(On Hiatus) Killer's Little Duckling

Chapter 5: Killer's Journey To Fatherhood

 That was it, all of this was just some stupid dream. And Dust was gonna wake up, and realize that none of this were real. His mind was just playing some sweet games with him, trying to comfort him in its poor attempt of ditching his pathetic fate of dying due to falling down.

Dust was going to wake up, and all of this was just conjured by he's miserable soul. None of Cross, Horror, and Nightmare was not real. They were just mindless character made up by hes mind.

At the end of the day, he'll realize that there was no Nightmare.

Nobody had picked him out of hes personal hell hole, Nightmare and the whole gang were never real in the first place. Nobody would notice hes pain, just why would anyone notice it, when he already killed them all in the first place?

No one was there to comfort him, and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

No one was going to burst that door open, just to say that everything was real.

Just like what Nightmare does all the time, everytime he woke up from a terrible dream. Nightmare was always there to keep he's monsters and fears away, and tell him that everything around him was real. Nightmare was a very patient monster, he would still always reassure Dust no matter what happened that everything was real.

No matter how many times Dust keeps repeating the same thing he said, Nightmare would always be there to reassure him no matter what. It felt nice, maybe that's why Dust always thinks that everything was just a dream conjured up by his soul, in a poor attempt at comforting himself.

Just like from the way, Horror cooks for them all the time. He might not be the best cook, but Horror was still learning. Dust knew from experience that they were stuck underground, where they had limited resources. Everything almost they owned came from the dump, where the humans just threw things away they deemed useless.

Dust and Horror never liked that part of the humans, they always take things for granted. They had everything in hand, yet they never learned to appreciate what they had. Always complaining for the things they lacked, and never noticing the things that they already had.

It was stupid, Dust hated the humans even more. They were the scums of the earth, it's a mystery to him on why creatures like them had the privilege to live. If it would have been better if they had died in the first place.

And maybe....

Just a little hope, where Dust might be able to live with Papyrus on the surface on a different timeline. Just him, and his brother living in peace with no humans disturbing them. And threatening them for their sick entertainment.

He wasn't complaining for the things he had, nor he wasn't grateful for what Nightmare did for him. Real or not, Nightmare had given him freedom, he did more enough than Ink could ever have done. In the past 300 genocides routes that the human had put him on, leaving him no choice but to kill his own family, and friends in order to raise his level.

For whatever he was thinking that time, that made him do the most horrific thing he was avoiding to happen, was a complete mystery to him. Dust couldn't even remember the things he did before, as if he's memories were smashed into one another, making it difficult for him to remember anything at all.

Nightmare had told him that some things are better forgotten, and left alone. He wasn't sure if he was the only one who didn't remember their past, or his level had truly just messed him up. That thought was terrifying, yet somehow Dust felt nice that he can't remember all the horrible things he had done.