A small warmup for a much bigger fic. Warning for gore and impalation. Dream does not fuck around in this.
Also thank Skyrim and its death cutscenes for desensitizing me to be able to actually fight enemies
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Nightmare's trembling. His staff has been flung away - he can't reach it, he can't protect himself.
He can die now.
Dream doesn't feel anything, can't until after this, but he wonders if he'd feel a sick satisfaction.
Nightmare's eyes are wide. "Dream-"
"Shut up!"
"I don't think this is a good idea. You'll die too."
"I don't think so. Why do you think I'd do this if I knew for sure I'd die?"
There is a small silence and Nightmare's eyes grow unreadable.
"So you figured a way, huh? Can't blame you. You've always been so driven." There's something in his voice, but Dream doesn't place it.
"And now it's time for you to say goodbye, brother."
Dream doesn't hesitate, as he grabs the back collar of Nightmare's shirt, clenches hard, and plunges his sword into his chest. There's resistance - sternum, ribs, something- but he keeps pushing, and a sickening feeling of something cracking reverberates up his sword and into his hand. But he doesn't give up - keeps pushing on - even as Nightmare starts to cough up blood - until he feels less resistence and his sword is up the the hilt in Nightmare's body.
Nightmare's eyes are glassy, and he isn't breathing. His body is limp.
Nightmare is dead.
But he's still alive.
Dream feels a twinge in his chest, but that's impossible - he can't feel anything - his soul is gone for now -
He couldn't help the smile that rose to his face. He doesn't feel an emotion. But all he worked for- he should be happy-
He pulls out his sword. It's drenched in blood, much like his body is covered in Nightmare's blood. He grabs the phone and calls them. "He's dead."
He can hear a little row of congratulations from his coworkers. "Let's get the body and finish up before the celebration."
As a portal opens and there's a stretcher, there's Ink, there's Beatrix, there's one of his deceased best bud's great-great-grandpups, Leafoid he thinks is her name, and then there's the magic-blocking iron box that was used to lock his soul away, and now as he goes through the portal and sits on the conference table, it's being unlocked and-
And-
And there's nothing inside.
Then there's people freaking out, he feels he should be too, but he can't feel a thing either, he tries summoning it but he doesn't feel it, Ink gives him a look that would probably be pity if the soulless being could feel, and shit he's now soulless too, he asks about those paint things that make Ink feel and he hands him a red one, probably anger or whatever but he takes a sip and he feels like throwing up and he still doesn't feel anything emotionally and Ink shrugs and says he's a lost cause then, and shit he feels like he should be panicking but nothing comes up for feelings, nothing is right nothing is right-
And later in his bedroom he's looking at the sword that had dried up blood on the metal, thinking about when Nightmare died he felt a weird twitch- could it be his soul is gone but his body persisted-
He wants to feel something again, wants his aura, wants his wings back because that left when his soul disappeared, he wants to feel fine again-
And he thinks of Ani, a thought once making him longing and lovestruck, but now he can't feel a thing and that's not right - he needs to feel he needs to feel-
-
The next day, the unsuspecting personal maid of Dream had come to Dream's room in the early noon to clean as she'd been hired to do once a week. The lizard grabbed her key, unlocking the door, and the smell of something metallic hit her tongue, so intense she slipped her tongue back into her mouth. She opened the door to see what happened.
She screamed.
Guards came. Hospital staff came. Dream was announced dead, his lost body heat telling that he'd been dead for 10 hours already, declared a suicide from how his sword was impaled into him and the position of his body.
