Chapter Text
Breakfast was a routine shared by all five members of Nightmare's little... group. It was something Horror himself insisted upon, and Nightmare agreed it was a good way to make sure they all got along. Killer normally brought absurd stories to the table to entertain them through their usual omelets or whatever Horror happened to make that day, today happened to be pancakes with bacon and eggs placed on top to make a smiley.
Dust and Nightmare had long since learned to tune out Killer's stories, it didn't take much effort as he seemed to just be rambling about whatever came to mind, however while Nightmare was smart enough to bring a book to read, Dust wasn't so lucky. He'd forgotten to charge his phone last night too, so he didn't even have the comfort of digital text to keep his mind alert. Dust stared blankly at his breakfast, eyelights hazy around the edges, the blue and red practically becoming purple.
Killer's story stops abruptly when Dust's face meets the food face on the table. Everyone stares at the hooded skeleton for a long moment before daring to catch his attention. "Dust...?" Nightmare asks from the head of the table, setting down his cup of tea and his book. When he gets no response, Cross reaches over and gently pokes his side. That got Dust's attention, the skeleton jerking up suddenly, making Cross flinch back.
Again, silence falls over the table, but only for a few moments before Killer interrupts it with snickers, which grow into giggles, until he's in the pits of a full-blown laughing fit. Dust's eggs and bacon had somehow stuck to his face, and it now looked as if he were as cheery as the breakfast Horror had made for them. Dust quietly peels the food off his face, setting it back down on his otherwise untouched plate.
"Dust... are you alright?" Nightmare asks, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table, something he only did when he was seriously addressing something to all of them. Dust shrugs, "About as alright as normal..." He half-heartedly responds. Nightmare frowns, predictably dissatisfied with this answer. "Could you elaborate? Are your dreams getting to you again?" He asks. Dust thinks for a moment, rubbing his skull.
His nightmares were mostly rather predictable, the usual murder spree he'd gone on centuries ago, but those didn't bother him nearly to this extent anymore. It wasn't those, but what it truly was... He shakes his head, "I... I don't remember..." He mumbles to his pancakes. His boss hums softly, leaning back in his chair once more, "Would you like me to accompany you tonight to find the problem?"
Dust drums his fingers on the table. Nightmare wouldn't let this go, not that he knew what the issue was, either because Dust wouldn't be at his best or out of genuine concern he could never fully tell. He sighs, "Yeah... probably for the best." He grumbles, rubbing his sockets. Nightmare nods, "Eat your breakfast, and let me know when you are ready for bed tonight." He says simply, going back to his book as Killer has calmed down from his laughter, and launched into yet another ludicrous story. Dust did his best to pay attention.
~~~
The night had come much faster than either of them realized. Silence blanketed the castle comfortingly as everyone settled in, except for Nightmare. He stood outside Dust's room, waiting for his signal. Two knocks and he was in, his subordinate dressed in a ratty t-shirt and some sort of slack pajama pants, his beloved scarf neatly folded on his bedside table.
Without a word, Nightmare sat on Dust's bed, and Dust laid down with his head in his boss's lap. It was the easiest way for Nightmare to enter someone's dreams, though it felt quite awkward for the mortal at first, over time he'd simply come to accept it as another part of his life, though rarely it occurred as his sleep settled into something normal. Tonight sleep came quick, as it always did when Nightmare was around, and with sleep came a new batch of unsettling dreams.
The landscape was hazy, shifting slowly from a barren wasteland covered in snow with blizzard winds rushing by, to a shimmering corridor sparkling with golden light rays peeking through tall windows, to dark, filthy environments with white monsters lurking in the corners of one's vision. Regardless of the environment, the experience stayed the same.
Dust laid flat on his back, staring up into the ceiling as something held his soul up high, higher than should be possible, farther away than was comfortable. He watched the fragile heart beat steadily, magic edged with a dull purple that still fascinated the creature that held it aloft despite the countless nights of this dream recurring. He can feel it poke and prod at the core of his very being.
He finds his limbs heavy, any movement he made was slow as if he were submerged in something thick and heavy. It weighed on his arms, his legs, his chest, his head. As did happen every night, the creature finally relinquishes his soul, watching with bated breath as it returns to his chest, phasing smoothly through cotton and calcium alike.
Tonight felt special to the creature, and it began tearing through his shirt with dark tooth and claw. It hisses with delight as it views its prize, Dust's soul tucked right where it should feel safest. It began to beat quicker behind his exposed rib cage, and though he felt he could not take a breath, he felt the need to hyperventilate as he felt the thing's claws rake down his bones, slow and steady. Its eye flicks to his face, and they're bathed in golden light once again.
Red seeps from a wound spread across Dust's chest, and the creature's attention once again shifts. It gasps softly, delighted by the new color, watching silently as the substance oozes and drips slowly, pooling below him and staining the marble floor.
Nightmare could only watch as the creature studies his subordinate in his most vulnerable state. How he could not remember these dreams the immortal did not understand, they were certainly something that the wakeful mind could recall, willingly or not. Suddenly the creature looks up, and Nightmare's soul drops. He's met with a face similar to his own, and yet oh so different.
Sludge covers its features, yet the emptiness of a broken socket was unmistakable, even coated in darkness as it was. Teeth were stained a deep green, almost like that of a pine needle in the dead of winter. Its arms took on a bluish hue, with skeletal hands on the ends matching the sickly green its face took, like the thing was wearing some kind of long sleeve shirt. Gold bands curl around its wrists, collarbone, and waist, but beyond the waist it was impossible to say what limbs there were. Second most remarkable was the tentacles, curling and undulating slowly, like it was thinking hard about its next movement. What was truly most remarkable about the creature though was its one good eye. The full rainbow swirled brightly within its eyelight, circling around a small white star.
Nightmare stared at the thing, and it stares back into him. The two locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before it finally had the first word.
"Nighty?"
The word felt like it did not fit in the creature's mouth. It reached a clawed hand toward Nightmare. Its mouth stretched into a wide grin as it stood, running toward him with open arms.
Dust snaps awake, sitting bolt upright immediately, gasping for air as he clutches at his chest. Nightmare paid him no mind yet, his mind reeling from what he'd seen. That creature, that thing, must be the source of Dust's horrid dreams.
So why did it look so much like Nightmare?