”, you can feel your own resolve.

“i won’t lie though, you have made me very angry, hurting the one i call brother”, Red looks curious and you feel more confusion beyond the glass. Laughing, you state “his title is very similar to my own, except it is the very opposite”, the face Ink makes is laughable. “dream, keeper of dreams and guardian of positivity”, you start, “i was going to give blue back with no hesitation, i have no use for him being at my base, you, however, thought it necessary to capture and beat my brother” you state sternly, a frown present on your face.

“and that has caused both my and your current situation” you say, a smile blooming on your face. “what situation?” a voice you identify as Outer sounds from speakers above you, you chuckle lowly as you stand, hands uncuffed and tendrils writhing behind you with renewed vigour.

“your worst nightmare...”



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