~•Talking to the moon•~

Chapter Three

Third person's view

A person started pacing around their room again in constant boredom, just being finished with his food which consisted of a potato.

It wasn't enough to satisfy anyone, but if you're stuck in prison like this, it's better to be grateful rather than anything.

The person sat down in one corner of his cell, it being the constant routine he had to do every single day. Either that or he'd write about anything that came into his mind that couldn't be considered as an evil thought or part of his plan. He hummed and looked at the papers that laid on the floor, still seeing the unfamiliar writings that laid permanently on the white parchment.

It was rare for him not to remember something like this, but it wasn't rare for him to look for a distraction just for a second then forget about it after a few minutes of doing it.

It proved to be a great stress reliever and a nuisance, especially at times like these where all his thoughts need to be completely gathered. However, it seemed like his thoughts like to scramble away from him at times. Certainly felt like it after looking at all the other segments of words he wrote. It almost felt like he wasn't the one to write those at all. Did he truly know himself then?

Of course he does, now isn't the time to doubt himself. It will lead to his downfall of he doesn't even trust himself.

He sighed out and looked at the one block of water across from him, glaring at it as if it did something wrong to him. Personally, it didn't and it quite helped him lots of times, but right now, he needed someone's company, not a block of water that doesn't even respond to anything he asked of it.

Truthfully, he knew he messed up a whole lot when he wanted power so badly, but he's already sacrificed a lot to go back now. And besides, why come back when even your friends turned their backs towards you? Two of his friends have already visited him and they both changed for the worse, even when he didn't do anything to change them in that way.

Well, except Sapnap's, of course. He was the sole reason of why he turned like that and he must admit, he was a bit guilty seeing him so broken and torn because of him, but honestly? He would be lying if he said he didn't expect it.

He wanted that to happen to him after all, if he didn't, it will only hurt the both of them. He'd be considered as a threat to the others and they might take advantage of it. So, he just did it himself, tearing away from all of his friends to keep himself stable and on top without anyone dragging him down.

Luckily for him, no one was going to bother him today as Quackity just finished with his daily torture session he saved up for him. It was weird how Sam didn't even bother stopping him just once when he stopped Tommy from getting Ghostbur and all that. Maybe it's because he also wanted him dead. He didn't doubt it. Almost everyone in the smp does anyways.

One way or another, he'd be able to escape this place. He always did managed to squeeze his way out of situations like these before so he was certain he still can until now. He just has to wait for the right moment.

His fingers started tapping on the obsidian ground, hearing the small echoing taps that came after his finger touched the ground. It was, funnily enough, relaxing to hear and it helped time go faster with every second that passed. The sound comforted him and he started humming a small tune he remembers from the outside world. It was something he never wanted to let go off as he had many memories with it.

The light that came from the lava that trapped him inside reflected on his face that littered with both freckles and scars, almost mistaking him from someone who just went through the whole process of necromancy in just a second. It was almost fitting as he did kill himself just for the power that he thirsted over for in the few months his smp stood.

If he could turn back time, he'd do it all over again. Everything was just exhilarating to come back to and he would honestly want to see those scared faces all over and over again. He could continue with scaring everyone, manipulating them until everyone goes against each other to break them all apart without him exerting that much effort. It was something he was used to doing and it worked perfectly well everytime he used it.

He sighed out as the lava suddenly parted away from his entrance, making him stand up, brow cocked up in confusion as he looks through the small space that wasn't blocked.

Sapnap was on the other side, looking like the same old man that he remembered. Nothing much changed from him. His eyes were glaring at him as he stepped on the platform and waited for it to move towards the prisoner that waited for him as well.

'What was he doing here?'

As the blocks in front of him finally went down, his old friend stepped forwards to him, the cold expression on his face completely said that he wasn't here to talk about memories that he burnt away forever.

If you're not here to reminisce, what are you doing here?

"Killing Tommy was something, but reviving Wilbur is the last straw." was what his friend told him. He only let out a noise of confusion as he looked at him, completely confused about what he was talking about. Did word spread that fast?

The first time his friend went here, he refused to talk to him verbally, only using a book to communicate with him as he didn't want to break down. Sapnap was a big part of his life and cutting him off was very difficult.

It had to be done, however.

"Dream."

"Sapnap. Just say it already." He muttered out, not wanting to keep himself waiting any longer.

"You're never going to step foot out of this prison alive ever again."

"I already knew that." He scoffed out as he crossed his arms, getting kicked on the leg harshly, making him grunt out before kneeling down on the floor.

"I mean it this time. Everything would be like medieval times all over again."

"You get me?"

"No, I don't." He seriously does not.

Before it clicked.