A Lost Soul. (DISCOUNTINUED AND NO LONGER CANON)

New Playmates.

                                   🚩 (intense??? ) Gore🚩

he child screamed as Sabrielle dragged them by the hair. She forced him to a chair, tying him to it, but leaving his arms free. "Oh we both are going to have a fantastic time. " She said in a malicious tone. "But, first I need to get something. " She left the boy alone in the room, muttering nonsense to herself.       
      The kid tried to untie himself, but ended up making the chair fall sideways. He tried to sit up, but found out that his abdomen was tied to the chair the hard way.     He softly began to cry in both anger and frustration. How way he going to get out of here? How was he going to withstand anymore of her "games"?! Last time... Well, luckily he didn't have much more time to dwell on this.
  Sabrielle entered the room with a spool of rope and a covered plate, placing them both on a table in front of him. " There you are. Thought I heard a crash. " Sabrielle muttered, croutching down next to him. Then he noticed his tears. Her face softened for moment and she gently wiped up his tears. Then, she returned to normal.
  "There, there. Don't cry. We're about to play our last game. And you get to try my fabulous cooking." She returned his chair to its proper position in front of the table she lifted up the cover of the dish to reveal a delicious looking meal. There on the plate layed a square of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and sliced boiled eggs.  His mouth watered at the sight of food, Making Sabrielle chuckle. "Bon appitite." she said, handing him a fork. He snatched from her hands and quickly devoured everything but the eggs.   
"Well? Was it good? " Sabrielle questioned, popping an egg slice in her mouth. He nodded, but then blurted. "I don't like eggs." Sabrielle laughed. "Just eat them. Who knows. Maybe these are different. " He reluctantly stabbed a slice with his fork and began to eat. It was surprisingly squishy and slimy. And it tasted like fish. As he went in for another slice, but he noticed red lines and a ring of blue surrounding a black spot. He began to feel sick to his stomach and recalled the metalic-pork taste of the meatloaf.
"Was that-" He began to say. "An eye? " Sabrielle finished, grinning maliciously. "Yes. And the meatloaf was my special recipe. "   His eyes widened. "You-you sicko-" He sputtered. "Took you long enough to notice." Sabrielle shoved his chair to the floor, knocking his head against the ground. He helped in pain, feeling as if his skull had just slightly cracked. Sabrielle hummed "Run rabbit, run" As she tied the spool of rope to his right ankle, tight enough to cut off the blood flow to his foot.
Then, she untied him from the chair, yanking the lead on his ankle. "Move." She growled, forcing him to stand up. He stumbled after her as she dragged him down the seemingly endless hallway. At the end, for some reason there was a deep...hole. Suddenly, he was falling head first down the hole, screaming.
     Just as he thought his head was about to become a spaghetti bowl, the rope lost all of its slack. He sighed a breath of releif, though his heart was still racing. Suddenly, a bright light came on and Sabrielle appeared out of nowhere. But that, at least from his knowledge, was impossible. He hadn't even heard her feet touch the ground.
And suddenly he wasn't so relieved that his head didn't hit the ground. At least the ground would be quicker and less painful than this would be. "Ready to play our last little game? " Sabrielle chirped, poking his cheek. not playfully, more like a butcher, checking for rot.               He didn't respond, trying to anticipate her next move. She pulled up her jacket sleave, revealing hundreds of scars, but clearly self inflicted. "You get to match me." She grinned. His eyes widened in fear. She pulled a scythe out of thin air, and placed the tip on his arm. "Hmm... Any requests? " Her lips shakes in anticipation as she spoke. He inked at her, startled by the question.
   She gave an exasperated sigh and pressed the tip of a kitchen knife on his thigh, drawing blood. He cried out in pain, the blood trickling down- er, up his thigh. Sabrielle began carving his legs with ornate, intricate, painful designs. She didn't bother avoiding his arteries, carving flesh with a hunger for pain. Soon his entire left leg was like a decorative log.         He sobbed from the pain, which Sabrielle found quite amusing. But, she decided that this game was over. She untied his ankle, causing him to fall and snap his little neck.

(~‾▿‾)~Time skip, bitches.(づ￣ ³￣)づ

"WHY, AM I SUCKER FOR ALL YOUR LIES, STRUNG UP LIKE LAUNDRY ON EVERY LINE?! WHY DO I COME BACK TO YOU LIKE I DON'T MIND IF YOU FUCK UP MY LIFE?! " Sabrielle sang with a fiery, emotional passion. "Like I don't mind if you fuck up my life!" Sabrielle finished.
This was her job, singing at her cousin's bar. She hated it, singing for these drunkards. But oh well. As some of the guests cheered, only one person in her audience caught her attention.
  A skeleton sat alone at the bar, grinning creepily. His dark, (mostly) empty eye sockets seemed to bear into her SOUL. Black tar seemed to pour out of those ominous sockets  and a red glowing target hovered over his chest.    Sabrielle almost immediately recognized him as a sans. L̴̢̥̞͚̫̠̰̳͍̹͎̠̲̺̳͛̾͌̆́̂̒͗̓͝ͅi̵̢̢̡͚̩̞̥͕̜̻̫̩̐̈͘͜k̵̨̪̖͇͙͎̜͊̌͘͜ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ d̴̨̢̤̗̦͚̺̭̤͙̹̃̕â̸̙͐͑̌̿͛̽d̴̨̢̤̗̦͚̺̭̤͙̹̃̕.

For a moment her stage smile disapeared as these two bitches stared each other down. When she had finally forced  her smile back, she was walking backstage. She mentally noted to talk to him once the show finished.

                                        ~... 𝚂𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅...~
Luna, Ariana a di sang a few more songs before I headed to the changing room. Swiftly I changed into more casual attire, out of my short, silk, green dress and into some random shirt, leggings, combat boots, and my dad's old green hunting jacket.
I teleported directly to the bar.
"My usual, still bottled. " I said to the bartender, slapping two twenty dollar bills and their equivalent in G on the counter.
They nodded, and skin I was sipping on some Tennessee honey whiskey.
I turned my head and found that the skeleton had taken a new seat- right next to mine.
"heya, pal. " He said with his unwavering grin. "heya." I said, smirking smugly. "You'd be Sabrielle Liune, right?" he asked. "Depends, who's asking? " I replied, not willing to give an answer quite yet.
"The name's Killer. But I'm here on my boss's order. He answered, extending his hand for me to shake.
I didn't accept the gesture, and the strange skeleton responded with a shrug, pulling a knife from his jacket sleeve. Good guess, Bri. I thought to myself.
"Who's your boss, Killer? " I asked, tipping my head slightly to the side. "
"Nightmare. I'm sure youve heard of him. " Killer answered cooly.
I nodded. "If you work work for Nightmare, why did he send you here for me? "
"Well, the boss would like you on his staff. "
I gaped at Killer, my eyes probably bulging like they were about to pop out of their sockets. "As in the Nightmare?! As in the embodiment of negativity himself wants me?! Why?! What are his terms?!

-----------Authors note----
Hello my wonderful little shits. Yes, I was too lazy to finish writing this bit of the chapter, but I will write a part two