𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐥 | A Sanders Sides Reader Insert FanFic |

faint, yet so loud

faint, yet so loud

You don't dream often, and on the rare occasion you do, it's a collection of blurred sounds and colors that you can't quite put together. So, it surprised you at how aware you were of the placement of your feet and the nervous twist in your stomach as you stared into the darkness that engulfed you.

There was no sound at first, except for your nervous breathing, until you saw someone in the distance, their colors mixing and mingling in the dark, as if they didn't want you to see who it was.

"Ah..." you tried to speak, mouth opening, with only the start of a sentence sticking in your throat.

HELP...

The voice was soft, pleading, yet there was a sense of urgency that caused a wave of dread to fall over you.

FIND ME...

That voice... you knew that voice.

"Virgil...?" you squinted at the figure, taking a careful step forward, "Is that you?"

The colors shifted, delicately taking shape into your classmate, except there was something that felt off. You couldn't tell what it was, but even with the distance between you, he was noticeably... different.

"Hey, Virgil!" you called out, "What are–?" your voice caught in your throat as he suddenly appeared in front of you, causing you to stagger back and trip over your own feet, a faint curse escaping your lips at the painful collision.

Your eyes fell onto your classmate, mouth agape as if to scream, but no sound came out. Towering over you was a figure with a pale, almost reddish face, white foam seeped from its mouth, and its clothes were tattered. Maggots were squirming in various gaps on its face, exposing rotten flesh.

The smell–god the smell.

"W–who...?" your voice came out just barely a whisper, quivering under its lifeless stare.

( Y / N ),  F I N D  M E...

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You sucked in a sharp breath as you sat up in your bed, heart hammering in your chest, eyes frantically taking in your surroundings, "... a dream..." you quietly reassured yourself, swallowing thickly.

It was a dream... wasn't it?

"Of course it was," you muttered to the air around you, "But... still..." you glanced down at your hands that were clutching the comforter, unable to suppress a shudder at the smell that still seemed to linger in your nose, even after you'd woken up, It felt so real.

It had been about three months since Virgil disappeared, and for a lot of people, life had moved on. For others, for his grandparents, who you still saw hanging up missing persons posters during the weekend, it hadn't. Instead, they were trapped in the sorrow of knowing that their grandchild might never come back home, silently wishing to turn back time and make different choices that might have kept him around.

"You were his friend, weren't you?" his grandmother asked you one day, during your walk home, "Do you–did he tell you anything about where he is? Why he left?" she was near in tears, desperately clutching the posters to her chest.

Guilt slowly sank into the pit of your stomach, shifting your gaze off to the side, "No, ma'am, I'm... I'm sorry," you quietly replied, "I hadn't spoken to him since..." you trailed off, silently berating yourself for how little you could help her.

"Oh..." she murmured, "Well, if... if you remember anything, just, please let me know," she shuffled past you, suppressing a sob that so desperately wished to escape.