"Mind Of Their Own"

Chapter 4 - Odd Occasions

TW : bad skull injuries, de-realism(I think?), in-detail explanations of pain

-

Killer was currently fidgeting with his thumbs, a pit of anxiety in his chest. A hand was set on his shoulder and he looked over, flinching. He then calmed down.

Dust was standing behind him, a hand on his shoulder. Horror was standing behind him.

Killer sighed and leaned back as Dust sat down next to him.

"What's wrong, Kills?" Dust asked quietly as he grabbed his hand gently. Horror sat down beside Killer and rubbed his shoulder.

"I'm worried about boss." Killer frowned. "He's been missing for like, two days now. Error can't find him, Horror can't find him, Cross can't find him-- the best trackers the gang has."

Horror set his head on his, rubbing his arm gently. "I'm sure he'll be fine." He smiled slightly and Killer looked at him. "Come on, smile, for me?"

Killer gave an anxious smile and Horror gently rubbed his arm.

"That's better." Horror pat Killer's shoulder and let go.

Killer looked away and glanced at Dust. Dust huffed and kissed his neck suddenly.

"Dust.." Killer frowned as Dust pushed him onto Horror's lap.

"Shh, shhh, this is my way of getting you to calm down. Got it?" Dust shushed him gently before he kissed him again. "Boss will be fine. I promise."

Killer smiled a bit as Dust kissed his forehead.

Horror rubbed Killer's shoulders gently as Dust peppered his face with kisses. Killer felt like he was melting beneath them, sighing quietly with a smile.

"That's right, relax." Dust hummed. "Relaxed."

"C-Can you just hold me?" Killer murmured quietly.

Horror smiled and pulled Killer closer, rubbing his skull softly. "Of course, cherry."

"Besides, what could anyone do to boss? He's, like, negativity itself." Dust grinned. "Worst they could do is be overly cheery, and he's fine with us being happy so he's probably gotten used to it."

Killer gave a small smile. "Yeah, you're right. Nobody can do shit to boss."

Right?

...right?

-

Nightmare groaned. His head was pounding. It was painful, really painful. He opened his eye slightly and was startled.

Where was he?

He glanced down at himself. He was chained to a chair, yet the chains were... blue? They seemed to crackle with magic. That magic clicked in his head.

Positivity. Which answered his question of why he was here.

Dream wanted him for something. What that something was? Nightmare had no clue.

Unease ate away at his soul as he glanced over his shoulders at his tentacles, which were twitching and swaying slowly. Then they swarmed him with rubbing and caresses.

"Woah--" Nightmare flinched then winced as the positivity of the chains scraped against his wrists and ankles painfully. He let his tentacle coiled around him, curling and rubbing.

He sighed and tipped his head back, letting his tentacles do as they wished. He supposed they would be his comfort.

His vision was slightly blurry due to the positivity stinging his bones, yet he felt slightly safer with his tentacles. He didn't know what it was, but it was oddly comforting.

He closed his eye and gently rubbed the arms of the chair as his tentacles comforted him softly. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps and he flinched.

He looked up as he saw Ink walk in, eyelights red. Nightmare's tentacles sharpened at the tips threatening as he glared at the artist.

"My, my, you're still quite hostile. You were out like a light when Blue fetched you." Ink hummed. "You were falling asleep when he got in."

"What do you want?" Nightmare demanded as Ink circled him slowly.

"Oh, just for your gang to be a bit more vulnerable, your majesty." Ink's voice was dripping with sarcasm at the 'your majesty,' supposedly to mock Nightmare.

Nightmare hissed and squirmed, wincing at the sting.

"You know you can't do anything here." Ink whispered in his non-existent ear. Nightmare's tentacles twitched menacingly, swaying slowly as they poised at Ink's skull. All he had to do was nod then they could kill the artist. Well, assuming Ink could die. "You're helpless. Your tentacles can't do shit to me."

Nightmare gave a small nod and he heard a terrifying crack as Ink yelped.

Ink staggered back before dropping, hands groping the holes that now littered his skull and the cracks that blossomed from the new injuries. Nightmare's tentacles coiled around Nightmare as he glared at Ink, slightly sick at the sight.

Ink stumbled to his feet and left shakily, occasionally stopping so he wouldn't completely collapse. Nightmare watched him through a narrowed eye, scowling quietly.

He then began struggling again, hissing and squirming.

Fucking hell. He thought, scoffing. His tentacles squirmed slightly and he suddenly had an idea.

The thing about Dream's positivity chains, it wasn't. . . psychical. He just couldn't go through them because the goop that covered him.

So he could try something. But it was dangerous and would hurt like hell.

"See you on the other side.." he muttered. He felt a stinging pain trace up his body slowly as he squeezed his eye shut. His breathing picked up speed as he began trembling. Fuck, it hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

He sighed quietly and he felt the slime start to thin and drip. He opened his eye slightly. The blood was pounding in his non-existent ears, pain throbbing in his soul.

He saw odd visions fill his eye as he felt pain build on the other side of his face.

He began panting slightly before his vision flooded red. He tried to scream, but couldn't.

Why did he think this was a good idea?

Why did he think this was ever a good idea?

He saw odd visions, screaming faces and eyes staring at him. Hands reaching for him, pulling at his body. He began screaming and freaking out.

He soon started giggling and twitching, hands pulling at his clothes and bones. Tugging, pulling, tearing. He convulsed in the seat-- gasping, laughing, and screaming.

He felt his mouth twist into a wonky grin. He then saw nothing.

Blurry, undistinguished shapes. He groaned and lifted his hands.

His hands.

He could see his hands barely. White. Not chained down. He felt a jolt a joy followed by a bad headache.

He groaned and doubled over, falling off the chair as odd visions crowding his sight. His breathing picked up again. He forced himself to try and relax, trembling and panting heavily.

He sighed as his vision began to clear. He leaned back and just took a moment to relax.

"Fucking hell.." he whispered.