Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Project Boo. That's his name now. It had been Ran before hand, but ever since his mother died the people refused to call him that. The people said it would help with the grief if he had everything of his mother taken away and forgot about her. The hole in his heart was still there. The only person to ever kiss him goodnight, the only person to read him a bedtime story before bed, the only person to make sure the food was enough to feed him, was gone. It was all gone. He wanted to fall asleep as she told him a story about the creatures of the see who would come to rescue them. She had worshipped Poseidon and The Dragon. She prayed every night to them to save them. Project Boo has learned that it was a lie. A bullshitting lie. Gods don't exist. If they did then why did they let his Mom die? Why did they let their most loyal worshipper die? Why not send someone to save her?

There was a crackle from the box above him. "Project Boo, it's time for a shot. Please come to the door. If you attack, well you know what's coming."  A voice boomed from it. He covered his ears that pointed outwards. He whimpered as he felt the pain of a whip connecting to their back. He fell forward and swallowed a sob. No crying. Not only they punish you for it, but your body will too. A voice in Project Boo's head murmured as if trying to comfort him. He pushed himself up to their trembling knees and slowly walked towards the door. He looked back at the wall. There was no whip. So why had they felt it?

Maybe they were just going crazy.

The door moves out of the way for a man in a white coat and blue gloves to reveal him. "It's your lucky day!" The man says cheerfully. "We have a special guest. Someone tried to break in and mess with our generator. Our only source of power here. At least for now." The man placed a hand on the back of his head. "Without the generator all the doors would open and there would be nothing to protect you from the monsters."

"..."

"You finally learned to let the cat keep your tongue. Good good." The man laughed and ruffles his hair. "You are growing really nicely." Project Boo glanced at all the other doors in the hall. It only led to other rooms. Project Boo followed the man to the room where they were going to get their shot. They had gotten one earlier. A vaccination so they didn't get sick. This one was gonna be different. "We arrived~!" The man sung.

"Took you long enough." The woman says to the man. "Keep an eye on this one." She gestured to a man with multi colored hair. The colors reminded him of an animal his mom once told him about. What was it? It lived in the forest most of the time, it was an orange-red color, and...

Fox. That's a fox colored hair. The voice in his head answered. Project Boo tried not to smile at the voice in his head. His name is Fundy. Project Boo was confused how the voice knew the fox man's name, but the voice was technically him right? So maybe he was giving the man a name? Why would Project Boo do that? Not naming the insane people or the people like him kept him from getting attached. So he won't get hurt.

The woman left and the man stood between the two of them. "Well Mr Pirate Man, since you are so curious about why we were using the generator in a building abandoned fifty years ago, why don't I show you?" The man picked up a needle and a syringe.

"You're all psychos who experiment on children." The fox man, Fundy, growled. "Why do you all wear the stereotypical outfit? Can't you be more creative?"

"I can." The man says, "but I like it." Something about the man's voice made Project Boo throw up. "Some here prefer red, black, and other colors that can hide the blood from the more violent... medicine." The man grew a dark smirk as he grabbed Project Boo's arm. "I like the white so the blood can stain it. Doesn't blood splattered all over your clothes make you look so awesome?"

This dude probably has a knife and blood kink. The voice in his head had him swallow a giggle. He barely understood a kink. He doesn't know why it was funny. Probably because of the shot. He always got giggly whenever the shot is given to them. His mom said it helped with the pain. It hasn't worked yet, but it will one day. He was sure of it. Giggling wasn't allowed as well. No noise was allowed to come from him.

"You're fucked up." This Fundy snarled. "Why would you do this to a child?"

"To put money in my pocket." The man chuckles darkly. "Don't worry about the child. He's perfectly okay with this. Besides, he's an orphan. Who is he gonna run crying to? His mom? His dad?" The man chuckles. "No one will miss him if he dies." The man pushes Project Boo's neck back a little bit. "This shot should make him smaller and needs to be injected into a vein. A vein on his wrist would do, but this is far more fun." The man brushed a thumb over Project Boo's cheek. "Keep your eyes open, my precious project." He smiled down on at Project Boo.

Keep your hands off him! He leave him alone! Leave him alone you sick freak! Project Boo kept his eyes on the fox man in front of him. The needle poked the skin over his vein. "Keep your hands off him!" The fox hair colored man tried to lunge, but his wrists and legs pulled together tightly. The fox man let out a cried as something in ropes stabbed his wrists.

"Why do you care about him?" The bad man asked. "You don't know him. Why would you endanger yourself for a child who is an orphaned freak?"

"Because I am not a heartless person."

The bad man pushed the needle all the way into the vein as the back of the syringe was pushed down. Leaving the thing down the bad man stormed to the Fundy. "You have no right to imply I am heartless. You know nothing about me Mr Pirate Man." The bad man seethed. The bad man whipped the back of his hand against the Fundy's face. Project Boo could only stare dully. He had no chance of fighting the man. He was too small. Far too small. Too small. He was too small. He was too small. The bad man was too tall. The bad man was like six feet tall. He would have to be at least six feet tall to stand a chance. But no. He was too small. It wasn't worth it.

Their vision flashed between white and black as their legs grew weak. His knees clapped together. You aren't breathing! Breathe! I need you to breathe! I need you to breathe in order to see! The voice in his head called out. Breathe. How do you breathe? He attacked the floor knees first, hands a second after, and half a second after his head followed. "Project Boo - oh shit!"

The bad man ran over to him. The Fundy man temporarily forgotten. Breathe! Give me sight back so I can help! The voice hollered. The voice was him right? Project Boo doesn't know. Project Boo didn't know. Project Boo can't - Fuck! Something came down harshly on his back. He let out an ear damaging scream. Project Boo fell to the floor and landed on his hands and knees. Something strikes his back again.

"Go unconscious already! Shit! Shit! I fucked up!" The bad man exclaimed pulling at his hair with one hand.

"What the hell did you do?!" The Fundy man exclaimed. "Kid!" The Fundy man got a face full of the floor.

Project Boo raised his head and found himself almost eye level of where this Fundy's head rose. He should be at chest level with how the man was leaning forward. Project Boo tried to open their mouth, but couldn't. Something metallic and coopery slides his down his throat. It felt slimy. Some watery slime rolled down his chin. A gloved hand grabbed his chin and the other went to his hair. Project Boo wanted to scream again but couldn't as the bad man ripped something out of place. More of the slimy water went down his throat.

"God damnit!" The man threw a punch against Project Boo's face. "Did you have to enlarge your fucking fangs?! Now there are holes in your beautiful lips." The voice in Project Boo's head gagged and so did the Fundy man. "You were supposed to be smaller!" A finger hooked under his fangs. "Great now I have to reverse everything!"

"I think that would be your fault." The Fundy informs. "You're the one who gave them the shot."

"My beautiful project! The only reason why I'm still around here!" The bad man exclaimed. "Destroying himself!" Something leathery was shoved into his mouth. It clicked behind his head. "This should be able to handle your fangs until I can reverse this fucking shit." Before Project Boo could react to all of this a hand came at his neck and everything went purple.

When Project Boo woke up on the cold floor. The room was different. The walls were white instead of this crayon yellow like it had been before. There was no bed - only a pile of blankets on the other side of the room - and a vent about the size of his claws. Holy shit! He has claws! He fucking has claws? When did this happened?!  He glanced down at his legs. Why was his legs so long?! He let out a surprise scream which was muffled by the leather thing in his mouth. "Fut laf truck had been?!"

He claws poked at the leather. What was this thing? Why was it here? What did it want from Project Boo? Project Boo tried to stand up, craving something. Food? Blankets? Head pats? Head pats sound nice. Project Boo would like a head pat. And someone to brush his hair. Project Boo shivered suddenly feeling all the tangles in his hair.  Ugh. His knees decided to hit the ground. Water dripped from their eyes. A soft sizzling sound and a small strip of steam rose from his cheek where the water ran down. He tried to remove it with his sleeves, but only felt something burn his arms. His sleeves! He always had long sleeves put on him after his shot! His sleeves looked like they had been cut off. Unable to pull himself up he rolled onto his back. He rolled onto his stomach. Project Boo felt like a pencil rolling off of the bad man's desk as he rolled towards the blankets. Project Boo used one blanket to dry the water off of his face. What was the word for it again?

"..."

Nothing. Was the voice gone? Was his only companion gone? Well technically the voice was himself, but still! It kept him a little sane in this. Project Boo wrapped himself up in the blanket that was warm and fluffy and not the one he had used to dry his face with. He learned from the towel and straps incident. Project Boo once wrapped in blankets sat there waiting. How much time has passed? Did he sleep through food day? Were they gonna come back to see how Project Boo was doing? The bad man for sure. Definitely. He needed Project Boo to be in top condition didn't he? How much longer until someone came in the check up on him? How much longer until someone comes in? Was Project Boo gonna meet another Project? They only move Project Boo into another room when he was supposed to meet another Project to see if they would get along  or when they needed to give Ran's mother a shot.

Project Boo jumped when there was a sliding open door. A tray with applesauce (at least according to Ran's mother) and bread was pushed in. Not able to stand yet he crawled hurriedly to the food. His vision went in and out as he made it to the tray. He grabbed at the bread and shoved it at his mouth, but the leather thing there. It was in the way. Desperately they clawed at it. There was a collection of chuckles before the door closed. Oh. They gave him what he needed when he needed it, but couldn't have it. They crawled back over to the blanket. They let their face burn as they fell asleep.

"Don't worry, just stay asleep, I'll get this thing off of you I swear." A voice that sounded very familiar muttered into his ear. "Just don't panic!" The voice sounded like a small cry. This made Project Boo groan and open his eyes. His vision was dimmer than it should be. Especially with bright lights in the room.

"Hergh?" He could make out a figure though. A teenage boy with blond hair in a thick green hoodie and pajama shorts with no shoes was kneeling in front of him. "Who are you?" He tried to look through his memories to see if there was any recollection of a project that looked ninety-nine percent human. It came up with a painful headache and a flash of white.

"Dream. I don't fully understand how I got here, but according to the books Papa had in her library -"

That voice was so god-damn familiar. Where had he heard that voice before? Dream? He doesn't recall a Project Dream. He must be new here. Looks like a Project died. They only get new ones when projects die. "I never heard of a Project Dream before." Project Boo cut off this Project's rambling. "Have they told you what they wanted out of you? They do tell some projects, but not all of them. They told my mother that they wanted her for trans sports and/or something." Project Boo shrugged.

"I'm not a project. I'm... It's gonna be a long story. Let's get that gag off of you first." The 'Not Project' tapped the leather thing around his mouth. "Cause hearing you in my head instead of through your mouth is weird." The boy reached around Project Boo's head to take it off, but then his hands went through Project Boo's head. "That is a little freaky to you isn't it? Sorry."

What the fuck? Project Boo wondered. Then it clicked. The voice was familiar. "You're the voice that's been in my head!" Project Boo made a muffled sound around the leather.

"Not by choice. I have not wanted to watch any of that. Especially the whippings, the water boarding, or the shots." The 'Not Project' sighed rubbing his forehead as he tried to think of a way to get the leather gag off. Sure they have a fine way of communicating, but if its in the head no one else will hear what is going on. At least no one from his side of things. The 'Not Project' looked over at the tray of food. The bread laid on the floor crumpled up. The applesauce looked like it had flecks of mold in it. And there was nothing to drink. Something about seeing how the food was for the kid made Dream want to make them cake.

"STOP! STOP! STOP!" A familiar voice to both of them (more to Dream than Project Boo) hollered out. "Leave my fur alone!" There was a scent that made Project Boo swallowed back vomit. The 'Not Project' stared at the door way. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" The smell of something burning could be heard. And like that the 'Not Project' ran out of the room. "RRRRAAAAHHHH!!!"

The 'Not Project' ran back into the room. "Follow me, I'm connected to you here! I can't help him if you're remain in here!" The 'Not Project' held out his hand like he knew Project Boo couldn't walk on his own right now.

"I can't."

"Don't worry, I'll kick anyone's ass who dares to approach you! I need to save my crewmate!"

"I can't! I can't walk through walls and they won't unlock the door until I don't know when! I can't leave!" Project Boo say the voice's face shatter as another painful scream filled the building. "Get out. Shoo! You're just my hallucination so if I wield you away you'll go away right?!"

"Hallucinations don't work like that." The voice replied sounding annoyed, pissed, and also sad. "However I'm not a hallucination so -"

Mother always told Ran hallucinations were for people who are losing control of themselves (at least in the simplest terms she could put it in when a six year old Ran told her about the voice in his head). Project Boo never had control himself. Others always had him in their control. Now that he was older the hallucinations were gonna become visible weren't they? Stronger. Maybe one day they were gonna be strong enough to kill him. He covered his ears and hides in his blankets on the hard cold floor.

"RRRAAAGGGHHH!!!"

Chapter Text

Little Ran placed an ear to his Mom's chest. Her heartbeat soothing him. She was grateful he hadn't been awake to see his Mama get taken away. She prayed that he was too young to remember her so he didn't have to feel the grief she was feeling. "I see your monsters, I see your pain, Tell me your problems, I'll chase them away, I'll chase them all away, I'll be your light house, When I see your monsters I'll stand there so brave, and I'll chase them all away -"

"Stop with the damn singing you freak!" A woman bellowed outside the room. "You aren't some fucking Disney Princess!"

"Leave her alone. She's trying to keep her baby calm. Just be happy she hasn't bitten off your head yet."

One drip, two drip, three drip, four drip, five drip, six drip, seven drip, eight drip, nine drip, ten drip. Project Boo raised a claw to the ceiling as he began counting the paint's drips from when it was originally painted. His tray of food from the other day laid there forgotten. Project Boo had built a castle out of the bread and applesauce. He couldn't eat it with the gag on. He believes he would have starved if it wasn't for his fangs cutting a tiny piece of the leather off and since they couldn't remove the leather altogether he swallowed it. It did not do a thing to help his appetite. The food now smelled. He had been counting the drips on the ceiling for he doesn't know how long. He lost count after two hundred and something. The voice had been oddly quiet for the past few days.

Elven drip. Twelve drip. Thirteen drip. Fourteen drip. Fifteen drip. Sixteen drip. Seventeen drip. Eighteen drip. Nineteen drip. Twenty drip. He claws had gotten longer. Although one pinky claw had gotten damaged and had yet to regrow. He was bored when he tried to lift the vent lid. Can his claws grow once they've been broken? Does it just take longer? Project Boo licked the leather in his mouth feeling the leather much differently now that their tongue felt dry. Water. He needed water or apple juice, but they only brought drinks to those on the brink of death. Apparently he wasn't on the brink of death yet. Maybe in another few days. How long can he go without drinking something?

Twenty-one drip. Twenty-two drip. Twenty-three drip. Twenty-four drip. Twenty-five drip. Twenty-six drip. Twenty-seven drip. Twenty-eight drip. Twenty-nine drip. Thirty drip. What were the other projects doing right now? He remembered there being a playroom for all the Projects when he was younger. But that got removed after a few guards got their organs ripped out. They were grounded too their rooms indefinitely after that. That one kid though... They were just hungry. They didn't mean to eat anyone. They just were kept away from food too long.

Thirty-one drip. Thirty-two drip. Thirty-three drip. Thirty-four drip. Thirty-five drip. Thirty-six drip. Thirty-seven drip. Thirty-eight drip. Thirty-nine drip. Forty drip. He doesn't want to become like them. That involved too much blood. Project Boo didn't want anymore blood on their hands. Not after what happened with Ran's mother. No no no no no. He wasn't going to become like that. He'll work off the leather gag soon enough and then he'll eat his meals without complaint. He is stronger. Stronger than that kid. He won't be starved to that point.

Forty-one drip. Forty-two drip. Forty-three drip. Forty-four drip. Forty-five drip. Forty-six drip. Forty-seven drip. Forty-eight drip. Forty-nine drip. Fifty drip. He stabbed the leather thing in his mouth with his claws and yanked. He whined as it pulled on his fangs. The tug was harsher than normal. He tried again anyway. He will not loose. He will not loose. (Loose to what? His sanity?) He will be stronger. He will be stronger. He will not become a monster. He will not become a monster! He tugged it harder and there was a pop in one place. He started drooling as a whish of fresh air flew between a corner of their lips. There was a searing hot pain in the gums when the leather had been pulled from.

Fifty-one drip. Fifty-two drip. Fifty-three drip. Fifty-four drip. Fifty-five drip. Fifty-six drip. Fifty-seven drip. Fifty-eight drip. Fifty-nine drip. Sixty drip. He continued pulling ignoring the hot pain. His mouth was suddenly wet with something hot. He started making gurgling sounds while he prayed just for a little bit of fresh air. He tugged at the leather again. This time the leather pulled free from the corner diagonally from the first one. His gums felt like they were on fire. They slammed a fist on the ground before adjusting his claws to start again.

Sixty-one drip. Sixty-two drip. Sixty-three drip. Sixty-four drip. Sixty-five drip. Sixty-six drip. Sixty-seven drip. Sixty-eight drip. Sixty-nine drip. Eighty drip. Project Boo rose their jaw the best they could before pulling on the leather so hard. The thing feels from his mouth and into his lap. It lightly thumped onto the ground when Project Boo bent over and coughed. Purple liquid fell from his lips and so did a few yellow whitish pointy things. He stared at it for a moment while there was shouting in the back room with hurried footsteps to this room.

Eighty-one drip. Eighty-two drip. Eighty-three drip. Eighty-four drip. Eighty-five drip. Eighty-six drip. Eighty-seven drip. Eighty-eight drip. Eighty-nine drip. Ninety drip. Project Boo looked over at the food that probably would kill him, but looked like a feast in this moment. If he eats that he wins. He won't end up like that one kid who ate body parts. He would be stronger. He crawled over to the tray of food and snatched the bread. He took a bite before crying out around the bread with sharp crusted pieces. The pieces stabbed his gums where his fangs were supposed to be. He dropped the bread as he flicked his tongue in the missing spot.

Ninety-one drip. Ninety-two drip. Ninety-three drip. Ninety-four drip. Ninety-five drip. Ninety-six drip. Ninety-seven drip. Ninety-eight drip. Ninety-nine drip. One-Hundred drip. The door slammed open for the bad man to run inside. He kicked the food across the room and grabbed Project Boo by the wrist. "What the fuck did you do?!" The bad man raised the back of his hand down and it smacked him in the eye. The bad man kicked him behind the knees. "Stay fucking here you little brat." The bad man stormed out of the room. The door was left open. Project Boo sat there with his hands between his legs. He looked back up at the ceiling.

One-hundred-one drip. One-hundred-two drip. One-hundred-three drip. One-hundred-four drip. One-hundred-five drip. One-hundred-six drip. One-hundred-seven drip. One-hundred-eight drip. One-hundred-nine drip. One-hundred-ten drip. Project Boo looked back towards the door to see the bad man with a red box under his arm. And a syringe in another. "Hold still you little brat. I don't need you causing me anymore problems. Cause then I'll have to break your pretty little face." The bad man snarled.

One-hundred-eleven drip. One-hundred-twelve drip. One-hundred-thirteen drip. One-hundred-fourteen drip. One-hundred-fifteen drip. One-hundred-sixteen drip. One-hundred-seventeen drip. One-hundred-eighteen drip. One-hundred-nineteen drip. One-hundred-twenty drip. The man grabbed their wrist and placed a boot on his leg. He raised the needle and stabbed it into a vein. Project Boo held back a whimper and a giggle. Stupid shots. He started seeing little blobs of purple as the man pulled out a small knife from the red box. "Hold still." He growled as ninety percent of Project Boo's vision became a lavender purple. "If you had just kept the thing on you would be fine! Now I have to regrow your fangs before Mistress comes back you worthless little-"

One-hundred-twenty-one drip. One-hundred-twenty-two drip. One-hundred-twenty-three drip. One-hundred-twenty-four drip. One-hundred-twenty-five drip. One-hundred-twenty-six drip. One-hundred-twenty-seven drip. One-hundred-twenty-eight drip. One-hundred-twenty-nine drip. One-hundred-thirty-one drip. There was a gigantic light hitting his eyes so bright that made Project Boo wonder if he had died. Was it over? Was he finally going to be Ran again? He moved his head around and it to be needed to lower. The taste of salt flooded into his nostrils. He covered his nose. It didn't smell right. It smelled so different from the lemony bleach smell or the food that he had been in the same room with for weeks. He looked down at his feets. He has barefoot. His feet and lower legs were both a different color. One was black and one was an unnatural white. The rest of him looked human. The floor beneath his feet was brown. Not gray, not white, not red, not maroon, and not any other color. It was brown. Brown like some of people's brown hair. Where the fuck were they?

One-hundred-thirty-one drip. One-hundred-thirty-two drip. One-hundred-thirty-three drip. One-hundred-thirty-four drip. One-hundred-thirty-five drip. One-hundred-thirty-six drip. One-hundred-thirty-seven drips. One-hundred-thirty-eight drips. One-hundred-thirty-nine drips. One-hundred-forty drips. "Stay calm Boo." He murmured to himself. Is this what death feels like? Because it feels good. He wasn't in pain. He couldn't stop himself from trembling though. Maybe he is still in the process of dying? Project Boo looked around at the things he figured out was railings because he remembered what they looked like from the time he got handcuffed to one. Project Boo recognized the rope around the pillars. There was fabric being blown in the window to make a curve high up in the pillars. There was a wooden cylinder with no ceiling up on one them with a man with a telescope. There was a table with a plate of papers plates being held down by velcros (Project Boo things that's what it is) with cups of pink juice, milk, and water. There was chatter coming from an open door diagonally behind Project Boo. Where was he?

One-hundred-forty-one drip. One-hundred-forty-two drip. One-hundred-forty-three drip. One-hundred-forty-four drip. One-hundred-forty-five drip. One-hundred-forty-six drip. One-hundred-forty-seven-drip. One-hundred-forty-eight drip. One-hundred-forty-one drip. One-hundred-fifty drip. "Wha what what are you doing here?" Project Boo recognized the voice instantly. Project Boo spun around to see a boy with dirty blond hair dressed in a tank top, shorts, and a bunch of buckles.

"Voice in my head?" It sounded different. As if the voice was in front of them and not at all in their head. What is going on?!

One-hundred-fifty-one drip. One-hundred-fifty-two drip. One-hundred-fifty-three drip. One-hundred-fifty-four drip. One-hundred-fifty-five drip. One-hundred-fifty-six drip. One-hundred-fifty-seven drip. One-hundred-fifty-eight drip. One-hundred-fifty-nine drip. One-hundred-sixty drip. His hallucinations must be getting stronger. Or the bad man gave him something! Yeah that's it! The bad man gave him something so he is hallucinating as he dies. He is seeing his only friend which was technically himself! "I must be dying!" Project Boo exclaimed. "That's why there is a big bright light in the sky! That is why everything looks so different from the room!" Project Boo laughed. "Mom!" He called out. "Mom! I'm on my way!"

"Huh?! What no! You aren't dying! You're just astral projecting to where I am because we are Astral linked together. Didn't you here my explanation before?" The voice whose name Project Boo couldn't remember at the moment. "Hang on here, I'll get my Papa. She'll be able to explain everything to you in a much more dumb downed way."

"What the hell's a Papa? Nevermind, doesn't matter." Project Boo says, as his stomach rumbles. "Mom!" He called. "Where are -"

One-hundred-sixty-one drip. One-hundred-sixty-two drip. One-hundred-sixty-three drip. One-hundred-sixty-four drip. One-hundred-sixty-five drip. One-hundred-sixty-six. One-hundred-sixty-seven drip. One-hundred-sixty-eight drip. One-hundred-sixty-nine drip. One-hundred-seventy drip. Something went through Project Boo's torso and skinned the dirty blond haired boy's shoulder. Project Boo didn't notice it until the boy in front of him placed a hand over his shoulder where blood was. Damn. He must be dying for his hallucinations to have such vivid details like blood. The bad man was probably making everything worse. Project Boo was probably going to be going to hell if there was a hell. At least he would be with his mom. The bad man always said that they would be going to hell. "Sam!" The boy hissed. "What the fuck?!"

One-hundred-seventy-one drip. One-hundred-seventy-two drip. One-hundred-seventy-three drip. One-hundred-seventy-four drip. One-hundred-seventy-five drip. One-hundred-seventy-six drip. One-hundred-seventy-seven drip. One-hundred-seventy-eight drip. One-hundred-seventy-nine drip. One-hundred-eighty drip. A man with this zombie green hair came running from the front part of the ship. There was a hole that Project Boo doesn't recall being there before. "Shit. Sorry." The man pulled the kid behind him. "Where the hell did this spawn from? It doesn't look like any of the sea creatures."

"Sam it's -"

"Dream go get Puffy."

"But -"

"Go get Puffy now!" The green haired man barked. The man was closer and remained still as the kid took off. He had blotches of green skin, and weird looking eyes that Project Boo could just gaze into all day if he was allowed. He also had a few scars and wore a chest plate that showed off his muscles. Which honestly Project Boo did not mind. Why had his mind conjured up this perfection of a man in front of him? Maybe he was desperate to see one good thing before he died.

One-hundred-eighty-one drip. One-hundred-eighty-two drip. One-hundred-eighty-three drip. One-hundred-eighty-four drip. One-hundred-eighty-five drip. One-hundred-eighty-six drip. One-hundred-eighty-seven drip. One-hundred-eighty-eight drip. One-hundred-eighty-nine drip. One-hundred-ninety drip. "How did you get onto the ship?" The man asked.

Project Boo looked at the man. He looked to good to be real with the muscles that looked like they could probably make yourself fall asleep in his arms. So that had to be a hallucination. No one looked like this in real life before. But... IF this WAS a hallucination then why was it asking how he got onto the ship. He stood in front the man staring with his jaw agape. How does he answer this? Does he answer this? Yes. The question is part of the hallucination. "The bad man gave me a shot and I ended up here." Project Boo responds truthfully.

"A shot? A shot at what? A mission to take us out? Who the hell sent you?!"

"Mission? Eh?" Project Boo a step back as a crossbow seemingly appeared in the mans hands. Did it just appear there or was he too busy observing every other part of the man in front of him? "I don't understand -"

"You ain't going anywhere you little shit." The man pulled the trigger on the crossbow and it went through Project Boo. "What." It sounded more of a statement then a question.

"I must really be dying." Project Boo says way too bubbly for such a situation. Project Boo only saw it as a chance to be Ran again and to see his mother. To be free from the shots, the cuts, and the training. "I'm dying! Haha!" Project Boo laughed. "I'm dying. I'm actually dying!"

The man stood there looking confused as he reloaded his crossbow. "Sam wait!" A woman yelled with a sword in hand. Immediately upon seeing her he dropped the crossbow and backed up with hands raised.

One-hundred-ninety-one drip. One-hundred-ninety-two drip. One-hundred-ninety-three drip. One-hundred-ninety-four drip. One-hundred-ninety-five drip. One-hundred-ninety-six drip. One-hundred-ninety-seven drip. One-hundred-ninety-eight drip. One-hundred-ninety-nine drip. Two-Hundred drip. "Puffy, I was just trying to take care of the thing that climbed onto our ship, I swear I didn't mean to hurt your kid." The man takes another step back, one knee touching the ground.

"We'll discuss you missing the aim later, but right now we need to handle the little one." A woman with snowy hair that was all poofy with the stuffy that looks like the special fabric they got every winter to stay warm. Her ears were animal-like and reminded Project Boo of the animals in the books that were shown to him when he was younger. He never got the point of the books. Like why does anyone need to know that the Cow goes Moo? "Who the hell do you think you are? Attacking a child?! The Pink Siren?!"

"What is the pink siren?" The voice that had lived in Project Boo's head for what seemed like years asked a boy with gold etched into his skin.

"The Pink Siren is a fucking legend. He is basically one of the biggest sirens in the entire oceans. He is said to kill and feed off children. Specifically orphans." The man with gold mixed with his skin was taller than the boy answered. Why did he had gold in his skin? Was his father Apollo? Ran heard of such a story from his mother when he was younger.

"He just appeared on the ship out of nowhere! And the arrow didn't even work! It went right through him!"

"Because he projecting idiot!" Puffy clenched her sword and everyone else around her took several steps back. She turned toward Project Boo who hadn't moved. "Hey kid, what's your name?"

"Project Boo."

"That's..." Her eyes softened a little bit. "Kid that's not a name." She sighed. "Before Project Boo what were you called?"

"Ran, but Boo is..." He studied her for a moment. She looked like a goddess. Maybe if Ran's mother worshipped her she would still be alive. She looked strong and her eyes were warm. Her eyes held the warmth he just barely remembers seeing in his mother. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a bit of a mess, but none of that was none made her look like less of a goddess. "Are you a goddess?'

The woman blushed a bright pink. "Uh what?" She smiled a little bit before it dropped. "Kid, Dream told me about the Astral - wait don't go!" Project Boo looked down at his fading hands.

He was going! He was finally moving on! He was finally going to see his mother! Ran is coming home! Ran is coming home! Ran is going to hug his mother and tell him about what he just saw. They can color, eat cookies, and maybe water won't hurt him anymore so they can do this thing he heard of: swimming (is that what is it called?). He can't wait.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Ran's eyelids felt heavy as if they were taped closed. He pressed his lips into a firm line with fangs on top of his lower lips. It took everything of him to get his eyes to raise. "Ugh..." he groaned when he noticed the walls were all snowy white. A blanket was draped over his shoulders, and his wrists were being gripped with the strength of a god. "No. No. No. No. No." He whispered, his throat feeling dry. Their eyes made eye contact with a man in a white lab coat and blue gloves leaning against the wall in front of him.

"Good morning Boo- well technically Good night."