Chapter Text
Dream massaged his temple, a headache pulsating just under the skin there. Throughout the past thirty minutes, he's explained why there's a ghost in his store despite the many, many, many interruptions from Tommy and Tubbo. All of this while said ghost silently hovered over a chair beside Dream. The blonde cast a concerned look to the spector, Ranboo looking down at the table with an air of guilt seemingly radiating off of him. Dream looked at Tubbo and Tommy, the two friends lost in their own conversation.
"Hey," Dream called softly. Ranboo looked in his direction, not quite meeting his eyes. "Are you okay?" From the corner of his eye, Dream notices Tubbo glance across the table at them. There's no reply for a moment.
"I just- I feel bad." The ghost replied, his voice chilling, causing Dream to fight back a shiver. "They-they were in the room my body was in, the last room I was in, the room I died in! and I-I don't know! I just got angry, and they were scared and normally I hate it when people are scared of me," The ghost spoke quickly, his words borderline hysterical with matching hand movements. Yet at the end of his sentence, Ranboo trailed off, meeting Dream's eyes. "I usually have the urge to scare people so I can stay energized but I can control it. But this time, I-I couldn't and I liked it, I wanted them to be scared of me, Dream. I want you to be scared of me. And that scares me." The ghost draws his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them in a comforting manner.
Dream feels his expression soften, worry and an almost overprotectiveness washing over him. "Fight it a little longer, okay? We'll figure out you're murder and we'll figure out how to help you from there, alright?" A nod from the ghost. Dream attempts to place a comforting hand on Ranboo's shoulder, the teen instead flinching away. For a second, Dream was surprised but quickly gave him a small smile instead.
"Tubbo, Tommy. Would you like to help us solve this or do you want a ride home?"
The two shared a look before Tubbo spoke up excitedly. "We'd like to help!" The brunette looked to Ranboo, his enthusiasm faltering. "As long as nothing else unexpected happens." The teen stated, raising a brow in Ranboo's direction. The ghost nodded, a quiet sorry filling the silence.
Dream fake coughed into his hand, directing the attention to himself instead of it being on Ranboo. "Anyway, thank you for deciding to help us. We'll have to call the police for Ranboo's bones, but for now I do have some good news." Dream motioned to the stack of papers now neatly stacked in front of him. He picked up the piece of paper on the top of the stack, sliding it to Ranboo.
"Ranboo, what do you know about Michael Beloved?"
The glass of red liquid seemed to warm his hands as he was led further down. Despite every instinct telling him to run, Ranboo allowed himself to be led down the stairs until he reached the basement. The basement was dimly lit save for the few red tinted light bulbs that seemed to be randomly placed. Ranboo was shocked at the actual size of the basement, a hand on his shoulder breaking him out of his amazement.
So many people were in the basement, their formal wear ranging from black fabrics to differing shades of red. Ranboo felt fear strike his heart, ice coursing through his veins as he was led through the crowd. Banners hung from the walls, the name "Eggpire" stitched into them. Just like upstairs, the people here had their faces covered.
Nervously, Ranboo kept looking around as he was led through the crowd, his shoulders up defensively. Fear and anxiety curled in his chest, a mixture that made Ranboo feel twice as aware of his surroundings. No one seemed to pay him any mind, which made the teen feel even more wary of the situation. What the hell was going on down here?
A strong, pungent scent was in the air, one that smelled almost metallic. Immediately, looked at the glass of red liquid in his hand. Upstairs he had been too frantic to notice the smell of it, now that he was almost too aware of his surroundings, he noticed how similar to blood it appeared. Fighting the growing tremble in his hands, Ranboo tears his gaze from the cup and to the area in front of him.
A table with a white table cloth came into view, it's length larger than his shared bedroom. Seven chairs were stationed against the table, awaiting diners to take their seats. The seven chairs were paired with seven bowls, seven sets of cutlery beside each of them. A vase of roses sat in the center of the table, petals almost sickly colored despite the otherwise healthy look of the plants.
"Go on, Dear, take a seat. We'll begin shortly." Nervously, Ranboo nods and takes a seat at the table as directed. He didn't know what would be 'started shortly,' but whatever it takes to get Michael out of here.
Ranboo looked down at the soup as he set his cup down. It smelled and looked similar to the liquid in his cup. As he sat down, a sudden hunger for it washed over his mind despite his wariness of the smell. His mouth went dry, his stomach paining for something to eat despite him not feeling hungry minutes ago. Ranboo tore his gaze away and instead looked to the rest of the table.
Bowls, spoons, forks, and the usual decorated the table. All of it seemed to be of much higher quality than he was used to. Ranboo reached for an oddly folded piece of paper a few inches in front of him. The teen turned it around, finding his name in an oddly nice font. Dread sunk like a stone in his stomach. Ranboo placed the nameplate back on the table and reached for the one beside him.
'Michael.'
Unable to suppress the shakiness of his hands, the teen placed the nameplate back where it was. It was at this point the situation became real to him. He was in a random basement, surrounded by people who were most likely dangerous, unarmed, and his brother was missing. Ranboo's chest heaved, his control of his breathing slipping through his fingers like sand. He dug his fingernails into his palms, attempting to ground himself. He rested his head against the edge of the table, able to feel the cold wood through the table cloth.
"Welcome one, and all to the seventy-eighth eggpire meeting!"
After the statement, a loud cheer erupts from the crowd. A pause of silence, then the sounds of more people approaching the table. Startled, Ranboo looks up and surveys his surroundings. More children of various ages sit at the table. Some look terrified, other's confused, and one kid resigned. Like he knew what he was getting into. He seems to be older than Ranboo, holding himself in a way that said he was much older mentally than he was physically. The sight of the other children simultaneously makes chills go down Ranboo's spine and for his hope to increase. He looks to the seat beside him, hoping Michael's short form will come to occupy the seat. It takes a moment or two before his brother approaches.
The eight year old is dressed in his pajamas, one of Ranboo's white zip-up hoodies covering his bedshirt. The hoodie was much too big on Michael, the sleeves hanging by his sides. The two locked eyes and a joyous smile made its way onto his face. "Boo!"
Ranboo felt relieved tears enter his eyes at the sight of his excited brother. Michael takes the seat beside him, scooting his seat closer. Ranboo holds his brother's hand under the table, bringing his attention to the crowd.
The sight of glowing red eyes staring back at him brings back the reality of the situation.
"Now, I'm sure you're all aware of the meetings we hold annually." A murmur of agreement spreads throughout the crowd. "In these meetings we induct new members into the Eggpire, we make their lives better by giving them a taste of the Egg itself. Tonight, we have seven new members."
Ranboo looks at the speaker. They seem to be tall man with jet black hair and pale skin. They had a lean build. Their voices sounded similar to the one upstairs yelling about muffins. Ranboo guessed they were related? He shook the thought away, instead focusing on how they were going to get out of here. The crowd began to clap, the sound was odd after a few second pause of silence. Like they hadn't all decided to clap at once.
The clapping had died down, and Ranboo looked to Michael. The two brothers made eye contact and Ranboo opened his mouth to whisper a plan. The action had been interrupted by a familiar voice from upstairs yelling-
"The police are here!"
At the statement what little sense of organization the crowd had completely goes away.
People in the crowd are running in various directions, Ranboo can only watch as some of them try to go up the stairs, while some exited through the basement door leading outside.
Despite the panic spreading throughout the room, seven people dressed in dark shades of red ran from the opposite side of the room towards the table. Panicked, Ranboo stands up, his chair nearly tipping over. He looks to the teen older than him, the two making eye contact for a split second before nodding to one another. "Half of you go with me, the other half stay with him!" Ranboo says to the other kids, motioning his head to the other boy. Looking back to the approaching danger, Ranboo quickly bends down, picking Michael up and holding his hand out to one of the other kids. A little girl with dark skin and dark brown eyes stared up at him. She seemed to be Michael's age and was holding hands with a boy much younger.
Ranboo looks up, the approaching people a few feet from the table. Quickly dropping the girl's hand, he picked up his bowl of soup and threw it at the person's head. Only a split second later, another bowl hits one of the other guys.
With some of the people distracted, and his hand in the girl's, Ranboo bolts for the stairs. He ducks and weaves between people, being sure to keep a firm grip on the little girl's hand and on Michael. They nearly reached the stairs when a man in a dark red suit blocked the path. Not losing speed, Ranboo turns sharply towards the other exit, pushing past people. This side of the room was easier to get through, Ranboo pushing past people as blurs of red and black passed in the corner of his eye. Michael's chin rested on his shoulder, his hands clinging to Ranboo's shirt as he ran.
Soon the group reached the steps leading to the exit, freedom only a few feet away. Shoving his way through the people already there, Ranboo climbed the stairs, making sure the other kids were still with him. They had reached the top when a hand suddenly grabbed the back of his shirt. Panicked, Ranboo dropped Michael and let go of the girl's hand. Before he knew it, Ranboo was falling down the stairs. "Ranboo!" Michael called out once recovering from his own fall.
Ranboo managed to catch himself awkwardly on his hand, a burst of pain spreading down his arm from his wrist. The teen winced before looking up. "Run!" He shouted to the kids, The curly haired girl and little boy quickly running away. Michael stayed behind for a moment, tearfully looking at Ranboo as the man in dark red approached his older brother. Despite his fear, Ranboo sends his brother a smile. A second later, he's gone.
"You can't escape us. You've seen too much." The man in red says. Despite the pain in his hand, and surely bruised legs, Ranboo forces himself to stand. Immediately, he charges for the man, knocking the man down. Ranboo is sure to knock his head against the edge of the stairs before forcing himself to stand up and climb the stairs. A hand wraps around his ankle as he climbs up. He stumbles again, barely catching himself as his palms make contact with the wood stairs. The teen kicks out blindly, his foot making contact with something before being freed.
Once free, Ranboo bolts. The night air tears its way down his lungs like it had before, burning his throat as it filled his lungs. He paused in the middle of the backyard, surveying the surroundings. The backyard seemed to be entirely fenced, preventing him from getting to the front yard. Without another place to go, Ranboo went to the side of the house. A gate stood in the way with a few trash cans beside it. Without losing momentum, he jumped on one of the trash cans and used it to jump over the fence. He landed awkwardly on his feet, only stumbling a few steps before running to the front yard.
With relief he found cop cars parked in front of the house. A smile finds his way onto his face, relief flooding his veins.
The relief was quickly washed away by the sight of people from the 'party' fighting back. The three cops Ranboo could see were being overwhelmed.
The sound of shoes behind him caused Ranboo to make a decision. He turns left, avoiding the fights happening. He's running now, motivated by the sound of shoes on the concrete behind him. It's a direct parallel of him running to find Michael, he's all alone and his life may just change forever if he slows down at all.
Houses blur in his peripheral vision as he runs, finally reaching the end of the street. People at the party most likely lived in the houses nearby, no way in hell was he trying to knock on any doors. The kids most likely went right, that's the general direction of home. With that knowledge, Ranboo darted left towards the city.
He feels drunk off adrenaline and the need to just get away. The cold air forces warm tears to fall from his eyes, the burning in his legs and lungs increasing as he reaches the edge of the city. He makes a turn down a street, local stores now lining the sidewalk instead of houses. The concrete sidewalk turns to mud, some of it sticking to his shoes and pant legs. Ranboo's legs feel like they're on fire, his lungs screaming for a break.
The sound of the man's footsteps echo throughout the abandoned street. He forces himself to keep running, ignoring the pain. His vision tunnels on a store in the distance, hoping he could at least hide there. He reached the door of the store when someone gripped his shoulder. The man's grip on him was like iron as Ranboo was lifted up. He heard someone scream, unsure if it was himself, before the sounds of shattering glass flooded his ears.
When he opened his eyes- when had he shut them? - he was inside the store, laying on the ground while pain spread throughout his body. His wrist, his legs, his lungs, his back, it all hurt so much. Ranboo attempted to move, finding himself unable to.
From the outside, the man was staring at him, his eyes now visible. His eyes were a vibrant red, seeming to glow in the dark lighting. Ranboo's vision went dark, coming back a second later blurred and with the taste of iron in his mouth. When his eyes open, he finds the man now staring down at him. Panic floods the teens mind, and he wants to get up and run or fight back but he can't move. Hot blood trails out of his mouth as tears fight their way down. He opens his mouth, and despite how much energy it takes, he pleads.
"Please, please, please-" A sob breaks his words as he watches the man reach into his pocket. "Please, please."
The gun gleams in the moonlight as it's pointed at him. Red eyes are behind it.
He can't move, can't speak. He's paralayzed. He hopes Michael is safe.
A bang is the last thing he hears, and then it's all gone.
Pain, fear, worry, all gone.
A now eighteen year old Michael jolts awake.