Tainted Perception | Wilbur Soot Angst (ORIGINAL)

Revival

TW: death, blood, restraints

A/N: Ayyyy, this is it! The last chapter! (no epilogue this time)

PS: If this is confusing, don't worry, I'm gonna put an explanation after the last A/N

 Wilbur woke up slowly, fear trickling into his senses as he took in his surroundings. He was in a warehouse, the space big and empty. Dark. A heart rate monitor beeping steadily in the background. Taking a shaky breath, the man tried not to think about the restraints holding his arms and legs down, the wires snaking around the cot he was attached to. He would be fine.

"You're awake!" Wilbur flinched. He knew that voice. "I- I've been waiting, you know? This- this is exciting, right? It's- it's so exciting!" The man didn't answer, breaths quickening as the blond stepped into his view. "I- I know that- that last time it didn't go how I planned it, but- but that's okay! We- we have another chance, now! It's- it's perfect!"

Wilbur swallowed thickly. He couldn't remember how he got here. How did he get here? Why couldn't he remember?

"I know- I know what you're thinking. 'It didn't work last time, why should it work now?'" That in fact, hadn't been what Wilbur was thinking. "But- but, I have it figured out, now. So- so you're just gonna have to trust me, okay?" The man walked over to the computer, smiling. "It'll only hurt a little."

Wilbur screamed.

-

The blond watched, intrigued, as Wilbur thrashed on the cot. He probably should have gagged him, now that he thought about it. He was being quite loud. Too late for that now, he supposed.

Turning back to the computer, the man waited patiently for the bar to fill up. It was so close. So, so, so close.

And then it was done. Wilbur's screams quieted. The blond smiled. Walking back over to the cot, the man held up a syringe, checking it one last time. It was perfect.

"Thank you," he whispered, inserting the needle with a practiced precision. "You did so well."

The beeping flatlined.

-

"Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" The blond sighed, turning slowly, his hands raising. People ran over to him, taking his arms behind his back. He didn't resist, still smiling.

"He- he's dead," someone said, their voice stunned. "He- he killed him." The blond didn't react, staring innocently at who he presumed to be the captain. After all, he did nothing wrong, did he?

-

Wilbur sighed as he walked back and forth across the empty platform, his fingers tracing the wall as he closed his eyes, the sweet lull of sleep hovering over him like forbidden fruit. He was like Tantalus, a character in one of the stories Techno always told. Cursed to exist for all eternity, reaching for the sustenance he craved, but wasn't allowed to have.

Scoffing, Wilbur picked at the scab on the side of his hand, a wound that hadn't yet healed from the time he had spent banging on the walls, hoping for... he didn't even know what. An out? It was a bit late for that. Shaking his head, he refocused his efforts, drawing in a sharp breath as his nails finally broke skin.

Frowning as the blood dripped down his arm, he quickly dipped one of his fingers in it, using the crimson substance to draw a line on the wall. Adding one more tally to the hundreds, maybe thousands, that now occupied the concrete around him. He wasn't quite sure what he was marking. There was no true way to tell time, the sun hiding its face away, too good for the loney inhabitant of the afterlife.

Well, Tommy had been there a couple months ago. At least that was his rough estimate. Though it didn't really matter, did it? Time was meaningless if this was where he was going to spend eternity. Scoffing, he let his gaze travel over the red covered wall. It was beautiful, in a way. A bloody mosaic recounting his existence here, in this train station. Alone.

He ignored the tears that pricked at his eyes. He had spent enough time crying.

Suddenly, a noise filled his ears. Loud and imposing. A train horn. Wilbur's breath caught in his throat.

Turning slowly, the man watched silently as the vehicle pulled in, the doors sliding open smoothly. And then a figure stepped out, eyes steaming and hands covered with blue. The doors didn't close.

Stepping forward, Wilbur hesitated, his gaze traveling over the landscape that had been his limbo for thirteen and a half years.

The doors closed behind him. 

Tada! Like I said in the last chapter's A/N, over the next couple weeks I'm going to edit, rewrite, and delete unnecessary chapters (everything deleted will go in my extras book "o/"), as over the course of the writing process I lost a lot of motivation, and therefore kind of lost the plot, hence the sudden ending. Hopefully the editing process will make this story a bit more readable (as the story is over 100 pages and most of it is filler). 

Also, now that this story is (mostly) done, I will be starting a one shot book that will be open to requests now! Though I will prob not write anything for it 'til editing for this is done. But, you can request now, if you'd like, more info is on the story itself :D (it is titled "Mhm | MCYT Oneshots").

EXPLANATION: Wilbur last chapter kinda had a breakdown, and "the blond" (who was the person who made the whole Dream SMP story in the first place) used that to capture him again. He then put him back in that reality, and killed him to keep it permanent. Phil (off screen) found out Wilbur was gone and called the police, the police found the kidnapper in the warehouse with now dead Wilbur. It then switches to Wilbur in limbo, where it shows him getting on the train, where it is implied he is revived. The figure he passes is Ghostbur.

If you have any other questions, just ask and I will do my very best to answer them! This entire story was kind of a mess so a lot of things kinda got brushed over lmao!