~ 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ~ {𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓}

Chapter 8: Truly Interesting

Chest heaving, you held your arms in the same position as they had been when the double doors were slammed open. Your (E/C) eyes darted around the dark room, then landed on Nightmare. You almost growled at the indifference he was showing at your little entrance.

"Ah ah, (N/N)," he chortled cooly, waving a finger like he was a mother scolding her child. "You really shouldn't go around slamming doors like that. It really is quite rude."

You took a few moments to catch your short breath. The king watched you stalk towards his throne, eye scanning your form for excess weaponry. Yes. Just to make sure they didn't have any more weapons. Just that.

"You," your voice began, then cut off as you gasped another breath. Why did the library have to be so far away?? "I need some—gasp—words from you."

Nightmare raised an invisible eyebrow. Then a sudden throng of panic flashed through him: what if you found out? What if you had put two and two together and uncovered his lies?

However, to his relief, you only pointed an accusing finger at him and queried, "Th-The ripped page. What the hell was that?"

Nightmare flinched, unprepared for the question. He hadn't bet on you asking, or even paying attention to the page. There was a reason why he didn't want you looking in that book. There was a reason why he didn't let anyone look in that book.

Perhaps he really was too afraid. Perhaps Nightmare was a coward. Perhaps he was trying to simply push down something, drown out something that he had sworn to never let resurface again.

Perhaps he was mad with a feeling that he couldn't quite identify.

"Hey," you snapped, (E/C) eyes cold and demanding. It was a foreign feeling, the harshness you were displaying. It chilled both you and Nightmare to the bone. "You still there? I came for answers and I sure as hell am going to get them."

As you drew a knife from your hoodie's pocket, Nightmare stifled a laugh. There was no way you could ever hope to beat him, especially with a knife, unless—

He nearly choked.

Unless... Unless you had learned something that he hadn't. Unless you knew something he didn't. But that was absolutely ridiculous. He knew every spell, every curse. Even the Whispering Spell, a forbidden and eternally scarring.

Despite his morbid thoughts, you simply pointed the sharp tip at the king and drew your mouth into a thin line. "Answers," You snarled. "Now."

The corrupt ruler suddenly found himself drowning in an icy pool of water—or maybe it wasn't water. Whatever it was, it suffocated him. His world was filled with two voices, one recognizable, the other... familiar.

Help them. It won't hurt. No. They can't do anything to you. They have no idea what I can do to them. Would you? What? Would you do 'anything' to them? I have no idea what you're talking about. Yes. Yes, you do. You wouldn't hurt them if you could. Shut up. You feel something for them, don't you? SHUT UP. You want to protect them, don't you?? SHUT UP!!

With a sigh, Nightmare leaned back further, tired with an unknown exhaustion. "Fine," he muttered, rubbing his temples yet again. It was an adorable habit, you thought—what? Adorable? "I'll try my best. I can't promise anything, though."

You heard the (surprisingly already) familiar sound of a chair forming behind you; a slosh like sound that was between the noise of bones shifting and tendons breaking. You sat down on the inky chair, propping up an arm to rest your head on.