ՙՙ𓈒 ֗ ∿ Our Limbo 🖋️໑

1 ; A false sense of Reality.

Wilbur's eyes slowly darted around the field he was in. He didn't know why he was in one nor how it felt.. familiar in a way, he just knew he died and showed up here. He looked down at his chest to see he was in his old clothes and there was no scar, not a single bit of damage on these clothes. That's,, odd. He thought that his clothes would of been ripped pretty bad after Phil killed him, even if they were his old clothes.

Was this Heaven of sorts? If it was,, why was he here? He's committed multiple crimes which should probably land him in hell, not some pretty field that could be heaven. He shook his head, he should just be happy he got into heaven. Though.. he didn't know ‘heaven’ would feel so familiar and close to something he had already known.

He slowly started walking around the vast plain, spotting some small details that he felt even more familiar to his soul, but he ignored them because every damn detail in this field felt oh so familiar and that was weirding him out a lot. It was just a random field, how would it feel familiar to him of all people? He scoffed to himself as he kept wandering the field, only stopping when he was in front of a tree.

He stared at it for a moment, it was a yew tree. Commonly found in grave yards and commonly symbolized as the tree which means death. He actually learnt that from Phil, he didn't know why Phil knew what it meant but the small fact has stuck with him ever since. It didn't do much for him though, as L'manburg never really had yew trees nor did the SMP. He did know there was one in the garden of his childhood home.

Phil really liked the trees for some odd reason, sure they looked pretty but even so it's reputation wasn't the best and visitors often gave weird glares to the tree once they arrived, like that would do anything to the tree. Wilbur placed one of his hands on the bark and started tracing over some patterns he had noticed on it. As he did this he found himself circling around the tree, which he didn't really mind in all honesty.

Then his attention drifted over to something carved into the bark of the large tree.. He glared at it before realizing what exactly it said; ‘< W + S 3’. Huh,, this field belongs to a couple or something? He laughed at that thought, what couple would claim a field to be their spot? You'd think they'd choose somewhere romantic or something. He shook his head slightly in disbelief, not even realizing that it was his initial, the W that is.

His glance lingered on the carving, it seemed again; familiar to his soul, or heart, he couldn't tell which one at this point. His hand softly traced over the carving multiple times, it was like he was trying to remember why it felt so familiar. Yet he couldn't. He tried to search his mind, though nothing made itself known to him. Like his memories were refusing to let him remember his past or why he may he know this field.

He let out a sigh of frustration as he turned away from the tree, letting himself sit on the ground and lean his back on it instead of looking at the thing that made him question things more. It was getting annoying seeing things that felt familiar yet he'd never once seen in his life. It was making him highly frustrated, he just wanted to know why this field was oddly familiar.

Overall, it was depressing that he couldn't remember something that seemed so important to him. He desired just to know what the field means to him, but his memories weren't having it. They refused to let him remember. He started scratching his hand out of the frustration he felt, he just wanted to know why he was here and why he couldn't fucking remember.

His frustration was starting to make him feel miserable, he felt his emotions all slowly exploding and letting themselves known to the field. It made him feel vulnerable, like a child who couldn't take no for an answer and started throwing a fit. He despised the way he felt like that. He felt so childish for crying from his frustration,, so idiotic. He just couldn't help it. He was stuck in a familiar place that he couldn't remember. He was stuck in a large, open field which now that he thought about it closely; was fucking horrifying.

It made him break.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he was still harshly scratching at his hand, one would say that would make the situation worse but to the brit it helped him calm down. He felt a,, warm? cold? neutral embrace take him, the person's hands delicate and soft, being so gentle with him.. it felt nice to have someone hold him, his eyes were blurred from the tears so he didn't see how was holding him, but he could just about make out that it was a woman.

He shut his eyes as his body relaxed, he felt so safe now, someone else was there. He wasn't alone, he was fine. That really calmed the man down, he heard the woman speak, though he could hardly hear her for some reason. Her voice was soft, calming; it almost put him to sleep there and then. He didn't even care what she was possibly saying to him, he just knew he was close to falling asleep.

That was until he heard something that made him shiver; “They can hear us, wake up.”

He felt the gentle embrace slowly disappear, he only felt coldness now. He didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to see that he was alone. But he opened his eyes anyways, seeing a train in front of him. “What.?” he mumbled under his breath, his eyes darted around at lightning speed, he was so confused and scared.

Tears were still streaming his face as he looked around with a worried face. “What in the fuck.. where am I..” he sat up properly as he stared at his hands, one was bleeding while the nails on his other hand had blood on them. It wasn't a dream? He stared at his hands for awhile before looking around again, his attention was focused onto the train that was just,, there. Should he go over to it?

No. No, that's stupid. Curiousity will just make him feel worse about this... hellhole? He always thought hell was a pit of fire and lava, filled with different shades of red, not a train station. He actually imagined hell to be beautiful in its own way, a place full of blazing heat, not a damp, dull and freezing stone prison.

He honestly would prefer the hell where he would get burned alive then be here.