Dust was slumped at the long dining table, staring blankly at the dish that Horror had set down on the polished wooden surface in front of him. There was no chatter or banter going around the room as there should have been. Not even Nightmare's voice scolding them for putting their elbows on the table. Papyrus was talking, of course, but Papyrus was always talking. For the most part, Dust couldn't be bothered to respond. His fingers were absentmindedly twisting the hem of his brother's scarf, obsessively repeating the movement over and over again like a timeline being reLOADed as he tried to remember why he should care about food. His SOUL hurt. How long had it been since he'd last eaten? Or slept? Or drunk anything that wasn't caffeinated?
"ABOUT AS LONG AS IT'S BEEN SINCE YOU WERE AT LEAST SOMEWHAT USEFUL," Papyrus huffed, glaring at him. "YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A WASTE OF SPACE. I HAVE NO IDEA WHY NIGHTMARE HAS ALLOWED THIS TO CONTINUE, BUT HE IS OBVIOUSLY MORE TOLERANT OF IT THAN HE SHOULD BE. HE SHOULD DUST YOU AND BE DONE WITH IT."
"I'll dust you if you keep talking," Dust grumbled under his breath, but he couldn't muster up the venom to make the threat sound real. Paps was right. He was useless.
The silence around the table was broken by Ki – he's not Killer – the new guy, who rapped the table to get Dust's attention. "Hey, bud, what's with that look? You see a ghost or something?" he asked, snickering.
Dust's fingers tightened around the scarf, the tips of his phalanges puncturing the worn fabric. He barely heard Papyrus telling him off for damaging it.
"You going to... eat that?" rumbled Horror, looking from him to his untouched plate with concern. Like he had for every stars-damned meal lately. Dust wished he'd just leave him alone.
"Not hungry," he muttered.
"Eh, who cares," the new guy said dismissively. He pushed his own plate away and stood up. "This ain't as good as Grillby's burgers anyway. I'm out."
Horror's eye snapped over to the new guy, who shrugged, completely unfazed by the eerie glare he was receiving. "What's the big deal? I can steal some food from any random universe if I get hungry. Just throw mine out or whatever."
Dust had risen halfway out of his chair before Cross caught his arm, giving him a subtle shake of his head. Horror's single eyelight was still fixed on the new guy.
The new guy raised an eyebrow, glancing between the three of them. "Something wrong?"
Something wrong. Dust's eyelights were burning in their sockets as he stared at the new guy, at that face and that stupid grin that belonged to his best friend, not this – this jerk who thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted without consequences.
Something. Wrong.
Stars, where did he even start?
"Let me ask you a better question." His voice came out as a quiet, furious hiss. His fingers were still buried in the scarf, twisting the fabric again and again and again and again, as he reached for the words he'd said too many times now, to a child with the same stars-damned grin that he was now looking at again –
"Enough."
His boss's cold, firm tone cut through the growing din in his head. Nightmare hadn't moved from where he was sitting at the head of the table, straight-backed and perfectly composed, but his dark presence seemed to fill the room, bringing with it tense, horrible, blissful quiet. Even Papyrus fell silent.
"Killer. Sit down."
It was unmistakably an order. One that the new guy who wasn't Killer he's not Killer stop calling him Killer obeyed, returning to his seat beside Horror in uncharacteristic silence.
YOU ARE READING
To Kill A Killer
FanfictionNightmare's gang always knew that their job was risky, but they never expected to actually die. Then Killer was killed. Nightmare found a replacement quickly enough, but this new Killer isn't the same as the old one, and the gang are having a hard...
