Remembering Nightmares

First

It has been about two months since Cross had been in the cold world.

He had started to call himself Cross since it seemed the most natrual... Plus all he likes to wear are X's and things that have a crisscross patterns. 

The "town" that he was in had a sign. Snowdin.

When he first saw them, he made some jokes out of it, though... No one was there to laugh at them... Or even to say that they were stupid... He was starting to grow more and more discouraged... Saddened... Lonely... He was becoming more tired, even... Sleeping more than one would say was necessary...

Yawning softly, the pale skeleton laid down on a soft comfy bed, burying himself deep inside the little warmth it provided. He was so tired...

A looming figure growled at him, their blue eye glowing harshly. They seemed angry with him... They didn't like him... Cross knew that for sure... 

"You no good lackey! You nearly got us killed!" They shouted, their dark hand slamming into the white skeleton's cheek. 

He fell to a cold, wooden floor, a harsh crack forming swiftly. The room was filled with negativity... It was physically hurting him to be there... It made him feel sick.

"S-Senpai... I-I'm sor-sorry..." He whimpered out as he looked to the giant monster before him.

They growled, anger in their eye. Four things produced out of their back, fear creeping even further in the fallen body.

"You're cleaning the house for a month." They growled, they storming away a second later... 

The smaller scampered to his feet, hurrying to get his job done... For his love... Anything to not get hurt... He should've known better than to trust that yellow traitor...

Cross jolted up, fearful. Something pounded cruelly in his chest.

He didn't understand what it was that woke him. He also didn't remember what it was about. Just the feeling... The dark... Terrible feeling... The feeling of eternal sorrow, of pain and agony that would haunt anyone for the rest of their life, even in death... 

Shaking his head, the white skeleton started walking out of the small town. He had a feeling that he had to move... He had a feeling that he must get away from the place... He just had to... The dream might follow him... The dream might find him...

That last thought was what made him hurry... Was what made true fear enter his body... He just couldn't do it... He couldn't stay there... He had to run...