alone. (dreamnotfound)

18

tw- blood and gore (skip to "tw over" if you can't handle those things.)

dreams pov

he grabbed his same pocket knife he used for cutting lines into georges arm out of his pocket and ran up to wilbur.

he lunged at the taller male, catching him off guard causing him to flop over onto the ground.

"hey, clay. nice to finally see you again. but not for long," wilbur said, giving a side smile while holding dream off him with his arms in an x form.

"not for long your ass, wilbur. i'm not going anywhere. but you are. you're going straight to hell when i fucking kill you." dream said, pushing down on wilbur's crossed arms, causing him to heave out a sigh of disbelief.

"what? there something wrong with me about to kill your ass?" he said, pushing harder onto wilbur's chest.

"obviously," wilbur started before pushing himself up and knocking dream down. "i'm not going to let you get away without me murdering you in front your boyfriend." he said standing up, towering over dream who was still on the ground.

"like i've said before," dream starts, lifting himself off the ground to wilbur's level "i'm a fucking serial killer. people have tried many times to kill me, but has that worked? nope. obviously not since i'm still here."

"well it's going to work this time." wilbur announced, running up to dream while holding his knife out in front of his chest, aiming for dream's.

george pov

dream quickly turned around and gave george a wink, their code for him to run out of the building and somewhere else. george getting butterflies at the wink dream just gave him, runs towards the doors at an attempt to open them only to be met with them being locked.

"how can a brunette be so dumb? i thought the saying was 'dumb blonde' not 'dumb brunette.' did you really think you could get away, georgie?" george cringed at the name his mother called him, but instead coming out of wilbur's mouth.

"i'm not dumb, you're just smart." george tried snapping back, making wilbur lightly laugh.

"oh yea, that totally makes sense." wilbur looked back at dream, his smiley face mask staring right back at him.

all of a sudden, wilbur rips the mask off. now he's really staring into dream's eyes.

"how's that feel, lover boy? don't want me to see your beaten up face?" wilbur laughed.

"it's not beaten up dumb fuck." dream replied lowly, unfortunately wilbur still heard it.

"yet" wilbur retorted, grabbing out his knife and slits dream's throat. enough to where it doesn't fully kill him but enough to where there's blood pooling out.

(jesus christ. i don't fucking know if i'll be able to write all this gore and shit- but it has to go along with the story so i kinda have to in order to finish it skdjnc)

dream let out a cry of pain and small tears started forming in his eyes.

george didn't want to watch. he wanted to escape. he wanted out of the same room with two killers, one of them his lover and the other an actual psychotic killer with no god damn feelings.

he quickly looked around the room, trying to avoid looking at the scene in front of him. his eyes landed on the back door of the store leading outside into the alley dream found him in.

he swiftly, yet quietly walked over to the back door. trying his best to walk behind the stands with candies and shelves with candles on them, he eventually made it.

but he felt a hand wrap around his neck before he could open the door.

"it's you or your lover boy, george. which will it be?" wilbur said, holding a knife against george's neck.

"GEORGE JUST LEAVE ME! ILL BE FINE, I PROMISE." dream tries reassuring to george, not being so successful since the brunette could hardly hear him.

wilbur turns around and adjusts george to face dream laid on the floor, neck split open, not all the way though, blood slowly spilling out onto the cold hard tile floor.

"what a lovely sight to see, innit george?" wilbur says, smiling. not just any regular smile but the same psychotic smile that's been plastered on his face before.

george remembers something. quackity taught him how to defend himself in situations like this. (i know i didn't mention this earlier in the story but quackity taught george how to defend himself back in the old dungeon)

(also don't attack me for getting the forms and shit wrong- i don't fucking know how to defend myself-)

george throws his head back into wilburs face, hearing a something snap.

just what he was wanting. he broke wilbur's nose with the amount of force he put into throwing his head back.

wilbur released his grip and help his hand up to his nose, blood running down it.

"what the hell george. didn't know you were capable of doing that." wilbur says, still looking at his hand covered with blood.

"there's a lot you don't know i'm capable of doing," george replies.

at this point, george runs up to dream and quickly gives him a little peck on a spot on his cheek that wasn't covered in blood and ran back to where the back door is.

wilbur still being the side-tracked psycho he is, forgets about george and doesn't notice him run out the door.

tw over btw

925 words
a/n... sorry haha...ha.......