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It's been five hundred years.
Five hundred years of spite and hatred, slowly turning into something more. He grew out of being that small child. He had long since killed the ones who hurt him.
His sweet, helpful, clueless, dumb brother was inanimate now. He would stay that way.
And if that little brother did return, he would be grown, surely.So now, staring at the armed child--and finding no difference between him and what he remembered him to be--Nightmare hesitated.
Why was he so small? -
Bookmark Notes:
PLEASEEE UPDATE THIS IS SO INTRIGUING ALREADY AHHHHH