My Friend Over the Phone

Chapter 42

    Cross, Dust and Killer followed the violet spirit to... well, none of them were sure where they were going. But Cross was convinced that it was trying to lead him somewhere. "Ughh, where the hell are we going?? I'm tired." XChara complained. As if he wasn't 'asleep' since their Nightmare...passed. Cross knows how he's been feeling lately, and even if he didn't, he himself isn't in the mood to be snarky back. "I don't know," he responded out loud. The others didn't bat en eye socket. In fact, they both looked a bit relieved Cross was talking to XChara again.

    They were floating from island to island in the Doodle Sphere. The place had turned into a mess without Ink looking after it. The normally white and beige area had turned black and red. A faint smell of what reminds everyone of a fried computer, and a light layer of dust coated the air. There weren't nearly as many islands now as there were weeks before, making it more difficult to know where they are, or to go anywhere else. Ink might've disappeared, but the three of them were still weary of traversing the Doodlesphere out in the open.

    It was both calming and worrying for the trio when the spirit led them away from the other islands, going towards a lone one far out in the now not-so-nicely-decorated void. The island consisted of nothing but a wooden cabin next to a mountain of rocks. The place looked fine on the outside, but if one were to peer through the windows, everything inside was broken and tattered, like a rabid animal was able to get inside. The rocks next to it look like they used to house a pond and waterfall, but the water inside has dried out, leaving behind green algae and dead fish and lily pads. Every now and then, a bird flew towards the house, only to crash into one of the windows, twitching on the dead, browned grass before going limp and turning into a small pile of dust.

    Once the three of them landed on the island, the spirit let go of Cross' arm and frantically rammed itself against the doors and windows, trying to find a way inside. Cross reached out for XChara's powers to summon an oversized red knife, slicing an X shape through the front door. The spirit flew inside, stopping to wait for the three of them. Cross turned to them. "C'mon," he said to them, following the spirit inside. Killer and Dust looked at each other, uncertain, before steeling their nerves and following their friend inside.

    The house had many doors and paintings down each and every hallway, lining the walls and even the ceiling. The doors would sometimes disappear or move to another place, or the painting frames would suddenly be empty or the things inside would move when they weren't looking. It was dark inside, even with the phone flashlight Killer turned on, with no light switch anywhere. The normally light brown planks that made up the floor were mostly covered in some black substance, the bigger splotches dragging in any small things littering the floor nearby.

    Nonetheless, they blindly followed the spirit, hoping it knew where it was going.

    It suddenly stopped at the end of the hallway. It waved around, seeming confused, yet still frantic. After a moment of nothing, Killer mumbled angrily under his breath, "Great, what now? Ink could return at any moment and snap our necks, but sure, let's just sit here!" Dust elbowed him in the side. "Your super-loud muttering isn't exactly helping us, genius." He put an arm around Killer, "Calm down, everything's going to be fine. If that artist does show up, we'll kick his ass."

    Meanwhile, Cross inspected the hallway, wondering if they were missing something. The spirit appeared to do the same, appearing in several corners and next to paintings large enough to possibly be a secret entrance of sorts. It's light fluctuated as it did so. Cross looked up upon realizing he didn't see it anymore. The spirit reappeared after a moment of him having a panic attack. The spirit seemed more disheveled than he felt for the few seconds he realized Nightmare might've left him, but the way the spirit made an attempt to comfort him anyway by rubbing its 'face' against his collarbone made him remember that Nightmare would never do that. He smiled at it, bringing his hand up to it and rubbing the top of it with his thumb as he kneeled down and inspected the ground. Pulling back the red-and-blue rug lining the corridor, Cross noticed a hinge, that was attached to a very-well-hidden trap door. "Guys, come here! There's a hidden door under this rug!" Cross exclaimed. Killer and Dust rushed over. "Oh damn," Killer commented.

    "What do you think's down there?" Dust asked.

    "I don't know," Cross replied, "but whatever it is, Night..the spirit is going nuts over it."

    Killer raised a hand to his face, looking at the door with an emotion Cross couldn't describe. "...Do you think it's Dream?"

    "It's certainly possible," Dust said. "Ink probably isn't here right now, and - according to everyone who's seen him since his little freak-out who describes him as 'incredibly unhinged' - keeping the barriers preventing us from locating this place and Nightmare from detecting anything in here probably isn't his first priority at the moment."

    Killer smiled manically. "If he really did kidnap Dream like I'm suspecting, I'll be sure to break every bone in his body the next time I see him."

    Cross sighed, really hoping that wasn't the case. "Well, there's only one way to find out."

    He tugged on the circular piece of metal that sufficed as a doorknob, both relieved and dreading that it opened. There was a set of stairs spiralling downwards with no visible end to it, the stairs themselves dimly lit by torches wielding flames of an almost unnatural yellow. The three of them climbed their way down, the spirit floating behind. It seemed anxious to get somewhere, but it didn't seem to know which direction to bolt off in, even though there was only really one way to go. "Okay, I'm glad that actually opened to reveal something spooky," Killer spoke, "it would have been extremely anticlimactic if it didn't, or it led to a room filled with puppies and rainbows or something." He laughed, but the noise was hollow. Dust and Cross could tell Killer was trying to lighten the mood, either for himself or for them(likely both), so they laughed along with him.

    It was refreshing to hear Killer shit-talking an enemy base, even when their lives were probably in danger. It meant that he was at least getting back to be his old self again.

    They snuck down the stairs, just in case there was some kind of guard below. It was dead silent, apart from their quieted breathing and magic forming weapons in their grasp. Cells lined the walls, most of which were empty(even if the darkened, red stains on the floor near the opposing wall said it was once otherwise). They were about to give up and leave when they heard a voice heaving in air that wasn't any of their own.

    Killer ran towards the noise, his friends chasing after him, in case it was the owner of this cabin. But no, it was who Killer hoped it was: Dream. However, the Guardian wasn't in good condition. He was laying on the concrete floor of his cell, facing away from the bars and backed against the opposing wall. His clothes were tattered, showing scarred and bruised bone beneath it. Killer couldn't get a good view of his face, but the rest of his skull was cracked in a way that reminded him of when Nightmare got punched by the artist that did this. Dream was heaving in heavy breaths, his chest shakily and painfully expanding as he did. He broke into a coughing fit as he exhaled, shaking Killer out of his thoughts. "Dream! Are you okay?? Can you hear me??" Killer teleported inside the cell, helping Dream sit up. He didn't respond for a while, blood dribbling down his chin as he continued coughing. The Guardian's hands dug into Killer's arms, as if he was suddenly going to be ripped away from him. "i... will be alright," Dream whispered, leaning onto Killer.

"don't go..."

"I won't. I promise. Let's go home, okay?"

"..okay.."

    The violet spirit circled the Guardian worriedly, his golden eye lights fuzzily following them. "n-nightmare? what happened to you..? where's your body..?" Dream held out his hands, his gloves ripped in several places and leaving exposed the broken and bruised bone underneath. The spirit rested in his cupped hands, flickering slightly. "i know you don't want to feed off of our negativity... but you need it.. please take care of yourself, we all forgive you..." The spirit didn't seem to respond, but it's flames began to darken. That seemed to satisfy Dream, his eye sockets drooping. He passed out in Killer's arms.

    The spirit looks to have gotten bigger, flames a deep violet as opposed to a faded lavender. It floated with more presence, and there looked to be little white eyes on it. They blinked at Killer, before almost awkwardly nuzzling his cheek. Killer snorted. "Aww, thanks for trying to reassure me, boss," the 'but I don't need it now that I know you and Dream are okay' was left unsaid.

    Killer turned to his friends, teleporting himself and Dream back outside of the cell. Nightmare sped back towards Cross, the latter looking to be on the verge of tears, now that it was confirmed that the spirit was indeed his fiancé. "C'mon guys, let's get out of here."