GK999, The New Dream SMP Member

Oh Prime (Tommyinnt)

This is not very good lol.

Tws: Angst, flashbacks to the prison, mentions of blood and violence

Words: 2,200

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His last sleep had been comforting and refreshing, nothing like the rest that he was normally able to achieve back home. It had been a nice break, a few minutes of calm before the same old whining song started up again. So it was no surprise when this time, as Tommy tried to sleep, his mind was plagued with worries. Of course, they didn't keep him up forever (or even long at all), but they were so very there that it didn't make much of a difference how long they were there for. And plus, what he was met with after his eyes finally shut was not much better at all.

First he had to deal with the worries from the day (from the person following them to the monsters of the night), and second he just had to flash through memories. Those he wasn't sure if these flashbacks were because of the several close calls they all had entertained throughout the day (a creeper blowing Stitcher down to two hearts, Herder and his wolves falling into a dark ravine), or because of Digger's earlier mentions of being followed, he wasn't a big fan of them. In the darkness of the dirt building, Tommy could faintly hear the crackling of lava, and the combination of the terrified dark with the sound of such a frightening object wasn't ideal. It reminded him of the prison. (And worse, what had happened there.)

Of course, it hadn't been dark in the prison (in fact, the lava had made it fairly bright), but the way that it had felt... he shivered, that had been dark. (Where his thoughts had gone, the way that the red of his blood shone on the obsidian floor, all of that had been the shade of the darkest End sky.) Not to mention the dark end that he had found there, of course, it hadn't really been the end, but by the way that limbo still seeped into his brain... it could be considered a sort of one.

Eventually however, he managed to shut his eyes, and though this did little to deter the memories, flashbacks, and fears, it did much for the speed at which he made it into the dreamworld. But as he stood there, turning slowly in the misty monochrome of his dream, he realized that he knew he was dreaming. Now, that would have been strange enough on its own, but as Tommy thought about it harder, he also knew that he wasn't dreaming. Not fully anyway. (It was a strange feeling, and definitely one that could qualify with the stranger ones on his long list of strange feelings.)

He took a tentative step forward, eyes exploring the walls and pathways which surrounded him. It was a village for sure, but it was nothing like one that he would see back home. In fact, as he studied the perfect patterns adorning the windows of one building (cracks which copied perfectly from one to the next), and the smooth but cubular layout of the shadows, he recognised it as Crafter's village.

'What am I doing here?' He wondered, steps slowing and speeding up and then slowly again as he took in his surroundings, 'Why did I dream myself here?'

But just as the magical fog of dreaming began to set in on his mind, a door burst open to his left. He jumped and turned to face it, and was shocked to see a woman glaring angrily. (He didn't know her, he didn't know why she appeared to be glaring right at him, but he did have the distinct feeling that this was somehow real.)

"I'm sorry-" he started, scared that he had somehow trespassed into her property (despite being on the opposite side of the street), "-I didn't mean to-!" But before he could get further into his explanation, he was cut off by a cold wooosh of air through him.

He gasped and jumped, ready to whip around to see the source of the sudden cold, but not entirely surprised when he spotted a villager emerging in front of him. It was almost as if he had walked through him. He felt his blood run cold and reached out, testing a sudden theory... and pushed his arm right through the body of the villager.