8. Losing Side

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They came at night.

Or at least what you perceived to be night since there were neither sun nor moon to dictate the time of day in the Void, a place where time neither began nor ended. Everything was the same in this world and it would always remain that way until time heaved its last breath and ceased from this mortal world.

Sleep was the vulnerability of man and monster. It was something that every living thing must perfrom in order to survive and sustain themselves. And you were doing this as well as every monster in your small band of survivors that had transversed miles in the Void for days on end. Preparations, plans, everything was futile, useless and wasted when you woke up with a start to find a knife pressed against your throat.

"Nightmare said this would be easy, but I thought that Ink's army would at least pose a fight?" The skeleton with the knife pressed against your throat surveyed the other skeletons amongst your group that were now just waking up, startled as their attackers threw them to their feet. "Then again, I wouldn't even call the lot of you an army. There's only what, six of you in total?"

"You're never going to win," Geno spat, struggling against his captor. The red scarf tied around his neck had now become his worst enemy, holding him in place as the skeleton that held a grip over him watched in amusement. "We're going to kill you, every last one of you is going to bleed for what you have done to the multiverse."

"Pity," the skeleton with the knife against your throat chided. "If only you had joined us, the ones with any real strength and numbers, maybe you wouldn't be dying today. But you are on the losing side my friend and there is nothing that we can do to help you. Nightmare's orders were clear, we've got to kill every last one of you."

"That's not very rad," Fresh piped in, his voice oddly calm whilst being in this situation. Purple flames crackled underneath his glasses, betraying the placated persona he pulled over himself. "Dust, you better high tail it out of this place or you're going to have a very unrad time."

Dust, the skeleton with the knife and red irises borderlined with blue, doubled over in a fit of hysteric laughter. The other skeletons in his charge joined in as well. "You really think you can win, that there's any hope for you and your friends? You have lost my brother and your death signifies the daybreak of a new era, a better time where the multiverse will no longer be dictated by you anomalies that call yourself its protectors. Nightmare is the true king and emperor of these worlds and all shall bow before him. Horror, bring me his head."

The skeleton whom you assumed to be Horror, a rather grim looking monster with a gaping hole on the left side of his skull with menacing red eyes that glared with an unknown fire and fury, reflecting madness that only years of deprivation and torture could manifest, took a step towards Fresh. You struggled against Dust's grasp and winced as the blade of the knife cut into your skin, helpless and hapless to do anything but watch. Error stared in blank retrospect as Horror lumbered to the PSA skeleton, his axe dragging menacingly behind him.

"You don't want to do this my axe amigo," Fresh growled, losing his once passive tone. The purple flames crackled from underneath his sunglasses and you for the first time felt afraid, not of Horror or Dust, but from the very skeleton you called your friend. "Because if you take one more funky step forward, you are not going to like the unfresh stuff that happens next."

Horror chuckled and shook his head. "And what can you do to stop me? You have no power here and you will never taste power again for you have reached the end of your line. Didn't you know that? Everything ends and your story is over. One head dog coming right up!" He called over his shoulder to Dust.

The axe swung up, gleaming as it caught the white glare of the Void and swung downwards, heading towards Fresh's neck. "Welp I tried my amigo," Fresh sighed and whipped around, his sunglasses falling off to reveal an upside-down purple heart emblazed in his right eye. His hands were alive with purple flame that caught Horror's axe in midswing, melting the weapon as it came into contact with the fire. This became the cue for the others to attack as you grabbed the knife in the height of Dust's distraction and turned his weapon on him, slicing at his cheek and then aiming for his chest.

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