Dream SMP Oneshots

ilomilo [ghostbur angst]

Ghostbur was alone. 

Ghostbur was very, very cold. 

Ghostbur did not know where he was. 

He did know, however, that he was in pain. Something wet seeped into his back and arms, sizzling and hissing at the skin. Ghostbur jumped up from the ground, biting back a yelp as the damp part of his sweater clung to his skin and burned away more of the skin there. 

Ghostbur shivered, wrapping his arms around his midsection to ward off the winter chill, only to irritate the scar in his back and let his arms hang limp instead. Ghostbur looked around the clearing he was in again, searching his mind for any information on how he even got here or where he was. 

As always, he came up empty. 

Ghostbur shivered again, deciding that the best course of action was to try and find his way out of the woods so he could get a better view of the surrounding tundra. 

He stepped delicately through the snow, flinching with every step that caused more melted snow to seep through his shoes and melt the bottoms of his feet. Ghostbur was obviously unprepared for the weather, which only made him wonder again why he was all alone in the middle of a tundra, in the middle of winter. 

It didn't matter. He would find his way out of the tundra, and maybe visit Techno or Tommy. They seemed sad a lot lately, he should bring them some blue. 

A glimpse of a memory falshed through his mind. 

Don't deliver those invitations. And don't come back. Tommy never needed you anyways. An axe, levelled against his throat. Go do us all a favor and walk off into the snow or something. 

But before he could focus on it too quickly, it was gone again, and he was unable to bring it back. Trying to find a specific memories was like sticking your hand into a river and trying to catch one drop of oil that had been dropped in a hundred miles upstream. 

Ghostbur shook his head. He needed to stay positive, he couldn't dwell on bad memories. He needed to make good ones, so that when everyone else became ghosts like him, they would have plenty of good memories to look back on. 

(Unlike him, who was forced to rely on the sick satisfaction of metal ripping through his chest and little glimpses of a childhood to fill the achingly empty hole in his heart)

He shook away the thought again. He couldn't be sad. If he was sad, he'd forget.

He did not want to forget again. 

So Ghostbur trudged through the heavy snow, ignoring the constant sting of water on his skin and the scar in his chest that never seemed to stop hurting and that he never seemed to get used to. He walked for hours, until the sky went dark. 

Until the water building up in his shoes seeped into his legs and his ankles, dissolving them completely. 

Ghostbur slumped to the ground, flinching in anticipation before he even hit the snow. A quiet gasp escaped from his mouth as the water ate away at him, burning and dissolving even more skin. 

Worst of all, he was beginning to cry. 

Silent tears dripped down his face. He was so, so cold. He wanted Techno, wanted Tommy. he wanted Phil. 

And as the snow and the tears and the scar in his chest all burned and tore away at his skin, he felt himself begin to forget. 

Because that's how it worked. Bad memories were erased, the time he dropped an anvil on his foot, the time he fell off the prime path, all the times someone had (shoved him against the obsidian walls around L'Manberg and told him to stay far, far away from Tommy or he would break both of them until there was nothing left) were as insubstantial as the wind. 

He knew that if he was crying, then lying in the snow as his skin melted off was probably a bad memory. He knew it would be erased. 

Ghostbur grit his teeth, helplessly attempting to pull himself into a sitting position before the faint grasp he had on his mind slipped away, but the palms of his hands were covered in water and half-charred skin that burned whenever he tried to push off the snow. 

In his last moments of awareness before the wipe, he thought of Phil. 

Ghostbur opened his eyes, and found himself sitting down as snow burned into his legs and hands. He stared quizzically at them for a moment, then stood. 

Ghostbur did not know where he was,

Ghostbur was very, very cold. 

Ghostbur was alone.