𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖓 {Wilbur Soot x Reader}

VI

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝔁
𝖞/𝖓'𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖛

⚔︎

The dark room was lit up only by small flames emitting from torches on the walls. The orange light made chests with names engraved on them clear. There was a small button in the middle of the room, which caused some confusion.

"What does this button do?" Tommy asked curiously. As Tommy stepped closer to the button, Eret stopped him.

"There's nothing in the chests," said Wilbur, looking muddled as he stepped away from the chest with his name on it. He looked over at the button and seemed to understand what was happening.

"Down with the revolution boys!" Eret shouted, slamming his hand down on the button. The walls opened up. Dream, Punz, George and Sapnap entered, each clad in netherite armor, each holding their weapons of choice.

Dream bolted to Wilbur, attacking him with his glowing purple axe. Wilbur, who bore no weapons nor armor, fell to the ground, trying to scrabble backwards. Meanwhile, Tommy was bleeding out on the ground with Sapnap standing above him.

Fundy stumbled over to me, barely able to stand on his own two feet, his bandages reddening as blood soaked them. Punz had slashed his leg near the same spot with his sword, and was now rushing towards the two of us with a bloody sword. He held it back, getting ready to strike at my face, but luckily I'd ducked. Fundy, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky.

He hadn't ducked behind me, causing the sword to slit his throat swiftly. I felt him fall to the ground beside me, his blood smearing over my hands as I held him. He coughed up a bit of blood before falling into the sweet sleep that is death.

Punz had moved on over to Tubbo, who had tried to stop him from attacking me. Tubbo stood in front of Tommy's body, quivering. He was cornered. Slice. I heard the sword cut deep into his torso, and watched him fall next to Tommy. But I had no time to ponder over their deaths, as a shadow loomed over me. I looked up and was met with an axe at my neck.

"Dream," I said wearily, staying where I knelt with Fundy bleeding on my lap. "What are you doing?"

Dream just seemed to smirk, then took his axe away from my neck, instead offering a hand. I tilted my head with a small smile, taking his hand and standing up. Dream pulled me into a hug, catching me by very obvious surprise. Dream leaned his head down to be next my ear, whispering, "Sorry."

The axe carved into my side, causing my legs to go limp. Dream held me up, an arm still wrapped around me. As my vision started to go blurry, Dream dropped me on the cold floor. My head hit the ground, and everything disappeared.

I woke up slowly, the pain in my side being almost completely gone. I rolled over, feeling soft sheets wrapped around my body. I opened my eyes reluctantly, taking in my surroundings. This wasn't my room.

I sat up in the warm bed, looking around to see if anyone else was in here with me. But I was alone. There was a door across the room from me, with a yellow sweater hanging on the handle. I slowly got up, my feet hitting the cold hard floor. I walked over to the door steadily.

I wrapped my hand around the door handle, the soft sweater feeling warm against my hand. Pulling open the door, I peeked around the corner, looking for anyone. Wilbur sat there in a chair in front of a desk, facing away from me. The sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up to the elbows. I saw on his wrist, there were two black lines, just below his hand.

The floor creaked as I stepped out of the small bedroom. Wilbur turned around, his brown eyes looking tired and beaten, dark circles bagging around them. He looked so fatigued.

"Morning," he smiled softly, his eyes meeting mine.

"Was that your room?" I asked quietly, glancing back at the closed door behind me.

"Uh, yeah," Wilbur answered, his face growing red. "Um, don't worry, I, um, I slept out here. How are you?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Well, seeing as I've just been killed, not great."

Wilbur chuckled, standing up. He walked past me and through to another room. I followed him, of course, being that I was curious to see what he was doing. I peeked around the doorframe, seeing the tall boy standing at a counter, two mugs in front of him.

"D'you want some tea?" he asked, not turning around. He opened the cupboard above him, taking out a small cardboard box.

"Um, sure," I answered wearily. I stepped closer to the counter to watch his actions. There was a kettle resting atop of a stove, blue flames lighting up underneath it.

You can't trust anyone. Even the person you thought was your best friend killed you.

I took a deep breath in, trying to control my mind. Wilbur must have noticed this, as he looked over at me as he put two teabags in the mugs. He put a warm hand on my bare arm, making me flinch a little, my hand going straight to where my sword would be. Only, of course, it wasn't there.

"Hey, calm down, you're safe here," Wilbur's voice was so soft, "I know you were friends with Dream. I know how much it hurts, but don't blame yourself."

"I'm not," I answered half-truthfully. I shouldn't have trusted Dream in the first place, but he just. . . there was something so welcoming about him. He made me feel happy, we laughed together, he helped me get all my stuff, including my netherite sword.

Surely, not all of that was fake?

How did I know I could trust anyone? Dream was my best friend and closest ally. What was I supposed to do now?