The Pig, The Mask, and The Slayers [Indefinate Hiatus]

Vol 2 - 9: Private Lessons - Part 3

I am Speed.

Yes. Yes, I am.

I write super fast.

Two chapters in the same week... fuck.

Am I insane? No, but you sure as hell are.

-Linebreak-

He ran and ran, faster than he thought he ever could. Sweat poured down his face as his matted hair laid lazily atop his head, his crown lopsided as he brushed past people in the streets, the moon's light beating down on him. His green and red eyes darted from side to side, looking at faces that all shared the same expression on them, an expression that they harboured from simply looking at him.

Fear.

However, Ranboo cared less about what the people thought of him—as far as he was concerned what they thought of him was the least of his worries, of which that list housed many a thing.

His memories were returning to him, and each of them were more mortifying than the last. He finally understood the things that made no sense to him, and he finally understood why Dream didn't want him to remember anything.

If Tubbo or anyone he called his friends found out just what he had done, oh, the hatred they would feel towards him would be so grand, so spectacular, he wouldn't have cared about the words slung at him, because he deserved it.

He was a creature of The End, but not just any creature, no—compared to the Ender Dragon, the Ender Dragon was NOTHING but a FLY compared to his might. His presence. His sheer power.

For he was the Prince of the Ender, son of the feared Ender King, who was slain by the Dream Gods a millennial ago, though they paid the price in the form of the son of the Dream God's heart being torn asunder by the King of the End, Ranboo's father.

He was the reason why Dream was the way he was now. He, the one who the Dream Gods were most afraid of, he, who was the sole reason as to why Dream was heartless, and he who betrayed his friends time and time again, the excuse that he had amnesia and didn't remember most, if not anything at all coming in handy more than once.

But now, he could no longer rely on that excuse, not anymore. He had to face the consequences of his actions, and here was the perfect place to feel them.

He was, by every sense of the word, a monster, the son of a tyrant, and a Demon.

Ranboo's tie blew in the wind that was generated by his speed as each person who he passed looked like nothing but blurs to his eyes. While he wasn't moving faster than sound, mostly because in his limited form he couldn't, he was moving fast enough to generate enough wind to snuff out fires within candles and in street lights.

But no matter what, he had to keep running. If he was going to find Technoblade, The Blood God, he needed to act fast. He needed to stop him from doing whatever it was he was going to do. That is, of course, if he already wasn't too late.

He could sense his presence in this world, along with Dreams. This was where they ended up, and it was all for a purpose.

The Dream Isles were the equivalent to Heaven, created by the Dream Gods to put souls to rest, and or to contain those who had become far too dangerous. Creatures like him, Technoblade, and Dream were put there to be monitored by Dream XD, and the rest were put there simply to indulge themselves in ignorant bliss.