Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Who's a cute kitty?" Killer asked, grinning. "You are, aren't you? Oh, you devious little thing - I know what you're up to!"

Pep happily batted at Killer's hands, meowing cutely in response. The cat wanted something, and Killer knew just what!

"All right, you little charmer!" Killer chuckled, pulling out a treat. "You've won me over - take your prize!"

Pep was quick to pounce on the treat, beginning to gobble it up excitedly. Of course, this attracted the attention of the other two feline residents in the house, who approached Killer with legendary levels of self-entitlement - they wanted treats, too!

"Oh, do you two want some, too?" Killer shook his skull playfully. "All right, all right, here you go! I spoil you too much, you know!"

Marshmallow and Cheese instantly accepted their treats, and Killer smirked, petting Pep, who had finished his treat. However, in the middle of being pet, Pep froze up. That..was quite unlike the feline; usually, when he was frightened by something, he ran around like a chicken without its head..

"Hey, Pep, you all right?" Killer looked down at his cat, but as he did, he noticed that his two other cats had frozen up, too. "Guys? Hey, is something wrong?"

Killer frowned. Cats were able to sense things like earthquakes before they happened, right? Was an earthquake about to happen, then? That..would have been bad. Killer didn't need to be crushed by a boulder today.

"All right, guys, we're gonna head to the basement, okay?" Killer spoke softly as he scooped up his cats, heading for the door; he didn't want to take any chances.

Killer adjusted his cats in his hold, shifting them to one arm as he reached for the doorknob with his other hand, opening it. He nearly walked into the person standing on the other side of the door, though.

Wait, what?

Killer took a step back, looking at the..person? A skeleton, taller than Killer, covered in black goop and having goopy tentacles coming from his back. He had a striking teal eyelight, and the moment he and Killer made eye contact, Killer..felt afraid. Stage Two replaced him as recognition set in; he knew this person.

This was Nightmare, King of Negativity - one of the people whom Color had recommended for Killer to avoid at all costs. After Error the Destroyer, Nightmare was possibly the greatest threat the multiverse had to offer; he clearly wasn't here for any virtuous purpose.

"Ah, Killer, was it?" Even his voice sounded evil.

"Go away." Killer pulled out a knife with his free hand, keeping his cats as far away from the other as he could. "You aren't welcome here."

"Oh? And who told you about little old me?"

"Leave!"

"That's no way to speak to your new master, now, is it?"

Killer didn't have the chance to process those words before one of Nightmare's tendrils hit him hard, flinging him across the room and into a wall. Marshmallow, Pep, and Cheese mewed fearfully, the tyrant's aura affecting them far more than it could affect Killer's higher stages. And, speaking of stages..Stage Three wouldn't tolerate his cats being hurt.

Killer lept to his feet, now wielding a second knife as he lunged at Nightmare; if he wanted a fight, he would get one! Killer stabbed at Nightmare's goopy exterior over and over, and..his opponent didn't flinch? Was he immune to blades? Then maybe he'd react better to magic! Killer summoned as many magic attacks as he could (still knives, but hey, that was his thing) and sent them at his goopy guest, grinning when the other's expression soured. He must have thought he was being clever, standing still in a show that Killer's knives couldn't hurt him, but now Killer had the upper-

A tendril wrapped around his ankle, lifting him off the floor and hanging him upside-down.

"Hey!" Killer tried teleporting out of the tentacle's hold, but it didn't work, leaving him to just kick and flail. At least he could still summon attacks - and he did, sending all of them at his opponent, of course. It..didn't do as much as he would have liked.

Nightmare clicked his tongue (did he have a tongue? Was it made of goop, too?), letting out a small sigh. "Killer, your attacks are rather lackluster; can't you see that this is getting you nowhere? Or, perhaps..you need to be shown?"

Killer growled, struggling more at the threat. How did this guy know his name, anyway? He'd- where was he going? Nightmare was approaching..his cats.

"Stay away from them!" Killer shouted, summoning a blaster; he didn't care if he destroyed half his house, if it got this lunatic out of here!

The blaster fired, but the tentacle didn't drop Killer; in fact, nothing changed at all. Nightmare didn't even seem phased! And that was Killer's strongest attack!

"Pep!" Killer kicked, hit, even tried to bite at the tendril holding him as Nightmare picked up his smallest cat; the other two felines cowered, while Pep mewed pitifully in Nightmare's hands; he was so small..

"It amazes me, how mortals can care for such meaningless creatures.." Nightmare spoke. "It just makes all of this so much easier, really."

One of Nightmare's tentacles lifted, pointed directly at Pep.

"No!" Killer screamed. "Don't touch him! I-I'll hear you out! What do you want?! Just don't hurt them!"

His screams didn't deter Nightmare one bit, nor did his compliance. He..he didn't understand. He'd agreed to hear the monster out; why had he..

When Nightmare moved to pick up the next cat - Cheese didn't deserve this.. - Killer reached Stage Four. Yet, despite every attack he threw at Nightmare, he best he could get was a flinch. Color had told him that Nightmare got his power and strength from negativity - that being positive around him would make him more vulnerable to attacks - but Killer couldn't be happy. Even if Stage One took over right now and thought about the happiest times of his life, he couldn't have made a difference. Not when this madman was killing his cats. All Killer could feel was grief, depression, and a dark feeling of hopelessness; nothing was hurting him! And Killer's emotions were probably just making things worse!

"M-Mallow, run!" Killer begged, to no avail.

Marshmallow was too afraid to run, frozen stiff from Nightmare's aura. Stage Four had never cried before, but he was having a hard time resisting it now.

For all his determination, he couldn't have felt more hopeless.

When the tentacle holding Killer up finally let him drop to the floor, the only thing Killer could do was stab Nightmare. He wanted to kill him; he would have given up everything to just get rid of him! Killer summoned every attack he could think of, and he sent them all at the goopy psychopath, but Nightmare still stood. Killer didn't care; he just kept stabbing. What else was there to do?

"You're a tricky one, aren't you?" Nightmare must have been mocking him; it just made him stab harder. "Well, I'm not opposed to taking damaged product."

Another tentacle grabbed him, but this time, it didn't restrain him; this time, it threw him into the nearest wall. Killer didn't let that deter him from going back for another round. Nightmare repeated the process, but Killer just got right back up, continuing his attack. Again, and again, and again, it happened, until Nightmare became frustrated. He gripped Killer tighter this time, and instead of throwing Killer, his tentacle repeatedly slammed him into the wall; this was far more effective. After a couple dozen rounds, Nightmare dropped Killer, and, although the shorter skeleton struggled, all four of his limbs being broken did hinder him from getting up to try stabbing Nightmare again. The king came over to Killer, kneeling down beside him.

"Are you done?" He asked, mockingly.

Killer growled, summoning a few dozen more attacks to send at Nightmare; at least he didn't need his limbs for that.

Nightmare sighed, avoiding the attacks. "Your determination is quite impressive; I'll enjoy having it on my side."

Killer hissed; he was too weak to do much else.

"Oh, don't be like that." Nightmare scolded. "I came here for a warrior to serve me, and I've found him; you have no choice. Perhaps we can continue conditioning you in my castle, however."

As Nightmare picked Killer up with a tentacle, his future soldier growled again, struggling as well as he could with a broken body, but he couldn't escape. Nightmare took him through a portal, leaving behind a room holding three small corpses and countless bloodstains. It would take some time, but Killer would learn his place.

He would serve Nightmare well.

Killer spent the next three months in Nightmare's castle. He wasn't permitted to leave, but he could explore the place, as long as he hadn't been handicapped by his captor. Although, that happened a lot. Killer wasn't exactly happy with the fact that he'd been ripped from his home and forced to work for a maniacal tyrant, actually! Nightmare had been trying to "train" him into obedience by giving Killer simple tasks to complete each day, but he would have been truly insane if he thought that would work. Unfortunately, he accompanied it with..torture. If Killer refused to obey orders, Nightmare would take him to the dungeon (of course he had a dungeon) and..hurt him. Not generally, however - he targeted one stage in specific: Stage One. Nightmare had done his research on Killer before coming for him, it seemed, because he'd already known about all of Killer's stages. And he knew how to hurt Killer best, too.

Stage One was by far the most vulnerable part of Killer; while the other stages fully intended to keep resisting Nightmare's control, Stage One had crumbled within the first month. He was the one who begged the others to just comply, because he was afraid of being hurt. Not that the others could blame him, really; Nightmare was horrible. However, after the past couple rounds of resistance, Nightmare had changed up his tactics; he'd been punishing Stage Two instead. It..wasn't a great sign. Stage Two would undoubtedly take longer to break than Stage One had, but it wasn't impossible. And, in light of that, Killer had started complying. He didn't want to obey Nightmare, but it wasn't as if the king was limited by time, and no one was going to come for Killer..hopefully, at least; he didn't want Color to get hurt because of him. If he had no choice, he would have preferred to do things on his own terms rather than be broken beyond repair.

"This place looks clean enough." Nightmare judged Killer's work for the day, and he came in while Killer was on his knees scrubbing the floor of the throne room, because of course Nightmare had to subtly reinforce his place in Killer's mind. "It's acceptable. However, your work for the day isn't done, Killer."

Killer narrowed his sockets, looking up at Nightmare with suspicion; that didn't sound good. "What?"

"Don't use that tone, Killer; it's far too disrespectful. Try again."

Killer sighed; he hated this guy, but he also didn't feel like going through another torture session. "What did you have in mind, boss?"

"Better." Nightmare approved. "Killer, you've been starting to adjust, and I think it's time for your first real mission. Today, we will go to an AU, and there, you will raze a variant of Snowdin. Destroy the buildings, but leave most of the people alive; about eight out of every ten people left alive should be the perfect balance between negativity and death, I've found."

Killer..didn't know what to think. He was..yes, he was a killer! He'd murdered people for fun, and if it were on his own terms in the right situation, he probably would have done it again! But killing for Nightmare? He couldn't see himself doing that. Arson was fun! Destroying things was fun! Getting a good rush of LV was like nothing else! But..doing it because Nightmare had told him to? Killer didn't think he could. Killer..didn't want to. Killer didn't want to kill "two out of every ten people" to satisfy the maniac who had murdered his cats!

"I can sense that you don't particularly like that idea." Nightmare laughed a bit. "What, are you too pure to kill, now?"

Killer couldn't hold back a half chuckle. "One thing to kill on my own - another to do it 'cause you told me to."

"Well, if you don't see the value in obeying me, I can certainly give you an incentive." Nightmare assured, giving Killer a dark smirk as his tentacles sharpened into points.

Killer flinched at the threat; he couldn't help that, with Stage One's fear responses transferring between them. It was annoying, though; perhaps it was a bit less condemning because of Nightmare's status as an empath, however, since he knew Killer wasn't really afraid - Stage Two, at least.

"Shall we go to the universe, or shall we stay here, Killer? It's your choice."

Killer glared at the floor; this situation wasn't good. Either he gave in and did the king's dirty work, or he refused and spent the next few hours in the dungeon. Stage One was begging him to just do it, despite how he hated violence. However, the decision was ultimately up to Stage Two, and he needed a moment to think. Killer couldn't open those fancy portals, which was the only thing keeping him stuck in this castle, really, but if he went into a different universe, he might have been able to find someone who knew how to travel..he could try to escape. And so, with his plan in mind, he rose to his feet.

"I'll..do it." He decided, head bowed slightly.

Nightmare chuckled. "You know I can sense your emotions, do you not? You can't hide such things from me, Killer; know that. I'll be supervising you during every second you spend here, so don't do anything stupid."

..That might have been a problem. It was fine, though; if Killer didn't get a chance to escape this time, maybe he would next time. There was no point in resisting him for nothing in return right now. At least, if he went along with it just this once (a few times at most), he would get closer to Nightmare leaving him unsupervised, and when that happened, he could make his move.

Although he didn't want to, Killer did as he'd been told. He burned buildings made of wood, blasted those of brick, and destroyed everything else in sight, too. For every ten monsters he saw, he killed two. He didn't get any joy from it - not with Nightmare breathing over his shoulder the whole time. Even the EXP gain didn't make a difference. Killer fought the judge of the universe - the Sans, of course - as well as the captain of the Royal Guard - the Papyrus, for an uncommon twist - but he didn't find any thrill in it; the killing blows were anticlimactic, if anything. They were just the two out of ten. Once Nightmare deemed Killer's job complete, he opened a portal back to the castle, following Killer through (he wouldn't give Killer the chance to run). Killer expected to be sent straight back to work, or if he was lucky, to his room to recover from his wounds. He didn't expect what Nightmare decided to do next.

"Your execution was decent enough, but you should have left the Sans alive and killed the Grillby in his place." Nightmare..nitpicked.

Killer blinked a couple times, looking at the dark king with confusion. "What?"

"For maximum negativity potential." Nightmare expounded. "Sanses are typically fond of Papyruses and Grillbys; if you had killed both of those and left the Sans alive, it would have created more negativity."

Killer gritted his teeth. "You told me to kill two out of ten people - nothing more, nothing less!"

"And that's the only reason I'm not punishing you for this. From now on, I want you to consider things like that - hurt people more effectively. But, for now, you may go."

Killer clenched his fists, but he didn't say anything else; there was nothing to be gained by provoking Nightmare right now. He just went to his room (some random bedroom he'd been tossed into right after arriving), sat on his bed, and wondered how he'd gotten here. Killer had never been big on plans for the future or life-altering dreams, but..he knew that none of his would have involved working for a psychopath. He just hoped Color wasn't killing himself out there looking for him.

Killer's first real chance to escape presented itself on his third outing. After being a bit more thoughtful about who he killed and whom those deaths would impact, Nightmare had deemed him ready to fly solo - to an extent. He wasn't constantly hovering over Killer anymore, at least, and that alone was good enough for Killer to try his hand at getting out from under Nightmare's thumb. So, while Nightmare caused chaos in one part of town (Nightmare had only sent him to variants of Snowdin so far, likely to give him familiar surroundings during his "training"), Killer kept himself on the other side of town, where he'd successfully managed to isolate the Sans of this world, who also happened to be the judge - a common occurrence.

"Hey!" Killer addressed, dodging an attack as he stopped sending his own. "Can you make portals?"

"What?" The Sans was understandably offput by Killer's sudden stop.

"Portals! Across universes! Can you make them?"

"Why? So you can torment someone else?"

"Hell no! I'm trying to get away from that freak! You think I really want to do stuff like this?!"

"Then why are you doing it?"

"After three months of getting tortured in a dungeon, a man tends to do things! Can you make portals?"

The Sans's expression fell a bit at Killer's words, clearly not having expected such a reason. "I..I can. Never used it, but..if-"

Killer took a step away from the Sans, flinching back from him as a tentacle pierced his soul from behind, slowly sapping his life away.

"Did you really think I wouldn't be watching you, Killer?" Nightmare chuckled heartily, clearly finding Killer's assumption funny. "How pathetic..but you'll learn. You'll never escape me, Killer; you should just accept it."

"I-"

Killer wasn't allowed a response. As this universe's Sans slowly turned to dust, one of Nightmare's other tentacles came up to wrap around Killer's neck, lifting him off the ground and squeezing his bone tightly. As a skeleton, Killer had no need to breathe, but that didn't make being choked any less painful; the sensation was apparently quite similar to what humans felt, and Killer was learning to hate it. It only hurt when the bone was under enough pressure to nearly begin cracking, but Nightmare knew just how much force to use without paralyzing Killer. Not that it would have made a difference if he had; Nightmare's healing magic could have fixed something like that with ease. He should have gone into medicine; it would have been a lot better than this.

Nightnare took Killer back to the castle, straight to the dungeon this time.

Killer tried again, despite the punishments he received. He was determined, after all; it would take a lot to change his mind about something. Although..when Color found him for the first time, Killer would admit that he was a bit frightened of the potential consequences. It was during an attack, one that was similar to all the others.

"Killer!" Color's voice almost didn't register in Killer's mind before he nearly cut his friend down (not that Color would have let him).

"C-Color?" Killer dropped his knife, staring at his friend in shock. "Y-you have to go! He'll hurt you!"

"And what is going on over here?" Nightmare showed up far earlier than he had any right to, startling both Killer and Color.

"You took my friend!" Color glared. "I'm taking him back!"

"Color!" Killer didn't know what to say; he didn't want Color to be hurt!

"Oh, you are, are you?" Nightmare laughed, although one of his tentacles did snap out to grab Killer by the neck; he didn't seem eager to test that threat.

"Let him go!" Color, on the other hand, was fully intending to carry it out.

Color was the first to attack, expertly firing his attacks with positive intent: every bone that hit Killer dealt no damage, instead feeling like a hug, while those that hit Nightmare seemed to do more damage than any of Killer's had ever done to the tyrant! It made sense, though; Nightmare was weak to positivity, and Killer had always had a hard time even feeling positive emotions, much less embedding them into his attacks via intent. Color, though? He was a master at it. For the first time in months, Killer was beginning to feel hope.

Then Nightmare got a hit in, and Killer was reminded of who had the upper hand by default. Color went flying, and Nightmare chose to leave before he could even hit the ground, dragging Killer back to the castle. There, Nightmare dropped him to the floor, and Killer landed roughly on his knees, his brief surge of hope having been extinguished. Was Color all right?

"I certainly hope that pest doesn't show up frequently." Nightmare shook his skull. "It would be a pain to have to lock him up in the dungeon. I hardly remember to provide upkeep for you; I'd surely forget about him."

..Killer didn't even argue. It was true, after all; Nightmare barely fed Killer. Color would die if he ever got dragged here. But Killer understood the threat; if Color showed up again, he would have to warn him to avoid Nightmare.

By the time Killer had been in the castle for six months, he'd tried to escape half a dozen times, but his last attempt had left a bad taste in his mouth. He'd not only gotten through a portal out of the universe he'd been forced to attack, but he'd also camped out for two whole days in that new universe, hoping Color would be able to find him. But..he hadn't. Nightmare had found him and dragged him back to the castle, mocking his efforts and finally admitting that Killer had no chance; Nightmare had kept him around long enough to sense his magic from universes away, and he'd known the whole time where Killer had been. The crushing depression Killer had felt after that reveal hadn't stopped Nightmare from taking him back down to the dungeon, either.

Was there really any point in trying, anymore?

Killer..didn't think there was. Not without a good plan - not without help.

But, a week after that event, help was just what he got.

Killer was in the castle, as per usual, while Nightmare was out. Killer didn't know what Nightmare did while he was out alone, but he really didn't care, either. He'd just decided to sit in his room, doing nothing; there wasn't a lot to do here, anyway. Nightmare seemed to hate it when Killer did anything but train his skills; he'd even broken Killer's flute, the first time Killer had brought it out to play something, claiming that it was making Killer too happy. In Nightmare's perfect world, everyone would be miserable all the time.

When Nightmare returned from his outing, his negative aura once again flooded the castle, and Killer let out a sigh. He expected Nightmare to either go to his fancy office or throne room or to come to him, hoping it was one of the former options; he didn't want to go out right now.

Killer didn't expect to hear a scream coming from the dungeon.

He sat up at the shrill sound, wondering about its origins; in all the time he'd been here, Killer had been the only one to be sent down there..but apparently not anymore? He hated to admit it, but it piqued his curiosity; he wanted to know what was going on. So, with just the slightest bit of hesitation, Killer started towards the dungeon. As he went through the halls and down the stairs, the screams got louder; it only made sense. When he finally reached the dungeon, he peeked down the hall from around a corner, getting a decent view of what was going on. Nightmare was here, of course, but someone else was, too - the screaming one. Nightmare's victim was a skeleton, a Sans like Killer, but different, at the same time. This skeleton was a lot shorter than Killer was, and he wore a hood; though, that was all Killer could tell from this distance. Nightmare was certainly going hard on the guy; Killer wondered who it was. A political enemy? Someone who had annoyed him too much? Just a random person to take out his anger on?

"Ah, Killer." Nightmare paused in his work, turning to look at Killer. "Meet your new teammate, Dust."

New..teammate?

"Show him around and teach him what he needs to know." Nightmare ordered. "I have more pressing matters to deal with, and I doubt he can take much more of this..unfortunately."

With that said, Nightmare disappeared, leaving Killer and Dust behind. Killer frowned, approaching the cell that held his new coworker. The door was open, since there was no need for Nightmare to lock Dust up; in fact, he probably would have found an attempt to run amusing. When he reached the other, Killer winced; this torture session had definitely begun in this guy's universe before being brought here, much like Killer's own introduction to the castle had gone. Dust had been beaten and battered about as much as Killer had, his first day, which meant that Killer knew exactly how this guy was feeling right now. He knelt down beside Dust, wondering how exactly he was going to "show him around" if the guy couldn't walk. And, not unexpectedly, Dust lashed out, summoning a couple bone attacks and sending them at Killer.

"Woah!" Killer dodged them, of course; Dust's aim wasn't great, considering his current situation. "Hey, I'm not a threat! I'm not gonna hurt you!"

The other tried to talk, but all that came out was a coughing fit that left a puddle of blood beneath him.

"Hey, uh..it's all right." Killer..really needed to think of better things to say! "I-I mean it's not, obviously, but..he won't hurt you anymore, for now. And I won't, either. I'm Killer, by the way! And you're Dust?"

The battered skeleton tilted his skull in a tiny nod; it didn't seem as if he could do much else.

"Well, it's nice to meet you!" Killer decided to try to keep his spirits up, hoping it'd at least get the other's mind off of his pain. "It's, uh, actually been kinda lonely here, just by myself..and him..but, uh, you shouldn't worry; it's not always this bad. Um..you like movies? We can't watch any, here, but maybe you've watched some I haven't? Or vice versa!"

Killer just talked for the next few hours. It was a very one-sided conversation, with Dust being quite unable to participate, but Killer chose to think that he was helping, at least a little bit. After about six hours, Nightmare came by, and he did heal Dust's wounds to "get him adjusted faster," but he left immediately after. It was good, though; Dust could actually speak, now!

"So..how do you feel?" Killer questioned, looking at the shorter skeleton.

"..Bad." Dust admitted. "Who is that guy?"

"Oh, him? Only one of the worst guys in the world. Nightmare, King of Negativity."

"You..work for him?"

"Under duress."

Killer had explained all of this during the "conversation" earlier, but he couldn't blame Dust for not picking up on anything; he'd been in a bad state.

"You're not here willingly either." Dust hummed.

"Nope." Killer scoffed. "Dragged from my home kicking and screaming - how about you?"

"..Same. So..is there a way out of here?"

"..Yeah." Killer crossed his arms. "But you gotta be lucky, unlike me."

"How so?"

"You're on a time limit, bud. You stay here long enough, and he starts to recognize your magic. He found me days after I thought I'd lost him. If you want to get out of here, you've gotta go fast."

"..How?"

"Well, first, you have to convince him you can go on missions outside the castle, then you wait until you're alone with anyone who can make you a portal out of there, and then you run through it. But you'll have to sacrifice some dignity."

"I don't..have much of that left."

Killer let out a soft chuckle. "Me, neither. If boss treats you like he did me, he'll have you doing chores around the castle until you start obeying him more than not, and then he'll let you out, but he'll probably watch you for the first few times. It took me too long to figure all this stuff out, though; I..can't get out. I've been here for six months."

"That's not long."

"Yeah, it isn't, so if you don't want to be stuck with me for the rest of your life, you'd better start acting like you're the best servant boy this side of the multiverse."

Dust frowned. "..Why are you telling me all this? Aren't you afraid he's listening?"

"..He could be." Killer shrugged. "I just don't care. You've got a chance to get out of here, bud; that's more than I've got."

Dust wasn't sure what to think. He'd been waiting for the human to reach his hiding spot so he could ambush it, but only ten minutes into his wait, he'd heard someone approaching, which shouldn't have been possible! It had turned out to be a goopy skeleton who resembled him just a bit too much, offering him some kind of job. Naturally, Dust had turned down the offer immediately - he had responsibilities - and attempted to attack the stranger, since the LV he sensed in the goopy skeleton could have been put to good use. But, in a matter of seconds, he'd been overpowered. He didn't know how long the stranger had tortured him, exactly, but it had been long enough that the human had stumbled upon the scene at some point, being brutally exterminated by the stranger on sight. After that, as a reset began to take effect, Dust had been brought to this castle to continue the torment.

Killer, his "teammate," was..interesting. He'd apparently been forced to work for Nightmare (the goopy skeleton's name, fittingly), too, and he'd even given Dust a step-by-step tutorial on how to escape, to the best of his knowledge..while being unable to escape himself. Dust wasn't exactly the type to make friends or get to know people well (not anymore, at least), but..Killer was just kind of pitiful? He claimed to have determination, but the most determined thing Dust had ever seen the guy do was..giving Dust instructions on how to escape? He made Dust feel uncomfortable in a way quite unlike Nightmare did. He constantly looked like he was on the edge of Falling Down, but he just kept walking along the ridge. And he rarely ever did anything that hadn't been ordered of him, even just to explore the castle! He just..it made Dust wonder just what in the world Nightmare had done to him to reduce him to that in only half a year..

Dust ultimately did decide to take Killer's advice. He did as he was told, not wanting to exceed the time limit he'd been placed under; he didn't even know how long he really had, with Killer only having discovered it six months in. For all he knew, he'd already surpassed it..but he hoped not. He tried to stay away from Nightmare as much as he could, though, just to potentially give himself more time. After a month, Nightmare deemed Dust worthy of going out to join him and Killer on missions, but he did watch Dust like a hawk. He'd just have to wait until Nightmare let up before trying to escape. He could play that game; he'd played it a thousand times before.

But..part of him did feel bad. He couldn't just not feel bad, when Killer was..being Killer? Most of the time, Killer just avoided Dust, claiming that he didn't want to get attached to him if he was going to be leaving soon, but Dust couldn't help but feel that there was more to it. He'd heard plenty of sounds in the castle during his stay here, including some that strongly resembled attacks. Killer attacked Nightmare a lot, and he suffered for it every time. He didn't know why Killer bothered; he was clearly outmatched. But..maybe that was where his determination was working? It was rather pointless, in Dust's opinion, but determination was weird, sometimes; he couldn't blame the guy.

What he could do? Well, he could sit with him after Killer got the living daylights kicked out of him, just as Killer had done with him before.

"He got you good this time." Dust commented. "Bet he was mad about that right hook."

Killer let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, that should have done more. He's..hard to fight."

"He's stronger, the more negative you are." Dust shrugged. "Hard not to be negative in a fight."

"Yeah, but..I'm getting better at it. I think he flinched once."

Dust hadn't caught the whole fight - just the last minute of it - but he would take Killer's word for it. He sighed. "Why do you keep attacking him? We can't get out of this place regardless of whether you can knock him out or not."

"..I know. It's difficult to explain, but..I guess you should know."

"Know what?"

"..I'm not just one person. Kind of, anyway. I've got four..personalities, I guess? I call them stages. To put it plainly, the first is a pacifist, the second is neutral, the third is aggressive, and the fourth is downright murderous. Depending on which one is in control, I..might attack someone. If Stage Four is in control, I might attack you. I probably would. Three probably would, too. But I'm Stage Two, and I don't mind you; Stage One wouldn't hurt a fly."

"..Huh." Dust nodded, taking in the information. "I see."

So Killer had separate personalities..interesting. That made sense, then; Dust could understand more aggressive versions of Killer lashing out at Nightmare for what he'd done to him, after all. Although, it was good to know that Killer also might have attacked him, too; he would have to be on-guard around the other from now on. But, for now, Killer seemed safe enough; he couldn't exactly move easily, anyway. It made Dust wish he had the capacity to use any substantial healing magic, though; the most he could do was convince a small cut to scab over. he'd never been adept at using any type of magic that didn't help in a fight, really. But..maybe it was time to learn some practical medicine, if nothing else.

The castle had a library. It was big, ornate, and meticulously-kept, and Nightmare clearly cared about it. Killer had been banned from entering because he'd opted to make a mess of the place, but since Dust had done no such thing, he was permitted entry. It was definitely fit for a king, despite Dust's thoughts about the tyrant, and it had too much knowledge to simply ignore. So, one afternoon after a mission during which Nightmare had once again supervised Dust the whole time, Dust made his way to the library, intending to learn something new. Although, he quickly realized that the castle was lacking some necessary supplies to continue: just about everything mentioned in the books he'd found, actually! Throughout the entire castle, there were no bandages, no hydrogen peroxide, no gauze wraps, no anything! Nightmare clearly hadn't considered practical medicine to be a possibility at all! Why not?

Dust didn't know, but he certainly wasn't going to ask.

So, during his next mission, Dust decided to change things up a bit. After determining that Nightmare was still focused on him and therefore putting off escape until later, Dust entered a store. He decided to leave the shopkeeper alive, but he said some generic "ooh, I'm evil" phrases to keep up his "work"; Nightmare wouldn't have tolerated a break, no matter how quick it might have been. Dust scanned the shelves, and luckily, he found what he was looking for: a fully-stocked first aid kit! It wasn't a lot, but it would be a start. Before he could grab it, though, a dark tendril snapped forward from behind him, wrapping around his wrist and forcefully turning him around.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Nightmare seemed to have a problem with this..for some reason?

"There is nothing in the castle to use to treat wounds." Dust kept a level tone, not wanting to provoke the king; he didn't exactly aspire to spend his afternoon in the dungeon. "We get beat up a lot; it would be nice to have a first aid kit."

"Oh, it would be nice, would it?" Nightmare let out a light chuckle, but Dust could hear every bit of mockery in it. "I bet it would be! Having a nice little first aid kit to pass between you and Killer, patching eachother up after missions - how thoughtful! But, Dust..you seem to have missed something - a very important thing, really."

"..What would that be, boss?" Dust's teeth clenched as the force around his wrist increased.

"Well, let's think about it! There are no medical supplies in my castle. Why do you think that is, Dust? Tell me your thoughts, won't you?"

"Um..I-I don't..know?"

The tentacle around his wrist instantly lifted Dust up into the air, before throwing him down at the floor, leaving cracks in both the floor and a few of his bones. Nightmare stepped forward, glaring daggers at his trembling subordinate as his aura tainted the atmosphere.

"Because I own you!" Nightmare shouted, his voice booming through the small storefront in a way it had no right to. "You belong to me, Dust, and for as long as you do, I will decide what you can and cannot do! If I want you healed, you will be healed; if I want you lying half-dead in a ditch, you will be! If I want you on your knees begging for my forgiveness and mercy, well..go ahead. Beg, and maybe I'll consider sparing your miserable life."

Dust felt pangs of fear rushing through him, but despite knowing that most of it was because of Nightmare's aura, he still faltered. The king wanted him to beg for mercy, to plead for forgiveness for..for what? For wanting basic essentials? He was malnourished and sleep-deprived because of the night terrors that plagued every night of sleep he dared to take; did he have to be injured, too? Was this some sort of malevolent ritual to break him down and bend his will? Was this really what he was going to deal with? A part of him - a timid, scared part of him - said yes. Not only would it have been easy, to fall prostrate before the king and sacrifice the shreds of dignity he had left, but it also would have been safer. It might have gotten Nightmare off his back during missions and opened a window for him to run, to get out of here for good. It sucked that Killer was stuck here, but what could Dust do? Killer couldn't run; Dust could. Was he really going to put his freedom on the line over this? Was he willing to exercise his free will, knowing that he had no chance in a fight against Nightmare?

As he felt his determination sparking in his soul, he knew that he was; it had never been in favor of giving up, after all.

"I'm not as broken as you think, you fraud." Dust shot a glare at his captor, clenching his fists to hide his shaking. "I bet you aren't even a king; you're just a peasant with a fake crown."

That..was one way to make Nightmare mad.

Killer couldn't sleep.

A week ago, Nightmare had taken him and Dust on a mission, and as usual, the king had been watching Dust to make sure he didn't try anything. But, apparently, Dust had? Killer didn't know for sure, since he'd been halfway across the town from the other two when it had happened, but he knew that, about half an hour after the three had arrived, he'd heard a scream that had echoed louder than any other he'd heard in a long time..and he'd recognized it. He'd run to the source as fast as he could, but when he got there, he found Nightmare and Dust in the middle of a nearly-destroyed storefront, a terrified shopkeeper watching as Nightmare pummeled his newest subordinate. Killer watched in shocked silence as Nightmare beat Dust to a pulp..and then some. From throwing him across the room to using his body as a wrecking ball to destroy the building further to stabbing Dust's bones again and again with his tendrils..Killer didn't want to watch. He..just couldn't.

Killer ended up sitting outside the shop for an hour; Nightmare clearly wasn't interested in spreading negativity at the moment, and honestly, Killer believed the sounds of Dust's suffering were enough to traumatize every person in this town, including Killer. After that hour, when Nightmare had slammed Dust down through the remaining floorboards of the store for the last time, Killer had expected to be taken back to the castle, where he could keep Dust company for a while; they did that for eachother when one of them was hurt, and it made things more bearable. However, that didn't end up happening. Instead, Killer was pushed through a portal back to the castle, and Nightmare brought Dust back through another one..to the dungeon.

It had been a week, and it just didn't stop.

If Killer hadn't been convinced that Nightmare wasn't mortal before, he certainly was now. Nightmare and Dust had been in the dungeon for a week, and while Dust had stopped screaming after the third day, that just meant that all his magic had been diverted to keeping him alive; he was still being tortured down there. Although Killer couldn't hear the screams anymore, he could still hear the cracking of bones, the harsh thuds against stone walls, and Nightmare's degrading remarks towards his teammate. It..made him feel for the guy - made him feel bad. It was such an odd feeling, really; it was even getting to Stage Four! Color had befriended Stage Four by proving his mettle in a pseudo-deathmatch; Dust was..making Stage Four feel bad about even thinking of laying a finger on him. This had never happened before, and honestly, Killer didn't like it! Stage Four certainly didn't like it, and neither did Three! But..what was there to do? Killer couldn't waltz down into the dungeon and demand that Nightmare stop; that would have just signed him up to be tortured next to Dust! He just..

He wished none of this had ever happened. He wished he could have been home with Color and his cats, watching a crummy movie with some mediocre food. He wished..he wished he was down there instead of Dust. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with all these confusing emotions.

Killer was forcefully dragged from his thoughts when his door opened. He sat up straight, watching as Nightmare dropped Dust on his bedroom floor, before tossing a small white box onto his battered body.

"There." Nightmare scoffed. "See what your little 'first aid kit' does for you."

As Nightmare left the room, Killer couldn't help but stare. Dust had..been trying to get a first aid kit? Something to help with injuries, to make things a little better? And Nightmare had beaten him to within an inch of his life over that?! Killer grabbed the pillow off his bed, burying his face into it before letting out a scream.

Stars! Dust had tried to do something nice for him - both of them, but..but Killer, too..

And Nightmare had done this to him because of it?

It just wasn't fair.

Killer went over to Dust, wincing as he got close enough to see his teammate's wounds. And..it was bad. Dust was a mess; there was no way he wouldn't have been, after all that. His skull was cracked like a hard-boiled egg, fractures splitering off into every direction and showing clearly where he'd been hit the hardest. Though, Nightmare hadn't made it worse than that; whether it was to maximize the surface area for pain or just to keep his pawn intact, Killer didn't know, but he found himself grateful for the small mercy. As Killer peeled back Dust's bloodstained clothes, he found more of the same: fractures and shattered bones everywhere, but only minor fractals missing, if any at all - nothing permanently damaged, nothing lost, except a few teeth that would grow back eventually. There was a lot of blood, though; it was a miracle Dust hadn't..

Killer grabbed the first aid kit, letting out a sigh; would this even do anything? Would it help at all? Killer wasn't sure, but he wasn't just going to leave Dust like this! Not..not when he'd risked his life just to do something nice for Killer. So, with all the gentleness Killer could muster, he opened the first aid kit and started to stumble his way through helping Dust.

It felt weird. A minute ago, Killer had felt pity for Dust, only because of the torment he'd been going through. Now, knowing that all of this had happened because of an act of kindness..he wasn't sure what he was feeling. He had questions, though - questions that Dust couldn't answer right now. Not while he was barely conscious, with his dim eyelights flickering on and off as he stared at nothing. But he couldn't ignore them - especially not the one at the forefront of his mind.

Did Dust care about him?

Killer wasn't used to having people care about him. He was a murderer; why would anyone have believed him worthy of their thoughts? He didn't matter, after all, with basically no redeeming qualities and a world emptied of life by him alone. He enjoyed killing people! He'd reveled in the suffering of others, and he hadn't regretted it (with the exception of Stage One)! So why would anyone care about him?

Color had been the first to challenge his stance on that. Through a shared love of music, a firm set of boundaries, a beloved..pet..and a personality that could make anyone's day at least a little better, Color had proven that Killer was worth being cared about. He'd made Killer feel like a person again, and he'd given him a second chance.

But Dust wasn't Color. Where Color was friendly, kind, and playful, Dust was serious, observant, and..strangely relatable? Killer had to admit that he and Dust had some things in common. They were both murderers, and they were both living in this castle, fending for their lives under Nightmare's control. They both had a dark sense of humor, too; Killer sometimes couldn't help himself from laughing at some of the stuff Dust said. Color had more of a palate for lighter humor, only engaging with the dark stuff on occasion, but Dust seemed to be the exact opposite. And despite how Killer tried to stay away from him (he didn't want to hinder Dust's attempts to escape, after all), Dust had still somehow thought about him enough to worry about his well-being. It just wasn't fair; Dust didn't deserve this.

Killer would have to make it up to him. Heck, he wanted to! Dust had gone through hell because of a thoughtful act, and Killer couldn't just forget that. He wouldn't let himself forget that. Whether or not Killer liked it, he couldn't deny what he felt now.

He cared about Dust.

All of him cared about Dust.

The patch job was bad. Killer didn't know how to wrap a bandage, and the limited instructions that came with the kit didn't really help him much. He used whatever he thought could help even a little, and by the time he was finished, Dust hardly looked better. The bandages in the kit had only gone so far, and Killer hadn't even been able to cover half of what he would have liked to. Did it matter, though, when the blood had already seeped through most of them? Weren't bandages supposed to stop bleeding? Killer hadn't known how to properly utilize the rest of the kit, either; the instructions made him question whether he was an idiot or if he'd received the worst first aid kit known to the multiverse. Honestly, Nightmare had probably picked out a bad one on purpose; all he wanted was to cause suffering, after all.

Regardless, Killer wanted to make Dust more comfortable; the floor wouldn't have been a good place to recover, and, well, his bed was right there. It wasn't as if he were attached to it; all the beds in this place were about the same, and there was an empty bedroom right next door he could use until Dust recovered. Although, Dust was bloody still; perhaps a towel or two under him would be good; it would be easier to change those out when needed rather than replacing sheets every time they got soaked. After making the necessary arrangements, Killer carefully picked Dust up, doing his best to avoid causing any more pain to the battered skeleton as he carried him over to his bed and set him down.

"There we go." Killer exhaled, looking at Dust with concern he couldn't mask. "That any better? Uh, don't try to respond; you don't have to hurt yourself, 'kay?"

Dust probably hadn't heard him, with the way he stared up at the ceiling vacantly. Maybe that was for the best, honestly; his magic needed to focus on keeping him alive, not paying attention to a conversation. Speaking of magic..Killer hoped some food would come soon; Dust really needed it, and Killer wasn't doing so hot on that front, either. For now, though, he couldn't do anything; he could only sit by Dust's bedside and try to be there for his..friend?

He hoped.

By the time the next mission rolled around, the two still hadn't been fed, but Killer found himself more worried about Dust; Nightmare hadn't healed him. In fact, Nightmare hadn't acknowledged Dust at all; he'd only told Killer to get ready for a mission. Killer wanted to ask about Dust, but, ultimately, his desire not to end up in the same situation as his friend won out, and he kept his mouth shut. The mission went well, and Nightmare finally let Killer have some food - Dust, too, although Killer had to help Dust eat it, since the other was paralyzed. The next mission went much the same, and the one after it was similar, too. However, after three missions, Killer had gotten up the courage to finally ask the question that had been plaguing him since the start of all this.

"Uh, boss?" Killer frowned, trying to make himself seem smaller in front of his boss; things always went better when he did that.

"What is it, Killer?" Nightmare asked, boredly.

"Um..are you going to..heal Dust?"

Nightmare's scoff basically answered Killer's question, but Nightmare decided to grace Killer with words, as well. "That impudent fool will receive no such mercy from me. He's the one who had the bright idea to undermine me; he can face the consequences and heal on his own, if he so wishes. And if you don't get out of my sight soon, maybe you'll join him."

That was enough to chase Killer away. He sighed as he entered his room, closing the door behind him. Well, that was that. Dust wasn't leaving, then; there was no way these wounds would heal before Nightmare had Dust's magic signature memorized, or whatever he did to track them. As Killer sat by Dust's bedside, though, he couldn't help but feel guilty; if Dust had really wanted that first aid kit because of Killer..then he'd sacrificed everything for him. His freedom, his chance to start a new life..all of that was gone now. He probably didn't even know it yet, though; Dust hadn't had a moment of lucidity since before the incident. At least his eyesockets were closed, now; he didn't need to waste magic on his eyelights.

After three months of sporadic, unfilling meals and nothing else, something changed. Dust..moved. It wasn't a lot, but Killer sat up when it happened, looking down at Dust with hope; was he healing? He watched silently as Dust's eyesockets slowly creaked open, his eyelights taking a few seconds to ignite for the first time in months. A small whimper escaped the injured skeleton, but in Killer's eyes, that was a good sign.

"Hey, buddy!" Killer smiled in a way that he hoped was comforting. "Don't try to talk; you've been through a lot, okay? I..I know it hurts; there's nothing we can do about it now, though. It's good to see you awake..I was worried."

Dust didn't attempt to speak, but his dim eyelights did shift over to Killer in a questioning way. Killer knew what Dust wanted to ask, though.

"You've been out cold for three months." Killer confessed. "Boss refused to heal you. I, uh, tried to patch you up, but..it just didn't do much. I'm sorry."

Dust looked as if he were about to react, but suddenly, his eyelights started to flicker again, and his consciousness drifted off again before he could do anything else. Killer sighed, looking down; it would take more time, then. But the brief moment of consciousness was good, Killer believed; it meant that Dust was starting to get a little bit of magic stored up in his reserves again.

It took ten months for Dust to heal enough to wake up for real. Brief moments of consciousness had gotten more common as time went on, with some stints even lasting several minutes; Dust had even said a few words once, although Killer wanted him to save his magic for when he was better. But when Dust woke up this time, Killer could see a clear difference between this time and the last. Dust seemed far more aware, and he even smiled when he saw Killer.

"Hey..morning, sleepyhead." Killer smiled back. "You feeling a little better?"

Dust nodded a bit, before trying to look down at himself. He didn't say anything, but Killer got the message regardless.

"You're still recovering." He sighed. "You're coming along, though. Can you move anything?"

Dust systematically tried to move every part of his body, but the only major things that responded were his neck and one of his arms.

"Better than nothing." Killer smiled. "Well, um, I think we'll get fed soon, hopefully; that should help."

Dust nodded a bit, and Killer decided to talk to him for a while; while the past ten months hadn't been too eventful outside of Dust's condition improving, that didn't mean nothing had happened! Color had showed up a few times, although nothing had come of it, aside from a few hushed conversations; Killer had told Color about Dust, and Color had agreed to Killer's insistence upon staying with his teammate until he got better, at the very least.

Maybe Color could save both of them someday.

Once Dust was able to remain conscious for more than an hour or two at a time, his recovery sped up significantly; thirteen months in, he regained his mobility, and Nightmare decided that he was ready to return to action..even though he really wasn't. But when Nightmare made a decision, it was final; there was nothing Killer or Dust could do to argue..and neither of them really wanted to try. Dust, especially, didn't want to try.

Dust had changed. Before the incident, he'd always been open for a chat, made jokes often, and tried to form a bond with Killer, clinging to the one grounding presence in this castle to make things seem a little less horrible. But now, Dust was..far quieter. He barely spoke, listening far more than speaking during conversations, and he tended to mumble when he did speak. He was also..timid. Whenever Nightmare was nearby, Dust made himself smaller, and he obeyed every order he was given without hesitation; he..he'd been scarred. Anyone would have been. Even so, Killer didn't like seeing it.

But..what could he do, other than be there for his friend? Nothing. Not right now.

So he just..was there. Dust couldn't escape from Nightmare now, anyway (he didn't even try, likely too afraid to dare), which meant that he and Killer were stuck with eachother regardless; they might as well have gotten to know eachother better. So, during their missions, they talked as they carried out their orders (mostly Killer talking and Dust listening, admittedly), and while they were at the castle, they were practically inseparable; it was nice. After a little while, too, Dust did make a full recovery. It just..hurt to watch. After one mission during which Dust had gotten some bad injuries, Nightmare had mocked him, not allowing Killer to do or say anything to defend his friend. Nightmare had said the cruelest things to Dust, from bullying insults and derogatory names to soul-crushing taunts that had effectively driven Dust to tears. Killer had never wanted to murder anyone so badly before as he did when hearing all of that. Nightmare had already broken Dust down; did he have to do more? What point was there in doing more?

The point of it made Killer's blood boil. As he watched from afar (Nightmare had made a point of restraining him before he could get close enough to stop the king from having his "fun"), Nightmare ultimately brought up a choice for Dust to make; if he would be willing to beg for Nightmare to heal him, the king would consider it.

Killer didn't know what emotion he felt when he watched Dust drop to the ground, sobs creeping out between his words as he did exactly what Nightmare wanted. All he knew was that he wanted to kill the tyrant who'd tormented him and his friend for far too long. Nightmare was lucky he'd been smart enough to restrain Killer's mouth as well as his limbs, because if he hadn't..Killer wished he hadn't.

Nightmare healed Dust in the end, and Dust showed the gratefulness that Nightmare wanted. It was sickening, what that monster had done to Killer's friend. By the time Killer was released, Nightmare was unfortunately gone, leaving Stage Four without a target - pity. But Stage One would have been crying right now, and Stage Three wanted to hunt down the king and attack him with everything he had. Stage Two decided to check on Dust first.

"Hey.." Killer approached Dust. "I.."

Dust looked up at Killer for a moment, before burying his face deep in his knees as he curled up tightly; he was still bawling. Killer let out a sigh, sitting next to him.

"I'm sorry." Killer sighed. "Do you..want-"

Dust didn't hesitate, and Killer didn't deny him. Dust collapsed into Killer's arms, and Killer just held him as he cried. As it went on, Killer did his best to offer his comfort and support; he knew Dust needed it. He could try to kill Nightmare later.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Killer whispered reassurances to Dust, who was clinging to him as if his life depended on it (it might have). "And you..you didn't deserve that abuse. None of it..not a single word."

Neither of them did.

It was another mission. According to Nightmare, it was supposed to be a simple average mission, just like most of the others - no special tasks in sight, just spreading negativity.

"But then, really, what's the point of sleeping upside-down?" Killer asked, as he tossed a lighter at a building coated in gasoline. "You can't taste things in your sleep, and if you did taste it, it's probably because you're about to throw up all the blood you just sucked up from your last victim!"

Dust tilted his skull, watching the building go up in flames in a flash.

"Vampires are better off sleeping in coffins." Killer stated his opinion. "Way better as a stylistic choice, and it's probably a lot safer for them!"

Dust nodded.

"Yeah, you get it! Plus, it's not a law that they have to sleep on their backs; they can sleep on their sides! And if they can't, they've got plenty of time to learn how to modify a coffin or build a bigger one! Or they could just have one shipped to their spooky mansion!"

Killer was about to move on to the next target he had in mind, but he paused when something new happened: a yellow portal opened nearby, and two skeletons came through it. One wore yellow and cyan, having golden eyelights that were brighter than any others Killer had ever seen. The other wore brown, mostly, with a bit of green, and he had a black spot on his cheek, along with eyelights that changed every time he blinked. And he had a giant paintbrush on his back, too, for some reason? Killer certainly didn't know why. All he knew was that Nightmare was suddenly right beside him, glaring down the yellow-clothed skeleton. Killer suddenly felt very awkward - as if he'd stumbled into something he had no right to see. And judging by Dust's stance, he felt similarly.

"Nightmare, you can't keep doing this!" The golden-eyed skeleton's tone gave an odd sense of disappointment, which Killer didn't believe was a suitable response for the crimes that were being committed here.

"Dream..how expected." Nightmare scoffed. "You know-"

Killer tuned Nightmare out. The other was named Dream? Dream..and Nightmare? Was Killer living in some coincidental timeline, or did these two have some history? The tension in the air was too thick for it to be a coincidence, though; there was clearly something going on here! But..what? Was Dream some kind of superhero? Nightmare seemed enough like a supervillain..

"Minions?" Dream's shocked tone forced Killer's attention back to the situation, which was..noticeably hostile. "Nightmare, you can't bring mortals into our conflicts; they could get hurt!"

"So?" Nightmare shook his head with a small chuckle. "Frankly, I don't care if they die; I can get more!"

..That was not reassuring.

"That's a horrible thing to say, Nightmare!" Dream gasped. "Those are people!"

"I hadn't noticed. Killer, Dust, fight."

Killer couldn't say that he didn't believe Nightmare; the king had never acknowledged Killer and Dust's status as mortals except to cause them pain, after all. The sentiment really didn't even hurt at this point; Killer was used to it. He simply unsheathed a knife and started to attack the skeleton with the brush, with Dust summoning a barrage of attacks to join the fight. Nightmare fought Dream.

The skeleton in brown (had his name been mentioned? Killer couldn't remember) fought with his giant paintbrush for some reason, but Killer had seen weirder things in his time; it was fine. He just had to fight; that was what he was good at. He dodged the other's swings with his paintbrush a few times, getting into a rhythm as he stabbed out to try to deal some damage, but his opponent was quick to avoid the blades. Dust was sending magic attacks from behind Killer, doing his best to offer support and defense while ticking away at the paintbrush skeleton - he was strong, but Killer and Dust-

Okay. Maybe..that Dream guy was right. The paintbrush skeleton had let out a sigh before upping his speed, force, and everything else; what had been a decent fight at first had quickly turned into a one-sided beatdown. Killer hated to admit it, but he really wasn't a match for this guy, and neither was Dust. The paintbrush skeleton had brought both of them down less than thirty seconds after deciding to end the fight, and once it was over, it was definitely over; the other just looked down at his fallen enemies for a couple seconds before heading over to help Dream fight Nightmare.

Maybe it was a stupid idea to hope that these two would rescue Killer and Dust from Nightmare. It probably was; the duo only seemed interested in fighting Nightmare, after all. They probably hadn't considered the possibility that Killer and Dust weren't working for Nightmare willingly. Color was probably the most selfless person in the multiverse; only he would have considered saving anyone from Nightmare. Killer just expected too much - that was all. After a couple minutes, Nightmare's battle with Dream and the paintbrush skeleton ended, with Nightmare ending up retreating. Of course, he didn't forget Killer and Dust, simply opening a portal beneath their limp bodies to take them back to the castle. Instantly, Killer realized that Dust had lucked out; his quiet teammate was unconscious. Unfortunately, Killer wasn't, and that meant that Nightmare's rage defaulted onto him.

"Worthless!" Nightmare growled, pinning Killer against a wall with a tentacle. "I told you to fight! Why did you stay down?! You useless excuses for killers - I ought to lock the both of you in the dungeon and be done with you!"

Killer couldn't help the glare that crawled onto his face as Stage Three took over. "It's not our fault we can barely fight - it's a miracle we can even survive, with the scraps you feed us! We did everything we could!"

"Scraps?" Nightmare scoffed. "You dare call the meals I provide you scraps?"

"Yes!" Killer could hardly believe what he was hearing! "I've seen prison camps that offer better food than you do! I'd rather be in a prison camp than work for you!"

"Oh, really?"

"Absolutely."

Maybe it was the way Killer spoke - with clear conviction, a truth to his words that couldn't be faked - or maybe it was the fact that Nightmare wasn't at his peak condition after that fight, but the dark king paused. He..didn't retort? Nothing about how useless Killer was, or how he should have done better? No threat to actually send him to a prison camp?

"..You aren't lying." Nightmare eyed Killer, and the murderer could practically see the gears turning in the king's mind.

"Why would I?" Killer gritted his teeth.

Nightmare let out a soft hum, his gaze lowering a bit as he considered the situation. "I am not mortal, Killer. I have fed you and Dust the bare minimum that it takes me to survive..although, that seems to be unsatisfactory."

"..You eat food?" Killer blinked; he'd never seen Nightmare eat before..but, of course, he didn't see Nightmare most of the time..

"Yes, I eat food!" Nightmare scoffed. "What kind of idiotic question is that?!"

"Well, sorry!" Killer backed off, only to keep Nightmare from ending this discussion; did he seriously not know that mortals needed to eat food often to survive? "I just..never saw you do it."

"..You wouldn't. Killer, tell me: what do mortals eat? Have I been underfeeding you two?"

"...Yeah." Killer glared. "A lot. We're supposed to eat three meals a day - all larger than one of the rations you give us! We've been barely holding on for the whole time we've been here; didn't you see that?! You claim to be so smart, but you don't even know what people eat?!"

That remark earned Killer a few slams into the wall, but he didn't regret it - well..maybe a little, when his head started spinning.

"So you're hungry." Nightmare gathered. "I see. Well..I shall have to fix that; I need you at your best, after all. However..I expect to see improvement next time we battle with those two idiots. And that will be soon, Killer - I've decided that you and Dust are ready to start attending these conflicts, and they happen far often than you might think. Be ready, Killer."

With that, Nightmare let go of Killer, letting him drop to the floor. But Killer wasn't ready to end this conversation just yet.

"H-hey.." Killer rolled over to look up at Nightmare. "Who..were those guys?"

"..Ink and Dream." Nightmare answered, briefly. "The Star Sanses - our enemies."

Nightmare left Killer, and the murderer passed out shortly after. A lot changed after that, though, particularly regarding food. Instead of bringing Killer and Dust a meal every so often, Nightmare began to send the two out on a different type of mission: supply runs. On supply runs, Nightmare dropped Killer and Dust off in a surface city in a random AU and gave them an hour to grab whatever food they would need to sustain themselves for the next week. It was actually..kind of nice. Supply runs were a lot less stressful than regular missions, and Killer and Dust had time to enjoy their surroundings after grabbing enough food for the week. Of course, they did have to steal that food (Nightmare didn't pay them, and they no longer had the money they'd had when the king had kidnapped them or what little they got from missions, due to how many times Nightmare had beaten both of them into submission during their "employment"), but they could be sneaky; they hardly ever got caught, and if they did, they could just teleport across town in an instant anyway. It was simple, really. Plus, it never took the two that long to get the food they would need, leaving plenty of time to relax! It was a pity that Color never showed up during these supply runs, though; Killer and Dust were never allowed to make enough racket to attract anyone's attention.

"I think he's more than kinda weird." Killer shrugged, leaning back in the bench the two had decided to relax in until Nightmare came back to pick them up. "Like, seriously - did you see him literally drink that paint last time we fought?"

Dust nodded, giving Killer a bit of a disturbed expression; the sight had certainly been something.

"I can't stand it when it gets in my mouth." Killer shuddered. "It's gross, and the guy drinks it!"

Killer and Dust had faced Ink and Dream several times by now, although they had fared much better in battle after Nightmare had given them the ability to get their own food. They mostly got canned foods and some fruits, sinece neither of them were great cooks, but every once in a while, Killer would do something a little special. Dust couldn't cook, though. He didn't really want to, either; he was still doing bad mentally, after what had happened. Killer didn't think he'd heard more than fifty words from the guy since he'd started going out on missions again.

"Maybe he does it as a scare tactic." Killer pondered. "It would make sense, since-"

Killer flinched, his sentence cutting off as he heard a rumbling sound off in the distance. Both he and Dust turned around in their seats, seeing a sight that was enough to scare both of them: one of the buildings in the distance had basically been sliced in half! Part of it was about to fall down onto the streets below!

"Woah..think it's some kind of terrorist attack?" Killer asked, receiving a shrug from Dust. "We should probably get out of here..I got a bad feeling."

Dust nodded, moving to grab Killer's hand to pull him through a teleport, but before the two could leave, the sound of buzzing magic invaded the area, and threads of blue began to impale..everything? People, buildings, trees - everything was being targeted by this strange new magic!

"Uh..okay, yeah, let's get moving.." Killer didn't want to stick around for this, taking Dust's hand to await a teleport.

Dust did his part, getting the two as far away from the chaos as he could, but despite the distance, the blue strings were still present; that wasn't good. Killer looked around, searching for a place to hide, since running didn't seem to be the play here, but as he did, he came face to face with someone he certainly didn't want to see.

"Outcodes!" The staticky voice paired with the unique face reminded him of a very specific description he'd once heard - a description of a person he'd been warned to stay away from even more than Nightmare.

Black bones, with red, yellow, and blue accents. Glitches pulling at the skeleton's body before putting the pieces back instantaneously. An affinity for blue threads that could kill in an instant or string someone along for a while until the puppetmaster grew tired of his entertainment.

This was Error, the Destroyer of Worlds, the absolute last person anyone wanted to be close to.

Killer grabbed Dust's wrist and ran. Admittedly, that might not have been the best idea, considering the amused cackling that came from behind him, but it was better than freezing up in front of the one who had made it his life's goal to purge the world of anyone he deemed an "abomination," which was..everyone. He was merciless, fast, and relentless, and Killer honestly would have preferred an angry Nightmare than this guy! Luckily, Dust seemed to understand that, running as fast as he could to gain more speed in the duo's retreat. Killer heard some glitchy taunts from behind them, but he couldn't decipher anything but the tone - he was too focused on not dying today! Killer and Dust were forced to stop when a blue thread shot out in front of them, clearly aimed to catch them if they touched it; they barely skidded to a stop before it, and Dust decided to fight back to gain some time for Killer to figure out their next route, shooting a barrage of blasters at the glitchy skeleton.

They did absolutely nothing.

Error's strings surrounded the duo, and despite Dust's best efforts, the Destroyer wasn't delayed; if anything, the attacks amused him.

"Can't portal?" Error chuckled lowly. "Pathetic excuses for outcodes. You're practically inviting me to kill you - and I accept!"

Killer was convinced this was it. They were going to die, and this was going to be the end, with them killed by a maniac's blue strings in a universe slated to be destroyed. It had all happened..way too fast. Everything had been fine a minute ago; how had things gotten so bad so quickly? Dust probably..Dust probably didn't even know who this was! Had Killer ever told Dust about the Destroyer? He didn't remember..did it matter, if they were about to die regardless? Killer and Dust had nowhere to run as Error approached them, likely considering how to kill them.

But, by some luck, it never got that far. A negative aura flooded the surrounding area before Error could act upon whatever he had planned, and that aura was enough to give him pause.

"Nightmare?" Error hissed as the king appeared between him and the duo.

"Destroyer." Nightmare shook his skull. "These mortals belong to me; you'd do well to leave them be."

"As if I couldn't-"

Error's thought was cut off as Nightmare pulled Killer and Dust through a portal; his warning had worked as a sufficient distraction to escape. Dust and Killer were both still spooked, though, which was likely the only reason Nightmare stuck around after bringing them back to the castle; he wanted to feed off their negativity.

"It is fortunate that I was keeping tabs on you two." Nightmare commented. "I wouldn't have wanted to lose my pawns to the white."

"..Th-the white?" Killer dared to ask.

"Well..it looked as if he was planning to kill you personally, but if he'd left you alive to be eaten by the white of a universe being destroyed..all my research indicates that it's worse than torture."

Dust and Killer both flinched at the description, gracing Nightmare's face with a smirk. The king then walked off, leaving the two behind to process what had happened. So..the two had just almost died, and Nightmare had saved them. It was only to preserve their lives, since they were useful to him (neither of them doubted that), but..wow, they had almost died.

"Do you..want to grab something to eat?" Killer didn't know what else to do, and Dust didn't either, judging by the hesitant nod he gave. "'Kay..let's get this food to the kitchen, then."

The two went to the kitchen, and they ate; what else was there to do? As they did, though, Killer found himself grateful. He and Dust hadn't died; it wasn't the end. He still had the chance to see Color again, and he would be able to spend more time with Dust.

There was more to do with his life.

There was..a lot more to do.

Color didn't end up saving Killer. He'd tried so many times, but..Nightmare had eventually gotten sick of it. He'd taken Killer to the dungeon in a bid to brainwash him into hating Color, and while it hadn't worked, Killer had only barely been able to convince Nightmare that it had; he'd had to tell Color to stop trying to rescue him - they would figure something else out, something that Nightmare wouldn't know about. If they were seen together, Killer would have to try to kill his friend; Nightmare wouldn't have settled for anything less.

At least he had one friend. Dust was great. Dust..was the only one Killer really had. He was there when Nightmare had a bad day and decided to beat the two for no reason, and he was there when the castle was peaceful and quiet. He was even starting to talk a little more, at least when he and Killer were alone! He tended not to speak during missions, and only the bare minimum around Nightmare, since the king wouldn't accept a mute soldier.

So, naturally, Dust was the first one Killer came to when he believed he'd made a horrible mistake.

It had been a solo mission - scouting out a universe that Nightmare had wanted to attempt to "conquer," for whatever reason. But in the middle of his mission, Error had shown up and doomed the universe to destruction. That wasn't common, this only being the third time Killer had ever seen Error, but this was the first time Killer had seen the white. Watching it eat at buildings, hearing the screams of its victims and the pleas for it to stop..it was sickening. He'd curled up in an alleyway and let the negativity get to him, just to act as a beacon for Nightmare to find him quicker. But, as he'd sat in that alley, he'd heard something - a small mewl. Turning his head, he'd seen the source: a kitten, likely only a couple weeks old at most. It had looked up at him with eyes filled with uncertainty, and after it had jolted at the sound of a nearby scream, Killer had found himself imagining the poor kitten being eaten by the white.

He'd hidden it in his jacket before he'd properly thought of the repercussions of the action; he just couldn't bear the thought of this poor creature dying a painful death. Mere seconds later, Nightmare had come to take Killer back to the castle, and after hearing the king sigh about his plans being ruined, Killer had come to Dust's room, finding the other in the middle of a nap.

"Dusty!" Killer whispered, coming to Dust's bedside.

Dust let out a groan, giving Killer an annoyed look.

"Dust, I need help!"

Killer's words swept away some of Dust's exhaustion, and the shorter skeleton sat up, looking at his teammate in question. Killer simply reached into his jacket, and he pulled out the kitten, who mewed quietly at Dust.

"You didn't." Dust stared at the feline in shock. "You..you know he.."

"I know!" Killer held the kitten close. "I wasn't thinking! I-I was just on that mission, and Error came and started destroying the universe, and it came up to me, and- and I just..I couldn't let it die!"

Dust frowned, looking down at the kitten. "We can't keep it."

"I..I know.." Killer pet the kitten gently, the kit melting into his embrace. "It..I don't know what to do. It can't survive on its own outside.."

"It can't survive here; we don't have anything to feed it. We have to let it go on our next mission, Killer."

Killer nodded. "But how do we get it through until then? He'll be able to feel its emotions.."

"I..I don't even know how to feed it, Killer.."

"How to feed what?" A new (old) voice asked, from behind the two; their shared flinch didn't help their cause. "Oh, are my pawns hiding something from me? Do tell."

Killer hated how fast he practically shoved the kitten into his jacket before turning around, but it had to be done. "O-oh, hey, boss! We were just talking about-" Killer's lie came to an abrupt halt as a sharpened tentacle darted forth to hover just below his chin.

"About what?" Nightmare chuckled. "Oh, don't be afraid to tell me; this is a safe space, Killer!"

No. No, it wasn't. Everyone here knew that much.

"M-mold." Dust stuttered a response. "F-feeding mold..in the..the b-basement.."

Nightmare was severely unimpressed. "Dust..you are a horrible liar. I honestly cannot even bring myself to reprimand you for that. Killer, tell me what you two were talking about."

"..." Killer opened his mouth to say something - anything that Nightmare would believe - but before he could think of anything worth trying, a small mew came from inside his jacket.

"What was that?" Nightmare tilted his head. "Killer."

"U-uh, a, uh, a..probably a spider! They can bark, you know! Uh..probably from the next room over! Had a lot of spiders recently, and-"

"Empty your pockets, Killer."

A forced laugh left Killer, and slowly, he went through his pockets, pulling out everything, from knives to candy wrappers - everything but the cat. "That's it, boss! W-well, I'm-"

"Take off your jacket."

As a full-body flinch plagued Killer, Dust did what he could to help, skillfully obeying Nightmare's command and taking off his own jacket, revealing nothing and even putting his arms up to display the lack of anything suspicious. Nightmare..didn't even address Dust's distraction. The king's full focus was on Killer, and it was suffocating. If Nightmare found this kitten, he would kill it, just like Pep and Cheese and Marshmallow, and Killer couldn't let that happen - he couldn't! As he slid the sleeves of his jacket down, his soul changed into a crisp crosshair, and he lunged forth, grabbing a knife and shedding his jacket behind him - covering the poor kitten - as he attacked Nightmare. But the moment he got close enough to stab the king, all four of Nightmare's tentacles moved to wrap around him, and although he could avoid a few, he was by no means skilled enough to avoid them all. Once one got a hold on Killer, the rest followed, and Nightmare's warning glare was enough to force Dust to shrink and stand down as he lifted the concealing jacket.

"Don't hurt it!" Killer begged, only to be silenced by one of the tentacles restraining him; his muffled pleads were useless against Nightmare.

"I don't recall giving you permission to bring this filth into my castle, Killer." Nightmare ignored Killer's reactions; the murderer was powerless right now. "I suppose I'll have to dispose of it. But..I suppose you can watch, if you're so inclined; perhaps this will dissuade you from acting out again in the future."

Nightmare lifted a hand, and he formed it into a spike, before stabbing it through the kitten's body, right through its tiny head. Killer couldn't watch the life drain from its eyes; there weren't any left. With a scoff and a mutter about a pitiful, worthless life, Nightmare dropped Killer and teleported away, leaving him with the corpse of his failure. He..what?

What..?

Killer crawled over to the lifeless kitten, lifting its limp body; it was so light..so small. He didn't know what to do; he ended up just holding it close to his sternum, trembling as his soul tried to decide which stage should have had control, but it just couldn't. He couldn't. He didn't know whether to cry or scream - both? Neither?

As Dust slid off the bed to offer the little comfort he could, Killer's body curled in on itself, and he let out a strangled whine. He didn't know what else to do. There was nothing else to do.

He'd failed, and this poor creature had suffered the cost.

Killer had been a lot more talkative after the incident. Dust wasn't sure if it was a coping mechanism or what, but he certainly wasn't going to say anything that could have made things worse. Dust would just listen, as he always did; he was good at listening. Though, Dust knew Killer wasn't exactly happy; he'd briefly mentioned before that he'd had pet cats, back in his home AU, and he'd always been so happy to praise the felines he'd had, but he'd never spoken about what had happened to them when Nightmare had taken him.

Dust had a feeling that the cats hadn't survived that encounter.

Regardless, Killer was hurting, and his way of expressing it was just about the opposite of Dust's: he spoke instead of going mute, sought company instead of hiding away, and avoided the topic entirely instead of facing it. Dust couldn't blame him, honestly; there were some days he wished he could repress everything and pretend nothing bad had ever happened in this castle. But that just wasn't how things worked; some things just refused to go away, while others disappeared like a fleeting wind. So Dust hadn't expected to see Killer repeat his actions.

But..truthfully, Dust hadn't been too surprised when Killer did, nearly half a year later.

This time, Killer had been far more discreet about it; he'd practically become an blank slate to avoid triggering Nightmare's senses, and he'd made sure to keep Dust from reacting too much, too, with a few skillfully-placed conversation topics. It had been the same situation as before - a cat he'd stumbled onto in a world that had been condemned to destruction - but Killer seemed to have planned everything out this time. He had grabbed cat food during a supply run at some point, and he'd made a small (inescapable) temporary home for the cat to stay in under his bed until he could relocate it. He'd..really done everything he could to change the situation - more than Dust would have done. And once he'd shown Dust the cat den? He'd gone back to the way he'd been acting for the past several months - chatty, excitable, and happy. He..really had planned everything.

"No way!" Killer chuckled, watching the castle's secret inhabitant play with a ball of yarn behind him as he and Dust sat in front of the hidden home. "You were way better in that fight; Ink was intimidated, Dusty."

Dust rolled his eyelights. "Nuh-uh."

Neither of them said a word about the cat. Neither of them addressed its existence at all verbally; Nightmare could have been listening. But, as far as they knew, he didn't watch them - not constantly, not in the castle. So they could physically interact with the cat, but only sparingly; they wouldn't risk anything. And so far, things had been working out; the cat had been here for five days, and Nightmare hadn't given the two any indication that he knew about the feline.

"No, really!" Killer stood firm on his point. "I think he was impressed, too; it takes a lot to impress someone that strong, you know! Maybe someday, we'll get so strong that we'll be able to fight him at full strength - he holds back, you know!"

"Does he?" Dust inquired.

"Yeah, he does! You ever watch boss near him? I've seen him flinch! He's obviously scared, even if he tries to hide it, which means Ink is stronger than boss!"

Dust tilted his head, clearly not convinced. "Then why not just defeat him?"

"Well-" Killer paused, looking down. "I don't know? Um..honestly, those guys are kind of weird; I'm not sure what they really want. I mean, if they wanted to help people, they'd have snatched us from boss, but that didn't happen, so..maybe they just like fighting boss?"

Dust shrugged; it was their best working theory, truly.

"Well, whatever it is, they do fight boss a lot, so-" Killer's sentence was interrupted by the door's opening - Nightmare. The duo flinched, but that was nothing out-of-the-ordinary; it even provided a nice cover for the blanket on Killer's bed to come down and shield the cat from Nightmare's view.

"It's time to go out." Nightmare informed.

"Yes, boss." Dust replied, immediately.

"Right, boss!" Killer nodded, standing up. "Oh, gotta grab a knife."

As Killer knelt down to grab the "knife," Dust stood up, approaching Nightmare, but he strategically tripped halfway to his boss, grabbing Nightmare's full attention. The few seconds during which Nightmare was focused on scolding Dust was enough time for Killer to gently deposit the cat into his jacket, using his ribcage as a nice comfy spot for the cat to sit for a moment. Once the cat was safe, Killer came over to the other two, and the trio left the castle to begin their mission.

The mission was a normal one: spreading negativity by destroying lives, families, and buildings. Killer had plenty of time to drop the cat off in a secluded area, and once it was safe, he went back to work, returning to his normal disposition as he chatted with Dust and caused chaos.

Despite everything, there was still some good..

There was always a little good.

Years passed.

Things changed.

Dust and Killer had gotten stronger, but that was to be expected; one of their only "recreational activities" was sparring, after all. They'd become stronger in more ways than just physical and magical strength, though; they'd also gone through a lot together. They'd had to endure Nightmare's wrath more times than they could count, as well as having to carry out any and every order he gave them; not everything was as easy as killing a few monsters and destroying some buildings. Sometimes, Nightmare wanted to conquer an AU, and who were Killer and Dust to refuse? No one - they were no one. Although, the AU they'd conquered had apparently had ties with Error, of all people, and he hadn't allowed their occupation to last long; he'd beaten Nightmare to a pulp (the first time Killer and Dust had ever seen Nightmare severely injured, actually) and forced him to retreat. It had been an experience, although Nightmare had taken out his anger on the two afterwards.

While enduring hardship, though, Killer and Dust had also figured out a skill that Nightmare hadn't planned on: portal magic. Nightmare had taken to leaving Dust or Killer stranded in remote locations in isolated AUs as punishments from time to time, and it was never pleasant; Dust, particularly, hated being left alone like that, and whenever it happened, he focused exclusively on getting back to the castle. It had been an interesting day when Dust had first showed up in one of the halls of the castle through a portal of his own making; Nightmare had been furious! But, at least, once Dust had taught Killer how to make his own portals, they weren't tossed into blizzards and left to fend for themselves until Nightmare came to end their punishments anymore. They were just dragged to the dungeon..

Was that really any better? Killer couldn't decide.

Well, whether it was or not didn't really matter; it was just their reality, now.

As the years went by, some definite good happened, too, though. Killer was able to relocate a few dozen animals who would have been killed for one reason or another - mostly from Error's attacks - and he succeeded far more than he failed..it was better than letting them certainly die, at least. As well as that, though, he and Color were starting to figure out the beginnings of a plan; Color had taken up the role of a multiversal hero, fighting small-time criminals to learn the ropes of the villain-fighting business in preparation to one day take down Nightmare. It would take a while, they knew, but it wasn't as if they didn't have time!

They had all the time they could have wanted, and there was no point not to use it.

While Color trained on the outside, Dust and Killer did their best to get through each day on the inside; they'd really grown closer over the years, and really, they didn't think they could have gotten this far without eachother. Being alone here..wouldn't have been good for either of them. They were like brothers, at this point, and they wouldn't have had it any other way.

At least, they hadn't considered another way, until one day nine years after they'd been recruited.

"So, like, I'm pretty sure that's a holiday, right?" Killer asked, twirling his pencil with his fingers. "It sounds like one: 'International Moss Day.' I'm telling you - that's a holiday!"

"It's a cultural event where humans and monsters exchange cultural norms." Dust shrugged. "Eating moss is just the biggest blindside, so they named it after that."

Killer let out a hum. "Still weirded out by that - eating moss is gross! I don't understand how humans can eat that stuff."

"You've eaten moss before?"

"Hey, I'll try anything once! So, what are we thinking? Holiday?"

"..What would boss do if it was?"

"Good question.." Killer pondered it. "Maybe we should put it under 'peace agreement' so it sounds less like something he can ruin.."

"Sounds good to me." Dust wrote it in.

Paperwork was something both Killer and Dust were well-acquainted with; every mission required a report, and when Nightmare wanted to conquer a universe, he wanted to know everything about it before he even considered invading it, to avoid anything like that Underswap fiasco a few years back. And when Nightmare wanted to know "everything" about a universe, he meant it, unfortunately..

"All right, moving on.." Killer yawned, flipping to the next page of the paperwork. "Did you do the geopolitical investigation? Because I didn't."

"Mhm." Dust nodded, taking the paper and starting to write down his findings.

"'Kay. You want me to grab refills while you do that?"

"Yes, please."

"All right." Killer grabbed the two's empty mugs to refill them (with coffee, of course, being one of the only things that made paperwork a little more bearable). "Be back in a sec."

Killer got up and started heading for the door, but just before he got to it, a sound rang out through the castle - a sound that made both Killer and Dust flinch. They looked at eachother with concern as the sound continued; it didn't seem as if it were going to stop anytime soon.

A scream.

There were few instances Nightmare ever used the dungeon, and for most of them, he always had Killer, Dust, or both of them capture the prisoner and take them back to the dungeon; he..never did it himself. Not unless he was punishing Killer or Dust. And he certainly never left the castle on his own just to return with a prisoner; that was "work for his lackeys." So..who was in the dungeon? Why were they in the dungeon? Killer and Dust had a silent exchange for a few seconds before nodding to eachother; it was time to snoop. Dust put the paperwork to the side, and Killer teleported the mugs to the kitchen before the two of them began to make their way to the dungeon. As they got closer, the screaming got clearer, and they could tell that it was coming from..probably a Sans? One with a very deep voice, if it was.

The duo slowly crept down the stairs to the dungeon, both wincing as the screams peaked a few times; whoever it was, Nightmare was having a field day with them. Soon enough, Killer and Dust reached the bottom of the stairs, and they peeked around the corner, much like Killer had when Dust had first been recruited. And..this looked a lot like that event, actually? Nightmare was torturing a Sans, all right - one who had a giant hole in his skull, and who already looked quite beat up for the amount of time he'd been here. He was tall, too, and he had but one eyelight: a red one, but much thicker and brighter than either of Dust's. The Sans was trying to fight back against Nightmare, yelling something at him between screams of pain, but it was hard to decipher; Killer couldn't make out much of anything, except..his name? That Sans surely didn't know who he was, right?

"He's saying my name." Killer whispered to Dust.

"..He's saying 'brother.'" Dust replied, in just as quiet of a tone.

The two paused, looking at eachother as the recognizable words the Sans shouted began to make sense. The Sans was fighting Nightmare with everything he had, and he was saying..was it true? Would Nightmare..?

"Y-you d-agh-dirty brother killer!" The Sans yelled.

Killer and Dust were silent, moving back around the corner to lean against the wall. There was no questioning whether or not Nightmare would - the duo had seen him kill several Papyruses before, as well as ordering Killer and Dust to carry out such executions. It was just..something they tried not to think about. Killer and Dust had both killed their brothers. Dust had done it in a bid to protect him, in a weird, twisted sort of way, while Killer had done it..for fun. But, truthfully, Killer had thought about that a lot recently.

Killing wasn't fun anymore. It was just..a job. It had been fun when it had been introduced to him, and he hadn't minded it when he'd been ordered to kill at first, working for Nightmare. But..learning to appreciate people had soured the thought of taking their lives; why kill, when he could have learned about people instead? Dust was awesome, and Killer wouldn't have ever gotten to know him if he'd just killed him! Not that Nightmare would have let him, but still..there was no enjoyment to be gained from taking lives anymore. It was..starting to revolt him. And that was saying something, considering the fact that his literal name was Killer! It was ironic, that the thing that would ultimately want to make him stop killing was the freedom to do it, but it was.

Color would be proud of him, someday..

Dust and Killer sat there for a while - probably hours, honestly. There was no way they would have been able to do their paperwork with this going on; it wasn't worth it to even try. So they waited for Nightmare to finish. And, eventually, he did; by the time it was over, though, the Sans had stopped yelling about Nightmare's murder of his brother. It was no surprise, really - Nightmare was good at shutting people up when he wanted to be. With his victim whimpering on the dungeon floor, Nightmare crossed his arms and called out to his subordinates.

"Killer, Dust." He didn't need to shout. "I know you're there; come."

With a healthy amount of hesitance, the two subordinates got up and turned the corner, approaching their boss. Nightmare let out a sigh as he looked at the two - why, neither of them knew. It didn't seem as if he were going to tell them, though. He rarely did, when it came to stuff like that.

"Boys, this is Horror." Nightmare informed. "He will be your new teammate. Show him around the castle and give him whatever knowledge he needs to properly serve me."

And then Nightmare disappeared, leaving Killer and Dust with the..new guy? Immediately, Dust noticed a problem, staring down at the barely-conscious skeleton.

"'Show him around?'" Dust blinked. "How are we supposed to show him around when he's half dead?!"

Killer was about to agree, but before he could, a thought came to his mind - a short wave of nostalgia that led him to burst into laughter. Dust, not privy to the humor of the situation, tilted his skull.

"What?" He looked at Killer in confusion. "Is this funny to you?"

"H-hah, sorry!" Killer's laughing died down a bit, devolving into giggles before he finally regained his composure. "Sorry, ah..just funny. He, uh, said the same thing to me when he brought you in! Same orders and everything - you weren't doing so hot!"

Dust looked down at the beaten skeleton, before letting out a small chuckle. "I..remember that. Barely, but I do. So..what do we do?"

"We could try doing what I did - sittin' and waitin' for boss to come heal him up. That's better than you and me trying to drag him through the castle for a tour, anyway - he's..kinda big."

Dust just nodded, taking a good look at the new guy along with Killer. "Kinda big" was..an understatement.
It was an incredible understatement, actually. Horror was huge. Average skeleton height was about five to five and a half feet tall, and this guy was nowhere near that. Though, Dust was a shortie (his three and a half feet did him no favors when it came to teasing), and Killer was five feet; maybe this guy would average out the team's collective height!

"Bet you could fit inside his ribcage." Killer stated, suddenly.

"Killer!" Dust looked horrified at the prospect, and Killer couldn't help but laugh.

"Just talkin' hypothetically, Dusty!" Killer grinned. "Come on, let's watch him, I guess."

Dust sighed, but he didn't argue, simply entering the cell to sit by the new guy; Killer followed, and the two sat down next to Horror. The poor guy's mind was probably too scrambled to even know Killer and Dust were there, but that was okay; Killer and Dust had both been there before. They decided to use the old tried and true method of talking to help. It was mostly Killer talking about random stuff with Dust listening, but it didn't matter, as long as someone was talking. They hoped it would help, despite everything Horror had gone through.

An hour or so passed, and Nightmare finally showed up to heal Horror, muttering about Killer and Dust being incompetent as he did. The insults didn't really do much, at this point; the duo's egos were probably as deflated as they possibly could have been, by now. There wasn't much left to hurt. Horror growled as he gained his motion and consciousness back, but Killer and Dust didn't think much of it; they knew what it was like, being dragged to this place unwillingly. Heck, Killer remembered Dust lashing out at him when he'd first been brought here! Though, lashing out was one thing.

Attacking the nearest person like a wild animal was something else.

Dust definitely hadn't been ready for the bulky skeleton who was twice his size to tackle him to the ground especially with Nightmare right there; why wouldn't he have attacked the gang's leader, if given the choice? Killer had been ready to pounce instantly to defend his friend, but Nightmare had acted quicker, wrapping a tentacle tightly around Horror's neck and slamming him viciously against one of the stone walls of the cell. With the crack that rang out alongside a cry of pain, Killer could safely assume that Horror wouldn't be able to full-body tackle anyone else for now. Letting out a groan, Dust sat up, clutching a shoulder; he'd be okay, since Nightmare wasn't hurrying to heal him.

"Don't fight amongst yourselves." Nightmare chided with an annoyed tone, as if he were speaking to unruly children. "I don't feel like replacing you yet."

With those words, Nightmare left again, but this time, Horror was awake. He was slightly dazed, but he could move, and he could talk. Well, probably. Killer decided to test that.

"Hey..good morning?" Killer greeted, cautiously; he was ready to pull a knife on this guy if he had to, though.

Horror growled. Could he talk?

"Can you move?" Killer decided to ask. "Would hate to have to drag you through the tour!"

..No verbal response again. Could he talk? Had Nightmare done something to him? Was there a spell to prevent skeletons from speaking but allow them to make other noises? It was oddly specific, but Killer had cause to wonder, with Nightmare.

"Can you talk?" Killer inquired. "If not, can you sign? I know a little - like, the bare minimum, but still some."

"Stop it." Horror spoke! So he could talk! However, Killer had no idea what he was talking about..

"Um..stop what?"

"Talkin'..like we're friends." Horror hissed, trying to push himself to his feet. "I ain't your friend."

Killer crossed his arms, frowning. "Well, like it or not, we're yours; you're stuck with us. Besides, you don't even know us yet - you might end up liking us!"

Horror finally got to his feet, and wow, he was tall! He towered over Killer; it was..actually kind of intimidating. "I know who you are: brother killers, just like your master! You ain't any better than he is!"

Dust winced at that, and due to Stage One, Killer couldn't suppress one of his own, either. So Horror had heard of them..knew who they were. He thought they were like Nightmare. Had they really become so well-known to the people of the multiverse? Did people think they liked working for Nightmare? Well, they must have; Horror did.

"I ain't workin' for that tyrant; I'm gettin' outta here the first chance I get." Horror stated. "Stay outta my way; I'll find my own bearings."

With that warning, Horror started to leave, albeit with a harsh limp. He moved slow, but it was clear that he didn't want any help; he would have fought it, even. With a sigh, Killer leaned against the bars of the cell; it was probably for the best, anyway.

"Hey." Killer called out, getting Horror to stop in his tracks for a moment. "You're on a time limit. You got maybe six months before he memorizes your magic signature - he does that, he'll find you anywhere you go. And do what you're told; you don't want to be injured if you're trying to run."

Killer wasn't sure if Horror would take his advice, but he hoped he would. As Horror limped off down the hall, Killer and Dust looked at eachother, before shrugging. It was probably for the best if they stayed away from him; he didn't want to be near them, and they didn't want him to get hurt..or attached. Yeah..it was best that he hated them, even if it was because of a misconception.

They couldn't have expected him to know, anyway.

This place must have been hell. The corridors seemed to stretch on for miles, and they all looked the same! And it was so empty. If he hadn't known for a fact that others lived here, he would have been convinced he was trapped here alone. But, of course, others did live here; he was constantly aware of it. Nightmare, Killer, and Dust - known as "Nightmare's gang" to the people of the multiverse. Truthfully, Horror didn't know much about the multiverse; he'd only learned what he knew from travelers with tales, ones who'd ended up in his universe for one reason or another. They'd never stayed long, but he'd learned enough to know that he wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible.

Maybe he should have taken up one of those offers to learn portal magic.

Horror had taken refuge in a room far from anyone else's, on a floor all to himself; he didn't want to be anywhere near those maniacs if he had the choice, and no one had assigned him a bedroom. Speaking of maniacs..he'd come to learn a little about them, in the two months he'd been here.

Killer was annoying. He talked too much - so much, in fact, that Horror sometimes thought he'd never shut up! He talked about one thing, then another, and then he'd talk for an hour more before circling back to the first topic, because they were all connected for some stupid reason! And then he'd keep talking! The only saving grace was the fact that he tended to frequent few places in the castle, and Horror could avoid him most of the time. But, of course, when Horror was forced to interact with him, it was never pleasant. Killer, on top of talking too much, loved to give Horror orders. He constantly told Horror to "just do what he was told" - as if! Horror wasn't stupid; he knew what Killer was doing. Killer wanted to mess with his mind - make him think that he was his friend. At least he'd given up on lying about a "time limit"on escaping this place; that had been getting annoying. It was just a ploy to get Horror to conform quicker, a way to get him used to following orders. Well, Horror wasn't going to be obeying any orders - none at all! Killer could talk himself to death, for all Horror cared; the world probably would have been better off without him - him and his weird obsession with knives.

Then there was Dust. In Horror's opinion, he was the more tolerable of Nightmare's lackeys; he didn't talk much. In fact, he was so quiet that Horror was sure the other had spied on him at some point. He didn't know exactly, but with the way Dust moved, acted, and spoke, he sometimes seemed as if he were a ghost - Horror wouldn't have been surprised if he secretly were one. But it was rare to see Dust alone; usually, he and Killer were inseparable - Killer's talking needed a listener, after all! At least he kept Killer away from Horror. Of course, that didn't excuse Dust from everything - far from it. Both Dust and Killer had murdered their own kin, their brothers! And they'd had no good reason; no reason was a good reason. Horror couldn't even look at them most days; all he saw was filth.

But those were just the lackeys, the pawns. Nightmare was worse - far worse. Nightmare had murdered Horror's brother, and he'd seemed proud of it, even! He was always happy to rub it in, and when Horror inevitably fought back, Nightmare punished him. Every time. At the slightest hint of rebellion, Nightmare would beat Horror senseless, just the same as he did the other two when they acted out; the only difference was that those two deserved it, while Horror didn't. Nightmare was trying to break him, but Horror wouldn't let that happen; he could get out of here, regardless of Killer's "warnings." He just had to figure out how to create a portal, which shouldn't have been too hard; both Killer and Dust could do it, which meant he could, too!

Speaking of making portals, that was one reason that made Horror content with the fact that he was making the right decision: Killer and Dust could make portals! If they really wanted to, they could have made a portal for Horror to use to leave, but they didn't! They didn't help him at all, actually! The most either of them had done was offer him food, and that was likely just a ploy to condition him into staying; he could see their tricks for what they were!

Even if they were tempting.

The castle had food to spare; it was hardly fair, when Horror's universe was practically devoid of it. Killer and Dust left once a week to raid other universes for food, and they always came back with plenty. It was really that easy; why couldn't Horror's home have been offered that luxury? Why had every traveler who had come and gone just..left? It wasn't fair - not when people like this could just take whatever they wanted from innocent people who'd done nothing wrong! But then, of course, it didn't end there - why would it? No, in addition to having the ability to get food whenever he wished, Killer also happened to cook. He and Dust frequented the kitchen, as if they didn't have anywhere else to hold their five-hour-long lectures about crickets and gemstones and the housing market! Why did they care about the housing market when they lived in a castle?! It was just..annoying. Horror hated getting food in this place; if he wasn't lucky, he'd have to suffer through the murderers' conversation, and really, it made him not want to eat at all. He'd survived starvation before; would a second round really be so bad if he could avoid those two?

..Yeah. It would. It really would, considering the fact that he'd just die if he didn't counteract the near-constant beatings and torture with some form of healing food. And he wasn't going to die here; he refused to die here! If he was going to die, it would be at home, where his brother had ended. So, reluctantly, he suffered the conversation, despite how he hated it.

"I think taking a ride in a hot air balloon would be fun!" Killer talked; he was always talking. "Seeing everything from way up high would be so cool! Plus, the physics behind it is just awesome; you're just floating in the sky, held up by fire and air, just you and the elements! And the feeling of danger, too - you scared of heights, Dusty? Mm, nah, didn't think so - me, neither. I think skydiving would be fun, too; having the air rush past you as you plummet to the ground must be thrilling! Ooh, ooh, how about skydiving from a hot air balloon? Twice the fun, twice the action! Well, as long as you bring a working parachute!" Killer giggled.

"Rather take my chances with the fall than be stuck in a basket with your constant blabbering." Horror scoffed, plating his finally-warm food; it had taken long enough.

Killer's rambling stopped at that, which rather pleased Horror - sweet silence. As he left the kitchen, he heard Dust's quiet voice for a moment before Killer started up again; it was a pity the guy couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than a minute at a time.

Unfortunately, there was one thing that Killer ended up being right about; Horror probably didn't have a chance of getting out of this place if he didn't go out on missions. The universe the castle was in was barren outside, with barely anything that could sustain animals, much less Horror if he tried to leave the castle. And as for portals...it was hard without guidance. He kept trying, but nothing happened, no matter what he thought of or how he focused his magic! If he thought of home, nothing happened; if he pictured his dying brother's face, nothing happened. If he willed his magic to whisk him away to somewhere - anywhere - safe, nothing happened! Killer and Dust could open the gateways with ease, but they wouldn't teach him; they were loyal to Nightmare, and they probably would have laughed in Horror's face if he asked them to teach him. Well, Killer would have, at least; Dust was probably too reserved to have bothered. But, despite that, after four months, Horror couldn't deny that he'd considered it more than once.

He'd been here for a third of a year, and yet nothing had changed. Well, not nothing: Killer had started talking less around Horror, which Horror saw as a victory. Heck, some days, the duo went out of their way to avoid him! It was nice, honestly; he didn't want to see them anyway. But..Nightmare still lurked. He always did, really, and Horror couldn't hope to rid himself of the scourge; Nightmare was the one who'd dragged him into this mess, after all.

Every morning, Nightmare came up to Horror with a task. It was always something simple, such as cleaning a room. If he didn't do it, Nightmare would punish him before letting him go to bed, and that would be it. He'd get healed in the morning when he received his next task to ignore. And for the past four months, that had been his life: ignoring orders and reaping the consequences. But, really, what did Nightmare expect? He'd killed Horror's kin; there was no way Horror would bend to his will, even if it hurt. If Nightmare really thought Horror would break, he had another thing coming; Horror had gone through hell in his world. From surviving in a famine to having his head cracked open like an egg, Horror wasn't a stranger to suffering. It wasn't as if he knew anything else; he really didn't, with his head injury stealing most of his good memories away. So Nightmare could play the long game, if he wanted; Horror would be right there with him, and he wouldn't break easily. Even if it made things harder, even if escaping would be easier if he gave a little slack and gained the "privilege" of leaving the castle to go on missions, he wasn't going to give an inch. He was going to get out of here without giving Nightmare one grain of satisfaction. Horror was nothing if not stubborn.

It took him eight months to make a portal. Eight months of constant suffering, but he was finally going to be free. He didn't know where the portal took him (he didn't recognize this place, but he knew it was part of Snowdin Forest), but it didn't matter; the trees were lush, and he could see native plants growing edible food. It wasn't home, but he'd get there soon; he couldn't let himself die anywhere else. He made a small campfire, gathered some berries, and let himself relax for the first time in ages. That night, he fell asleep feeling accomplished; he'd escaped. He slept by the slowly-dying campfire, the flames having sent him off to sleep.

He woke up in his room in the castle.

Wait, that wasn't right! He'd..he'd escaped! Had..had Nightmare found him? No, he couldn't have..there was no way. He must have dreamed up the escape and planned it for today, obviously. Right. He nodded to himself, lifting a hand and opening a portal; it came just as easily as..as he'd remembered from his dream that clearly hadn't actually happened. It was simple, but draining. He stepped through.

This time, Horror found himself in a Waterfall. He couldn't see anyone around - an isolated place in one, then. That was good; he didn't need to bother anyone. He wasn't as familiar with Waterfall as he would have liked to be, but he would make do with what life had given him; he always did. He spent the day exploring his near surroundings, finding the necessities: food, shelter, and water (that last one wasn't hard). He fell asleep in a makeshift shelter, his body thoroughly hidden under long grass that refused to betray his position.

He woke up in his room in the castle regardless.

Horror sat up in the bed (not his, never his! Nothing here was his!), looking around. Nightmare wasn't here, and neither were the murder duo. Surely, they knew. Surely, he wasn't sleep-portaling himself back here at night. No..they knew. The longing to be somewhere else settled too heavily in his bones for him to consider his own actions causing these consequences. For some reason, he wasn't being punished; he'd take it. He would take it, and he would leave again.

This time, he came out in a New Home. The town was filled with people, but none seemed too bothered by his presence; they must have known about the multiverse. Briefly, he felt lucky; he wasn't in Snowdin Town, which meant he wouldn't see..him. He'd barely had time to grieve; he didn't think he'd be able to face an altternate of his brother right now. He..hoped his dust would still be in the living room; he still had to spread it. His brother was waiting for him at home..waiting to be sent off properly. Horror owed him that much..and so much more, really.

Horror wandered the streets for..too long, probably. He didn't know where he was going; he wasn't good with big towns. For one thing, there was nothing to scavenge, and without money, he couldn't very well afford anything. And he wasn't going to steal it; he was better than those two lowlife versions of himself. It was fine; he'd gone hungry before.

"Oh, hello, there!" A voice called out - one he recognized, strangely enough; it wasn't exactly the same, but..it was so similar. "You must be a multiversal traveler, aren't you?"

Horror turned to face the voice, and..yeah, that had to be her: the woman behind the door (or Toriel, as he'd learned). He hadn't heard that voice in a long time - not since..he didn't want to think about it.

"You know about the multiverse?" He asked, instead.

"Oh. Um, yes!" The Toriel nodded. "Our universe is part of a big trade route, so we get many visitors! Are you new to the multiverse?"

"..Somewhat."

"Ah, well, that's okay! I am Queen Toriel of this universe, which is known as Underswap copy four. Can I help you with anything?"

Help. The one thing he really needed, but could she? Horror hadn't tried seeking help yet; would it make a difference? It was worth a try, wasn't it?

"I could...use a place to stay for the night." Horror admitted, keeping things vague; he doubted anyone would want to offer him their help if they knew who was after him. "Outta G, though."

"Oh, I see." The Toriel nodded. "I understand making portals can take a lot of energy, especially for those just first learning! Well, you can stay in the castle for the night; we have many rooms with few to occupy them, and it would be no trouble."

"Thanks. I'll be able to move on after getting some sleep; I'll be outta your fur by morning."

The Toriel chuckled. "At least stay for breakfast - I'd like to hear about your journeys, even if short."

"..I'll try." Horror nodded.

"That is all I ask. Come along, then; I'll show you to a place to rest your hea-" Toriel paused, taking a second glance at the giant hole in Horror's skull. "Y-your, um..tired body."

Horror smirked. "Ah, don't worry about it; it was a hole thing, but it's in the past now."

The Toriel smiled, nodding. "I see. Thank you."

The Toriel brought Horror to New Home's castle, and Horror had to admit that he much preferred this one to Nightmare's. The Toriel was nice, offering a form of kindness that Horror hadn't experienced in years. Food, too - she'd "happened to bake a pie today," and she offered Horror a slice; well, how could he refuse, with how nice she was being? It would have felt like a crime. He lay down in the bed he'd been offered, letting out a soft sigh. Things felt different this time; he felt hope for the future, hope that he would get back home soon. The kindness he'd been met with, as well as the bright atmosphere of this world..it practically promised something better. He was going to get home; he just knew it. He could feel hope surging through his soul as he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up in his room at the castle. Nightmare's castle. But the hope still remained, despite that. He got out of bed, standing up and-

There was a pile of dust on his floor. His soul clenched as he stared at the queenly clothing that lay around it, and before he could properly process anything, he was gone again, having practically thrown himself through a new portal to get away from it.

Nightmare had killed the Toriel who had so kindly taken Horror in.

And she wasn't the last.

Days passed - days and days of constant, repeated escapes, until it became weeks, and then months. If Horror asked for help, the remains of whoever took pity on him showed up in his room the next day. If he didn't, he would wake up in the castle to find everything (everyone) still there, just as he'd left it. If he tried not to sleep (Nightmare only took him when he slept), he would be granted extra time in whatever universe he ended up in, but he wouldn't have enough magic left to make another portal. He needed to sleep to regain his energy in any consistent way; food was good, but it would have drained him far quicker to run on food and nothing else. But when he slept, he was taken back.

Killer was right; Nightmare could track him. Nightmare knew exactly where he was, no matter what he did to hide.

He should have listened - should have gotten out sooner. Even if he got home, he would only have until he slept. His only goal now was to just get there, so he could send his brother off properly; if he could do that, he could die content. But he just..he had to get there.

He would get there, no matter how long it took.

Nightmare was furious; it was obvious. Killer hadn't seen the new guy in months, and Nightmare had revealed that it was because Horror had figured out how to make portals on his own. It was too late, since Nightmare had already gotten what he needed to track him, but Horror ran anyway. Honestly, Killer didn't mind it too much; since Horror obviously didn't like him, what was the point in caring? The guy was lucky he had the good fortune to never be around when Stages Three or Four took over, because he would have been dead if those two had anything to say about it. Nightmare probably wouldn't have even been too upset; he likely would have just replaced him with someone more pliant.

One day, about a year after Horror's first introduction to the castle, things came to a boil. Nightmare approached Killer and Dust, but he raised a hand to stop them from grabbing their weapons and preparing for a mission. He let out a curt exhale before speaking.

"I am going to place a claim upon this universe." Nightmare informed. "You two will leave with me, accept an invitation, and then return - it will be quick and simple, and I expect no arguments."

"This because of him?" Killer assumed.

"Who else? Now come."

Nightmare opened a portal, and Killer and Dust followed him through. Universe claims were something Killer didn't fully understand, with most of his experience with them being through the few universes Nightmare had conquered in the past. The people in them couldn't use their magic unless he allowed them, and he could alter some unique things in the universes, such as the colors of things and the current weather; that part was was interesting to watch, honestly. But Killer had a feeling that Nightmare just wanted to place restrictions upon his gang members - particularly, Horror. Nightmare had been banking on the repetition, psychological torment, and hopelessness to get to Horror, but they just hadn't; it seemed as if he planned to change things up.

"Killer, Dust, would you like to stay in my castle?" Nightmare invited.

Invitations were..unique. They were like signing a contract: accepting the terms and conditions of something (in this case, entering a specific universe), but unless one knew exactly what this power entailed, it was likely they didn't really know what they were signing up for. Killer didn't know everything about universe claims; he only knew that if he didn't accept the invitation, Nightmare would torture him until he did. Nightmare already had full control over him, anyway; it wasn't as if much would change for him or Dust..for now, anyway. He did wonder how Nightmare intended to get Horror to accept, though; invitations couldn't be accepted from inside the universe involved, due to the way the magic worked..or something? Killer wasn't sure about the specifics; he just knew that invitations didn't work when the person invited was already in the universe. Though, he did know one other thing: people who were native to a universe were bound by whoever claimed it by default. It wasn't really fair, he thought, but Nightmare certainly appreciated how much easier it made conquering those worlds. Maybe he would study it more sometime..

"Yeah." Killer accepted.

"Yes." Dust sighed, going along with it.

"Good." Nightmare nodded; it was done. "Go to the throne room; I will need you there momentarily."

"Yes, boss." Killer and Dust harmonized, returning to the castle.

The throne room was always too dark; it could have used some light. There were skylights, but Nightmare always kept them covered for some reason, apparently preferring just the candlelight for illumination purposes. Killer and Dust stood by one of the candlelit pillars, waiting for whatever Nightmare had planned. Soon enough, Nightmare entered the throne room, but he had company: Horror, who was tightly wrapped in one of Nightmare's tentacles. Nightmare wasted no time; he just started torturing the guy on the spot. It was obvious what he wanted now; after Nightmare was finished beating Horror, he would force Horror to accept an invitation in a less-than-coherent state, thereby subjecting him to Nightmare's total control, at least while in the castle. Killer couldn't figure out why he and Dust needed to be present for this, though; was it just so they could watch? Did Nightmare think they were as sadistic as he was? Well..Killer might have enjoyed it a little, but he didn't think Dust did.

Nightmare was brutal with Horror; he stabbed through his bones with his tentacles, threw him against every wall and pillar, and nearly choked him out again and again all the while. Killer just knew Horror's head was spinning; Killer's would have been. Blood splattered everywhere Horror made impact, and the only thing Killer could think about regarding it was whether or not he'd have to clean it up; blood was a pain. Horror could clean up his own blood, right? A few hours passed before Nightmare finally finished up with Horror, chuckling lowly as he lifted his battered, bloodied victim up by an arm. Horror's eyelight was flickering weakly, a sign that while he was barely holding on, he was still conscious, and he could accept an invitation. Nightmare disappeared with him, and a minute later, he returned, tossing Horror onto the floor.

"Take him to his room." Nightmare ordered.

"Yes, boss." Killer nodded.

Killer and Dust looked at eachother for a moment before Dust decided to do the honors, holding out a hand to lift Horror with blue magic. The limp body rose under the influence of the magic, and-

Horror fell, his body hitting the floor with a loud thud. Dust frowned, holding out his hand again to lift him, but his magic..refused. Killer tried next, but when he did, he found that his magic wasn't responding, either. So, naturally, the duo looked to Nightmare, who had an explanation for them.

"I believe you two have grown a bit..reliant on your magic." He grinned. "Take him up without it."

Oh, how Killer wanted to- "Yes..boss.."

"Good. I'll be in my office; don't disturb me."

Nightmare left, and Killer and Dust looked at the now-unconscious Horror with twin sighs. Well, this was it; what they'd feared so long ago was finally happening: they had to drag this giant unconscious skeleton through the castle!

"Come on, I think we can pull him by his arms." Killer believed, approaching Nightmare's victim.

Yeah, so this guy was heavy! Dust had decent strength for his size, but Horror was nearly twice his size, and he could barely budge him! Killer could do a little better, but he was mainly an agility and speed fighter, not a strongman! And of course Horror had picked a room on the third floor, which meant that the two would have to lug him up three sets of stairs; Killer sure hoped he liked hitting his head, because he wasn't going to protect him on the way up!

The trip to Horror's room was long and strenuous, and many bruises were gained - by Horror, of course, as Killer and Dust dragged him up the stairs. But eventually, the duo did get Horror to his room, and there they left him. They didn't bother putting him on his bed; they probably couldn't have lifted him that high anyway. They just set him on the floor, which was better than nothing..probably. There was a lot of dust and some corpses here, but it would probably be fine, as long as Horror didn't roll in his sleep. With that job done, Killer and Dust headed down to the kitchen; it was time to eat, and all that work had made them hungry.

Sometime during the following day, Nightmare healed Horror's injuries, and the tall skeleton realized his situation; he couldn't leave anymore. He was certainly upset about it when he showed up in the kitchen to grab some lunch; it was written all over his face.

"Hey." Killer decided to be civil; the other had been brutalized yesterday.. "Want a grilled cheese? They're yummy!"

"As if I'd trust your cooking." Horror was as amiable as ever. "Probably poisoned it. Burned, at least."

"Hey!" Killer glared. "I wouldn't waste food like that!"

"Just the fact that you two eat at all is a waste."

The kitchen fell silent. Killer couldn't help but notice Dust's flinch at the statement. He couldn't help but notice his own.

A waste? His survival - his existence - was a waste? And not just him, but Dust, too?

Part of him felt validated by it - the hopeless, broken part of him that wondered whether or not he could really get through another day of this life. It just reinforced what he'd thought for a while. He'd been struggling for nearly a decade; was the sliver of a chance at gaining his freedom really worth all this pain? And what if he never got that freedom? What then? Would he have existed for nothing? Was his purpose in life just to be a slave to a tyrant?

He glanced at Dust, and he could just tell from the look in his eyelights that he was thinking the same thing. Both of them had considered ending it all before; it was hard not to, in a place like this. But..they had eachother. They were both the main thing keeping the other going - the one who offered the strength to get up each day and suffer in hopes of one day grasping something better.

And Killer would be darned if he'd let this arrogant numbskull insult his lifeline like that.

"Okay, all right!" Killer pushed himself away from the counter he'd been leaning on, coming up to face Horror. "What is wrong with you? You think that just because you got nabbed from your home and your brother died, you can treat people like scum? Well, guess what: that ain't how life works, and I'm not gonna put up with it anymore! I've tried to be nice - even tried to help you, if you'd believe it, but you're too dense to understand!"

"I don't have to understand you." Horror scoffed. "You're a murderer, and that's all you'll ever be, the both of you: murderers."

"And you're not? Oh, I did some research on your AU; you've killed before! Don't act like you're a saint, when you've got more blood on your hands than-"

"I did what I had to do to survive!"

"So did we! You think you're the only one who's got it tough? Oh, boo hoo, you were captured and brought here - get over it!"

"My brother-"

"Your brother's dead; he's been dead for a year now! You think getting back to your world's gonna change that? Think you can really make things 'right' after so long?"

"You have no right to talk about him! You two killed your own kin; I didn't, and I'm gonna get back to him if it's the last thing I do!"

"And what are you gonna do, huh? Stare at year-old dust and wonder if it's him?"

Killer had less than a second to react before one of Horror's fists collided with his face. The force was so strong that it sent Killer back several feet, only to collide with the counter. He felt blood seeping from the wound..but it felt good. The tension was gone; there was no more pretense, no more false shadow of peace. There was just cold hard fact: they simply couldn't get along.

"Killer!" Dust shouted, moving to get up from his seat - but that wouldn't do.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Killer let out a little chuckle. "You just stay there a sec, Dusty; I'll be fine, eh?"

Against his better judgment, Dust stayed - good. This guy could hit like a tank; Killer didn't think Dust could take it, honestly. But Killer could - and would. He smirked as he wiped the blood from his face, before launching himself at Horror; he'd been hoping for something like this, despite his attempts to play nice! As Horror let out a growl, Killer chuckled, clenching his fists as he searched for any point that Nightmare might have neglected to heal. From his experience, the knees were usually always a little sore after heals; he went for Horror's as he avoided another crushing right hook, having been ready for that one. As predicted, Horror fell, but he didn't give up; he grabbed one of Killer's arms and dragged him down with him as he fell, and-

Oh, stars, this guy was strong!

It made sense, though. Nightmare already had agility, speed, stealth, and magic attackers; Horror had always been intended to be the missing strength component. He was certainly demonstrating that well right now as he tried to crush Killer's arm against the floor; it felt as if he were under a hydraulic press! But Killer wasn't helpless; he could get out of this! He twisted his body, taking advantage of his flexibility to-

To get flipped onto his back, apparently. Horror grabbed Killer's free shoulder while he was attempting to angle his body to force it free from Horror's grip, but he must have underestimated just how strong that was, since it didn't budge! Instead, when Horror slammed the smaller skeleton onto the floor, the force and angle snapped Killer's arm, nearly taking it clean off! Killer didn't have time to react to the pain, though; he had to defend himself, particularly from the fist Horror seemed to be looking to ram through his skull. Killer couldn't use his arms, but he had legs, and so he kicked Horror clean in the jaw, putting all the force he could behind the strike.

Horror barely flinched.

The fist came down, hurtling towards Killer's head, but it never ended up hitting him. Instead, a loud clunk rang out in the room, followed by a thud and a hiss of pain.

"Dust!" Killer exclaimed, trying to get over to his friend as Horror reeled from the pain of touching a heated pan.

The pan had been employed by Dust, who'd wanted to protect Killer, evidently, but Horror's punch had left a hefty dent in it, with a lot of the force ending up channeling into Dust instead. The short skeleton had been sent across the room - not great. Killer pulled the pan off his friend, wincing at the burn marks on his bones; he'd need new clothes, too, with these burned through. At least there wasn't a fire. Dust was unconscious, having hit his head against the hard wood of the cabinet he'd been flung into, but-

"Shoot!" Killer narrowly ducked under the pan he'd just tossed aside; it looked as if Horror had decided to use it as a weapon, now!

Well, two could play at that game. Killer used his unbroken arm to unsheathe a knife, breathing heavily as he pulled himself to his feet. Horror's hand was burnt fairly bad, but he still wasn't backing down..for some reason? Killer had always thought the guy was weird, but this was definitely psychopath behavior; what had Nightmare been thinking?

"What is going on down here?" Speak of the devil..

"He's insane, boss!" Killer dodged another swing from Horror, whose fight was by no means interrupted by Nightmare's appearance; Killer at least managed to counterattack with a stab, which did..absolutely nothing, apparently?!

To Killer's relief, Nightmare handled the situation. He grabbed Horror with a tentacle, squeezing him tight to the point that he couldn't struggle. The pan clattered onto the floor, and Killer received a scathing glare from his opponent, but at least this fight was over.

"What happened?" Nightmare demanded an answer.

"He started it!" Killer began, much to Horror's offense.

"You- mmph!" Horror was promptly gagged; Nightmare clearly didn't want to hear from him right now.

"Start from the very beginning, Killer." Nightmare ordered.

Killer nodded, letting out a sigh, and he started to recount the events. "I was making food, and I offered him some, and he got all sassy about it and started insulting us! Then I got mad, and we argued, and then he hit me!"

Nightmare rolled his eyelight. "So he provoked you, you let him provoke you, and you provoked him back?"

Killer crossed his arms; that was..basically how it had happened. "Yeah.."

"Why is Dust passed out on the floor, then?"

"Uh..he had me pinned, and Dust tried to defend me..which would have gone a lot better if we had the ability to use magic!"

"You talk to me like that one more time, and I will send you to the dungeon for a month, Killer."

Killer winced. Right..he was talking to the guy who could do that. "Sorry, boss.."

"Don't waste my time with apologies. So what I've gathered is that you two hate eachother?"

"..Is that a problem, boss?"

"No - not at all - but in the future, do keep your fights outside the castle; at least you can potentially cause collateral damage if you fight eachother in a populated area. But otherwise, I don't care; you three will clean this mess up, though - together, without fighting. I will heal you before your next mission."

With that, Nightmare let go of Horror, dropping him onto the floor. The moment he did, however, Horror lunged for Killer again, with the smaller skeleton barely dodging a tackle. Nightmare just scooped Horror back up with a sigh.

"On second thought, Horror will be spending the next two weeks in the dungeon; hopefully, that will straighten him out.." Nightmare decided.

Then Nightmare and Horror were gone. Killer let out a groan, looking down at his broken arm; he was lucky he hadn't lost it. He sat down next to Dust, sighing and leaning against a cabinet. He should have known Nightmare wouldn't do anything about the situation; all he wanted was negativity, and animosity among his gang members (was Horror really even a gang member?) produced plenty. He probably enjoyed the situation. But..Killer really didn't want to fight Horror again. The larger skeleton was strong, while Killer was remarkably average; he was great with knives, but he didn't really need physical strength to stab someone, since that was what a knife was designed to do! If Horror ever pinned him down like that again, preventing him from getting to his weapons while he couldn't use his magic...

He didn't want to know what would happen.

Horror had been forced to give an inch.

He couldn't leave the castle. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make a portal - or do anything with his magic! And after that fight, he'd realized Killer and Dust couldn't, either. Whatever had happened, it had happened the day before the fight, but he couldn't remember anything happening that day - other than being beaten, of course. But now, he couldn't leave on his own. If he wanted to get out of here, he would have to get himself sent out on missions. He didn't want to, but it wasn't as if he had to kill or hurt people; he just had to make a portal as soon as he got to wherever he was going. Or, if he couldn't, he would ask someone else to help him. It would be simple, once he got out of this castle.

So, a few days after he was allowed to leave the dungeon, he sacrificed a little dignity, and he did a stupid chore. It was the same one he'd gotten for a while, now: cleaning his room. The remains of those who had helped him still littered it, and he had to get rid of them. A few trash bags got the job done, but the smug smile Nightmare gave him when he realized he'd finally obeyed made him want to rip them open again.

He didn't.

The next day, Horror was tasked with lighting the torches in the dungeon in the morning - simple, done in ten minutes. He wondered how long this would go on. Next, he had to sweep the fourth floor's halls; that took longer, but he did it. At least the castle's other residents had stopped bothering him; he hadn't seen them since the fight, and he wasn't complaining!

After a week of doing as he was told, Horror got what he wanted. Nightmare showed up at his door the next morning, ordering him to follow him. The king led him to the throne room, where Killer and Dust were waiting; he didn't bother looking at them, stopping several feet away from them as Nightmare led him forward. He probably would have attacked, if he looked at them, and he had better things to do, such as escaping this hell. When Horror was somewhat lined up with Killer and Dust, Nightmare looked to him, before pulling out a metal ring. He didn't bother explaining; he just grabbed one of Horror's wrists with a tentacle and fastened the ring - the device - around Horror's wrist. He didn't say what it was, but Horror could guess.

"I suppose you two don't want to explain how missions work?" Nightmare glanced at the others, and after getting an answer, he looked back to Horror. "You will cause property damage by any means you desire, to any building you desire. Injure civilians all you wish, and kill if you want, but try to leave about eighty percent of them alive; I need most of them left alive to create negativity. Your main goal is to hurt them emotionally - understand?"

"..Sure."

Nightmare didn't like that response, but by this point, Horror had worn him down a little; he decided just to give a warning, despite his ego. "Learn some respect. Take this; it will be your weapon, since you have experience with similar tools."

Nightmare presented Horror with an axe, and Horror took it, looking at the sharp edge. It would have-

"Oh, for the love of- I know what you're thinking about! Don't use it on your teammates; use it on the civilians - now go!"

Before Horror could react, Nightmare pushed him through a portal, and he fell to the ground on the other side, finding himself in another universe; as he'd thought, he still couldn't access his magic. Killer, Dust, and Nightmare came through a moment later, getting to work. "Work" being tormenting innocent people and causing chaos, of course. Horror looked around, and after a moment, he started for an area that seemed rather secluded, hoping he would find someone who could help him there. So he waited, seeing nothing better to do; it wasn't as if he were going to actually attack the people of this world, after all! So he waited, and when someone inevitably tried to hide where he was, he asked for help.

The monster died in front of him before they could respond.

"You know, for the one who isn't supposed to have any determination, you certainly are the most stubborn of you three." Nightmare chuckled lowly, stepping around the corner of the building Horror was leaned against. "Horror..we need to have a chat."

"You don't scare me." Horror glared.

"No, I don't." Nightmare acknowledged. "And you are quite resistant to my efforts to make you afraid of me. But I've put too much time and far too many resources into you; I can't just kill you now. So..here's what's going to happen, hm? The mission's plans have changed; Killer and Dust are rounding up every monster in the Underground, and you are going to murder every single one of them. Are you going to do it willingly, or must I force you?"

Horror snarled. "You can't make me kill anyone! And I'm not going to murder anyone, either; I'm not like you, and I'm not like your lackeys!"

"You will be. And I can force you to kill those people - quite simply, really."

Horror frowned. "How?"

Nightmare grinned darkly. "Tell me..have you ever heard of forbidden magic?"

Forbidden magic. Of course Horror had heard of it; most people had at least heard of it! But people didn't use that magic; no one taught those methods..

But Nightmare did seem like the type of guy who would use it.

Horror gripped his new weapon tightly, and he approached Nightmare, looking down a bit. The king smirked at his obedience - at least, until Horror swung his axe at him with every ounce of force he could muster. When that happened, his goop reacted to the impact before returning to its original form, and he threw Horror against a wall.

"The hard way it is." Nightmare sighed. "Well, hold still."

Horror most certainly did not hold still, but Nightmare had likely expected that, judging from how fast he moved to restrain Horror. He began to cast a spell - Horror could feel the foreign magic flowing through him - and after a moment passed, it was done. Nightmare released Horror, and..he couldn't move. But he did. His body moved without his consent; he couldn't speak or stop it in any way. He..couldn't do anything. Killer and Dust had rounded up a good number of this Underground's population, something they were likely quite proficient in doing, considering their pasts. Before they could leave to get more hostages, Horror's body approached the current ones. He stared at them for a couple seconds before lifting his axe, and-

No.

No, no, no, no, no!

He was..he couldn't look away. He had to stop! Why couldn't he stop?! These were innocent people. They didn't deserve to be slaughtered.

"Woah..what did you do to him..?" Killer questioned, from behind him.

"I am controlling his body." Nightmare informed, briefly. "He is watching, and his emotions are delicious. Get more victims; I want him to reach LV twenty."

"Yes, boss."

Horror killed. He killed and killed and killed until he ran out of people to kill, and when more came, he killed them, too. They weren't quick; most of them were slow and painful, with Horror's axe chopping at people's bodies as if they were firewood until they simply couldn't hold on anymore. The dust was suffocating; he could feel it on every inch of his body, clinging to his bones and not letting him forget the reality of what he was doing. He was killing. He was..taking innocent lives. He felt dirty. As he gained LV, his bones burned greedily; for some reason, he felt as if it wanted more. It got more. As he murdered more and more innocent people, his LV rose, and he just couldn't stop, no matter how much he wanted to. As he reached fifteen, he was getting tired; his arms felt as if they were going to fall off, but he kept going. Just chopping away..over and over.

There weren't many people left when he reached twenty LV. Those that were left knew they were lucky to have survived as Nightmare released his control on Horror's body and Horror collapsed, blacking out.

Things changed after that day; they couldn't have stayed the same. Horror began suffering from LV spikes, bouts of pain caused by the LV in his system that nearly rivaled some sessions of Nightmare's torture. They were horrible; they sapped his strength when he had them, leaving him wanting to do nothing but rot in bed until the pain stopped. Nightmare made him work through them, though, just as Dust and Killer worked through their own. Nightmare, of course, didn't suffer LV spikes; he was lucky, as he always seemed to be.

The days started to become a bit of a blur after a while. On his third mission, Horror met the Star Sanses, two skeletons who fought Nightmare's gang regularly; they didn't seem to want to help Horror, only being offended by the fact he was there at all if anything. Horror did try to escape - he really did - but nothing ever worked. Every time he sought help, it was taken from him. He couldn't access his magic due to the magic suppressor, and even if he did somehow manage to open a portal and run, Nightmare would have just found him anyway. He'd learned how big the multiverse really was by now; there was no chance a random portal would lead to his home as he'd once hoped, and..there was no guarantee that his home even still existed, with the Destroyer of Worlds at play. His brother's dust was probably gone by now, too; no one would just leave monster dust sitting for over a year untouched.

It all just felt so hopeless.

After some time, people started running from Horror before he could beg them for help; he was recognized across the multiverse as a member of Nightmare's gang, the infamous band of..murderers. He was one now, wasn't he? Even if he didn't want to be, he was; he'd taken innocent life. It didn't matter that he hadn't done it willingly; he'd done it. He'd destroyed property, scarred people for life, and taken lives, just because Nightmare had told him to - because he was so tired of fighting. He couldn't feel the strength he'd had a few months ago..he didn't know where it had gone. He just followed orders. He was no better than Killer and Dust; they did the same things, and the multiverse saw them in the same way. When Horror had come onto the scene, he'd been lumped in with them, and people had been warned about him just the same as he'd once been warned about Killer and Dust. Those who were brave enough to stand up to him called him the same names he'd called them. He was a murderer, a psychopath, a villain.

He hadn't always been. He didn't want to be.

Couldn't they see how tired he was? Couldn't they see the pain he'd endured?

..They couldn't. They didn't know.

The castle was lonely. When he'd had a goal, he hadn't noticed it so much; now, the fact was all he could think about some days. It wasn't as if he hadn't asked for it. He'd tried to murder Dust and Killer on more than one occasion; of course they didn't want to be anywhere near him. But now, it..things were different.

Horror had never really paid attention to Killer and Dust before; maybe he should have. If he had, maybe he would have noticed how they acted when they were at the castle - how..normal they acted. They cooked food, made jokes, told stories, played games..they did everything they could to avoid being bored, because they were stuck in this castle, too. They couldn't leave whenever they wished; they were prisoners as much as Horror was. The only difference was that they had eachother; they refused to let it get to them. Horror had no one, because he'd pushed away the only ones who had tried to really help him.

Killer had warned him that first day about not taking too long to escape Nightmare, because he knew from experience that there was a point when an easy escape wouldn't be possible anymore. He'd tried to escape, and he'd failed; Dust probably had, too. Killer's chatter had annoyed Horror terribly before, but..he would have much preferred it to the silence he lived in now. Dust's habit of watching from the shadows had bothered him, but now, it would have been nice to know someone was there.

Stars, they'd given him every chance, and he'd shot it all down. He'd ruined it for himself, and now they wanted nothing to do with him. They walked the other way if they saw him coming, and they stopped conversations when he was nearby. Even during missions and supply runs, when they were forced to be near him, they always tried to split away from him as soon as possible. He'd scared them that day, he knew; they'd thought he'd been trying to kill them.

Well, he had been..

Truthfully, he wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him either, if he were them.

Why was he so stubborn? It had taken him being put through the same treatment for him to realize his mistakes, and now, there was no way to make things right. He really was a failure, wasn't he? He couldn't give his brother the sendoff he deserved, and he couldn't recognize people's real intentions until they were smacked right into his face a thousand times over - so much for being a good judge of character.

He couldn't even accept the consequences of his actions with the resigned shame he should have.

About a week ago, the Star Sanses had gained a new member, likely to combat Horror's presence and even the playing field a bit. Horror had fought him with Dust, and he'd practically felt the hatred that had been sent his way; Killer and Dust were a team, and he wasn't part of it. Dust had only done his part to avoid Nightmare's wrath. On the next mission, Horror had gotten the message, letting Dust and Killer do their thing together while he fought alone. Part of him had wanted to ask for help from his opponent, but..he just couldn't. Nothing good ever happened when he asked for help.

The last mission had taken place yesterday. It had been a normal mission, with Horror, Killer, and Dust spreading negativity for Nightmare; a fight with the Star Sanses had taken place, and Horror had fought Ink while Dust and Killer had taken Blue. Nothing notable had happened; nothing had changed. It just..he didn't know. The castle had felt even lonelier when he got back, and it hadn't gotten better. He'd ultimately decided to wander aimlessly around the castle, hoping something would change. It was a stupid hope, but he didn't have much to hold onto these days anyway. After a while, he'd come across the door to Dust's room; Killer and Dust were inside, based on what he could hear. He should have left, but..he didn't. He just stood outside, listening to something he couldn't be a part of.

"So you fold it like this?" Killer asked, likely receiving a silent answer from Dust. "Okay, think I've got it! Then just this, and this..wait..what? I did exactly what you did; why does yours look so much better?"

"Yours is good for a beginner." Dust's quiet voice encouraged. "You can get better with practice; don't worry."

"Not worrying, just..this stuff's harder than I thought it'd be.."

"It isn't for everyone. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"Nah, I'm fine; this is what makes you happy, so we'll do it, okay?"

"..Okay. Do you want to try making a bird now?"

"Sure - maybe this one won't fly right over my head!"

The duo laughed at the pun. They got along so well. Horror..wished he could have something like that. But he'd ruined it, and nothing would ever bring that chance back. He'd thoroughly blotted out every sliver of hope he'd had.

So why did he knock on the door?

"Yeah?" Killer opened the door, looking up at Horror. "What's boss want?"

Killer thought Nightmare had sent Horror here. Of course he did; it had happened before, and it was the only reason Horror had ever sought out Killer and Dust in the past. There wasn't any other reason Horror would have actually looked for them, after all.

Yet..he was here now.

Why? To provoke them again? No, he didn't want to do that; he had hurt them enough already! Why had he come here in the first place?! He was just hurting them more by forcing them to endure his presence! They didn't deserve this - not one bit! They deserved to have their quality time together as they always did, without having it interrupted by Horror! Couldn't he let them have that? Couldn't he just leave them alone and get over himself? He had tried his best to hurt them before, and now, the least he could do was do his best to stay away! But he couldn't, could he? He just couldn't manage to do even a single thing right! He was so stupid; he deserved to be a part of this gang, suffering for the rest of his life as the murderer he'd thought both Killer and Dust to be. He should have just walked away.

But he didn't walk away.

"..Dude?" Killer looked at him in confusion. "Are you..crying..?"

He was. He was crying, and before he could stop himself, words came tumbling out of his mouth without his consent.

"I-I'm sorry.." He spoke, his voice cracking as he began to sob. "I'm sorry!"

He fell to his knees, blabbering like a fool, but even so, he meant every word. He..he was sorry.

"I-I should've listened!" He cried. "I was wrong; y-you were right! I sh-should'n'a judged you, or har-rrassed ya like that! I'm s-sorry for hurtin' ya - f-for nearly killin' ya!"

The list of crimes went on. He kept apologizing, and Killer just stood there, utterly dumbfounded by what he was hearing. Dust came over at some point, just as confused as his teammate as he listened to the apology. Horror went on and on, to the point that he must have apologized for every single thing he'd done wrong at least twice. His tears had made a stain in the carpet, but he just couldn't stop; he'd kept his emotions inside him for so long that he'd forgotten they existed. And he didn't stop.

Not until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey..you don't.." Killer frowned, not really knowing what to say. "You.."

"Wanna join us?" Dust offered. "We're doing origami.."

Horror trembled, looking at the short skeleton. "O-ori..what?"

Killer let out a small chuckle. "Uh, paper folding. It's an art form Dust likes, and it's harder than it looks!"

"...Aren't you..mad at me..?"

Killer sighed. "Well, yeah - duh. You tried to kill us and stuff. But..everyone deserves a second chance, you know? Everybody makes mistakes - big ones, sometimes - but that doesn't make 'em all bad. We're not gonna forgive you just 'cause you cried and apologized, but..we'll give you another chance. Don't mess this one up, huh?"

Horror looked up at him for a moment, before nodding. "I won't."

"Then I think we'll get along fine! Now, how about that paper folding?"

Horror nodded again, giving Killer a small smile - his first in..

How long had it been since he'd last smiled?

"Cool, then come on - the studio awaits!" Killer held out a hand, and Horror tentatively took it.

The moment he did, he was dragged into the room.

That day had changed everything. Killer and Dust slowly began to welcome Horror into their..friend group? He spent more time with them as the days went on, going from ten-minute conversations to hours spent together. Horror learned a lot about Killer and Dust - more than he'd ever bothered to learn before. Killer loved cats, and he smuggled them out of dying universes to give them chances to live longer and better lives (they couldn't speak of that, though, since Nightmare would have murdered the felines if he found out about them). Killer was also four people. Horror..didn't know how he'd gone so long without realizing that; Killer had told him he was lucky he'd never been around when the more murderous "stages" had made their appearances, or else he would have certainly been killed - good to know? But Killer also loved baking, woodworking, and music (he could play a flute, although he didn't often due to Nightmare consistently breaking his instrument whenever he heard it).

Then there was Dust. The small skeleton might not have talked much, but he was so full of life! He liked origami (Horror didn't understand how, but he wouldn't judge), and he collected things. He fidgeted a lot, which was why Killer always carried around his woodworking tools; Dust appreciated tearing apart sticks, apparently! Dust also had brilliant control of his magic. Horror had known that, but he hadn't known just how skilled Dust was until he'd sparred with him for the first time, with Nightmare allowing only Dust use of his magic for the duration. Horror could take Killer and Dust in a battle without magic use, with his strength being his greatest..well, strength, but if Dust could use his magic? Horror didn't have a chance. The attacks flew through the air too fast for him to keep up with them, and that was why he was invited to spar with Killer and Dust often after that first session. When those two fought, though, it was a sight to behold; they knew eachother so well, avoiding eachother's attacks with grace and making the whoole ordeal look more like a dance than anything else!

And as Horror got to know Killer and Dust, they got to know him..and he got to know himself. He learned that, once he wasn't eating to survive in order to fulfill an ultimate goal, he really didn't eat as much as he should have; he just didn't consider it important. Well, food was important, but..it was reserved for those who deserved it. He didn't consider himself important enough to partake, because he didn't deserve it - and no, the irony was not lost on him. But then, Killer had invited him to cook a meal. It was a simple meal - spaghetti, using pre-made spaghetti sauce - but Horror had found himself fascinated by the process. The meal had been delicious, and it had inspired him to make something the next morning, but this time, by himself. He'd only ever really cooked meat before, back in his universe, but he hadn't had the chance to do so here, with Killer and Dust not gravitating toward getting ingredients for full meals on supply runs. Here, he'd just used the castle's microwave for anything that needed heating up, never actually cooking anything. But this morning, he'd made eggs and toast, offering his creation to Killer and Dust when they had wandered into the kitchen in the morning.

"Um..Horror?" Killer stared at the black mass on his plate. "Pardon me, but what is this?"

"Breakfast..?" Horror was concerned by that question. "Supposed to be eggs and toast.."

Killer took a long, deep breath as Dust seemed to be having a mental battle about whether or not eating the food was a valid risk. "No..this is charcoal. But, uh..thanks for the thought, big guy.."

"..Oh." Horror slumped; that wasn't exactly the most inspiring thing to hear regarding his creation.

"But that's okay!" Killer quickly backtracked. "Just means you're new at it! Would you like to try again? With help this time?"

Horror stared at the "charcoal." It made him feel a lot of things - like a failure, for one. It made him want to throw it across the room. He wanted to curl up in his bed and never get up again. But..he also wanted to get better at this; he wanted to be able to make something that people could enjoy - that Killer and Dust could enjoy! So, with a bit of hesitation, he nodded.

"All right!" Killer grinned, going to the fridge and taking out the carton of eggs. "Now, let's see you do better with this batch!"

With Killer helping him, he certainly did do better; the food didn't turn into charcoal. But Horror didn't really end up focusing on the food that much. He focused on Killer, who smiled as Horror put the stove on the right temperature and encouraged him when things didn't go perfectly; he focused on Dust, who snorted when the cap came off the pepper shaker and made an utter disaster out of the first good omelet Horror had ever made. He focused on how..good he felt as he followed Killer's instructions and managed to complete his task. He felt happy when Killer and Dust complimented his cooking, even though he hadn't done anything but follow orders. When Dust said he looked forward to seeing what else Horror had in store, he felt motivated, for once! When was the last time he'd felt motivated? He couldn't remember.

It felt good.

On the next supply run, Horror had picked up half a dozen cookbooks, and when the trio had gotten back to the castle, he'd practically begged Killer to help him figure out how to decipher them. Killer had just chuckled and asked which recipe he wanted to try first.

As time went on, Horror got closer to Dust and Killer, and the past was left where it belonged. Transgressions were forgiven, and true friendships were formed as Dust and Killer's duo became a trio. Nightmare hated it, but that was absolutely a good thing; all three of the gang members were happy to annoy their captor, after all! Horror may have had a lot of regrets, but if there was one thing he would never regret, it was knocking on Dust's door that day. Because of it, he'd gained the two best friends he believed he could ever have.

"So, you're saying an AU where bitties keep regular-sized people as pets can't exist because it 'doesn't make sense'?" Killer inquired, as he lit the match.

"People'd just step on them." Horror deadpanned, putting down his jerry can. "How do you keep something a hundred times your size as a pet?"

"Humans have pet elephants." Dust reminded.

"That's ridiculous." Horror didn't believe that for a second; there was no way a puny human could tame such a beast!

"It's the multiverse!" Killer reminded. "Anything that can happen will happen."

"Then how come there ain't a sunshine-y version of boss out there making people happy with a gang like us?"

"How do we know there isn't?" Killer countered. "Maybe there is, somewhere!"

Horror rolled his eyelight. "I doubt it."

Killer chuckled, tossing his match onto the building Horror had doused; it went up in flames in an instant. "You never know; it could happen someday!"

"All I know is that today, I'm gonna take a long bath; how do you deal with all this dust all the time?"

"You get used to it." Dust shrugged, small flakes coming off him as he did.

"Don't think I ever will."

"Well, hey, when you're done, do you want to try a new recipe?" Killer asked. "I found something I think you'll like."

"Sure. I should-" Horror was interrupted.

"Would you three quit chatting and start working?!" Nightmare wasn't happy; he rarely ever was. "Move!"

The trio didn't have to be told twice. Yeah, Nightmare wasn't happy that the three had become friends at all, having much preferred it when they'd been at odds. He thrived on negativity, after all, and friendship wasn't necessarily conducive to that need. He'd never be able to tear them apart, though; they'd already formed too strong a bond for that. Despite the daily hell Nightmare put them through, they could cling to eachother to stay afloat. And in the back of his mind, Horror knew one thing: even if Nightmare managed to turn them against eachother again, they'd probably still force themselves to be friends just to spite him. He might have controlled their lives, but he couldn't control them. They were a team, and nothing would ever change that now.

Not even a goopy octopus with a god complex.

~~~side story end woot~~~

Killer bean, Dust bean, and Horror bean become friends!

Thanks for reading my spiteful writing!

Bye!