Operation F.U.N.

Chapter One: Captured and Dangerous

Footsteps beat against the ground- a lighter pair pursued by a set of three heavier ones. Local scenery flew by in the blink of an eye. Veil after veil of snowflakes danced along the howling winds, creating a blinding white haze. Snow-coated pine trees and shrubbery blurred from the sheer speed of the running monster: A slivery-boned skeleton, whose chasers were relentless. A viscous black ooze desperately clung to his being, caught in a perpetual cycle of dripping off his bones only to clasp back on; Two limp tendrils made from the substance trailed behind him. If one gazed upon the monster's face, they would see an odd cross between fright and a hateful scowl.

Nightmare, the Guardian of Negativity, was the fleeing skeleton. A great fury only comparable to the one that plagued him in Dreamtale raged within his being. It burned in his soul and chest, festering like a planet-devouring sun hellbent on consuming the Earth with flame. Thought, despite the rise in internal negativity, he could not bring forth more power or repair his dark armor. How did this come to be? Dream, his self-proclaimed 'brother,' enlisted Sci to help 'fix' him. Meaning, the godforsaken scientist used the opportunity to create a device that would forcibly revert Nightmare to his uncorrupt form. The form of a weak, helpless child. It worked. Partially. Nightmare's true appearance was revealed for all to see. (What he would give to go back and slap that pleased smile off Dream's face.) However, the black ooze refused to recede entirely. (The crestfallen expression the other wore nearly made up for his damned positivity.) It was a part of him; Dream was a fool for thinking otherwise, and forcibly attempting to separate him from himself.

If only my negativity wasn't so useless right now! Nightmare growled at the thought. He hated it, feeling so defenseless and easy to kill. It drew out the old insecurities and fears buried beneath a layer of negativity.

I swear if I ever get my hands on Sci - or Red, he'd be a good bargaining chip - I will show them a force more frightful than negativity and death combined!

Of course, the forced shift in appearance and power was not the sole cause of his rage. Dream isolated him from his boys- Dust, Killer, Horror, and Cross. And, threw each of them into different AUs, which were notoriously dangerous and difficult to escape from unscathed. Apparently, in the guardian's twisted, delusional mind, they were a 'bad influence'; Demons sent by Satan himself to ensure Nightmare stayed on the path of evil. A ludicrous notion by all means. Killer could be intimidated by a pickle jar. Cross had a cow phobia. Dust feared any and every spider (Muffet's fight was quite traumatic in his AU). Horror cried whenever he saw a trash can because 'Nightmare, how can they be so heartless and throw away perfectly good food.' His boys- Despite being cold-blooded murderers and advocates of negativity, they had the mentality of a man-child. If anything, Nightmare was a 'bad influence' on them.

Suddenly liquid chains shot past the trees, knocking him roughly to the ground and pinning his body against the snowy surface. He squirmed and struggled. However, the black ink bindings merely tightened with each movement.

Funk!

Nightmare's pursuers' footfall grew ever closer; The sound nigh thunderous in his invisible ears. Frantic beating from his dark soul shook his rib cage. He could not allow the Star Trio to catch him. Given the circumstances, though, he may not have a choice. The chains tightened further with every additional thrash, squeezing around his body until the world began fading to black. As the world slowly dissipated, a hysterical voice sounded, "Ink, I told you to be gentle with him!"

"Wait, you did? Who are we chasing again? I forgot."

Two exasperated sighs followed, and then Nightmare heard no more as his consciousness got devoured by darkness.