Lost

Where Am I? (Prologue)

Wilbur's POV

Wilbur stares at Quackity's grave for the last time, and sighs.
"I'm gonna miss you, Q," he says. A single tear runs down his face.
He sits down next to the grave. "Today I'm moving out. Today I'm going to live with someone called Skeppy, Techno's friend, and it'll all be good and-"
Wilbur's voice breaks.
"I'll... I'll miss you. I don't think I can ever love again. Just you. You are all that I need, but I- I failed, I failed to protect you, and now I'm suffering the consequences. Well, both of us. I'd say you got the worst of it, huh?"
He smiles weakly.
"I'll- uh, I'll be off, then. Bye."
He gets up.
"I love you. Please... God, please remember that."

Wilbur walks away, leaving the mansion empty and still, remnants of what used to be. It used to be home to a thriving family, to the most feared vampires in the world, but now it is simply a shell of what it once was.
"It was never meant to be," Wilbur murmurs to himself, looking at the grandiose building with remorse.
He pulls out the map that Techno gave him to Skeppy's place- it'll take at least two hours on foot, but that he can deal with. He's got stamina.
He takes one last, reproachful look at the distant grave before disappearing into the forest to where Techno's waiting for him with an impatient expression on his face.
"Bye, Q."

Quackity's POV

His eye opens, but he's wondering if he's gone blind or something, because he can't see anything. Everything is black, and he seems to be trapped in a cold box.
It feels wooden, but he's not focused on what it's made out of, he's focused on how to get out of the goddamn thing.
Quackity's nails are long, so he scrabbles and scratches at the top of the box, which he's now come to realise is a coffin, yet it doesn't work.
He sees no other option than to punch it until a hole forms, so he does that thing exactly.
Once he's out of this wretched box, he'll focus on figuring out why he was in it in the first place.

Quackity punches the box, wincing at the impact, but it doesn't budge.
Another punch- a splinter forms and a little bit of soil makes its way into the coffin.
Quackity feels relief wash over him. He's going to get out of here, he knows it, and he knows he's close, so he continues on punching the coffin, ignoring the sharp spikes of pain that come from each punch.
The wood splinters each time until there's a fairly large hole in it. A hole big enough for Quackity to fit in it.
The problem is, dirt is slowly filling up the coffin.

Quackity panics and digs upwards until he can fit, then digs even more. Soon enough, he's covered completely in dirt- engulfed in it, even- and is absolutely panicking even more. He digs up, up, up, until he's convinced himself that he'll never get out of this place, earth fills his mouth, he's really feeling hopeless, he needs to get out...

Air.
Fresh air.
His hand gets through first and he follows suit, spitting out the dirt and retching.
Quackity hoists himself out of the hole, and he's messy as fuck.
His clothes are dirty, stained with soil and whatever else is inhabiting it, and he dusts himself off.
He takes a moment to sit down on the 'grave' and think about what's happened.
He can't remember anything. He can vaguely feel a pain in the lower part of his stomach, and he knows it was an axe, but his memory of this injury is blurred.
He can't remember why whoever injured him did it, and who injured him.
But he can make out someone- a man- through the fog of his mind, someone that was always there with him, someone who loves him.
Or loved him.

He could almost cry. He doesn't remember who it is.
Somewhere out there, there's a person who loves him more than anything in the world, and he doesn't fucking know who it is.
He vaguely remembers a trench coat and a white streak in the brown hair of this person, but that's nothing to go on. Anyone can wear a trench coat. Plenty of people have white streaks in their hair.
Still, he feels so goddamn useless. He doesn't know who it is.
Whoever it is must be heartbroken.
Quackity is determined to find them.

Where to start? he thinks to himself. The mansion looms, silent and eerie, above him.
That, then.
He hesitantly enters, expecting someone to jump out from the shadows and attack him, but nothing happens.
The place has a deserted, eerie sort of aura, and the gothic style in which it has been built in only magnifies this aura.
"Hello?" he calls out.
Nothing.
Quackity starts to explore all around this place, and when he passes a certain spot on the first floor where two golden feathers lay, he gets a sickening sense of deja vu.
He checks his back.
Golden wings.
Well, a golden wing- the second has only grown a little, it's about halfway there to its full size, but still.
You get what he means.
He's been here before, he knows it, because who else would those golden feathers belong to? And now he has to figure out what happened to make this place so deserted.

A letter catches his eye. It's been discarded on the table, apparently of no use to this house's previous occupants, but he's interested in what it might say.
Quackity crosses the room and picks it up.
The letter reads:

Dear Technoblade,
I have considered your offer of having another person living in my (large and lonely) house, and have gratefully accepted.
Am I correct in the knowledge that this person is named Wilbur Soot, more famously known as the Musician?
Anyway, I would be honoured to have such an infamous vampire living with me.
I should really not tell you this, but I was having an affair with a male vampire hunter (scandalous, I'm aware) but said hunter has now sadly died, so I've been alone in my house.
I would be very grateful for the (platonic) company, and I will also help Soot with his grief, since I have been informed he has lost a partner recently, something which I can relate to on a personal level, so I am also hoping it can help me with my grief as well as helping him with his.
Thank you for your letter, and I am looking forward to meeting this Wilbur Soot.
Please find a map to my house enclosed.
Regards,
Skeppy

Quackity puts down the letter, finding no map enclosed.
Whoever Technoblade is, he must have taken it before discarding this letter.
Wilbur Soot.

Where has he heard that name before?

It triggers something in his heart that hurts, and the words vampire hunter also trigger a memory.
A memory of, he assumes, a few months ago, maybe half a year, featuring him and another vampire hunter he remembers is called Dream, both sad about something.
He remembers being on a rooftop and crying about the death of two people he'd held close, but their names and images are blurry.
He knows one of their names starts with S, but it's hard to pinpoint the name.
To get to the truth of what's happened to him, he needs to find this Wilbur Soot.

But how?
He has to find Skeppy, the man Soot is staying with.
Quackity composes himself and walks straight out of the house, determined to find Skeppy, then Wilbur Soot, to get to the truth.