Ravens

Chapter 2 - All is good ( Right )

Nobody expected it when it happened

No, nobody could have predicted what would happen

Dream had been put away, finally put away, having Tommy and Tubbo forced away from him in the vault room

Having them watching him as he was chained and shackled.

Their eyes glued to him, watching, waiting, acting, sitting standing whatever they wanted to do in that moment they did as he was stripped by the hand of Tommy, sliced and cut over and over again down into nothing

But something still felt wrong, like Tommy still lacked power in that situation

Dream had laid there while they clambered around him, eyes casted off - where were they looking, nobody knew, nobody but Ranboo and the ravens who screamed to the high heavens - as the mask never was removed from his face, forced onto his knees and put into heavy chains

His eyes were casted over, locked onto the hybrid who couldn't look away, who was twitching and internally screaming to be set free from the grasp tightly holding onto his brain

He now sits locked up in a prison cell, having been walked there on his own two feet, shackled and bound and feeling weak and shameful without armour, muttering about how he will be free, one day

He was stripped down to nothing, the mask unable to be taken, as if people forgot it was even a mask.

Somehow sutured to his head and molded to fit perfectly snug, his face, forever his brand and his features, that uncomfortable smile always watching Tommy's every damned move

Forced to be pridefully naked and bare to the group as they made him dress again, dressed now in an orange jumpsuit and its lighter under collar.

He sits in the obsidian room, muzzled and chained to the rocky floor- like some kind of untamed animal -, kept far away from the lava he used to constantly throw himself into- misbehaving mutt -, forced into submission and hardly able to eat the chunks of raw potatoes he ripped and smashed into the muzzle cage around his jaw. Hungry and starved

It was there that he began to show monster-like traits, nestled into the corner space between a rocky wall, back pressed and clawed up wooden chest, he sat with pairs of horns curled on his head.

Horns like demons, so many curving towards his face, towards the mask, unruly and twisted

Tormented and foul, beastly and disgusting he sits back and growls like a wild dog, hungry and waiting to rip everyone to shreds the moment they get too close

They curled into his hair, hair that had become ash blonde, darker and still bright, his mask now frowning, no longer a creepy smile, but an unhappy frown that looked onward.

Every tilt of the head was still unsettling, disgustingly forcing you to shiver and want to run away, even chained down he had the power to repulse everyone.

The horns curled back over his skull, the ends arched up and curved inward, a secondary set resting further along his forehead, reaching up to the sky, in short spikes.

His hair was never changing - lies, it was darker and dirty -, a tail lashed and slapped at the ground with a spade end, one that was double flapped and pierced - demon, beast, creature from the darkness - four ball notches sectioned off into the flaps of leather skin that was as black as his horns.

Day in and day out, he hisses softly at the sight of the warden, at the sight of whoever comes to visit

He stays quiet and weak and curled, powers boiling and every chance he gets he unleashes against the obsidian box walls, climbing, crawling, screaming like the beast he always kept hidden.