Ghost Stories (A Sanscest Story)

A Perfect Picture

Killer blinked open his eyes. The first thing he became aware of was sunlight. He blinked and looked down, checking his SOUL. To his surprise, it had yet to morph back to its target state. "Never been like this for that long..." He muttered in confusion. He blinked as he became aware of something else.

He looked over to see Dream cuddled against his shoulder, still asleep. The sight startled Killer and he felt a light red glow on his cheeks before turning his head away and coughing wildly. He turned back after beating his chest a couple times. What the fuck?? Then, it all came rushing back to him. He blinked and slowly relaxed.

He stared at the smaller. There were still faint tear stains on his face from his episode last night. Killer blinked. Why had Dream come? Because he was scared?? Killer assumed that Dream must've had a hell of a nightmare. He hummed and wrapped an arm around Dream. He blinked. Today was Friday, right? Didn't they have school??

Killer scanned the room until he located the clock on the wall. He furrowed his brow, slowly reading the time. God, he hated analog clocks. He blinked. "Fuck, man." He said. It was 8:57. Killer blinked and glanced at Dream. He remembered Dream telling him about how he would set an alarm on his phone.

Then, once Dream got up, he would go and wake everyone else up. So, based on that, Killer doubted that any of them had gotten up. Dream didn't even have his phone on him. "Guess we're all skipping today." He said to himself, shrugging. Whatever. Fine by him. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes again.

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Dust blinked awake. He furrowed his brow. He wasn't in bed. He blinked and pushed himself up. He was hunched against the wall, sitting on the stairs leading up to the second floor. He blinked and used his hand to steady himself. He straightened up, his spine cracking. He blinked and focused on something.

What was...? He furrowed his brow again. His hand... It was dark. He shakily drew it down the wall, watching as his skeletal fingers left a smeary trail of red and grey. He went cold. "Last night was a good hunt, brother..."

Dust blinked and focused as the ghostly Papyrus formed in front of him, drifting quietly. Dust stared at him for a few moments, unsure of what he was talking about.

It came back. Dust's eyes sparked and he shakily leaned over, gripping his head. He blinked and leaned against the wall. He felt... nauseous? Why? Killing never made him feel sick. He blinked. "You worry because someone saw you." Papyrus informed him. Dust blinked and looked up at the ghostly skeleton.

Blue's face flashed in his mind and a chill went down Dust's spine. For the first time, he felt bile rising in his throat and he choked it back. "Do not fear, brother, we'll take care of him..." Papyrus seemed to try to reassure him. Dust froze. He jerked his head up to stare at Papyrus with wide eyes.

"No. Not him." Dust whispered fiercely. Papyrus blinked at him. Dust shook his head and pointed a shaking finger at Papyrus. "Not. Him." The head blinked slowly and tipped itself.

"Brother." It spoke in a serious tone and Dust froze. Papyrus drifted closer and spoke softly, his eyes burning into Dust's. "Have you... become... attached?" He drew out the last word and spoke it like it was poison. Dust shook quietly before slowly raising his hand and gripping his head.

"No..." He whispered out. He knew it was a lie. He knew Papyrus knew it was a lie. He felt the ghostly skull drift around him.