𝚂𝚞𝚗 & 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 🌞🌜

Just Say That You Belong To Me-8-Aftermath

You were dreaming.

You knew you were dreaming- you somehow could always tell. But knowing you were dreaming didn't stop you from being absolutely terrified at what you saw.

You were on the Daycare floor again, flat on your back, like you had been the night before, but you were paralyzed; unable to move even to blink. Instead of Moon standing over you, it was Sun, his face etched into a leer that felt like it left second degree burns along your flesh. He was still holding the knife.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You were screaming, using the full force of your voice, but there was only silence and your aching lungs to show for it. One of Moon's lullabies was playing through Sun's music box, loud enough to be physically painful. You knew that it would drown you out even if you could scream, if you could will your vocal chords to move in a way that the rest of you couldn't.

Watching you scream, Sun slowly brought his arms to his face, in his usual self-soothing gesture. But his hands jerked when he did. Moon's crackling laugh weaved through the lullaby, making it glitch. Suddenly, they were fighting for control of the head, their faceplate flickering through what seemed to be their entire range of expressions, the metal sliding back and forth, revealing first yellow, then black. The red flickered in their eyes like a strobe light, on and off, the glare of the LED never once leaving your face. It felt like it was smothering you, warping reality through a red haze.

As you stared at him, still locked in your silent scream, the fighting got more intense. Two different colored hands, one blue and one yellow, tearing and clawing at the faceplate. Moon's hand tore off some of Sun's rays with the sound of screeching steel, and Sun's hands tried to force the black backplate to return into their head.

The lullaby hadn't stopped, and in fact got louder, and higher somehow, to a volume and pitch that would blow out concert speakers- the kind of volume that you could feel pounding in your stomach all the way out on the greens at a concert. You retched, just as silently, between screams that never seemed to stop or come to fruition. Were your ears bleeding? You couldn't tell.

As the sound reached a dizzying crescendo, bouncing off walls and mingling horrifically with the sound of the Daycare music, Sun and Moon froze. Abruptly, the song stopped.

Your ears were bleeding. They had soaked through your shirt.

The color leached out of their limbs, leaving nothing but plain grey silicone. The life in them faded, their eyes flickering once, twice, before dimming completely. Their faceplate gave a few more lazy turns before the crescent shaped side of the face they shared fell off, revealing only the plain half yellow half black portion underneath.

Their legs twisted grotesquely, the wrong ways, the metal knotting and breaking until they should by all rights have fallen out or stopped supporting the weight of their metal frames. Still they stood, dead silent, and when the legs stopped shifting, completely broken as well.

The music of the Daycare had stopped when the lullaby cut off, like it too was coming from them. Maybe it had. When the light had faded from them, it had faded from the Daycare too. Like two living things, both beyond the scope of your imagination, both much bigger than you. Almost more alive.

As you watched, soft grey covered the room. You couldn't tell what it was. Dust? Time never seemed to pass, but would you even know if it did? Maybe it was static, or snow, maybe something was playing tricks on you.

Suddenly there was a loud crack, and the room started collapsing around you, starting at the edges and crumbling inward until you were in the only circle of floor that remained.

Your eyes flicked back to Sun and Moon's empty ones.

You were going to die. They couldn't save you.

When the floor underneath you finally gave out, you felt your stomach fall first before the rest of you, as if your insides knew before you when it was time to give up the ghost.