Identity: a dsmp fanfic (incomplete)

1

He woke up in a void. The air rushed up from beneath him, bringing with it a sensation of falling. It was a bizarre situation because as he went to right himself, he found he could stand and walk as if on solid ground. While still feeling as though plunging into the dark below, he surveyed his surroundings, but only found pitch black.

He tried to recall what had happened to be in such a predicament, but to no avail, as he realized that he couldn't remember anything. He had general knowledge and recollection of practical and factual, but the personal memories? Anything pertaining to himself or others seemed to have been wiped clean. He couldn't even remember his own name.

He collapsed to his knees and shook his head. Hard. As if he believed it would knock something loose in his mind, uncover some piece of information that would let everything make sense. Light tears fell down his face as his panic increased.

"Who am I?" he whispered. His own voice seemed as alien as his surroundings.

He tried to calm himself down. Freaking out wouldn't get him anywhere. He repeatedly took deep breaths, feeling his heart rate slowing, he sniffed and raised his head. But something had changed. It took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn't falling anymore. It was the same void, but everything was eerily still.

He staggered to his feet and braced himself as an unsettling feeling grew. It all felt wrong. The invisible solidity beneath him shook violently, nearly knocking him back to the ground. The darkness in front of him fizzled and flickered until the shaking stopped, and where there had been only black seconds before, there was now a glowing, simple smiling face.

"Interesting," a voice boomed. His eyes widened in shock. Somehow, when nothing else had, the voice felt familiar. Yet not in a good way. He immediately mistrusted the voice and decided to rely on his instincts, since they were all he currently had.

"Who are you?" he asked. He noticed he had a distinct accent that the voice lacked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the voice replied, obviously amused.

He stayed silent.

The voice laughed.

"Well, why am I here if not with answers?"

He had a few choice words for the voice, none of which particularly polite, but the ground chose that very moment to dissolve. Whatever he was about to say became a scream of utter terror as he plummeted into the inky blackness.

.

.

.

Before long, he noticed light below, dimly illuminating a spacious room. He slammed into a long bench and groaned. The fall should have killed him. Everything hurt and he was sure bruises were already forming, but he eventually pushed himself to his feet to examine the new setting.

He seemed to have landed in the middle of a train station, but save for himself there wasn't a soul in sight. The place brought with it a feeling of dread, and he couldn't help longing to leave. The glowing grin appeared beside him and he stumbled back a step.

"I thought this would provide more accommodating, given how much time you've spent here."

"Who are you?" he asked

The voice scoffed.

"Straight to the point, huh?"

Silence.

"Fine. I have many names, but you can call me Dream."

"Dream." he tested the name. The word left a bitter taste on his tongue.
"Who-," he let out a breath, "Who am I?" his voice shook.

A small portion of the ground rose in front of him. As it lifted, he could better see that it was a mirror. But when it stopped, the person staring back surprised him.

He had curly brown hair hanging over his eyes, and he wore a dark trench coat over a yellow jumper with stitches across the chest. There was an odd flag-like patch sewn onto the sleeve of his coat, and there was a bloody bandage wrapped around one of his arms.

A pair of cracked spectacles slid across the ground, seemingly on their own, and stopped at his feet.

"You dropped these when you fell." Dream said.

He picked up the glasses and slipped them on. His vision didn't seem to improve, but he found comfort in the feeling of the wire frames resting on his face. He looked back to the mirror and searched his reflection for any clue as to who he was.

"Your name is Wilbur Soot."

"Wilbur Soot," he echoed. It felt right. It felt like his.

"Why am I here? What do you want with me?" He turned back to the floating image.

"Oh, Wilbur," Dream said, "You chose this."

Before Wilbur could answer he was shot into the air by a gust of wind and rocketed back into the void room.

"If everyone else is like you, I have a lot of explaining to do." Dream commented.

"Everyone else? There are others?" Wilbur asked, confused.

"You thought you were the only one in this situation? No, no, no. You're one of many."

More people! In this situation?!

"Why did I wake up first?" he inquired.

There was no response.

"Hello?" He called.

It took him a second to realize that the grinning face had gone. He sat down and began to ponder exactly what he had gotten himself into.

861 words

A/N

short first chapter but i promise it'll get longer