Showtime (A Sanscest Story)

The Unlucky Soul

Killer grunted as he was thrown into the ground. Nightmare had come and found him, taking him from the Medical Tent. They were in the woods, in a odd clearing with a grey stain on the ground. Killer scrambled back, pressing himself against a tree. "Last time I brought someone here... I was the only one to leave." Nightmare rumbled.

Killer was shaking violently. Nightmare had already broken his knives. He turned his head to the side. "Please... Mercy..." He whispered. Nightmare approached him, his tentacles curling around the other. They weren't quite touching him, but Killer knew he wouldn't be able to escape.

"You want mercy? Then stand and face away from me." Nightmare's arm shifted, revealing the whip coiled underneath it. Killer shivered as he saw it. All he could remember were those pained golden eyes and tortured screaming as he had been forced to watch helplessly. "You remember this, don't you?" Nightmare's eye raked over him.

Killer couldn't even look at him. He was locked onto the whip, remembering it stained with dust. His breathing had frozen and Nightmare rumbled again, a quiet smile spreading across his face as he seemed to feed on Killer's fear. "This will be fun, Killer."

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Lust hummed as he moved around his tent. He had a mannequin in the center of the open area in the front. He was designing Cross' outfit. He stitched another white strap onto it. His mind began to wander as he thought about how Horror was doing with the traveling team. "They'll need to curb that appetite of his..."

He murmured softly to himself. He chuckled a little before falling silent. "I miss him." He whispered quietly after a few moments. He finished stitching and moved his way back to his chair at the desk. He was well aware that he could've used his magic to stitch, but it was so much more pleasing to do it himself. And he had a lot of time.

He stared fondly at the crude words carved into his desk, saying 'I love you.' Of course, love was spelled wrong, being spelled L-U-V instead of L-O-V-E, but Lust wasn't complaining. He loved them, nonetheless.

He traced his bony fingers along the carved words. When Nightmare had removed his legs, he'd dragged Lust back to the circus and left him on the ground, legs dusting. Horror had been the one to find him. That was how Lust had first met Horror. He'd been terrified of him.

And it wasn't hard to see why. A broken, bloodied skeleton with an axe over his shoulder and a hole in his skull wasn't the best sight to greet Lust after a near-fatal experience with the Ringmaster. But Horror had been the one to visit him. No one else really had.

It was Horror who'd asked Blue and Ink to make Lust legs. It was him who'd gone to fetch them the parts they needed. Possibly through illegal means. Lust felt his face flush a little. He could still feel the other's warm breath on the back of his neck and his arms resting lazily over his shoulders. His raspy voice asking quietly what project Lust was working on.

"Ahh!" Lust went bright purple and covered his face. "Ahh, I miss him so much!!" He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat in the chair. He could feel his SOUL pounding in his chest. He reached out and ran his hand over the carvings again.

Horror would come back that summer, so Lust would see him again. The traveling team would always tour the world for two years before returning. Lust stared at the half-finished costume. He buried his cheek in the fluff of his vest. He hadn't slept in a while. At least, not WELL.

Lust liked being around others. He couldn't sleep well if there wasn't someone else in his bed and that someone had been Horror. He yawned in a manner similar to a kitten, blushing as he remembered how Horror would make fun of him for it. His eyes closed.