Chains of Negativity

Chapter 10

Nightmare ordered Horror to grab as many plush blankets as he could find, while he cleared a spot on the floor of his room. His plan was to replicate the under-the-bed feeling, but more spacious and more comfortable for Ink. He began by placing some blankets on the floor, then hanging some up to create a canopy. Overall, it was a pastel looking mess in the corner of his room, it wasn't like the king of negativity was used to making blanket forts after all. But he hoped Ink would find comfort in it. He added a few extras, like a star shaped pillow and a cloud shaped one, a few stuffed animals and two weighted blankets. One for Ink, and one for any company he would have.

Of course, he had Killer steal most of it. The King of negativity wouldn't have star pillows with cartoon faces and pastel blankets just laying around. He definitely wouldn't spend any of his money on them either.

Ink groaned in the bed as he woke up, obviously in pain. It flooded Nightmare with negativity, just what he needed after all the cute shit he had to touch. Maybe he didn't have to beat Ink today, whatever negativity that was left over from his previous torture sessions seemed to be enough. For now. :((((

Ink groggily sat himself up in the bed, looking around in tired confusion until his eyes fell on Nightmare. Ink immediately lit up, seeing the fort.

"Yes, it's for you," He answered before Ink could ask.

Ink squealed, jumped out of the bed, and hobbled over to the fort. He fell into the plush pillows and just began to giggle. Then he began to kick his legs and roll in the fort. Overwhelming joy on his face.

It got too much for Nightmare, weakening his negativity, and he walked out, planning to beat or kill something. Or take a nap and beat Ink afterwards. He sent Cross in to do whatever two positive people do in a situation like this. Ink squealed again when he saw Cross.

"Look!!" Ink exclaimed and handed Cross a heart shaped pillow.

"Quite the set-up. I think Boss likes ya," He chuckled and was quickly pulled into the fort by Ink.

He took a deep breath and immediately understood Nightmare's intentions. To give Ink a place where he could feel safe, despite how he definitely was not. Cross was glad that he actually cared enough to try and make him feel more at home. Whether it was because he and Ink were friends, or because he genuinely felt something for him. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Ink right now.

"No, he beats the shit out of me. A lot. How could he like me?" Ink asked, becoming sadder as he spoke.

"He needs negativity, Ink. It's not because it's you. It's just something he has to do," Cross explained.

"Why me?" Ink asked quietly.

"Well I think Boss thought that you and Dream were hurting me when I lived with you. But I cleared that up with him a little while ago, and now I think he feels bad, hence the little fort."

"Why not Dream then?"

"Because Boss can't stand to be around him," he answered simply, "and neither can I."

"I miss you," Ink laid his head on Cross's shoulder.

"I miss you too buddy." He replied. "But you're here with me now."

------

"Hello Mr. Star," Ink smiled, talking to the star shaped pillow.

He really sucked at naming things.

"Meet Cloudy," He held up the cloud plush

Only a few hours in and he lost it. He was on his stomach, talking to the pillows as if they were his living friends. Similar to his brush, which begs the question; did he just go crazy?

Cross had left him alone a few hours ago, and he was just so lonely and bored. He ended up talking to the plushies. And it wasn't talking at them, like it had been with Broomie, it sounded like he was legitimately having a back and forth conversation with them. So even if he was crazy before, naming and talking to objects that had no soul or feelings, this was obviously much worse than that. He continued talking to his 'friends' for a long time. He wasn't sure how long, there were no clocks in the room. Minutes, hours, days?

He had absolutely no concept of time, he was the last person who would be able to tell. He didn't need to eat, or sleep, or anything. He could just exist like that for days on end. He could talk to the plushies forever and still have something to say.

Eventually Nightmare peered in to check on Ink, similar to a parent checking on their child. He watched the scene for a few minutes, wondering what the absolute hell was happening, before slowly shutting the door again. He couldn't see Ink in the fort, as he had pulled the blankets over the entrance and closed himself in, but he could hear him talking. Talking to nobody. He couldn't feel any aura other than his own in there.

Nightmare didn't know if this was normal behaviour for him, but either way it was concerning. He leaned against the wall next to his bedroom door and sighed in exasperation. He wanted someone to torture, to use for his own benefit, and he wasn't expecting it to be such a hassle.