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Sunny was afraid.
His dreams had nearly always been lucid for the past few years as he traversed Headspace with his friends. He’d climbed ladders into space, cut through swathes of spiderwebs with no effort, and swum through the deepest of wells, all while fighting bizarre foes that couldn’t seem to mind their own business. Whatever dangers there may have been, they were no match for Omori and his knife.
However, standing in pitch-black darkness, Sunny felt terribly vulnerable. Through some unknown means, the alter ego he’d hidden behind was gone; this dream—no, nightmare—was clearer than ever, and he was no longer Omori, but himself.
What had happened in that church? Basil had been trapped, Omori had saved him, and then that shadow—the Stranger with no substance save for its glowing stare—had appeared. The events that unfolded after that were a blur, but Sunny could vaguely recall a sudden tangle of black, a flashing dash of white that could have been the Something that stalked him, and...teeth. Lots of teeth, that was for certain.
But where was he now?
All around him was darkness, yet it wasn’t perfect, he realized, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. He could just make out a silvery strip, which, as he slowly walked towards it, grew wider. If it wasn’t his eyes deceiving him, Sunny was almost certain that it was light streaming down from some unknown source above. Each step he took across the oddly smooth floor made no sound, and it almost felt as if this space forbade the existence of sound. Was this whole place some giant room, walled off from all light except for the one spot he could see?
As he neared the light, though, Sunny began to sense something... wrong . The darkness around him felt less thick, but at the same time felt more active: as if many invisible beings were moving about, all of them focused on Sunny’s every move and thought. Is the light really worth it? If I stay in the darkness and do nothing, won’t I eventually wake up and be freed from this nightmare? But Sunny knew his dreams well enough to know when his dreams were more than simple adventuring through Headspace; this dream wouldn’t end that easily.
And either way, it was too late to back out of whatever was in store for him.
“Sunny.”
The sudden voice, the sudden sound , made Sunny realize for the first time how quiet this place had been up until that moment; he started, wildly looking around for the owner of the voice. Had one of the things lurking in the darkness spoken, or was it from the figure standing right in front of him, directly bathed in that silvery glow?
Stranger . Sunny recognized the shadow immediately. Despite the black... Something that surrounded the similarly black figure with a ring of sharp teeth, the odd shadow himself was unmistakable. In the almost artificially black-and-white space, his bright blue eyes stood out strikingly, almost glowing. ...Or maybe they actually were. If the darkness had been unsettling at best, the mere look Stranger gave him was enough to make him want to shrink away and hide.
Who are you? What are you? Where are you from, and why are you here? Are those red footprints you leave behind your blood, or is it something else? Why do you plague me in every corner of Headspace, and what do you want? There were so many questions Sunny had for the enigmatic figure, yet none would come out. While his thoughts raced, Stranger spoke again, voice quiet yet laced with a threatening tone. “If you won’t face the truth, then face me.”
Face the truth? How could he? Through the horrors he’d faced in Black Space not long ago, Sunny was certain he’d buried some memory, Something he couldn’t face, not in his current state. Whatever truth it was, certainly a coward who couldn’t even answer a friend’s good-willed knock wouldn’t be able to handle it. Ignoring that visitor was justified, a voice inside Sunny whispered, because remember the last time you answered someone who wouldn’t stop knocking? Whatever was outside wasn’t worth your mental effort. Sunny so desperately wanted to believe that, but right now, facing Stranger in what could only be the deepest recesses of his imagination, he was beginning to have second thoughts.
Not that his regrets mattered, because Stranger was talking again.
“Face the suffering you’ve caused for the people you love…”
How, when he’d probably made one of his best friends suffer again not two days ago? When he’d even left his dream friends in the crumbling ruins of Basil’s house to enter Black Space?
“The pain of knowing what you’ve lost…”
No. Sunny didn’t want to think about it. The truth, whatever it was, was painful. Omori had always been there to shield him from that. Remembering and realizing losses only made them worse, and he wasn’t going to do that here—well, nowhere, probably, considering the mess he was in right now.
“And the hatred of yourself for being too cowardly to change anything about it.”
He didn’t need to be reminded of that, too. Without Omori to hide behind, Sunny felt his emotions raw, pulling his thoughts downward like a weight that wouldn’t budge. He could have answered that knock, he could have tried to step outside at the very least, yet no matter how strong those feelings may have become, the one last push that would have moved his muscles to do his bidding just couldn’t be . Not enough willpower. And look where that weakness had led him.
“Let those feelings devour you here, until—”
No. Stop . Sunny couldn’t look at Stranger in the eye; the Something around him had begun to look like some indescribable monster, and he was beginning to become wary of that as well, even though it looked ready to bite its owner in half and not him.
“...I,” Sunny said, his voice trembling. “Just…. Leave me alone.”
He immediately regretted his choice of words.
Stranger’s eyes narrowed. “You finally speak to me, and that’s your answer?” The Something around Stranger shivered, and its outline began to waver. “ Face me, Sunny, if you won’t face the truth with me. Or if you’re going to keep acting the coward, then….”
Without warning, the Something around Stranger collapsed, smokelike as it fell onto the ground and sank under Stranger’s feet. It stained the brightly lit floor an inky black and spread forward, darkening whatever shadow Stranger had been casting and making its way toward Sunny. Sunny stumbled backwards, away from Stranger and the spreading pool of darkness; he didn’t understand anything that was happening, but that...that was dangerous.
Eyes riveted on the spreading shadow, which seemed to be slowing down, it took Sunny a moment to notice that the silvery light had grown slightly brighter, and another to realize why: Stranger had disappeared. But where to, when this whole space was devoid of any objects to hide in?
...Oh, Stranger’s a walking shadow. Of course he could vanish anywhere in this darkness. The simplest of answers, yet it hadn’t come to Sunny as common sense. It didn’t take a genius to realize that his mental state was falling into disorientation.
That was when the first blow hit: scooping his legs out from behind him in a sweeping arc.
Then the second: a very large object striking his whole body upwards, into the air.
And then Sunny was falling, falling towards a floor that he could barely see— calm down, his mind screamed, but how could he possibly do that?—before an eye-shaped silhouette struck him from above, accelerating his plummet, and he gasped as his back connected painfully with the ground. Winded, Sunny could only lie in place, opening and closing his mouth in a desperate attempt for oxygen— Do dreams even have oxygen?— only to be pinned down by the shoulders with two black, spindly appendages, furthering his panic. His fragmented thoughts vividly pictured a giant spider looming over him, long legs all around him, its shimmering mandibles closing in for the kill— focus, whispered his conscience, but on what? Those were clearly chitinous fangs!—and Sunny closed his eyes in nausea and fear.
“ Why , Sunny?” the familiar voice, now laced with a growling resonance, reached his ears.
Sunny opened his eyes slowly to meet electric blue eyes narrowed into slits: the whirling tide of emotions behind it could only be Stranger’s, but the shape was all wrong...no, Stranger himself was all wrong. His face tapered into a blunt reptilian snout, and although he still seemed to retain the shadowy colors that blended in with this strange environment, he was much more solid , all transparency replaced and covered with hardened black scales. What had seemed like fangs to Sunny’s panicked brain were actually the whites of Stranger’s eyes, but that realization didn’t help in the slightest.
The growling voice spoke again, and although the creature crouching over him didn’t move, Sunny was certain the voice came from him. “Your imagination is impressive, Sunny. Without it, I don’t think I could’ve changed like this in the first place...but that hardly matters to you, right?”
Slowly Sunny’s eyes took in the light behind Stranger, and saw him for what he was now: a typical four-legged dragon, with each of its forelegs planted on either side of Sunny and oddly-shaped wings—they looked more like bony limbs lined with sharp triangular teeth—holding him down. Floating just at the tip of his tail was that eye-like shape, common to both Sunny and Stranger’s Somethings. Judging from how it had struck Sunny down from his fall earlier, it was probably solid, although it acted weightless, almost feather-like. The dragon’s back seemed to harbor the Something that had disappeared into the ground earlier; the slightly darker patch of color there shifted sluggishly, creating the illusion that Stranger was constantly melting into the shadows.
“Why do you want to leave me so badly?” Stranger’s expression was unreadable (considering he no longer had a human face, that was to be expected), yet his voice rose ever so slightly. “You chose to run, away from your chances to accept the truth, even away from me ...I could leave you to be swallowed by this darkness to wander alone, but what if you find a way out? I can’t let that happen…”
Stranger paused and tilted his head slightly, his eyes finally leaving Sunny if only for a moment. Pondering, it seemed, a certain idea….
Then abruptly his head snapped back, and there was an intensity in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Intensity, and an unsettling clarity. “Why...that’s the answer,” Stranger whispered. “Is that why I’m...the darkness won’t have to swallow you after all...Sunny... we can be together …”
Stranger’s gaze had been unnerving this whole time, but now it was something else entirely. Manic, almost , Sunny thought fleetingly. Emotion, but not in the gradual way it happened for most. For Stranger it was all or nothing, with almost no transition in between. And the idea that had instilled that powerful emotion…. As Stranger’s last words slowly sank into Sunny, he felt his blood turn to ice. That’s not possible, he thought. But this was a nightmare, where everything that worked against him was possible, and he still couldn’t force himself to wake. Lack of willpower once again.
Suddenly, Sunny felt the weight lifted off his shoulders―literally―as Stranger’s wings released their hold on him. He scrambled back, but pain shot through his right leg as he tried to stand; had the fall twisted it somehow? I have to get away if I can’t wake up, I have to get away, or—
Swiftly Stranger’s claws caught Sunny’s crippled leg, and Sunny involuntarily gasped with pain. “Don’t you worry, Sunny.” His jaws slowly parted and a slithering tongue slipped out, rasping across Sunny’s face before retreating. “I’ll make sure you stay down here with me forever.”
Sunny finally found his voice. “Wait, stop, I—”
Stranger lunged, cutting off Sunny’s pleas as he closed his jaws over his head. Sunny flinched as sharp teeth poked threateningly around his chest, but they didn’t sink into him, like he expected them to. Instead came an awful pause, inaction from shock, Sunny with half his body trapped in Stranger’s mouth. It was Stranger who spoke then, voice now reverberating in Sunny’s head louder than ever before: “This is for the best, Sunny. For you...and for me.”
Feeling Stranger release his leg, Sunny renewed his efforts to escape, ignoring the stabs of pain as he kicked wildly. “Let...me...go…” he gritted his teeth, and swung his good leg up. To his surprise, it connected with a soft spot: his captor’s lower jaw, just under the chin.
Stranger hadn’t been expecting any resistance, much less anything that could harm him at all; he recoiled upward, nearly biting his prey in half. “Sunny…!” he hissed, and the fury contained in that one word was so powerful it made Sunny freeze—almost. So lucid was this dream, Sunny had forgotten it actually was one. If I can’t free myself from this monster, I’m going to die.
Sunny was ready to swing another kick at Stranger when he was suddenly forced upward, the tongue heaving below him to press his body against the roof of the dragon’s mouth. Muscle below and palate above, trapping, slickening, suffocating; Sunny weakly tried to move his arms, but pinned to his sides, they were as good as useless. “Please…” he groaned, but strength was leaving him quickly. As his vision gradually darkened, he vaguely felt the tongue beneath him moving again, this time pitching him deeper into the dark, dark maw….
Maybe I deserve this, for trying to run from everything.
The tongue moved again, and Sunny felt his head press against the entrance to the dragon’s throat...
Maybe I should just give up.
A terrible tugging, and pressure all around….
Maybe I should die.
Then his senses shut down.
Stranger didn’t know who he was.
He knew there were other Strangers like him, shadows that wandered Black Space aimlessly. But they couldn’t leave whatever space they were confined to, unlike him. He could enter the many rooms in Black Space as he pleased, and to an extent, some parts of Headspace.
He knew he was Basil. Or part of him, anyway. The part of Basil that knew the truth. Something despised by the master of Headspace. But his emotions, the ones so powerful that took hold whenever he saw Sunny and not Omori...were they from the dream Basil, or somewhere else?
His purpose was to guide Sunny to the truth, hidden here in Black Space. Yet how Sunny ( no, that was Omori ) had chosen to save the innocent dream version of Basil...and how he’d succeeded...that could only mean one thing: Sunny had completely given up on reality, and with it, the truth.
So Stranger had decided to take matters into his own hands. Or claws, he thought, looking down at his transformed state.
It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Sunny had brought this upon himself. Trapped the way he was, Sunny would be with Stranger forever; even if he died here, it would only be the part of conscience Sunny was using to dream that would die. Sunny himself, in the real world, would still be alive, but he’d never be able to escape back into the dream world he so cherished, and….
Feeling movement, Stranger glanced back at his abdomen. So Sunny’s still alive. He thought he’d unintentionally killed him when he swallowed him, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Well, this is technically all being dreamed up; breathing wouldn’t be the biggest worry for Sunny, so it’s no surprise that he didn’t...no, couldn’t die. Realizing this, he felt a strange emotion he couldn’t quite place a finger on. It can’t be elation, he mused. Can it?
Sunny’s struggles grew stronger, and Stranger frowned. Well, mentally, since his facial features didn’t work the same way a human’s did anymore. “Give up,” he said. “Your imagination is what’s driving all this. This isn’t going to end, so you really should….”
Stranger stopped mid-sentence, thinking. Death by digestion would be too horrific, nightmare this may be; but if Sunny was panicking, which he undoubtedly was, then that would probably be what he was thinking about. And Sunny’s subconsciousness was what one of the largest driving forces in Black Space, so….
I can at least save him from that fate. I don’t want my friend to die in a terrible way, and in so much pain...although he deserves it for trying to desert me.
Brace yourself, Sunny. Stranger took a deep breath and bent his legs into a sitting position, letting his full weight rest on the ground—including Sunny, who was struggling harder than ever now. With Sunny’s weight no longer sagging below him but pushed firmly against his body, Stranger could feel his movements with much more definition. Sunny was trying to twist himself so he wouldn’t be crushed, but his leg seemed to be hampering him, and his hands kept slipping uselessly. He probably couldn’t even see them, considering how dark it was everywhere. Stranger sighed, shifting his weight slightly.
Crack.
Stranger blinked.
A second of quiet, then the screaming began; whichever of Sunny’s bones Stranger had just broken, it wasn’t a small one. I’m doing this for you, Sunny. A quicker death. Even if you don’t die, you can’t go far with so many injuries; I can stay with you, together. And Stranger meant it. Alive or dead, Sunny wasn’t leaving him, and that was all that mattered.
Time was no concept in Black Space.
Even then, Omori couldn't help but feel that he had been too late when he finally found Stranger, blue eyes glinting eerily in the endless expanse of darkness.
Noticing Omori, the dragon’s eyes widened, and it stood to flare its wings out, white spikes flashing in an aggressive display. Omori didn’t so much as flinch. Here, not even the most rebellious of shadows could harm him. He moved his hand in a small, commanding motion, and red hands appeared in the grayscale space, roughly grabbing onto Stranger’s legs, then tail, then finally his wings, locking him in place with no effort whatsoever.
Omori strode up to Stranger, knife in hand.
“Let him go.”
And without waiting for an answer— and before Stranger could react at all—Omori struck, knife cutting through Stranger’s scales like paper as he slit the dragon’s belly open with one sweep.
Light. Faint, but still bright and welcoming to his eyes.
Sunny was alive.
He lay gasping on the smooth floor, drenched to the bone and burned in places, shuddering from fear more than from the sudden cold, but he was alive.
Omori had rescued him, and Stranger was gone.
His savior was looking down at his miserable state with that usual stone-faced look, but did there seem to be a hint of relief? Sunny couldn’t be sure. Not that he cared; he was too tired. He needed to escape, to rest, to hide from everything.
And Omori was back.
Sunny hadn’t paid much attention to how Omori looked until now, but seeing the twelve-year-old, so strikingly similar yet different from him, a black-stained knife in one hand an army of red ethereal hands at his command, he was filled with a sense of...reverence. He wouldn’t be able to live without Omori to protect him; the situation earlier had explained that all too clearly. “Thank you...Omori…” he managed to say, before collapsing once again, exhausted. When he looked back up, Omori was still gazing at him with the same expression from before, but one hand was now reaching out toward Sunny. Sunny slowly rose, leaning heavily on his left leg; he took the hand that was offered to him, and Omori pulled him up the rest of the way.
“You’re safe with me now. Rest,” Omori said. It was the first time Sunny had heard him speak. Young, without any authoritative undertones, but calming.
Sunny nodded. The nightmare was finally over.
Basil jumped awake.
What had he done? What had he done? What had he done in that dream?
He’d seen his fair share of nightmares in the past four years, Sunny involved in almost all of them. Sometimes it was simple: Sunny falling down the stairs instead of Mari. Sometimes it was reliving that “accident” until the point where he hung Mari in the tree; only it wasn’t Mari anymore, but he’d somehow tied the noose around Sunny at some point, and his best friend was thrashing from asphyxiation….
But sometimes Basil’s dreams felt like they weren’t his own. The memories of those dreams were much more vague than the more horrific counterparts, impressions like ringing phones, a silvery moon, childish scribbles and puddles being the only parts that he could reflect on. The dream he had just seen felt the same, as if it belonged to someone else, but Basil could remember the details clearer than any other dream—or even the reality that surrounded him right now, in his bedroom.
Unnerved, Basil headed toward the bathroom mirror. Maybe the dream was reality. Maybe he really had turned into a monster to ensure his best friend wasn’t leaving him alone. Although his reflection in the mirror was human, Basil could still remember every sensation the dragon him had felt in the dream, vestigial wings included: Sunny flung high on his back, Sunny pinned under his wingtips, Sunny futilely pushing to escape from his jaws, Sunny limp as he slid down his throat….
The sensation was so terribly real , sickening, and Basil rushed to the toilet—
Sunny struggling inside him, still alive—
He threw up, but nothing came out except acid, burning—
Sunny’s struggles ceasing as he crushed him under his weight—
Basil was sobbing now, shoulders still heaving from nausea—
Red hands grabbing his limbs, squeezing until it hurt—
Shaking, he stood, but he was too afraid to look in the mirror now, for fear that he might see—
The monochrome Sunny, knife in hand―
Basil stumbled back to his room and collapsed on his bed. Why...why would I want to harm Sunny like that? To kill him like that? His thoughts were always a blur; they’d been that way for a long time now, but not like this, eating away at his guilt in a different manner than the Something that frequented him in the worst of nights. Desecrating a dead body was bad enough...and now I’m a potential murderer? What if Sunny’s dead in his room because of that dream―because of me―and no one’s noticed? Tears welled up in his eyes once more, and Basil shook his head. That’s absurd and you know it, he told himself. Dreams can’t kill people. He couldn’t convince himself fully, but at least he had to try. Everything is going to be okay...clear your thoughts….
How long had he been asleep? It was dark outside, and he could see the moon. Either he’d only slept a few hours, or he’d slept for a whole day. Whatever amount of time had passed, though, it hadn’t been enough to get rid of the sensations left over from the dream dragon. Basil hid under his sheets, trying to block out the onslaught of memories.
Maybe I deserve this, Basil thought. This nightmare will devour my senses until I… .
He gasped, realization striking him like lightning. His thoughts were surprisingly stable now, all leading to one answer.
Oh.
The black-and-white Sunny.
He saved Sunny at the end of that dream, and….
He made everything clear for me, didn’t he?
Basil slowly crawled out from hiding, and turned to look at the drawer next to his bed. The top compartment was slightly ajar. Had he left it open, or was it someone― Something ―else? He reached in, and a heavy, cold surface of metal greeted his fingers. The blade of the pruning shears shone in the faint moonlight, and in the darkness, it looked almost exactly like the blade monochrome Sunny had wielded in that dream.
Basil smiled.
“If that’s what you want, Sunny…”
He pointed the blade toward his stomach. Something writhed all around him, its one eye impassively looking on.
Basil’s hands were steady. Sunny had willed this. And if Sunny had chosen to live that way, then there really was no hope, no use for his suffering anymore. Right?
He laughed.
No hesitation.
Red.
red
blood
It’s not Sunny’s, at least.
his blood. everywhere
red
Made a mess of everything, again? For Sunny?
Something’s not gone, too. It’s watching
dull knife
blood
red
blossoming pain
Oh. Am I dying?
breathing shouldn’t hurt
Red everywhere.
Red means blood, so I’m bleeding―
free?
or another curse for him
Yesterday’s dream wasn’t a dream after all. A prophecy, and I―
I—
The shears clattered onto the floor.