Chapter Text
Sitting in a dainty and dimly lit cellar of a kingdom full of monsters he despised was not something he thought he would be doing on this fine evening.
Alas, here he was, sitting on a dirty mattress laid upon an even dirtier floor of his holding cell. The only things he heard in the deafening silence that echoed throughout the little room he was in were his own rapid and uneven breaths as he desperately tried to stay conscious as the panic started to set in.
The fear of never waking up, along with the adrenaline flowing through his veins and clogging up his bloodstream, was his only way to stay conscious.
He knew this had to be done for Essempi and his people. For Dream.
He was scared of what was to come, but he wasn't unhappy, quite the opposite even. When the plan goes into action, (not if, there's never an "if" with Dream, he's the smartest person Tommy knows, after all) and if maybe he survives the whole ordeal, Dream would definitely be proud of him, and that's all that matters in the long run.
However, Tommy isn't getting his hopes up yet, after all, he is in the belly of the beast.
Like all the children from Essempi, he heard the old tale about three horrible monsters ruling a kingdom made of corpses, bodies that once belonged to his kingdom's people, on a land that was once upon a time theirs.
The beasts that inhabited said kingdom were said to be no less terrifying, humanoid creatures that feasted on fear and flesh of the vulnerable.
The "citizens" of this place were already scary enough to make him uneasy enough to have goosebumps, but the three so-called rulers of this place were far, far worse than simple animalistic barbarians.
The least scariest monster of the three, in his humble opinion, was The Siren. He was humanoid, even could pass as a human, but still was no less of a horrific monster than the other two. He could manipulate people with his voice, lure them in by showing their sweetest dreams, and torture them by showing their worst nightmares. Not only that, but he was the crown prince of the wretched kingdom.
On the other hand, his twin, or The Blade, as everyone liked to call him, didn't have much of a way with words, because he didn't need a silver tongue to get the job done. He was a true beast, with giant gnarly scars all across his body from countless battles and big tusks growing from his gums that could penetrate the skin in one swoop, not unlike those of the piglins from the Nether. He overheard some of the knights saying that the swords he fought with were twice his height and made of netherite and magic, he was the other prince, and a general, so Tommy wouldn't be surprised if the rumours were in fact true.
Finally, the third, and the most terrifying monster of them all was The Angel of Death. He was called an Angel for the giant obsidian wings that sprouted from his back, alas, that's where all the similarities ended. He was by far the most cruel of them all, even killing other monsters with wings to become one of a kind. Even though he didn't have any sympathy for the beasts, he did feel an ounce of pity, because the death they were subjected to he wouldn't have wished even for them. His gaze was said to be so cold and piercing that his victims would fall over even before he could touch them with his bony elderly fingers.
And that's the most terrifying part of him. His touch. A bare twitch of his fingers in your direction can lead to the most horrific passing, that's where the "death" part of the Angel of Death comes in. No one actually knows how it happens, but some claim that the victim's skin turns grey, and they instantly turn to ash from their life being sucked out of them. This is surprisingly a pretty sound explanation since the guy is as old as the universe itself and might need the assistance of some young souls to not keel over from his raging arthritis.
He wonders what would the Angel do to him if he heard some peep squeak calling him old... Nope, his thoughts won't wander to torture today, no thanks.
Anyway, back on topic. The next thing on Tommy's list about all things wrong with this guy is a personal grievance.
Tommy isn't human himself.
He's not a monster though, of course. He thinks like a human and behaves like a human, no weird barbarian urges monsters have. Dream made sure of it.
The only thing to show for his monster heritage, are the two fluffy golden wings on his back.
And it's a huge deal in itself, of course, but now it's even more humongous of a deal. He's not in the Essempi, there's no Dream to protect him from the wrath of The Angel of Death for having wings like him. Tommy's scared to think about what will happen when the monster realizes that there's one more of his kind left, that he failed to eradicate all of his race. Will he feel so much rage that he will rip them out himself? Even though he isn't the biggest fan of his appendages, he would still prefer to leave the honours to Dream. At least from him, that would be an act of kindness.
He'll just have to pray that Dream was right, that they will take their sweet time toying with him, that the plan will go into action and that he will eventually get rescued.
But, as his Regent and dearest friend Dream said, Tommy was always an optimist...