Promised Land

[7] I Hate Goodbyes. They Hurt Too Much.

Unlike what most people seem to assume, dreamons do not eat only human flesh. It is the best sustenance for them, yes, in the way that a hearty steak is good for most humans.

It is not very good in the long-run. Humans may be prey, but humans are also a predator in their own rights. Their stamina and strength are all but equal to dreamons.

They are, for lack of better terms, equal.

So eating human flesh, while it is one of the best things for them to eat, it is not the most sustainable.

But they feast on other things.

Misery.

Suffering.

Magic. Energy.

Magic and misery, misery and magic, although fuel them a little less than the meat of a human body, fuel them enough to get going. Magical energy even moreso; when the human suffers on very little energy, it will cave in on itself. Making it easier to feast on misery.

Making it easier, perhaps, to eat the flesh. If a human is pushed far enough it can implode.

It is joyous to watch such an event, just like watching a star collapse in on itself.

It smells misery, coming from the brick building that the tall boy lives in. There are grand iron bars outside the window that it believes is where the tall boy sleeps at night.

It hears raucous laughter often, when it hides in the shadows of late afternoon. There are many children under this roof. All of them have bits of misery and suffering-- no family, alone, no family, orphan. Orphanage.

It doesn't know why it spends so much time hunting down prey when there was a feast sitting in front of it like this the entire time! Its stomach growls for misery it smells.

It needs to be a smart hunter. It needs to be smart.

It hides in the shadows and watches.

He tries to remember as much as he can of the past two weeks, but it's hard to when so much happens, especially when he has such a poor memory as he does.

But Ranboo writes it down. It's not the smartest, or the wisest, to write it all down. No younger children come into his rooms, but every now and then a sister will pop their head into his room and make sure it's clean and tidy, or to check on his studies, and make sure he's focused on what he needs to do. He can't write when one of them is in there.

He's.

He's afraid.

He's afraid of what the sisters will do with his journal. It's not a fear he's ever had to deal with-- anxiety about other kids finding it and reading it aloud and laughing, sure. But he's on his own in a single room that locks at night with a chair under the doorknob and a bell tied to a string above it that will certainly wake up at least one of the light-sleeping children in the hall.

He's afraid that they won't let him see his friends again.

But he has to write it down, anyway. For once, he's fervorous in writing down details of his life because for once he doesn't want to forget. He wants to remember so badly.

Tommy showed me the pendant again today. It doesn't get broken. His brother Techno makes it, with help from his dad, and it's made of light?? magic. It works at crossroads. What do crossroads mean?

Tubbo says that his family doesn't have a magic gift like he does. It happens sometimes, if magic is in the family tree, people do not have it and it can go on for years. He never knew he had magic until he met Tommy.