Chapter Text
Its been months since Dream has stepped foot on the outside of this prison.
He watches his clock, 24/7, rarely tearing his eyes away from it. He plays with the clock sometimes, approaching it and watching it spin on the wall as he gently swats at it.
He has countless books in a chest, to write. He doesn't know what to write yet. But he knows he'll brainstorm something.
But right now is no time to watch the clock or write, as he writhes on the floor of his cell, desperately scratching at his own body.
Its almost painful, his nails digging into his skin, clawing and searching for the cause of this torture. His skin is roaming with a million tiny legs, crawling through his limbs, eliciting pained screams of terror from the blond. He feels his shoulder blades, and neck, and arms start to bleed, his nails tearing through and eating at his flesh.
Bugs roam the underneath of his skin and tickle the muscle, nipping at the nerves and buzzing through his pores and he can't seem to make it stop.
He begins to cry.
Blood streams down his skin, puddling on the obsidian under him.
And after what feels like hours, the itching and bleeding and screaming seem to die down, along with his energy and will to watch the clock.
Watch the clock.
Watch the clock.
He rolls onto his side, sobbing as his eyes meet with the ticking on the wall.
His skin burns.
He breaks contact for a second to stare at his bloody hands, noticing how the blood builds up under his nails and dries.
The crawling sensation is definitely there, but he can't bring himself to rip through his own body.
He only has one life, after all.
He drifts off into an agonizing sleep, twitching restlessly in the process as small mites continue to torture the depths of his body.