dysphoria | mcyt

𝟘𝟛 | 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥.

Bad woke up again after god knows how long, blinking open his misty eyes only to meet the pitch blackness of his room. The only thing that even remotely stood out was the peacefully sleeping figure of his dog at the foot of his bed, who's side rose and fell with each gentle breath. He felt sick. Like he was going to vomit, and his head spun. But he couldn't go back to sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He was wide awake, and felt this weird, cold feeling slowly rising in his chest. As if he had to leave. Now.

Unable to ignore the feeling, he flipped his blankets off and shimmied out of bed, making sure to not wake up Rat. His feet touched the cold hardwood floor as he glanced out the window. It was dark outside, probably one or two in the morning. He noticed something. In the distance. A black figure, completely void of any color or light, with a pair of two gleaming white eyes. Weird. He didn't think that Dream, George or Sapnap had changed their skins so who...?

He rubbed his eyes and looked again, squinting slightly. Nothing but grass swaying lightly and the faint smell of cool night air. He must've been seeing things, but it still made him feel more anxious than he already was. He put a hand on his chest and gripped the fabric, inhaling deeply and exhaling through his mouth. He was fine, he was at home, and he had a sword in his inventory so even if something got in, he'd just kill it.

Bad still jumped out of his skin when he heard a chair move in the kitchen. What the hell? He never really used the word often, but now seemed like appropriate timing. He inhaled sharply and equipped his iron sword. He pushed his door open and stepped out, his blade gleaming at his side.

"Who's there?" He questioned, his tone sharp. No response, and he was beginning to think that it was some sick prank that Sapnap would pull to spook him. Let's just say, it wasn't the first time.

His heart hammered in his ears as he cautiously navigated through the hallway, gripping the sword so hard his fingertips dug into his palm and his knuckles turned white. He found his way into the kitchen, moving slowly as his misty eyes flickered around. It didn't take long for his gaze to land on a figure, about his height with fair skin and pure white eyes. They were wearing a dark suit with white cuffs and had disheveled ebony hair that flopped over their eyes. They seemed to notice him as well, because their sharp eyes landed on him and they smirked with narrowed optics.

"Who are you?" Bad asked- no, demanded, readying his sword. He tried his best to glare, despite his head feeling like it was about to split open at this point. The blade felt heavy in his hands.

"God, you have really short term memory, don't you?" They asked, beginning to circle him, their steps accompanied only by the slow tapping of shoes against the floor. Their voice was, well, like his. But deeper and smooth and just a little bit cold. He felt like he heard it somewhere before, but couldn't really remember where.

"I'm you, but stronger..." they trailed off, and when bad looked at them as if they had gone mad, they continued with a mildly disappointed sigh. "I'm Void. You know, the weird demon thing in your head? You didn't think I wouldn't stop by to visit, did you? Or maybe you thought it was all a weird dream." They stopped to examine their nails, as if this was all 100% casual.

So it wasn't a dream, and Bad could remember it all as clear as day. This was all completely real. He rubbed his eyes and raised the blade, his mood changing rapidly from tired and a bit annoyed to royally pissed off. He gripped the handle and lunged.

"Get out of my head, and my house, and my life!" He shouted, slashing downward in an attempt to decapitate Void in one fowl swoop. He hit what he initially thought was stone, before he realized that they had actually grabbed the blade with their bare hands. Seemingly unfazed that someone literally just attempted to murder them.

"Not bad, you're pretty strong. I haven't been able to take a sword to the palm in a while." they hummed contentky before meeting his gaze, "Oh yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you. Since our gracious Blood God has connected us, you will die if I died and vice versa. Let me show you."

They let go, allowing Bad to drop to the ground, along with the sword. Void's eyes gleamed like a flashlight, casting a pale glow all around the room. He had to cover his eyes from the light to keep himself from going blind. When it faded, they stood with a rather sharp looking knife pressed against their palm. They dragged the blade across, slowly, carefully, as if they were making sure that they didn't hit anything vital.

Bad felt a sharp, stinging pain in his palm. He didn't think it would hurt that much, but it felt like their was vinegar being poured into the wound as it was cut open and his own blood dripped onto the floor. He inhaled quickly, closing his hand into a fist to stop the bleeding. He shot a genuine glare at the..male? female? something? decked in black.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Well, luckily for you, I can heal things as well, it just-" Bad felt his hand go numb for a few seconds. He looked down, watching it be cleared of blood as his injury sealed itself, leaving not even the faintest scar. He was busy staring at the magic that had just happened before his eyes to notice the huffing and puffing from the other side of the room. He shifted his gaze to void, who was leaning against the wall and sweating.

"It just takes a lot of energy," They stated, breathing as if they just did a killer workout of something.

"Are- are you okay?" Bad asked, unsure of what to say or do- how do you help someone that's probably just a figment of your own imagination? He, like many other normal people, didn't know. Void grimaced before getting back to their feet.

"Of course! I just can't keep this form for very long after that. Toodles." They began fading away, almost like snowflakes against your palm with a wiggle of their fingers.

"Hey! Wait-!" He reached forward, as if grabbing them would somehow keep them from vanishing. It didn't work, at all, and instead they dissipated like smoke. Leaving Bad alone with nothing but his thoughts, a headache, and a bad taste in his mouth.

A/N: sorry for being late, loves! I got a bit occupied with school things and wasn't able to update.