Manipulated, Bloodthirsty, Dead, Insane

Chapter II

Hello, I was feeling non-existent so here's a reminder of my existence and that I am also writing this because Pit threatened to not give me the credit I deserve. - Demon

Tommy woke up crying in his bed, he assumed Wilbur had carried him home last night, after...

Tommy remembered why there were tears flowing from his eyes.

Choking back a sob, he stumbled downstairs, fervently hoping he could dismiss what happened last night was all a dream- a nightmare. But when he got downstairs, there was no Phil. Nobody but Wilbur, sitting seemingly oblivious to the world around him. Numb from shock.

Anything holding Tommy back from breaking down disappeared on the spot. Tears started falling again and they just wouldn't stop. Finally Wilbur noticed, his expression bleak and emotionless as he turned towards Tommy. His face was covered in tear stains, his brown eyes were now dull, despite having been so full of life just the day before. That is until...

"Couldn't sleep?" The younger nodded, desperately trying to cast the memory out of his mind. He slowly stumbled forward, seeking comfort in his older brother, burying his head into his shoulder. Wilbur wrapped his arms around the younger, Tommy clung to him as if he would disappear if he let go. The warmth coming off Wilbur was comforting, helping him to calm down slightly.

Wilbur froze when the door creaked open. He'd locked the door, he was sure of it, but now he was on edge, simultaneously making Tommy nervous.

"Who's there?" He called out, pulling away from Tommy so that he could grab his sword. He heard shuffling in the hallway, slowly edging closer until he heard the reply.

"Just me Wil, just me," Techno called, stepping into the lounge (sitting room or whatever you Americans call it). His hands were bloodied, clutching his sword in one while the other hung limp at his side. Blood was everywhere, actually.

"Are you okay Techy?" Tommy asked, still partially behind his older brother, peeking out nervously.

"Do I look okay?" Techno snapped, the brief spurt of anger soon disappearing in place of crushing grief. He looked away. "I'm going to clean up, you should probably go to bed Tommy." The blond looked up at Wil, but his focus was on Techno, who was leaving a trail of blood behind himself as he trudged upstairs, presumably to the bathroom. He noticed a large wound around Techno's eye, but the blood covered the majority of it, so he couldn't tell how bad it is.

"Techno's right, you should probably go to bed," Wilbur said, smiling as he looked down at Tommy and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Seeya." He was still smiling, but the second Tommy left the room, it was replaced by a​​ painfully numb expression as he looked towards the door.

"He's not dead." There was an edge of certainty to his voice. "He wouldn't just die, he couldn't. It's impossible." Rubbing his eyes, he walked through to the kitchen. He could've sworn he saw Phil there, but when he blinked, he was gone. Why would he be there? It was 3am. Why was he awake at this time?

He remembered why.

But it was just a cop-out, right? Just a thing designed to scare everyone - they wouldn't actually kill him, right? Nobody would do that. Nobody would kill an innocent person just to scare a few people, nobody would be that cruel.

They didn't actually kill him, right?

"Hey... Wil?" Quickly turning around, he caught sight of his older twin, smiling as they locked gazes.

"Yeah Techno?" he asked, looking away before it got too awkward.

"...Will you help me with my braid?" Caught off guard, Wilbur nodded, sitting on one of the wooden seats surrounding the table, with Techno soon taking a seat in front. He gently pulled the ribbon at the bottom of his hair, resting it on the table as he began to undo the messy braid, all while trying his best to comb through it with his fingers.

"Where do you keep your hairbrush?" Wilbur asked, pausing the process despite only being about halfway through.

"Umm... It's probably in my room - do you want me to grab it?"

"Not yet, I just think I'll need to brush it once it's completely out," Wilbur explained, trying not to let his thoughts get sidetracked. He unconsciously started humming as he worked, only noticing once Techno pointed it out.

"What song is that?" he asked, making Wilbur jump slightly as he pulled the hair apart and looked about quickly.

"Just a song - do you mind getting the hairbrush now?" Techno nodded, starting to walk before stopping and turning to face Wilbur.

"You've got a nice voice." He turned away, not wanting to see Wilbur's reaction as he continued to walk to his room. He quickly grabbed the hairbrush and a pair of scissors, dashing away before it could reawaken any memories of-

"Back," he stated, slipping into the chair and putting the equipment on the table. Wilbur grabbed the hairbrush and started to gently glide it through Techno's hair. Once he was done, he parted it into 3 sections and secured them as he began to actually braid the hair. Techno's hair fell down to his hip when it was loose, but lost a few inches when it was tied up, which was pretty much always.

Wilbur fastened the end of it with the ribbon, stepping back and looking at the poorly done plait. It wasn't nearly as good as Phil's-you could probably even describe it as sad- but that didn't matter. Phil could do it again later. Because he was alive, well and coming back home.

Techno took a deep breath, turning towards Wilbur.

"Now cut it off."

"What?" Wilbur must've looked horrified because Techno hesitated for a moment before repeating the command.

"Cut it off."

"Wh- How much?

"Up to about here." He gestured roughly to his ear. Wilbur would've normally refused because he knew that he could not cut hair for his life and Philza would not be pleased about the outcome. Philza wasn't here so there was no real reason to object. But he would come back. He had to.

Hesitantly grabbing the scissors, he raised them to Techno's hair.

The braid fell onto the floor, messy and frayed. His hair was now more stereotypically "boyish", so much so that if the hair wasn't pink, Wilbur wouldn't recognise it as the same person.

"Thank you," Techno whispered, offering him a half-smile. Wilbur reciprocated it, his eyes trailing back to the new haircut. Upon second glance... It looked awful. It didn't look like... Techno. Everyone changed at some point, he supposed. That wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"No problem," Wilbur said quietly, tidying up the hair and throwing it into the bin. Techno was gone by the time he was finished, probably having gone to his room. Leaving just Wilbur again.

But it would be fine. It would all be fine in the morning, right? Phil would be back to make breakfast and everything would be fine. Not just fine, great!

I mean, it couldn't exactly get worse, could it?