Tommy lay at the bottom of the pit, his body battered and broken from Dream's relentless assault. The darkness enveloped him, a suffocating blanket that mirrored the emptiness inside him. Blood pooled around him, seeping into the soft flowers below him. Each breath was a struggle, a reminder of the torment that had become his existence.
Each revival, each fleeting moment of life, was just another opportunity for Dream to inflict more suffering. The cycle of pain and death had stripped Tommy of any will to fight. His eyes, once filled with fire, now stared blankly into the abyss.
Above, the faint light of the moon filtered down, casting eerie shadows across the walls. The world felt distant, a place he no longer belonged to. Time lost meaning in the depths of his despair.
A distant sound broke the silence, the echo of footsteps reverberating through the chasm. Tommy's heart, though dulled by endless torment, beat a little faster. He recognized those footsteps—Dream's return.
Tommy didn't move. He didn't flinch. He knew what was coming, and there was no point in resisting. Dream appeared at the edge of the chasm, his cruel smile hidden behind his mask.
"Still alive, Tommy?" Dream's voice was a chilling whisper, dripping with sadistic pleasure. He climbed down, landing with a soft thud next to Tommy's broken form.
Dream knelt, his hand reaching out to lift Tommy's chin, forcing him to look into those pinpricks of the eyes on Dream's mask. "You've become quite the survivor," he mocked, his fingers tightening around Tommy's jaw.
Tommy's gaze remained empty, his spirit shattered beyond repair. He didn't respond. He couldn't.
Dream stood up, towering over Tommy. "It's almost a pity," he mused, pulling out a knife. The blade gleamed in the moonlight. "Almost."
Without hesitation, Dream plunged the knife into Tommy's chest, twisting it slowly. The pain was excruciating, but Tommy's face remained expressionless. He had grown numb to the agony, his mind detached from his suffering.
Dream watched, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You won't die yet, Tommy," he whispered, pulling the knife out and letting the blood flow freely. "Not until I decide."
Tommy's vision blurred, the edges of his consciousness fraying. But he knew he wouldn't die. A stab like that, would not kill him.
As the darkness closed in, Dream's laughter echoed in Tommy's ears—a haunting reminder of his cruelty. Dream reached into his pocket and pulled out an ender pearl, a gleaming eye that glowed with an eerie light. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the pearl upwards, its trajectory moving fast and true.
In an instant, Dream vanished, his form dissolving into nothingness as the ender pearl teleported him to the top of the pit. He looked down at Tommy's broken form one last time, his smile hidden behind the mask but felt in the air.
"Goodbye, Tommy," Dream called down, his voice a whisper that echoed through the empty chasm. And then he turned, his figure disappearing into the night, leaving Tommy alone in the darkness.
As the stars above twinkled in indifferent silence, Tommy's body lay motionless at the bottom of the chasm. Each breath was a labored effort, his mind drifting between the realms of consciousness and oblivion.
