Blood & withered roses || Dream x George x Sapnap

|| One ||

CW || Blood. Cigarettes.

|| Dream. ||

Crisp Autumn air prickled the back of his throat, small droplets of water splattering against his coat as the slick mud bubbled underfoot, leaving his boots dirtied by its thick gloop. He sighed, brushing the low hanging trees aside and hacking apart their leaves with his knife. It was rather blunt, having been used for ages, but still managed to easily decimate the surrounding plant life and create a path for him that he could traverse without much effort.

He stepped out of the damp forest and into the outskirts of a nearby town... Or rather... A slightly larger village than normal. He pulled his hood up even more to conceal his face from the wind and the rain, hoping that the skull mask would do an even better job although it was cracked in many important areas. Dream pushed open the doors to a blacksmith, striding up to the counter with unmatched confidence, sure that there would be nothing hiding in this obviously abandoned store.

With its shattered windows and dusty attire, the long-forgotten blacksmiths shop was a store that had almost been stripped bare, having barely anything on its shelves or in its drawers. "Come on...," Dream grumbled under his breath, eagerly digging through a mahogany dresser. "There HAS to be SOMETHING useful in here."

Finally, he pulled out an ideal item, which he decided would be perfect. Dream picked up the circular mask and brushed his fingers over the top, feeling the fine layer of dust that had settled on it, as he grinned at the childish smiley face that had been painted on. "Now THIS... THIS is something that I can get behind..."

Dream clipped the mask on over the top of his face, the small object managing to conceal most of the top of his face, although it left everything under his nose visible. He continued to search the building, finding a pack of unopened cigarettes in a cabinet just below the counter. "Oh, jackpot," He laughed, peeling the wrapper off and sliding it open, before thumbing through to make sure that they were still good and hadn't gone stale yet. "I've been dying to get some more of these, i've been clean for weeks..."

He stuffed the smokes into his pocket and carried on, trying to find some more supplies to put into the bags hanging from his belt, knowing that he was running out of a lot of basic supplies and desperately needed to gather some more. Dream exited the building and ran across the street, ducking under cobwebs and brushing aside vines, as he made sure that there were no infected lurking in the darkness of the shadows.

Once he'd cleared out the area, Dream started scavenging everything in sight, stuffing empty bottles and other viable containers for storing water into his bags. "Why does nobody ever have any fucking cans!?," He grumbled, slamming the cupboard doors shut after realising that there wasn't any non-perishable food left in them. "All of this is rotten... This whole cabinet should be classified as a biohazard, literally." Suddenly, he heard a quiet noise coming from behind him, similar to the humming buzz of a mosquito.

He spun around, pulling his dagger out and preparing to see a stray howler or maybe even cryptant, but there was nothing there but a small tabby cat. Dream lowered the weapon and smiled, holding his hand out and calling the cat over after sheathing his weapon. "Heeere, kitty kitty, come to meee..." He muttered, pulling a strip of jerky out of a pouch and luring it over.

The cat came running, taking the beef jerky straight from his hand and biting down on it. Dream started to pet the animal, grinning as he brushed his fingers over the surprisingly soft fur. "Aren't you a pretty kitty, huh? What's your name...," He thought for a moment, realising that there wasn't a collar on her. "Patches, that's it, i'll call you patches!"

The rubble beneath his feet shifted and caused a small shelf to fall, crashing over with a loud clatter, which resulted in Patches turning and running off, still carrying the jerky. "Oh, goddamn it...," He grumbled, standing back up and brushing himself off. "Whatever..."

Turns out, the loud booming sound of a shelf hitting the dusty cracked concrete floor was enough to attract infected, as he saw a zombie out of the corner of his eye. The creature howled at him and charged, the bone horns growing out of its head showing that it was definitely a griever and not just a regular infected. Dream moved to the side but was still knocked over, hitting his head on the ground with a groan.

The griever pounced and shoved him back down, roaring in his face and getting saliva splattered over him as it dripped down the creature's fangs. Dream pulled his hunting knife out again and stabbed the griever repeatedly in the torso, kicking it off of him and chucking it to the side.

Dream heaved as he raised the weapon up once again and impaled the creature, finally killing off its high-pitched shrieks of rage. He sat up, examining his body to make sure that it hadn't bitten him anywhere, before shakily getting to his feet again.

He wiped the blood off of his hands and onto his plain black cargo pants, checking for any new rips or tears, but there weren't any. "That's... That's enough excitement for today, i'm getting too old for this...," He mumbled, mopping the sweat from his brow and leaving the building once again. "I'd better be getting back home, it'll be nightfall soon, and I definitely don't wanna get caught out at night..."

As he turned to walk home, checking for the flagpole of his current base that was flying a highly noticeable red rag, he heard a loud commotion coming from not too far away. Dream turned towards it and tuned into the noise, realising that he could not only hear the growls of numerous infected...

He could hear screaming.