Skeleton Sillies! (A Oneshot Book)

Egg Yolk

(Hi! I know this hasn't updated in a bit, but have a piece from early Pressing Positivity. Requested by the lovely Unamzi! Thanks bud. :) 

Tw: Blood, Violence, Gore, Hypnotism and Amnesia. (Though none are very graphic or detailed.) Stay safe and enjoy!

"For a moment there, he was taken to an extremely bad version of one of his first attempts. He was standing right here. Except it wasn't yolk splatting on the floor, it was your—"

Blood. 

So much of it, too much of it. 

Dream stood not far from the fridge, your blood on his hands. On his tunic. Ruining your gown. Ruining his floor. Ruining him.

He looked at your mutilated body. You'd fainted from the loss of blood. His would be running cold right now, if he had any. Your open wounds still poured with it, dripping, dripping, dripping from your—

Quick! Your—Your everything! He needed to heal you—fast!

Immediately, his hands were hovering over you, intense green forcing its way from his fingertips and into your scars. Slowly, they closed themselves, flesh renewing, skin regrowing, a process Dream never tired of watching, but hated seeing. 

Once you were sufficiently... fixed, he carried your limp body back to your room, whispering a quick spell in your ear so you wouldn't remember anything at all. Tucking you into your bed, he sat rigidly at the foot of it. 

Attempt sixty eight...?

He looked at the blood on his hands and balled his fists. 

Failure.

But how...

"Rise and shine, sunshine!" 

When Dream leaned into your face, with a smile, he made his first mistake. Your eyes popped open, and you yelped and shoved him away, clinging to the thick white blanket draped across your legs. 

You were scared! No denying that. He leaned away and patiently waited for you to orient yourself. The two of you sat in a somewhat awkward silence for a while until you finally asked who he was.

"Dream!" He chirped back, keen as ever on being as peppy as possible. "What about you, new friend?" Not like he didn't know.

When you gave him your name, it wasn't long before he was asking for you hand, loathing the way you hesitated ̶(̶H̶e̶'̶d̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶f̶i̶x̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶) but eventually claiming your grasp all the same. 

He delighted in the cooperative way you followed him down the staircase, into his kitchen. What he didn't delight in, is the weary way you looked at him, your nose slightly scrunched, eyes slightly narrowed. He hated how your gaze would dart away from his, as if he wouldn't notice. It made his soul writhe in his chest.

"You go ahead and sit here." He said cheerfully, pulling out a chair from the quaint round table in the middle of the kitchen floor. Not sitting when he asked was your first mistake. (Well, of the major ones anyway.)

"Sit. Please." Dream ground out, mood dropping. He felt his fingers flex. Attempt sixty seven had gone bad, but he had high hopes in sixty eight! Maybe you'd be good this time.

You obliged, but it was fearful. That was the way people looked at his brother, not Dream! No, not Dream. He tore his eyes away from you and paced robotically over to the stove, lighting a fire, and opening the fridge. 

"Any meals you like, darling?" He crooned, intent on facing away from you, even as he tied on his apron. "I've got plenty of ingredients, so don't be shy!" He grinned with his words.

Saying you didn't know was your second mistake. Dream's eye twitched, and he sighed quiet enough so that you wouldn't hear. Just when he was about to speak up though, you said something more.

"Where am I, how did I get here?" Your trembling voice sent painful pulses through his soul. "Why am I here? I don't remember anything." 

"Well dear—" 

Getting up was your third mistake.

When Dream turned to face you, he was devoid of emotion. You were anything but stable, breathing quick, eyes darting around, body shaking. You looked like a cornered animal. Dream wasn't even interested in intimidating you... not ever.

He folded his hands, a fragile facade of patience taking over. "Please. Sit back down."

Your fourth mistake was your last. 

When you made for the patio door, Dream was faster, seizing your wrists and slamming you down onto the kitchen counter. ( ̶(̶M̶i̶s̶t̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶M̶i̶s̶t̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶M̶i̶s̶t̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶M̶i̶s̶t̶a̶k̶e̶—̶)̶ 

You screamed, ramming your heel into his stomach. His grip loosened, and when he leaned back, you went wild, thrashing, kicking, slapping, full-on fighting for your feeble human life. 

Too bad it wasn't enough to save you. 

All your fight was whisked away the moment, Dream drilled his fingers into your abdomen, wide golden eyes leaking icky black. He looked ghastly, horrified but inwardly. 

"Stop. Struggling." He grit, ignoring the way you hyperventilated, hands latched desperately onto his to make him let go. He didn't care. He pried your hands off and snapped your fingers. 

With every bone broken, you screamed, and only seemed to get louder. It was annoying Dream. Like a fly buzzing endlessly around his head. So he got creative. You didn't stop yelling when he'd asked nicely, you breathless cries for mercy falling on deaf ears. 

He'd gouged out your vocals, and when you'd only struggled harder, he... he...

Dream's eyes snapped open, and immediately he rushed to the nearest bathroom, clothes discarded as he leapt into the shower, washing off all the red. Bad decisions were made. Mistakes were made. It was evident in how dirty he was.

When all was said and done, Dream wondered if you'd survive. He feared the cycle of good and evil was going to end on a dark note. A deep note. He feared things wouldn't quite go the way he'd hoped. 

When he stepped out the shower. He looked in the mirror. Golden eyes stared back.

Perhaps he really was no better than the brother of his he swore to hate so much.

~~~~~~~~~~

Welllll.... It has been a while huh? I quite like writing unhinged characters y'know? I'm just a lil' unhinged myself. :3 And uh, sorry if it was a bit rough or weird ^^" surprisingly enough, that egg remark was one of few where it didn't actually allude to anything I had an idea for/prewritten. I kinda had to improvise and uh... there aren't a lot of ways to harm a human in which the blood splats onto the ground as thickly and plentifully as yolk without killing them! The first thought was the abdomen or chest... but that'd kinda be an instant kill... so uhh, I left it vague for improvisation. :Ic

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

- De Moogus 

(Requests are open!! I'd really love to get back into writing and I think this book might help jumpstart that!)