One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Stray

DRUMROLL PLEASE!! 

vichiicatt, you have waited a very long time for this. i'm deeply sorry for the long wait, but i'm very happy to tell you that not only have i finished it, but i have decided to make this into a series!! that's right! you get more than just one chapter :DDD

NOT ONLY THAT! BUT!! THIS CHAPTER, THIS FIRST CHAPTER OF THE STRAY SERIES

IS 11,200+ WORDS LONG.

i sincerely hope you enjoy the story, i hope the wait turns out to have been worth it :]

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Nightmare had been promised a good deal. The pet store employee had insisted that the lifeless cat-skeleton monster at the end of the hall would be the perfect choice. "He's as obedient as a soldier, well trained and behaved. He's a bit of a shy kitten, at first, but he'll warm up to you in no time."

The dead, cold assessment in the 'shy kitten's' eyes said otherwise. The employee rambled on behind Nightmare, chattering about pet care and other pointless subjects, all of which Nightmare ignored. He cut them off, monotone. "What's his name." The employee's expression lit up with relief. "He was named Sans by his-"

"What is his name." Nightmare said again. The man faltered. "Sir, I was already-" He shut his mouth, falling silent at the glare Nightmare sent him. "Can he hear us." The employee nodded quickly, going to speak, but Nightmare looked back at the feline inside the cage. "What is your name."

"He can't understand you-" Nightmare held up a hand and the employee went silent, cowed. Nightmare jerked his chin up, "Tell me."

Slowly, quietly, the skeleton answered, "..My name is Cross." Suspicion practically dripped from his voice, not a hint of trust anywhere to be found. That could be easily worked around. Nightmare hummed, and snapped at the employee, scowling. "Open the cage. I'm taking him with me."

The man fumbled with his keys, quick to shove the right one into the door and turn it sharply. He yanked the door open, stepping back with his hands up. Nightmare sneered, his tentacles snaking towards the human. "Your assistance," the human choked, a tentacle coiling around his throat, lifting him from the floor, "is no longer required." The employee's neck snapped, and his head lolled back.

Nightmare left the dead body to fall to the floor, pulling his eyes back to his trophy. Cross was on his feet, his hands fisted and eyes wide, ears up and body stiff. "Why'd you-" Nightmare scoffed, stepping into the open cage to inspect the other. "The bastard had it coming. Silence yourself. You are in no position to question me."

Irritation sparked in Cross's eyes, the pupils shrinking into a thin line. "..What do you want from me." Nightmare tipped his head to the side, amused. Animal, indeed. "I am in search of a new. Companion," Cross's ears flicked back at that, "And not just any." Nightmare took a casual step closer, "I have requirements . I want you to show me how flexible you are." He looped a tendril around Cross's wrist, manipulating the limb and moving it as he pleased. "Your range of motion. How quickly can you move? How soft are your footsteps?" He dropped his voice into a hushed whisper, a grin pulling at his teeth as Cross's ear's twisted slightly. "How well can you hear?"

Nightmare took Cross's hand into his own, pressing his thumb into the claws, intending on milking the theatrics further. "How-" He paused, his little dramatic scene cut short as he felt over the blunt fingertips of Cross's hands. The urge to smile fled, a frown taking over Nightmare's expression. Cross's fingers were supposed to be claws. Sharp claws, not this . His frown deepened. Blunted. Filed down .

Nightmare's gaze trailed up Cross's arm, every bit of damage suddenly registering. Chalky bones, dry to the touch and rough, chips and dents sprinkling the surface. Malnourishment, possibly injured from playing too rough. Nightmare's eyelight flicked up to Cross's ears. One torn and speckled with circular scars, the other half-covered with dark scar tissue. Burned, or bitten. Abused? He grit his teeth, turning Cross's hand over, searching the limb for any signs of restrainment or further abuse. He found more dotted scars, his eye twitching with distaste. More burns. Cigars, no doubt.