ASSASSIN 2~ 𝓗𝓪𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭

ﾟ｡*+Dreams+*｡ﾟ

Quackity POV:

The King woke with a start, eyes flicking open wide, only to be met with the same darkness as they saw when closed.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, not quite out of fear or panic, but out of a desperate cry to be heard, to know that it was still beating.

Quackity sat up, his hands clammy and damp, clutching his covers like a lifeline. His eyes began adjusting to the dark and he could make out thin streams of moonlight across his chambers. So still they looked in the twilight, and him, the only thing in there awake and alive -pardon a few mice the castle cat hadn't yet found. At least, that's what his logical brain said.

Quackity suddenly became very aware of his lack of sight beyond the shadows. He pictured little birds chasing each other in circles on the ceiling of his room, their little beady eyes staring at him through the dark. He brought his knees up to his chest and shivered as the covers slid off of him, the initial flush of his wake fading away.

For almost every night for the past 5 months that he'd attempted to sleep, Quackity had had the same dream.

The same exact dream, down to every little detail -and he'd had a lot of time to study these.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★

Quackity was standing on solid ground, but he could only tell this from the softness of the soil beneath his boots, and the way the grass brushed his soles as he stepped.

It didn't matter in which direction he did step, as the surface of the earth was hidden beneath a thick mist swirling around his feet, obscuring everything else surrounding him, leaving him at a loss at what was around him -if anything at all.

As he craned his neck in any direction he could, his eyes caught on the only thing sticking out of the mist. A very faint blue glow at a distance from himself that he couldn't quite measure, though it seemed far.

The blue glow seemed to move, almost pulse, as if breathing or shimmering in the full mist. Quackity walked towards it, his steps moving in odd lurches with dizzying uncertainty. Gravity seemed to shift without rhyme or reason, the air thick and heavy.

The blue light eventually grew closer, however, -or larger, at least. Finally, the king stumbled upon its source, the blue aura enveloping him like a cold breeze that was entirely still.

A boy sat there in the obscured darkness, lit by his own emanation of azure blue. His face was blank, eyes vacant of colour or warmth. His mouth was sat in a soft contented smile, making the entire expression a little off-putting. He looked younger than Quackity recognised, his scars and blemishes gone, as if untouched by the life he'd led.

Wilbur -for it was him, of course, however different he looked- sat with his legs crossed, the knees of his pants ripped and frayed in a way that implied decay, rather than activity. A thick yellow tunic hung low over his waist, and high on his pale neck.

Quackity stood silently to his left as Wilbur looked into the void. He didn't stare into it, or search or glare. He just looked.

And even if Quackity had yelled, the boy would not turn. His gaze was fixed, forever ignorant or unaware of the longing presence at his side.

The sight, though he'd seen it every night since his coronation, was still a punch in the gut. A quick suck in of breath, leaving him emptier than ever and gasping for more. More than anything, it ached. A cold, dull ache, that settled like a pit in his stomach.

But on top of this, there was a nagging curiosity that drove him to force himself to sleep some nights, determined to study every detail for any hope of answers. Other nights, he simply resigned to the idea that the nightmares just were, without the meaning or closure he so desperately wanted.