The Rancid Streets Of Brooklyn (DreamSMP au)

Lost Memories

When I heard my door open, I whipped my head around. I could see a pair of glowing eyes dart around the room and hear the sounds of claws scraping the wallpaper as they searched for a light switch. I should have disabled the switch a while ago, I had no reason for it. Dad respected my privacy, and I could see in the dark. 

The floor creaked as heavy footsteps brought the figure farther away from the door and further down the wall. I stayed silent and still not converted his attention to me. That also meant that I couldn't wipe the snot dripping from my nose or the hot tears streaming down my cocoa-colored cheeks.  

The sharp click caused me to jump, I quickly covered my eyes as the blinding white light came on. A single lightbulb in the ceiling was all that Dad had bothered to install, and I was glad. Any more light would have surely melted off my eyes. I hissed at him as he made eye contact with me.

"What are you doing in my room?" I said, staring him down.

I could see my reflection in the mirror through one of my six eyes. I looked hideous, hideous enough to scare him, maybe. I had black markings covering my brown skin, and sharp fangs peeked out from the sides of my mouth. My clothes were relatively clean, that was only because Ms. Puffy made sure that I was washing them.

He looked more visually repulsed the longer he looked at me, so his eyes darted around my room, the walls dirty with grime and the thick webs that coated the corners of the room along with my beds Cleaning was for pussies, that's what Dad always said and Dad was never wrong.

"H-hey Shroud," he stuttered, he took in another gulp as he looked at the water-stained ceiling. "Is there something going on with you and Micheal?" he asked taking a step forward. He immediately stepped back as dozens of spiders skittered from their hiding places.

"If there was, it's none of your business," I responded. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose into my handkerchief. Fuck that bitch and fuck that bitches new dad. 

"You can trust me, I'm your uncle after all," he smiled and walked over to my bed, grimacing every time a crunch sounded from beneath his shoes.

Who did this guy think he was? Coming into my room without my permission, and then claimed to be my uncle. He was killing my spiders for christ's sake. The only Family I have is Dad, Uncle Tubbo and Ms. Puffy. That's all I'll ever need, I don't need some self-obsessed bougie to come in here and walk around like he owns the place. I don't like him, Dad doesn't like him. Why is he even here? I know why he was here, he's with the blues. He's working with the people who made Dad sad. He tricked Uncle Tubbo.

"I can't trust you..." I said pushing myself off the other side of the bed. I reached for the knife I kept on my bedside.

"I know you bleed blue," 

He gave me a confused look and took another step forward. A mistake. He backed away when he realized what I was holding.

"Calm down kid!" he said raising his voice. "I haven't done anything!" he backed away until his back was to the door. Dumb move, all blues were dumb. Why would someone's first thought in a fight be to corner yourself? I never got that, there is nothing behind him but a wall.

"I shouldn't tell you but, nobody likes you." I smiled, the song was more than two decades old. Not much had changed since then.

I raised the knife at him, holding the handle at the tips of my fingers. I couldn't have successfully attacked him if I tried but he seemed shaken. That would have to do. 

"Get. Out." I repeated glaring at him. I made sure that all six of my eyes turned to look at him. I added a small hiss at the end just to get him jumpy. He swallowed hard and I could see purple particles flying frantically around him. He has Vitiligo for sure, his skin had patches of caramel and white and he wore an elaborate gold crown atop his head. His hair was dyed half black and half white and he wore clothes that were the same colors. He nervously shifted his blood-red tie and turned to open the door. I didn't stop him and he slipped out, having to bend over to fit through the doorway.