Challenges!!

NightMarch - Corruption

"yanno boss," Killer started, his empty stare on the whetstone he held, "ya sure do like talkin' to yourself a lot." He dragged the stone along the edge of his already razor-thin blade, sharpening it further.

Nightmare's corruption rippled. Killer was the boldest one out of his group. Speaking when unprompted, words unfiltered, poking and prodding where others feared to even look. The subject of Nightmare's aimless talking was one such thing. He had yet to be questioned.

He hadn't expected to be questioned. Control is slipping from your fingers. He had no response prepared, nothing to say that would put an end to the topic entirely. Put it in its place. Nightmare's eyelight flicked away. He blinked, silent, at the black tar that flowed endlessly across his body. It was stolen. His blackened fingers flexed. They are not yours. His eye narrowed. Silence. You command me no more than that witch did.

His mouth dropped into a frown, and he pulled his gaze away from his hands, shoving them into his pockets. Killer was already looking, his darkened eyes staring straight at Nightmare, waiting. Entitled freak. If only that childish whining would cease entirely. A moment of peace would be well appreciated. Karma. Nightmare sighed. "You have read the story, I am aware that you took my handwritten account of it. The knowledge you seek is already yours."

Killer scoffed. He ran the whetstone across the knife once again, far more aggressive than needed. "my memory's shit, i need a reminder anyway." How freely it uses its tongue. Rip it out. I tire of its insolent voice. Nightmare clenched his fingers. He felt rather tired of someone's voice as well. "..you're doin' it again."

Nightmare startled. "Pardon." Killer jerked his chin up, flipping his weapon carelessly between his fingers to point the tip at his own right eyesocket. Nightmare stiffened, tentacles curling slowly. One slip up and the fool would've blinded itself. Pity that it didn't happen.

Killer's rough voice stole away his attention before he could snap at the child. "ya get this look in your eye. like duster does, when he's chattin' with his bro. y'get all distant 'n stuff." The knife spun again, Killer twisting his fingers around it expertly, and held it out, pointing at Nightmare. "you got a bro, boss? a ghost hauntin ya?"

Nightmare couldn't tear his eye away from the pointed tip of the blade. How often did Killer watch him? How long does he spend observing and learning? How much time did he waste, to know so much about Nightmare? Why does it even care for you?

"boss?"

Perhaps it's searching for a weak point. Any sane monster would. Killer is not sane. What about Killer implies sanity? Perhaps that's the issue, then. Perhaps. Nightmare met Killer's stare once more, even and cool as he responded. "What purpose would that serve you to know?" Gathering intel is a delicate process. Killer shrugged, unfaltering. His expression gave nothing away, nor did his voice. Calm and steady. "what purpose does it serve you to keep it secret?"

Freak. "I suppose that is fair." Silver tongued scum. That was hardly a 'silver tongued' response. It lacks any sort of wits. Your creation lacked wits. Childish. Your insults lack wit as well.

"what's it tell ya? When it talks? what kinda ghost is it?"

Nightmare's eye narrowed, distaste leaking into his voice. "It is not so much a ghost as it is a memory." He tipped his head back, closing his eye as he sighed. His chair creaked beneath him with the movement. "..It is all senseless babble. Nothing clever, yet there is always something to say. Always. About you, me, Horror, Dust, Cross, everything and everyone. Insults, comments, nothing of any worth."

You are not of any worth either. Nightmare motioned aimlessly into the air, closing his hand around nothing. "It craves attention like a spoiled child."

Killer hummed, working over his weapon once more. "wasn't he just a kid though? i mean, if the story's anythin' to go off of, the little fucker was, what? 10 when it happened?" Nightmare snorted, cutting the noise off before it could turn into laughter. He still spoke in a chuckle, despite his effort. "No. Perhaps mentally, it- he was. No, the fool was barely into his second decade when he gave in to corruption."

"...which was you, right?" Nightmare stiffened. "i mean, no offense boss, but." Killer slipped his blade up his sleeve, his neutral smile ticking up into a sneer. "the corruption in that book seemed to say 'i' a lot. and you hand wrote it. from your perspective." Snooping idiot, looking into things without any right to. He's not wrong.

"if i'm guessin' right, that ghost of yours, was the original Nightmare. that's his name, isn't it?" No right to be doing this. Nightmare had done nothing to hide the information. The truth was there for anyone who wished to piece it together.

Nightmare lifted his head, eye cracking open half-way so he could look at Killer properly. "..You are not wrong. The true Nightmare still resides within this body. He can no longer control it, nor can he leave it." He raised a hand, delicate as he trailed his fingers over the patch of slime that kept his skull together. He sneered, sour. "The fool that he was, Nightmare. It was amusing, watching him tear his own life apart. He blamed the villagers for everything, like the coward he was." His hand dropped to his chest, right over where his corrupted apple soul would manifest, and gripped at the fabric of his shirt.

"He played the victim so well. So brilliantly did he act, that even that bastard brother of his was fooled despite his ability to sense such lies." How easily you forget your own role in the incident. Your manipulation played a part in that, as well. Nightmare's teeth flashed, as sharp as his voice as he spat, "I only claimed what was offered, what was freely given. He chose his demise, he accepted me into his soul."

Killer watched, empty eyes darkening with interest. "i never said otherwise, boss." Nightmare released his shirt, leaning forward, his elbows on his desk. "No. No, you did not. But, I'm quite certain you're aware of who did."

A knowing shift in Killer's expression, a slight narrowing of the eyes. "...you killed him." It wasn't a question. You corrupted everything, you ruined everything. It was all your fault.

Scoffing, his corruption flowing thicker, Nightmare's teeth pulled back into a chilling grin. "No," he purred in response to both claims. "No, I did not kill him. He will forever claim that I was his assassin, but I am not." Anger sparked in the darkest void of his soul, indignation bursting hotly like an explosion. "I am merely a consequence."

Killer snorted, "just a lesson learned, eh boss?" Nightmare huffed lightly, allowing himself this moment of shared amusement. "Not learned well enough, considering how nearly half a century later, the little bastard is still whining about injustice."

Killer gave a startled bout of laughter, choking as he giggled, and Nightmare's sharp grin softened. I hate you. Likewise.