"Moon, Moon, oh dear Moon, why are you letting me down like that? I'm your servant, I'm here to bring you up, to help you reach your goals and dreams... why are you breaking me like a toy and manipulating me like a doll? What did I do to you, Oh my love, for you to punish me like that? Give me the reasons you are torturing me, and if I really messed up, I'll gladly accept the hatred you are feeling toward me.
Talk to me, give me your words, explain me, or am I not deserving even the slightest answer that kept torturing me...
Oh Moon, broken Moon... I tried to help you pick up your broken memories, hoping you would just be yourself again... The one you hate for his weakness but you also love for his normality and uncorruption... the times when your body ached from time to time and not perpetually, when your soul would show any normal emotions, and when you could still love and care...
Moon, sweet Moon... I am tired and sorry...
Please, Nightmare... I beg you...
I had a surprise for you..."
Those were the last words written on a messy paper from an old journal. Killer was missing for weeks and they only just discovered the journal in the missing's bedroom.
Nightmare was infuriated of the disappearance of his favorite toy, anger that faded down when he read the paper Dust was handing him. He knew Killer had a certain talent to write beautiful texts, but this one felt like a stake in his soul. Killer used to, sometimes, write short peotic texts to him to cheer him up or even flirt with him. Only him knew the romantic side of the opened soul killer. Anger rose again when he understood they have read this personal note. Only him should have seen this...
The negative raised his head to Dust, Horror, Cross and even Error was here, all staring at him.
"You may have something to tell us?" asked Dust.
"Like what??"
"Oh I don't know, the seemingly toxic relationship you have with Kills."
"I have nothing to say y'all"
"My id3a !s, h3 fleD yoU. YOu ar3 the R3asoN he l3fT."
"And why would he fled if he loved me?"
'If you are torturing him and tormenting him like he wrote... my guess would be his soul." Said Dust.
"And mine would be pregnancy. I know what a pregnant skeleton looks like."
