LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

The moon was beautiful. It possessed a heavenly sort of beauty, one that Reverie had only ever seen in one other place. But Dream's eyes were no longer the safe haven that Reverie had once known them to be.

"The moon is beautiful," Wilbur said, echoing Reverie's thoughts. Breaking her mystified gaze away from the moon, Reverie looked at her best friend and smiled.

His hair was wet, matted to his forehead, and he had attempted to tame it with his beanie but to no avail. The stars reflected in his eyes and Reverie felt as though she was staring right into the heavens. The surface of the pond twinkled pacifically in the light of the moon and Reverie was at peace knowing that her brother was sleeping soundly inside the cottage that sat a few mere feet away by the edge of the water.

"It's a pity that peaceful moments like this are rare now," Reverie sighed heavily. "Nothing's been right ever since Schlatt got here."

Wilbur hummed thoughtfully. "I know what you mean."

Letting out a small breath of sardonic laughter, Reverie ran her hand through her hair.

"Honestly, if I had it in me, I'd just kill him," she joked. "I wish I could just take my sword and—"

She mimicked a stabbing motion and giggled, but proceeded to frown when her joke did not elicit any laughter from Wilbur. Instead, he smiled serenely at her—smiling with his lips but not his eyes, and Reverie felt goosebumps erupt on her skin.

"But you already did that, Reverie," Wilbur said. "Don't you remember?"

Utmost confusion muddling her thoughts, Reverie shook her head as an effort to clear her mind.

"That's—that's not true," she responded, but she herself sounded doubtful.

Against her own will, her eyes trailed downwards and, at what she saw, she opened her mouth to scream but found that no sound could escape.

"Will, you—you're bleeding," she stammered, an overwhelming feeling of nausea washing down upon her.

Wilbur's yellow sweater was stained with fresh blood and torn in the centre, right were a newly opened stab wound was positioned, pouring with hot red fluid.

"You killed me too," Wilbur said, his eerie smile unwavering. "You left me in there to die. You've got blood on your hands, Reverie."

Each breath she took was hasty and painful, her lungs burning as her body pumped with dread. Allowing her gaze to fall, she found herself staring down at her hands, which were covered in glowing scarlet blood, dripping into her lap.

"Don't you remember, Reverie?" Wilbur pressed. His voice sounded distant as Reverie's ears filled with an ominous humming sound.

Something began to rise to Reverie's throat, though she wasn't quite sure if it was horror or vomit, and she didn't know which one was worse. Blood pounding in her ears, her head began to spin, obscuring her vision in a haze of blurring motion.

Finally, she screamed, and the sound was deafening.

"Alright, don't scream the house down," someone chuckled.

Drenched in sweat, Reverie's shirt and her bedsheets clung to her body. She peeled her eyes open, only to be met with blinding light that she had to squint through.

"Wilbur?" she mumbled confusedly.

"Yeah, Rev, I'm right here."

A strong hand gripped Reverie's forearm and helped her to sit up. At long last, her vision cleared, and she could take in her surroundings. Techno was crouched by her bedside, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, and it was he who was grasping her arm and keeping her steady. Ghostbur hovered beside him, his head tilted and a frown etched onto his spectral face. Reverie's heart sank with disappointment. For a fraction of a second, she had been foolish enough to believe that it was really Wilbur who had been there when she awakened and not Ghostbur.