That one time I woke up in prison

Chapter 8

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The boy in the red, yellow, and black mask strode in, immediately making his way over to the front desk to confront Sam.

"That's a Dreamon, no doubt about it." He told the warden simply, complete certainty in his tone.

The creeper hybrid looked up hurriedly, blinking as he processed Ponk's words.

"Wait, what?" he paused, "You mean the mask - Dream's mask?"

Ponk nodded, "I took a look at it and did some tests, like you asked. There's definitely a Dreamon latched to it."

"What- What's a Dreamon?" the creeper hybrid asked, feeling like he missed something big.

A voice from behind caught them off guard. " Dreamon? "

The warden's gaze flitted to the doorway of the prison entrance. A fox boy stood halfway inside, apprehensive as if he wasn't quite sure he heard them correctly.

"What are you doing here, Fundy?" Sam kept his voice cold, suspicious of the fox's sticky fingers.

"Chill, I was only coming here to talk to Q about his relationship issues," Fundy raised his hands in surrender, his tail flicking anxiously, "but then I heard talk of Dreamons."

"How much do you know about Dreamons?" the owner of the lemon tree piped up, seeing potential in the fox.

"Well it's been awhile," he shrugged, "but I can certainly bust out my Dreamon Hunter outfit; and I can get the group back together too."

"Dreamon Hunter?" the warden's eyes widened, "There's a whole group for this?"

"Yep. Tubbo runs it." The fox responded curtly.

"Tubbo-" the creeper hybrid sighed, shaking his head, "okay, that doesn't surprise me."

"Now, what started the talk of Dreamons anyway?" Fundy asked, tilting his head to eye Ponk and Sam tensely.

"Dream's mask has a Dreamon attached to it."

Immediately, Fundy's ears shot up and his eyes widened, "Dream? But that doesn't make sense; we already--" he cut himself off, realisation striking his features.

"Fundy? What's wrong?" the warden asked, concerned.

"No, nonono. That makes so much sense," he mumbled, looking down as his mind raced, "no wonder it didn't work; it wasn't attached specifically to him , it was attached to his mask !"

"Fundy, what are you talking about - what do you mean?" the creeper hybrid persisted, walking over to the fox.

"Ages ago - probably like six months ago or something - Tubbo and I discovered Dream was being affected by a Dreamon; it was probably there for a while too before we discovered it." The fox boy rambled a bit, trying to sum it up as best he could. "We went through the process; we talked to him a bit, we tried a few rituals, and even though there was a bit of a period where the Dreamon was trying to kill us, we did think we'd gotten rid of it.

"Unfortunately, it seems we were wrong. The ritual should've worked - however, as I just discovered, the Dreamon was attached to the mask , not Dream himself. That means the Dreamon must've been here the entire time."

"What are the side effects of exposure to Dreamons?" Sam found himself asking, his mouth dry.

"Well each Dreamon is a bit different, and they have different personalities with different goals and different side effects on the host, but there are some common ones," Fundy cleared his throat, "such as waking up with no memory of whatever the Dreamon has been doing with your body, taking on its personality - like being more prone to violence and anger issues - um, sometimes even boosting physical abilities like strength or a higher jump, and even possibly being completely ripped of consciousness or control for an extended period of time.

"Coming out of it is like a fever dream, from past victim reports. Depending on how long the Dreamon spends around its host or victim, its influence may be as big as complete possession with no input from the rightful owner of the body, or as small as simply making someone more aggressive or argument-prone."

The warden was silent for a bit, digesting this information.

What did this mean for Dream? What did this mean for literally everything that had happened over the last six months, and possibly even longer?

Wait. When Punz had dropped off the mask, they said Sapnap had kept it with him in the house for a while before his sibling found out.

What if that was how the argument happened? Not that it was particularly important in the grand scheme of events. However it still meant there was someone or multiple someones who were also influenced by the Dreamon.

That meant it was a threat, to anyone on the server.

The creeper hybrid turned to the boy with the red, yellow, and black mask, who'd been standing there silently taking in the information until then, "Where is the mask right now, Ponk?"

"In the lab. I was careful not to touch it too much as soon as I recognised it had some connection to a Dreamon. It's currently in a quarantine-sort of vault." he assured, relieving the warden of some stress.

The warden hummed in consideration, turning back to Fundy, "Alright, get your Dreamon Hunter group together; we need some more information on this, please."

The fox boy nodded quickly, and turned to leave, but paused for a second. "Wait, I still need to talk to Quackity; is he here?"

Shaking his head, he answered, "No, I think he's busy procrastinating on visiting Karl by working on his cow farm."

"Oh," Fundy dipped his head again, then made his way back out, running off to the cow farm first.

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He ducked behind a tree quickly, narrowly avoiding being spotted.

Normally, he wouldn't have to worry about this. At least, not in his usual tales. But this was in his current timeline, only slightly in the past.

Not to mention the people he was hiding from was the feral boys; himself included.

Being spotted would have to encompass a lovely explanation of how there were two Karls.

When the group passed him, the boy felt a knot in his throat.

They were laughing so happily. Cracking jokes and making fun of each other, just generally being chaotic; it wasn't something he was used to anymore. This was a past life for him - for most Karls, probably.

With a shaky breath, he checked to make sure he was in the clear before heading out from behind the tree. He decided to find a place to wait - he needed to talk to past Dream, alone. Maybe he should check out Dream's base before talking to him one-on-one.

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He found a book, something akin to a diary. Dream seemed to have written it.

The entries seemed normal enough, however there was something strange about certain pages. Some things were more detached, with a different writing style.

After a bit of flicking through pages, the time traveler realised when the first weird entry was.

Unfortunately, his reading was cut short by the sound of a trapdoor opening.

Karl realised a bit too late that maybe he shouldn't have started off the past encounter like this.

The masked boy had entered his secret base only to find one of his friends going through his stuff.

"Karl, what the hell are you doing?" the boy in the spiral jumper spun around at the voice, which caused the other's shock to increase, "Holy shit, are you okay? What happened?"

After a moment, the time traveler realised his new withering wound - which happened to cover about 90% of his face - would definitely hinder his ability to blend in as his past self. To be fair, it would make him stand out in literally any time period, but his multicoloured jumper usually had that covered already.

"Didn't you just walk off with Sap and Big Q? How the fuck did you get hurt like that, it's been seconds -" The green-hooded boy rambled, confusion lacing his features.

The time traveler waved him off, not caring to answer the questions, "I just need to ask you a few questions about your mask."

The masked boy put his hand up to touch the ivory plastic, taken aback by Karl's serious expression and cold exterior. "My mask?"

"Yep, the smiley one you're wearing right now," he confirmed, not beating around the bush, "where'd you get it?"

"I found it on one of my manhunts," Dream rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy, "it helped me bluff - they couldn't tell what my plans were - so I kinda just kept wearing it. Why?"

The green-hooded boy was ignored once more. "Did it do anything else?"

"Well..." he hesitated slightly, "you're going to think it's stupid, but I swear it helps me run a bit faster. And I made a jump yesterday that I don't think is actually possible normally."

Karl furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn't dispute the other's claims.

"Alright, definitely something to find out more about then," the time traveler mumbled to himself, before turning back to the masked boy, "I gotta go now - sorry about this, though."

"Sorry about what, Karl?" He barely had time to get the question out before a shovel smacked him upside the head.

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Karl stared at the green-hooded boy out cold on the ground.

"I can't believe I really just knocked out a sea pickle with Fundy's Long Shlong ," he muttered; he definitely would've facepalmed if it wouldn't have hurt like honk, "why is that the only weapon I have on me- What the honk has my life come to?"

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The time traveler stumbled, too out-of-it to even bother catching himself.

Luckily, there was someone else to do it for him.

The ex-prisoner reached out, letting the boy collapse against him.

"You good, Jacobs?" he didn't let his voice get too loud, just in case his companion had somehow just straight up passed out. The boy in the spiral jumper was almost limp in his arms, but he soon lifted his head.

"I'm fine, just a bit light headed," the boy's words were slurred and he couldn't keep his eyes open, almost constantly squinting through blurred vision.

The ex-prisoner's brow furrowed, "Do you want to take a nap, or rest a bit? You don't have to tell me about your trip right away."

The boy's once brightly-coloured jumper now seemed to have dulled a bit. There was still visible colour, but it was more subdued - shades of pastel or pale instead of their previous vividity. The spiral remained unaffected, however.

The time traveler waved him off carelessly, "No no, I'm good. I'll tell you what I found out."