From Murder to Dust

8 - Decorations

I woke to the face of Nightmare looming over me. It didn't bother me, since I wasn't afraid of him.

"Do you need something, or were you just going to watch me sleep?" I asked.

"I sensed that you were having a nightmare." Nightmare responded.

"Yeah?"

"You didn't seem afraid; that interests me."

"It's really not that interesting." 

"Do nightmares not affect you?"

"Depends on what you mean by affect." I sat up, stretching.

"Even I can wake up screaming from nightmares. Please explain how you don't."

"I just sleep through them. Nothing special."

"How?"

"I don't know." 

I honestly didn't feel like this was a worthy topic for conversation. I just happened to not be bothered by nightmares; there was nothing outrageous about that, was there? Plus, it was pretty much every night, and I didn't think the others would appreciate it if I burst into tears every night recalling the horrors I've committed; it just wasn't practical for me to be scared of nightmares when I'd been through it a million times before when I was awake. Nightmares were just another reminder of what we shouldn't have done, and if we let them hold us back, we'd never move forward.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Nightmare squinted.

"If I told you, it would imply that I knew." I pointed out, straightening my dusty jacket. I probably wasn't going to clean the dust off my jacket anytime soon; that would be like cleaning my friends and family out of my life.

"Then tell me something else."

"Yeah?"

"Why are there the remnants of dead monsters in your room?" He gestured towards the jars of dust on my dresser.

"Purely personal."

"Fine, I'll find out sooner or later; there's food in the dining room, if you're hungry. We're going to spend the day decorating both of your rooms; they both look drab and honestly, embarrassing. Living room, after the food is eaten."

"Got it."

He then left my admittedly bare room, leaving me and Papyrus to talk.

"Nightmare is very nice, don't you think, brother?" Papyrus complimented.

"Not as nice as you, bro." I returned.

"Well, that is true; I am the Great Papyrus, after all!"

"You're the best, Paps."

"Are you going to go eat? You must be hungry."

"Yeah, Paps; come on."

Paps and I moved through the hall, reciting the rooms by their doors in an attempt to memorize the location of each one. Paps was better, since he had more time to memorize the rooms, but I was learning a few. When we reached the end of the hall, I opened the door to the dining room and shut it behind me. Nightmare was seated at the head of the table, eating what appeared to be steak. I took a seat at the table, not caring where, and quietly joined his silent eating; Nightmare definitely liked silence, and it was his house, so I was inclined to oblige his silent wishes. To be honest, I preferred silence too - unless it was Papyrus. Papyrus was better than silence any day of the week. The silence did have a certain flair to it, especially in the dark. Silence was like that, I guess. It wasn't long before Killer entered the room and broke the silence, though; he obviously wasn't the silent type.