Chapter Text
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It’s a schoolhouse. It’s bound to have some good supplies in it. It’ll be alright. Everything’s abandoned anyway.”
Dream rubbed his upper arms, looking back at the window they’d come through. “Everything seems abandoned, maybe,” he muttered worriedly. Still, he pulled his fur cape in closer and followed Nightmare in.
After leaving the room with the television, they’d ended up in desolate alleyway. Trashcans and garbage littered the pavement, and any possible entrances or exits were blocked by debris. They’d been checking the buildings around and digging through the trash for most of the day but barely found anything useful. None of them lead through to another street, blocked off by rubble or just simply closed doors, and any food or tools laying around were old and worthless. Nightmare was honestly surprised by the lack of people around, child or not. They found plenty of discarded outfits, but no actual living beings in them.
Truthfully, he’d been trying to avoid going into the schoolhouse at all. It didn’t feel like anyone was in the building (though his sense of distant emotions wasn’t all that reliable now anyway, unless he really focused, which used up too much magic), but it also felt especially heavy with negativity somehow.
Plus, there’s the universal checklist of places to not go into during scary situations. Schools were right up there with creepy abandoned cabins and graveyards.
So, he understood his brother’s unease. But it was also the only other place they hadn’t checked, and the only possibility to move further along.
“It’ll be fine,” he insisted, though it sounded uncertain, even to him. Dream just nodded with a little sigh and followed him further down the hall. He looked up at the lights above them.
“I’m a little surprised their power’s still working,” he whispered.
“A lot of the lights still worked in the village.”
“Yeah, on the smaller houses. Most of the bigger buildings were more damaged.” Nightmare hummed in acknowledgement, peaking around a corner that led down a perpendicular hall. The very end was cluttered with desks and chairs, once again blocking their path. There was one open door further down, so all hope wasn’t exactly lost.
When they were certain no one was nearby, Dream stepped out from around him and walked into the hallway. He bent over some loose sheets of paper curiously, a boney brow raised. “There’s a lot of kids’ drawings over here,” he said as Nightmare strode up beside him. The youngest skeleton knelt down to sift through them all. They were definitely childish, with long, uneven lines scribbled together to make vague images. Most were drawn with black crayon, though there was a bit of purple or red as well. It wasn’t as colorful as he’d expect from what seemed like an elementary school, but that may just be lack of supplies.
The images themselves were creepy: large eyes, a blackened tower, figures with their faces morphed and twisted. There was a couple of a tall figure with black squiggles behind him, almost like tails? Nightmare wasn’t sure.
“There’s TVs here, too,” the tallest pointed out, gesturing to a rough drawing of a television, its screen leaking familiar black goop.
“Does that mean these were made after everything went wrong?” Dream asked worriedly, picking up a couple of the pages to look at more closely.
“I guess so. Could have been by some of the younger kids in the city that survived.”
“Oh!” As Dream bent down to push the papers again, his brother tilted his head and looked at where he was focused. After setting the drawings aside, there was a newspaper underneath them all. It was torn up along the bottom and looked as if it had also been enlarged with the rest of the environment. Some black crayon scribbles littered the words, but the title and date were still legible. The paper was from over a year ago. “’Guardian Killed in Brutal Accident’?” Dream read with a confused tint to his voice.
Nightmare furrowed his brows under the paper bag. “Guardian like, a parent?”
“I don’t think so. Wouldn’t they have just said that? And it’s the main headline.”
He huffed, squinting his eye socket at the text below. It was all worn down and mostly rubbed off, if not covered by child doodles of the same multi-tailed man. He backed away, figuring it useless and unimportant to their current task.
“I wonder how they died,” Dream said to himself quietly, setting the newspaper down again.
‘At least they didn’t have to live through all of this,’ Nightmare thought to himself pessimistically before shaking his head and turning to move further down the hall. “C’mon, Brother. It was a long time ago. We have to focus on ourselves now, okay?”
“Yeah, you’re right… sorry.”
“It’s alright. I was curious too.”
Dream smiled softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Where do we go now?”
Nightmare gestured to the only open door nearby. “We’ll check that room out and see if there’s any other place to go afterward.”
With that vague plan in mind, the two brothers walked off again.
-:(o):-
So, the schoolhouse wasn’t as empty as they thought.
Well, unless those children moving around in the corners of their eye sockets were just hallucinations, which was also a valid possibility at this point. They didn’t feel any emotions nearby, after all.
The boobytraps were a bit harder to pass off, though. The first time a bucket came barreling towards Nightmare, Dream had to shove them both out of the way before either of them got any more cracks in their skulls. Nightmare had enough for the both of them. Needless to say, they were a lot more cautious about the floorboards they stepped on. The eldest twin kept a keen eyelight on the ceiling above them, as well.
These kids were still concerning, though. He thought that, as long as they stayed away, it wouldn’t be an issue. Neither he nor Dream wanted any more additions to their little team, and they didn’t trust others anymore to begin with. However, it became increasingly obvious that they weren’t exactly friendly, even from a distance.
They closed off pathways, beckoned them in different directions, all leading them into more of those deadly boobytraps. The fuckers tried to drop an entire locker on the brothers. How on earth these seemingly human children got a metal locker five times their size to hook up to the ceiling was far beyond him, but he didn’t want to know. All he did know was that these traps were set up for something their height, so it was unlikely they were just trying to keep out corrupted adults. That would be forgivable.
This was an obvious set up. Nightmare was sure to keep his brother close and behind him at all times.
Currently, Nightmare watched one of the sneaky assholes scramble away from atop a table they had to get creative to get over (of course kids were snarky enough to put a toy duck where the only way to avoid a trap was to duck). He narrowed his eye socket with an annoyed scowl, hopping down to the ground.
“Maybe we should just turn back,” Dream suggested. He eyed the scribbled papers and crayons on top of the table before looking down at his brother. “We haven’t found anything useful, and it’s clear we’re unwanted.”
“There aren’t any other places to go, though,” Nightmare grumbled irritably. He crossed his arms in obvious agitation. He didn’t want to be snappy with his brother, as his anger wasn’t directed towards him, but his patience was quickly wearing thin. “We have to at least get to the other side of the building. Plus, if there’s monsters and humans our size living here, we might be able to get you better clothes that actually fit.”
“True, but…” Sighing, Dream hopped down beside him and leaned into his side. “Why are we even still in the city, Brother? I thought the plan was check for help, then find somewhere far away from everything to settle down. There’s clearly no help here.”
“That’s still the plan. We just can’t really turn back now. We’ll make our way through the city until we get out again, then we’ll just keep walking.” He exhaled deeply, glaring at the empty hallway. “Hopefully, there’s a place where everything is normal.”
Dream smiled a bit, latching on to that little hope. He was good at finding the light in situations that just seemed shrouded in darkness. “I’m sure there is somewhere. I can’t imagine this negativity is all around the globe.”
They walked further down the hallway, sticking close together. It was a straight shot with what seemed like a mallet resting on the floor at the very end, just before another open doorway. A ratty carpet covered the old, worn floorboards ahead of them, dirtied with generations of grubby footprints. They passed a different door on the left that was locked tight, seemingly leading to a classroom on the other side. Even standing on Nightmare’s shoulders, Dream couldn’t get it to open.
“There might be a backpack around here, now that I think about it,” Dream said hopefully, glancing around briefly in search of said object. He stared especially at the coatrack they passed on the wall before but didn’t see anything. “It would be nice for both of us to have something to carry things in. I mean, besides your coat pockets.”
Nodding, Nightmare glanced around as well, moving forward a bit. “I’m just hoping to find you some shoes. When we get out of the school, if we haven’t found anything, I’ll give you mine.” He’d much rather give them over right now, but he knew Dream wouldn’t take them if there was a possibility they’d find some soon anyway. They were both stubborn fools, really.
“No! Brother, I’m fine. Those are your boots.”
“They are, but you’ve been barefoot the entire time. Your feet must be aching by now. It’s no problem, Dream. We can switch them back and forth, okay?”
The youngest huffed with a slight pout that had Nightmare smiling again. “I don’t want you running around barefoot either. At least I’m used to it. I used to run barefoot through the forest all the time. You always just read by the tree!”
Snorting, the eldest peaked over his shoulder with a hidden smirk. “Are you calling me lazy?”
Dream rolled his eyelights. “No, I’m calling you— Nightmare!”
Before either of them could react, the locker to Nightmare’s side toppled down on top of him. The door thankfully swung open at the last second, trapping him inside with a couple old books and school supplies rather than smashing him to dust. He just barely ducked in time to miss the back of the locker smacking his skull. The slam of its heavy metal hitting the floor was deafening around him, not unlike the sound of the shotgun in his ears just the other day. This one came without the ricochet, but it made his skull throb just the same. It almost covered up the high-pitched giggles and clambering of multiple footsteps.
Almost.
“Night!” he heard his brother scream, followed by his pounding on the side of his current cage.
“Fuck!” he hissed. Scrambling to his feet, he pushed at the metal above him, but before he could even try to get it off, something landed on top of it with a loud thump. It gave the locker just enough weight to prevent him from getting out. “Shit shit, Dream?!”
Noises of something scraping sounded outside, the giggling increasing as more and more voices joined. There was the slight clank of bone against the floor, and his brother’s cries of, “Get off of me! No, Nighty! Let me go! Night!”
“Dream!”
“Nightmare!”
Slamming against the locker walls did nothing but hurt his shoulder. Nightmare was powerless as he listened to something drag his brother away. The only relief he had was the fact he could still feel Dream’s emotions as he got further and further from him. At least he wasn’t dead. They weren’t killing him. That relief was dashed with the realization that, whatever they were, he couldn’t feel any emotions from them.
Just what the hell were they dealing with?!
When Dream’s screams were long gone and the feeling of his soul was barely a whisper in his mind, the weight that sat atop his prison finally clambered off. Hurriedly, Nightmare bent down to scrap at the edges of the locker wall, digging his phalanges between it and the floor to heft it up enough for him to crawl under. Rolling out of the way and letting the locker fall down again, he scrambled to his feet and looked down the hall they’d come from.
It was completely empty. He could hear clinking footsteps coming from the ceiling, but he had no way of following them. His hands shot up to grip the bag over his head, crinkling the paper. “Stars, fuck fuck fuck,” he swore, frustrated purple tears welling up in his eye socket. “Dammit! I can’t… not again!” They shouldn’t have come in this fucking school. He should have listened to Dream. None of this would have happened had they played it safe and tried to find another way rather than risking it for fucking shoes.
Nightmare had gotten too content, and Dream was paying the price.
Gritting his teeth, Nightmare scrunched his eyes closed and focused on expanding out his magic through the building. It took a lot of his energy, and that likely wasn’t a great idea considering Dream was the one with most their food, but he didn’t care. He needed to know what direction they took his twin.
There were two souls in the building, as far as he could tell. Only one was radiating panic fear fear fear, and it was coming from somewhere behind him, down the direction they were originally going. Whipping around, the skeleton vaulted over the fallen locker, only to stumble to a stop on the warn carpet.
In front of him was one of the children they’d been seeing all over the place. Their back was to him, peaking around the doorframe into the next room. He bet this was the one that stood on the locker to prevent him from getting out, assuming they’d left one of their own behind. Seeing them up close, he could see little pointed ears on the top of their head. A monster child, likely a dog or cat, judging by the clawed paws. They were in a little brown vest and shorts, pulled over a white undershirt. It looked like a school uniform, though the best reference he had for that were from books.
Before them, there was a hammer on the carpet.
Snarling, Nightmare grabbed the tool’s handle. It was too heavy to carry, nearly as tall as he was, but it would do. There was probably something wrong with the desire to smash a child’s head in, but at this point, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. After everything kids and teenagers did to him and his brother, whether they were around their age or not, he was starting to lose any kind of sympathy for them.
If he did it right, it wouldn’t kill them anyways. Then he could ask them where the hell they took his brother.
However, things didn’t turn out the way he planned, because of course it wouldn’t. As soon as the monster brought the weapon down on the other’s head, it shattered.
For a moment, Nightmare froze in confusion, his grip tightening around the wooden handle. He watched as the body crumbled to the ground, motionless, chips of its head scattering along the floorboards. When he’d gained back some of his thought process, the skeleton dropped the hammer and bent over to pick up one of the pieces. “Porcelain,” he muttered, eye widening.
Of course. That’s why he couldn’t feel any other presence. He’d thought they were just good at putting up a mental barrier, but that really would be too sophisticated for children. These things weren’t alive — or, at the very least, they didn’t have a soul. Did they not feel emotions, or was he just not able to tell if they did?
Either way, it made it all the easier to not show mercy to them. There was nothing to gain LV from if they had no soul to begin with. Tossing the piece back to the ground, Nightmare stooped to pick up the hammer again, dragging it through the door and into the next room.
He’d gotten his brother back once; he’d do it again. Nothing would keep them separated for long if he had any say in it. Dream was the only person in this rotten world Nightmare cared about, and he knew the feeling was mutual. There was no way he’d leave the other behind for any reason.
He didn’t care how many dolls he had to smash. He was going to find Dream, and they were getting the fuck out of this mess.
-:(o):-
Nightmare officially hated this school.
Not that he liked it in the first place, but after finding who that second soul presence belonged to, he really didn’t like it.
It seemed the inhabitants of the school ran on a sort of hivemind mentality, with the teacher as the queen and all the doll students as the worker bees (or, perhaps ants worked as a better comparison, the little skittery bastards they were). This was made clear when he’d been sneaking through their classroom. None of the monster nor human children reacted to his presence until she saw him. Then they’d all snapped into action, and he’d just barely made it out of there with all his bones intact.
The teacher was a human, surprisingly enough, so he had no idea what was powering the students if it wasn’t magic. Was this just another unfortunate effect of the negativity? Were they all somehow alive, but without a soul? Was this entire school haunted by dead children, possessing porcelain bodies? Where did the dolls even come from? Did he even want to know the answers to any of this?
Nightmare sighed grumpily to himself, sneaking around the bookshelves so Ms. Snake Neck Lady didn’t hear him. As dumb as it was, he did want to know. This was such a bizarre situation, and he was always looking to learn something new. However, now really wasn’t the time for that. He was pretty damn sure the teacher wouldn’t be up to telling him anything anyway. She didn’t seem like the Friendly Conversation type.
He flinched as the woman slammed something on the other side of the bookshelf. He couldn’t see exactly what she was doing over there, too scared to actually move any of the objects on the shelves to look. Still, he was getting restless. Who knows what those dolls were doing with his brother, and Nightmare couldn’t even move to another room!
The only relief he got was the feeling of Dream’s soul, if he really focused his magic. It was still pulsing with panic and fear, but at least it was feeling something. That meant he was alive and aware, if nothing else.
His guilt welled up at the thought, frustrated tears brimming his eye socket. This was the second time Nightmare had been unsuccessful in saving his twin. He felt like such a failure of an older brother.
He nearly groaned, slowly lowering himself to the ground, careful not to alert the other being in the library. Maybe he should have let Dream take up that title, afterall. Since the twins had never really met their parents, neither actually knew who was born first. They’d just argued for the label before settling it with a classic rock-paper-scissors match. This was years ago, and, obviously, Nightmare won. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.
How he missed those days. Seeing Dream’s pout at his loss was as funny as it was cute.
It had been so important then, as small of an issue as it was. Still, Nightmare took his role very seriously. Perhaps a little too much, at times.
Didn’t do much for him now, though.
The teacher dropped what he assumed was a book to the floor with a loud thud, jolting Nightmare from his thoughts. Scowling, he squinted toward the shelves through the eye holes of his paper bag, trying to catch sight of her figure through the books.
She had to leave eventually, right?
Nightmare wasn’t sure how long he sat there, waiting for her to finish her business. He could only hope it wasn’t as long as it felt. He was just beginning to consider sneaking by anyway, risking her hearing him in favor of wasting less time, when her steps started to move away. With bated breath, the skeleton slowly rose to his feet, praying that she was finally finished.
After a few painful moments, those shambling steps stuttered. The sound of a door opening and closing had his soul leaping. He dared not move for a few more seconds, certain that she would just come right back in the room. Fortunately, her uneven footsteps faded into the background creaking and moaning of the school’s old building. He pumped his fist excitedly when she was finally out of hearing range.
“Thank fuck,” he muttered to himself, bounding over to the rolling ladder. If Dream were here, he’d likely smack his shoulder for his language. Though, really, with their circumstance, he deserved a bit of a free pass.
As quick as he could, Nightmare moved the ladder attached to the shelves to the right, cringing as its wheels squeaked a bit in response. No bounding footsteps answered their cries, thankfully. As soon as it was close enough, he leapt onto the steps and clambered up, jumping to the bookshelf that had been blocking his path further along.
After a bit of maneuvering, and a surprising amount of parkour, he had successfully clambered his way across the weird library area. How anyone could get to these books or boxes tied together and piled like makeshift twin towers, Nightmare had no idea. It seemed incredibly impractical, and honestly, dangerous. He doubted the teacher had any care for the safety of the porcelain students, considering how many shattered husks he found along the hallways, but still. He doubted these were there before the school went to shit. The why bothered him.
… “Why” seemed to be the main question on his mind, nowadays.
He jumped from the book towers to the railing beside them. A little reading area laid before him, piles and stacks of discarded books lined around the walls. Each one was nearly the size of him, which almost made them more appealing, if not for the circumstances. It looked like it used to be a cozy area for children to curl up and read, perhaps with some bean bags or soft chairs. Now, it was just another dreary room he’d have to cross in this long journey to find his only family. Huffing, Nightmare slid down to the wooden floor, stumbling a bit. A book that had sat upon the railing as well toppled down with him, clattering on the wood noisily.
He jumped, jolting back to avoid it flopping on top of him. It was rather old looking, more so than any of the others in the library. Its pages were worn along the edges, and the cover was bound in deep leather. It landed wide open, pages planted on the floor, crinkling the old paper in a way that almost made the bookworm cringe.
What really caught his eye was the cover.
Nightmare stared at it for a moment, clenching and unclenching his boney hands. His gaze shot to the door then back to the book before sighing.
“Might make Dream smile,” he muttered to himself. Anything to lift his twin’s spirits, even if just a little. Flipping the book around took a bit of awkward maneuvering, but the skeleton managed. He quickly thumbed through the chapters and sections, looking for one with a specific picture on it. Thankfully, he found one rather quickly. In a swift motion, Nightmare tore the page from the book, pausing afterwards to make sure no one heard him.
When he was sure no one was coming, Nightmare folded the paper up as small as he could and stuffed it in a pocket on the inside of his jacket. He had to pull out a squished piece of bread to make room, but he’d been getting hungry anyway. Too much of his magic was going to extending his empathetic reach in order to feel for his brother’s lifeforce.
Propping up the paper bag, he stuffed the little bit of food in his mouth and turned back to the door. He immediately felt much better as the bread’s monster magic flooded his bones.
“Alright,” the skeleton sighed to himself, scanning the room. “Now how do I reach the handle?”
-:(o):-
Nightmare ended up coming across a another glitchy, goopy child in his travels alone — a human again. They were at the edge of a balcony after the library, sitting between the wooden poles of the railing, swinging their feet in an endless loop. Despite the headache they gave him, and knowing how Dream felt about it in general, he ended up approaching them anyway. Like the others, their cyan eyes bore into him as they spoke:
“You… feel like… him…”
As the brief pain of the being entering his body faded, Nightmare was left confused once again. Like who? Had they also been traveling with someone, like the previous child? Was this feeling they got good or bad? Knowing how people usually felt about himself, it was likely the latter.
Honestly, he’d hoped these children would help him somehow. In the end, they just left him with more questions.
But still, he wanted to find more. There was something alluring about them that he couldn’t explain. Now that he was alone, the skeleton could focus on the feelings a little more. They seemed helpless, and he could feel… something from them. It wasn’t quite a soul. It was more like emotions he’d sense from a soul, but diluted to the point he couldn’t tell what they were specifically. Like looking at something through a foggy window — he can see it, feel it, but he can’t quite make it out.
It was weird. He wasn’t sure what he thought of it. All he knew is he felt… better when they were absorbed into his body (after the throbbing in his head subsided). Though, he supposed he should be more careful without Dream there to make sure he was alright afterwards.
Still, he hoped this was providing some sort of peace to these children, assuming they were truly lost or dead as he suspected. At least then, Nightmare would be doing one thing right in this shitty world.
-:(o):-
Gremlins. These were not children, or monsters, or dolls. They were gremlins. Little fucking demons. If it wasn’t clear before, it sure as hell was now.
Wherever those things were congregated was just absolute chaos. Nightmare, in his attempts to get through this building, has had to go into their turf twice now, one more up close and personal than the other. After popping the hollow head off of one unfortunate child, he had to wear it in place of his paper bag just to get through the cafeteria and hallway, both teeming with the students like unwanted pests. It was almost ironic, wearing a cracked porcelain skull over his own cracked skull in order to blend in. From there, he had a front row seat to their interactions. They destroyed everything, spilled wasted food everywhere, and even beat on each other. Really, it was amazing he got out with only a couple rough shoves, considering they had no qualms with breaking their own peers.
He wished he could say a lot of it was unfamiliar violence, but he’s had his fair share of bullies as well.
Nonetheless, Nightmare felt no pity for any of the weaker of the bunch, no matter if they were tied up like an animal, their muzzles shoved into week old food, getting kicked while on the ground, or already dead in a bucket. All he could see was the possibilities of what Dream could be going through right now. If they were this aggressive with each other, he couldn’t imagine what they might try to do to a stranger.
Really, sneaking past the teacher was almost a welcoming endeavor. At least he could avoid her.
Now, he was marching down a gremlin-infested hallway, dragging a hammer as long as he was tall and leaving shards of porcelain in his wake. They didn’t seem to ever stop coming, jumping out of shadows and clambering from atop of lockers everywhere. Nightmare was quickly running out of breath, but he continued to smash their hollow heads in anyway. It was gradually becoming a way to let out his emotions — some sort of morbid stress reliever, despite the additional danger it put him in. There was something satisfying in watching the pieces of these small, demonic school children scatter across the floorboards under the head of his hammer, listening to their screeching cries cut off with a quick thump. It probably wasn’t healthy, but he’d take anything he could get at this point.
Still, nothing could fully distract Nightmare from the aching in his skull or the weariness settling in his bones. Fatigue and overexcretion was starting to catch up to him. His boots dragged with each step, the hammer getting heavier every time he swung it. He hadn’t taken any kind of breather since the library, too afraid of wasting precious time apart from his twin. Already, he’d gone through so much of the little stash of food in his coat pockets just to keep his energy up.
(A part of that was because he kept extending his senses to feel for his brother’s emotions, but he couldn’t help it, he was so close.)
Finally, the skeleton reached the end of the hallway. A single doorway resided here, past the upturned lockers and many now unmoving doll bodies. As he moved to step through the threshold, Nightmare just barely missed the swinging bucket that came barreling through the entryway, once again triggered by a loose floorboard. Truthfully, after everything else, he’d almost forgotten that was still a common danger. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the weight aside with his shoulder and continued on.
Through the door was a poorly lit bathroom. The tiles, if not torn from the floors and walls, were stained in questionable substances, paper towels littering the floor. Truly, it was as disgusting as he’d expect a bathroom to be in this place. However, it was the scene inside that had the most of his attention, all exhaustion forgotten in an instant.
Two porcelain kids stood before the first toilet stall, one human one monster, tying a thick rope around a wooden board nailed to its opening. They were hopping giddily back and forth as though filled with a glee Nightmare could not sense. This rope was hooked to the ceiling above him, tied around Dream’s ankle and leaving his brother hanging upside down high above the floor. With every tug on the rope by the students, Dream was jostled just enough to make Nightmare’s soul lurch.
Rage flooded his mind, drowning out the fear and overwhelming worry in a crashing wave of emotion. Nightmare moved as fast as he could with the hammer dragging along the tiled floor behind him. The two dolls barely had time to react to his presence before the metal head of his weapon was smashing through their fake skulls. Their laughter-turned-screeches — both sounds he was beginning to despise — were blissfully cut short, leaving the two skeletons to absolute silence.
Gulping in a breath of air, Nightmare immediately dropped his weapon and spun around to look at his brother. “Dream!” he called out, scrambling to stand underneath the tied-up skeleton. Dream dangled loosely far out of his reach, unresponsive to his cry and eye sockets closed. He was missing the rabbit fur cloak they’d found, leaving his bones and torn up blue clothes on full display. The fact he wasn’t dust did little to ease Nightmare’s anxiety as he remained motionless in his restraints.
Calling his name a few more times did nothing to rouse the other. Nightmare’s hands shook as he ran them over his skull, shifting the paper bag. “Okay, okay,” he whispered to himself. His eyelight trailed along the rope, leading back to the wooden board it was tied to. “Get him down, first. Get him down, then worry about everything else. Fuck.”
Now just lied the question of how?
He could very easily break the board with the hammer, but that might just as easily break Dream’s skull. The oldest doubted the dirty rags and paper towels underneath his brother were enough to cushion a fall that high. He could try to run in and catch him, but with his energy right now he didn’t trust his reflexes. A quick glance around showed no other soft objects for Dream to fall on. Nightmare sighed deeply, wondering over to the board to look at it closer. It was bound messily and pulled tight, looped in a confusing knot. But, it wasn’t impossible. Untying it was probably the safest option. More annoying and possibly more time consuming, but lowering Dream down was much more appealing than just dropping him.
Stealing himself, Nightmare searched the wood for the end of the rope. As fast as he could, he untangled it from its tight pattern. He did his best not to jostle Dream too much with his movements. Thankfully, it seemed the knot around his ankle was tight enough to hold him in place.
In a few, tense minutes, Nightmare’s shaky hands pulled the rope free from the wood plank. His purple eyelight snapped back to his brother, who remained unconscious. The heavy feel of Dream’s weight in his hands took away a bit of the stress from his shoulders. Attentively, he stepped closer, easing his grip to lower Dream down.
Before he knew it, Dream was back on solid ground, immediately scooped into Nightmare’s arms.
“Fuck,” Nightmare muttered again in a trembling voice, purple tears welling in his eye socket. He didn’t like to cry, preferring to be the stronger of the two of them, but the overwhelming relief and panic sent magic straight to his eye that he couldn’t hold back. His hands flew across Dream’s figure, checking for damage and reassuring himself that yes, his brother was here, he was alive, and he was generally okay. When the most he could find were darkened spots on his bones and a few hairline cracks on his ribs, a smile blossomed across his cheeks. “Fuck, Dream, dammit.”
His palm ghosted across Dream’s cheeks, thumbing the tear tracks that cut through the grim and dirt. He cradled him close, relishing in the feel of his soul pulsing in his ribcage. “C’mon, Dream,” he pleaded, adjusting himself so Dream laid more comfortably in his lap. “Please, wake up.”
After a long eternity, whether it was minutes or an hour, the silence only filled with Nightmare’s low whispers of comfort, those eye sockets finally peaked open. No golden eyelights were lit within the inky depths, but Nightmare didn’t care.
“… Night?”
He smiled, bag propped up just enough so Dream could see it. “H-Hey.”
His twin blearily blinked a couple times. “You’re…”
“I’m so sorry, Dream…”
Awareness seemed to bleed back into Dream’s mind. In another quick blink, those golden lights were back in their rightful place. He sat up, sliding off of Nightmare’s lap in a careful, slow motion. “Sorry?”
Adjusting the bag again, swiftly wiping away any stray tears so as not to worry Dream, Nightmare looked at his brother incredulously. “For not protecting you.”
“What…? Night, you don’t have to…” Dream cut himself off, staring at his twin strangely. He seemed to be a little out of it still, his eyelights flickering around unsteadily. Nightmare reached out to place a hand on his shoulder worriedly. That concern only increased when Dream flinched away.
“Are you okay?” Nightmare asked softly, knowing very well the answer was no. “Can you tell me what happened? Or do you just want to rest for a little?”
Dream nodded. What he was nodding to was unsaid, but Nightmare had a fair idea. He shuffled forward and slowly guided them both to the wall of the bathroom, grabbing a stray paper towel to sit on. They nestled against the tiles limply, leaning into each other’s side. Neither moved to embrace the other, but Nightmare couldn’t help but grab Dream’s hand, if only to have something to reassure himself that his brother was here.
The energy he’d gathered in order to help his brother was nonexistent now, completely drained from his bones. Of course, he knew he wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon, but taking a moment to relax was a welcomed change.
“I thought…” Dream started, lowering his head to Nightmare’s shoulder. “I thought they were going to kill me. It wasn’t like the hunter. They were playing. I was just… a toy to them...” His grip tightened on Nightmare’s hands. “I tried to fight back. There were too many of them, though.”
“This school’s infested with them,” Nightmare mumbled. “It’s not your fault.”
There was a long moment of silence. Uncertainty and a spark of anxiety welled up in Dream’s emotions for a bit. Following them was a strange feeling of guilt that crushed the feelings down, much to his confusion. The quiet was broken when Dream finally spoke up. “It’s not yours either.”
“Dream…”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have listened to you. We should have turned back.”
Dream shook his head. “There wasn’t any other place to go.”
“We could’ve gone back to the beach… Walked along the waters. Anything but going into this fuckin’ city.”
“We can’t go back now.” Dream looked up to him with a soft smile. “We can keep going forward. We’ll have to reach the edge of the city at some point. We’re together now. That’s all that matters, Brother.”
They relaxed back into the calm quiet once again. Neither dared close their eyes or let their guard down, just taking a moment to regain lost magic and energy. When it no longer felt as though his head would fall off his spine, Nightmare gently asked, “What happened to your cloak? And the bag?”
Dream ducked his head a bit, turning to bury his face into Nightmare’s shoulder. “Lost them…”
He was quick to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “That’s alright. We’ll find a backpack before we leave, like you said. And you can take my jacket if you get too cold. Do you want it now?”
“No, I’m alright… It’s not cold in here.”
Nodding, Nightmare glanced at the open window to their right. It was nighttime, going off of the light blue glow outside. He hoped continuing on meant getting out of the school, but he didn’t know how high up they were anyway. The window may be open, but it also could just be another dead end. “Are you good to move on?”
Humming, Dream shifted a little, pulling away from Nightmare’s warmth. His legs trembled, rattling with the effort of standing again. The eldest was quick to support him, making sure neither of them fell over. He got a grateful smile in return.
That little gesture struck a chord in Nightmare’s soul very suddenly. Taking a deep breath, he pulled Dream into a tight embrace, careful not to jostle his ribs too much. His fingers clenched into the ratted blue fabric of his younger twin’s leftover shirt, pressing his teeth to his collarbone. Dream returned the hug easily.
“I’m glad you’re okay…” Nightmare murmured into the other’s shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re okay, too,” Dream answered, his arms tightening around him. “I wasn’t sure if they’d gotten to you…”
Nightmare huffed a small laugh. “Of course you’d worry about me after getting kidnapped.”
“You say that like you wouldn’t do the same.”
“Fair enough.”
With a little chuckle himself, Dream pulled out of the hug first. “Do you have any food on you?”
Nightmare winced. “A little bit. I, uh, used a lot to keep my magic reserves up. I kept expanding my magic out to feel if you were alright…”
Dream smiled. “That’s fine. I did a few times as well… You should eat something, though. You look worn out.”
“We can split something.”
Reaching into one of the few pockets on his jacket, Nightmare searched for some sort of remaining snack. All the main things were in that purse, and he’d eaten most of the chips and bread he had. He mentally kicked himself. Really, he should have saved more of them. Of course the dolls wouldn’t let Dream keep the bag.
For now, he had some monster candies and a few bigger-than-usual granola bars they’d found in an apartment. If they rationed well, it was enough for another day or so. He pulled out one of the granola bars, unwrapping it and giving more than half to Dream. If his brother noticed, he didn’t say anything.
While Dream finished eating his portion, Nightmare made his way over to the window. He climbed onto the cabinet before it, looking out at what laid ahead. As expected, it was too far of a fall, and led to a fenced off area anyway. There was, however, a wooden board bridging this window and the one across from it, likely placed there by the porcelain children. It didn’t look the safest, but it was something. He turned back to Dream, gesturing for him to follow. The other clambered onto the surface beside him. Nightmare bent down to help him up. “We could go this way,” the older brother nodded to the window. Dream eyed it hesitantly, but Nightmare had already turned to open the sliding glass enough to walk through. Grabbing each other’s hand again, Nightmare led the way carefully.
The board creaked under their combined weight, but otherwise held firm enough for them to cross. The room they walked into was a dead end. It had a piano in the center, tied to a rope that connected to a pully system. After a bit of wandering, they found they could use the weight of the piano to smash through the floor, therefore opening up to a new room.
After shattering a lone porcelain student who’d been gutting a frog with their required key, the duo was able to open the door further into the school. As soon as they stepped into the new hallway, the sound of a soft piano tune drifted from ahead. The song would have been a relaxing one if not for the environment. It echoed eerily through the building, pausing every so often before starting up again. The sound prevented the small fake child before them from hearing their footsteps. It continued to scribble carelessly on its scratch paper and the floor.
Nightmare squinted his eye socket in a sneer. A dresser blocked their way. He’d easily be able to pull out a drawer to climb on, but not without alerting the little demon doll. There was another hammer laying along the floor surrounded by the discarded shards of another student. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who fancied using these weapons to smash some ceramic heads.
Carefully moving forward, Nightmare slunk his way over to the tool without making a sound louder than the piano. He was sure to keep an eye out for trap floorboards, but there wasn’t anything hanging above them, so he figured it was alright. When he was close enough, he leapt for the handle and stood up to face—
Dream was already on it.
His brother had pinned the soulless doll to the ground, wrapping his hands around its small neck. The student screeched and wreathed under his weight, reaching back as best as it could to shove Dream off. The skeleton held firm, locking his legs on top of its own to keep them from bucking. He dodged its flailing hands with a slight snarl, lifting the body up to smash it into the floor once, twice, until its head shattered on the impact. The body finally went limp.
Nightmare stared at the two, baffled and more than a little concerned. Waves of annoyance and anger radiated from his twin, so uncharacteristic of the usually soft monster. He didn’t quite know how to process this, instead standing frozen with the hammer still loosely in his grip.
After a moment, as if making sure it was really down, Dream pushed himself back to his feet. A shiver ran down his spine, rattling his ribs. Those negative feelings fizzled out like a blown candle, relit with dull fear, acceptance, and a bit of overwhelming pride. When those golden eyelights met his, though, he was absolutely doused in crippling anxiety.
Nightmare slowly set the hammer down. “Dream?”
“I…” He rung his hands nervously, stepping away from the shattered body. “I, um. S-Sorry. I just…”
Raising his hands, Nightmare shook his head. “It’s alright. You just… surprised me. Why did you…?”
His brother’s gaze dropped to the ground. “They’re… not alive. You sense it too, right? They don’t have souls. I, um, did say I tried to fight back, earlier.”
That’s… true. Nightmare had thought “tried” meant he hadn’t been successful. Then again, he supposed there were other ways to breaking their hollow heads than just a ladle or hammer. He wasn’t upset with this revelation, of course. Knowing Dream was able to defend himself well enough was incredibly relieving. It was just strange seeing his little brother in such an aggressive position.
Not for the first time, he cursed the world for taking away more of Dream’s innocent nature.
By no means did he want his brother to be childish and naïve. The blind sightedness and optimistic view on everything and everyone were not helpful in their village. If anything, it was a bit frustrating. There were days Nightmare felt Dream trusted those villagers more than his own brother. Where he could clearly see they just wanted to feel his positive aura up close, Dream only saw potential friends.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t care. His twin’s smiles and happy attitude was something he wanted to see all of the time. He didn’t get that here. Every day, the more they traveled into this hell, he began to doubt he ever would.
The negativity in the air was corrupting their world. He didn’t want it to corrupt his world as well.
“It’s fine,” Nightmare insisted, forcing a smile his brother couldn’t see anyway. He skillfully molded his own emotions like a clay sculpture, the process easy after so many years of pretending. “I was about to do the same anyway. You handled it a lot better than me, though.”
Dream relaxed at that, the tenseness in his shoulders slowly softening. “I… Yeah.”
Nodding, Nightmare turned back to the dresser drawer. “Alright. C’mon. Help me pull this out.”
“Oh, uh. Right!”