Homey

Three: From

Nightmare had informed Killer that he would be taking training from now on to hone his combat skills. This included everything from hand to hand, mastering how to use his knife, magic, stealth, and speed.

He was exhausted, his limbs felt as though they were made of gelatin nearing a vacuum cleaner, unstable and wobbly. Even his bed couldn't offer him much comfort, its warm embrace only reminding him of the hundreds of hours more he needed to commit.

Do not get him wrong, he is incredibly grateful for his bed. Sleeping in the woods on trees and bitterly cold snow made him appreciate the luxury of a warm bed. Yet, every time he would try and fall asleep, he would feel something. He struggled to describe it, for he had no words to properly explain it. It was on the tip of his tongue, only frustrating him more.

In the first couple weeks of his new life, he had already picked up new hobbies- besides lazing around, as he would have in his now desecrate timeline. These hobbies turned out to be knife throwing and wood carving.

He discovered his love for knife throwing, as the name suggests, throwing knives as part of his daily training. He loved the way it sliced the air silently, hitting the target with such force and accuracy it was akin to a bullet. As for wood carving, he had a multitude of knives at his disposal. He tried using two knives to sharpen each other's blades and quickly discovered that carving into the wooden handles was much more stress-relieving. It was fun, watching the wood shavings fly away as art slowly emerged from the handle.

Quite honestly, he had Nightmare to thank for the discovery of both hobbies. While he was still apathetic towards the man, he could not deny that Nightmare cared. His boss told him that the close ranging of his weapon would ultimately be his downfall, and learning how to throw knives would prove useful as well.

He wanted to express his appreciation towards Nightmare, yet he froze. He suddenly felt like he had no control over his body as it turned back around to head upstairs. It was odd, he always felt as though he should be avoiding Nightmare outside of professional settings (or as professional as it got being a team of murderers chaotically yet methodically working together).

Disregarding the strange occurrences happening near his boss, Killer was very adept at his training exercises. He was often praised by Error for how well he did, but he cared little, if at all. It was just him progressing, something natural, nothing to get emotional over.

Despite receiving new knives, he always used his plain kitchen knife as his primary weapon. Nightmare wasn't very pleased to learn this, but he accepted it, as he saw how talented Killer was already with the weapon. It was an ordinary kitchen knife, something everyone owned, which made it even better. It could be easily replaced and was a simple weapon to hold.

Killer liked simplicity, he felt as though he needed it. So when the issue regarding his physical appearance was brought up innocently by Dust, Killer was unsure of how to answer. Dust had asked Killer why some days his eyes would appear pure black with the tar running down his face, while other times they would clear up into normal wine-colored ones.

He did not know the answer, but he chalked it up to the changes Nightmare mentioned. A lot of issues going on he agreed was simply due to the changes. He was lethargic about the situation, and he felt guilty at times, but he couldn't change how he felt. How was he supposed to feel?

How was he supposed to feel? Good question, for he himself did not know. Why couldn't he feel anything? Why him? Why was he messed up like this? What kind of freak doesn't feel emotions? Why did he not cry anymore when he desperately wanted to? Why could he not feel happy, sad, anxious, giddiness, or hesitance? Was he so fucked up?

What kind of freak of nature is incapable of expressing basic human emotions?

Thoughts ran through his mind suddenly, drowning him as he felt like an imposter within his own skin, trying to claw back to the surface.