𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

IX.

Your past haunts you. You dream about it every night. All of the horrible things you did to those poor, poor people. 

You were like him once. You have no room to say that he was the monster in the story. 

You were infected with the same blood lust he was, and it was growing more everyday. What happened? Don't you miss that life? Don't you miss going out and murdering innocent people?

You gained the ability to heal quicker due to the lab work they did. You could've been so much more powerful. Why did you give that up?

Was it her?

***

"I...I'm...never making it out alive...am I?" 

"Mmm, not particularly. You've certainly filled out your end of the deal. If I killed you then the girl will be sad, and I don't like my prey all depressed." Dream tapped Wilbur's head as the brunette sobbed. Dream wanted to look at the blood drip down from his face so he bent down and pulled at his hair.

He felt his breath hitch for a moment as he saw Wilbur's wounds heal right in front of him. He let go of the man's hair and took a step back. 

"You...you're..." Dream started, feeling surprised. He was like him. He was just like him. He was hurting one of his own.

"Shut the fuck up. I'm not like you, not anymore." Wilbur sniffed, and Dream started putting the pieces together in his mind.

"You were sixteen. You...! You were supposedly dead!" 

"Well, I'm not. I left behind my murderous ways and I have never felt happier. They do experiments on us, they make us almost immortal. It's inhumane, don't you see that?" 

"I looked up to you when you first joined; you were merciless- you killed anyone who even dared cross your path. You were worse than I am." 

"Shut up! I'm not that monster anymore!" 

"Why?! Why did you leave?! We shared the same love for blood; we both wanted to see people we didn't even know crumble apart in our arms! What changed?" Wilbur remained silent, only glaring at Dream through his mask. Dream felt excited, and enraged at the same time. Why would he throw away a life at immortality and bloodshed?

Then he thought of something that made no sense to him, but he might as well ask. 

"Was it her?" 

Dream peered through the window of a car his boss lent him to capture Y/n. He was watching said girl walk home to get ready for her shift at the club tonight. She walked into her apartment and locked the door, though that didn't matter to Dream; he knew how to pick every lock.

He was curious of her now. What made one of the most brutal serial killers in the city leave his chance at immortality to be with a silly human girl? 

"Yes, it was."

"Why!? What's so special about her? What did she do?" Dream asked a lot of questions because in all honesty, he was confused. He couldn't wrap his mind around a lot of human emotions because he wasn't human. Not anymore. 

Him and the others he worked with were given drugs and serums that made their genetic code different from normal humans. His boss called them humanoids; they moved and breathed and talked like humans, but they were cut off from human emotions the more injections they got. 

"Fuck off. I'm not talking to a monster like you." Wilbur spat at Dream, to which he laughed. 

"You're still a monster just like me. Humans don't heal like we do, Sixteen." Dream smirked under his mask as Wilbur's face became angrier. 

"I'm different."

"How?"

"I feel things you never could." 

"Like what? Love? Is that what makes you different? Because you believe that you love the woman I plan on capturing?" 

"Yes." 

"You never answered me. What's so special about her?" 

"Find out for yourself, dickhead." Dream huffed in amusement at the nicknames Wilbur continued to call the assassin. 

"Maybe I will. Her fear is cute. Is that what you see in her?"

"No! I see so much more than her fear." 

"But that's what got you interested, isn't it?" 

"No, it wasn't." 

"Oh? Then what was it?" 

"Sir! Sir! Please stay with me!" Wilbur felt himself become colder and colder as the red liquid oozed out of his body. He knew he wouldn't die to this, though he wished he did. He hated the life he lived, but there was no escape from the never ending cycle of killing. 

There was a woman kneeling down next to him in the damp alleyway, and he wondered what she was doing. It was pouring down rain in the middle of the night; she just so happened to be passing by and saw the intense amount of blood seeping out of him. 

"I-I'll be fine, just go." he coughed out. The girl pulled something out of her now soaked purse; it was a phone. Wilbur's eyes widened and he grabbed it before throwing it into a puddle that was nearby.

"Sir, why did you do that?!"

"God, just shut up. Leave me be."

"No!" Wilbur would try to get the woman to leave, but no words would work on her. Eventually she convinced him to let her carry him to her car and take him to her apartment. Wilbur had mostly healed by then, but for some reason he didn't mind her taking care of him.

"Okay, you're soaking wet, but that's okay! I'll go get towels!" As Wilbur watched the h/c haired girl enter her bathroom he pulled up his mangled shirt, watching as the stab wound in his stomach heal right before his eyes. 

He was so tired. 

Before he knew it, he fell over and fell asleep on the couch, ignoring the girl's frantic cries. 

He woke up with a groan, stretching himself on the couch. The first thing he noticed was that at the end of the couch he laid upon was the girl sitting up, holding a towel. There was a blanket over himself indicating that she put it over him, and for the first time in years he found someone cute.

"It doesn't matter I suppose," Dream said. He pulled out some latex gloves and put them over his friends. "I wanna see how long your endurance is." 

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