Midnight Arson (Platonic! Ranboo x Tubbo)

Chapter 6: Wilbur

The low, monotonous hum of the transport platform greeted Dream's ears over the usual silence. A visitor, but who? The mastermind wasn't expecting any guests today, but then again, the insolence of the server's inhabitants never ceased to amaze him. Who dared beg for an audience with him? Did they not know who he was, what he was capable of?

The grating sound of metal meeting obsidian woke Dream from his thoughts, bringing his attention back to the present. A pair of footsteps echoed off the walls of the jail cell, announcing the arrival of Dream's visitor. After a moment's pause, the stranger revealed their identity: "Hello, Dream."

The criminal turned to stare down at the man before him, a wicked smirk crossing his features. "Wilbur Soot," he sneered. "What brings you here?"

The British man met the diabolic demeanor of the masked criminal head on, his eyes lowering into a malevolent glare of his own. "I'm here to repay my debt," Wilbur replied, "for bringing me back to life."

"Ah, yes, how could I forget?" Dream responded with a taunting lilt. "The day I revived you and brought you back from hell."

By the looks of it, Wilbur hadn't yet adjusted back to normal life. The man was clothed in the same rags he'd died in all those months ago. His habit of resisting change left him in dirty, outdated earth tones and a stained, smelly trench coat. Dream surmised that the failed president still clung to shreds of his past life, a once glorious revolutionary turned insane conspirator. The criminal thought the time Wilbur had spent in limbo would have rid him of such foolhardy notions. Then again, the Brit's consistent mentality could prove to benefit the masked mastermind; it would be much easier to manipulate the man if he still fostered the same psyche.

Unaware of the trap being set, Wilbur nodded in agreement. "Yes- the day I was reborn, thanks to you." The Brit raised his arms in an open gesture and began to orate. "Dream, let me be your vassal. I wish nothing but to serve you for the gift you have bestowed upon me. Do with me as you will."

The criminal's lips curled into a truly sinister grin. "Alright, then." A black smoke leaked out from behind Dream's mask, creating a thick, cloud of smog in the room. It oozed into the air around him, stretching into what appeared to be a shadow being. The creature pulled the ends of its ghoulish form out from Dream, and left his body to crumple to the floor.

Wilbur went rigid, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped- he had made a mistake, a grave mistake. "Be careful what you wish for, Wilbur," the faceless demon hissed. Wilbur wanted to run, he wanted to hide, but there was no escape. The creature rushed the former leader, reaching for its new host with long, clawed fingers. Wilbur let out a scream in terror, but it was too late.

The demon plunged itself into the depths of the man's being, rewiring his consciousness to meet its own deadly ends. Wilbur tried to shake the monster out of his head, but its power was too great. His mind began to slip, his thoughts melding with the foreign entity in his body. The Brit gave out one last yell in pain, and then he was gone.

There, in his place stood a man of pure evil. His almond brown eyes were lit with a dangerous smile, a trait common amongst killer psychopaths. The man flexed his fingers, as if testing the limits of his new body. Yes, this one would do just fine. The new Wilbur turned to give Sam the return signal, and laughed under his breath. The road to greatness was long, but the path to destruction was much more fun; he'd see to it that, with his plan in place, he'd have a little bit of both.

Oooooh what will Possessedbur do next?? Only one way to find out!

Vote to call the dreamon hunters!!

Thank you all for the reads, even while this story was on a small hiatus. I really appreciate it. :)

[Image Credits] "Faceless" (Cropped Slightly) by Phillip W (https://www.flickr.com/photos/10678636@N02/2199651572)