i glanced at the clock that ticked seconds by as if it were nothing. but time was such a precious thing, it meant the whole universe. it meant life and death. It was everything. and it was me.
i valued every second of my time as if it were my last. it's quite ironic, actually. for someone who values time so much, i have quite a lot of it. too much of it. and i wish that i didn't. i wish that i could finally rest in peace. but i can't.
i squinted my eyes as i glanced out of the window of my room. the sun was just starting to rise and cover the sky in a red and orange tint. i hopped out of bed and looked around the room. i'd just woken up here so i didn't really have a clue to where i was. taking in my surroundings, i noticed a desk with a set of clothes on it and a note. how convenient.
i took the note in my hand and read the beautifully precise cursive handwriting:
this is a gift from niki, eret, my son, and i for helping save my son's life. meet at the caravan.
- wilbur soot
wilbur? the brown-haired man from before? i thought he hated my guts. not thought. i'm sure he hated my guts. what does he want me?
i set the note down beside the set of clothes on the desk and quickly get dressed. compared to my old clothes-a dirty white shirt and ripped up shorts-this was a thousand times better. it was a white shirt, brown sweatpants that barely went above my ankles, and black boots. it was a perfect fit.
i smiled out of satisfaction-grabbed the note and stuffed it in the right pocket of my sweatpants-then went out the door into the fresh morning air. my eyes widened immediately at my surroundings.
black obsidian walls with yellow crosses surrounding the green grassy land. In the middle, a van. it was truly beautiful,
my smile widened. i walked toward the van and stopped at the front door, my hand held up about to knock on the door. why was i hesitating?
maybe i shouldn't reveal myself. if that smiley-masked guy wanted to kill me then how can i trust any of these guys. i closed my eyes and took a deep breath until a familiar voice spoke.
"what are you doing?" he asked. i opened my eyes to the familiar voice and let my hand drop.
"wilbur-" i mumbled. guess i'm stuck here.
"yeah... that's me. come in." he turned and walked back into the van. i hesitantly followed him in and looked around. it was pretty regular, maybe even bland looking, but the one thing that stood out to me was the multiple brewing stands lined up on the shelves of the van.
"so. what was it you wanted to talk about?" i asked breaking the silence. he turned to me and crossed his arms. oh god. shit is 'bout to go down. he stared me down from across the table and sighed.
"who are you?" he asked in a calm-but curious-tone. i would have joked around, maybe even played a little, get him annoyed. but the gravity of the room-van? don't know-told me that i should probably take this seriously.
that still doesn't mean i trust him to tell him. how would i even tell him, anyway. what-"i'm immortal and have lived for eons but don't remember my own name"-? that would make me sound insane. i am not insane.
i stood puzzled as he waited for my answer. he probably figured out at one point that i didn't have an answer because after a unnecessarily long wait, he sighed-again.
"so you don't know who you are, or where you came from." he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "how do i know your not gonna go around killing my citizens?"
"is that what this is about?" i asked, bewildered. he thinks i'm gonna go around killing people-his citizens he calls them-for no reason? "why the hell would i do that?"
"i don't know! it's not like i know anything about you!"
i stared at him in total disbelief and leaned into the table. "i think i'd better make myself clear. i'm not gonna go around killing anybody without a reason. if i do kill someone, it's there fault," i said and relaxed a little. "Besides, I literally saved your fox friend. And you wouldn't want to imagine what torture I went through because of that."
Suddenly, it seemed like his whole demeanor changed the second I mentioned torture.
"Wait, hold on. Did you say torture?" He looked at me with a shocked---like really shocked---expression on his face. I just nodded---maybe even a bit nonchalantly. His eyes went wide.
"Why do you look so shocked? Torture is pretty normal." That's when I realized.
What's todays date?
"You mean to tell me that you were tortured because of... me?" He muttered and I could practically hear the guilt in his voice.
I sighed. "Don't beat yourself up about it. Besides, I'm the one who volunteered myself." I gave him a reassuring look. He sighed.
"Well, actually, I have a question," he said. I nodded for him to continue. "How the fuck are you alive? I clearly saw Dream slit your throat."
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. How am I supposed to answer him? I can't tell him about my being immortal, I can't say I had healing potions.
I shrugged and turned to the window of the caravan. "So,what is this place?" I asked, curiously.
"Your avoiding the question, " he said rather matter-of-factly and from the very corner of my eye---in my peripheral vision---I could see his piercing glare. I could basically feel it piercing straight through me. The most terrifying glare I'd seen---I'd felt---in a really longtime.
I blinked a few times and turned to him with a serious---yet tired---expression. Serious to address the question. Tired and in need of rest. I said, "I'm avoiding it for a reason, Wilbur."
"Why? What are you hiding?" He interrogated even further. I stopped and directed a menacing gaze at him, that made him flinch for sure. Good.
"Your really pushing it." I gritted my teeth and watched his expression change from fear to curiosity. One day that curiosity would kill him. Just how long till that happens? I sighed and calm myself. "I'm leaving. I have a feeling I'll need to be ready for a few things."
Wilbur didn't speak, instead he just watched me leave the van without another word of protest. Hopefully he learned something.
