Eudaimonia (monster!Dream x GeorgeNotFound)

Chapter 1

(A/N): WHOOOOO AN UPDATE SARINNA ARE YOU PROUD OF ME?

-

Clay woke up. With a yawn and a stretch, he cracked open his eyes...

To see an almost blinding white light. He rolled over with a groan and buried his face in his pillow to try and avoid the brightness.

Finally, after a few minutes of just lying there, Clay finally got out of bed. Walking over to the solitary sink in his room, he splashed cold water on his face to wake his senses up and brushed his teeth with the ratty little toothbrush which barely had any bristles anyway.

This was his standard morning routine. Get out of bed, clean yourself up and then wait for the dreaded interview that came later.

It wasn't that the interview itself was bad, it was just... boring. Monotonous.

No, it was the person conducting the interview. Someone he used to know and care about dearly. Aka Kanzaki.

Clay didn't hate her. Their past together, the memories they shared went too far back and ran too deep inside him for the American boy to ever have such a simple feeling as hate for the Japanese girl. But they had both grown up, her now a grown woman, learned and graduated in science, and he was just... a monster. A killer. Now, after three years of just thinking, pondering on what he'd done in this blank, white, sterile prison cell... he was sure that Aka hated him, as simple as that.

It was his fault. All his fault. Every time Clay saw Aka, which was every day now, the same feelings of guilt haunted him.

Clay could still vividly remember the day his world fell apart.

Sighing, he dragged himself out of his melancholy train of thought and sat down on the white bed. White, just like everything else in the room. Well, except for the toothbrush, which was a faded shade of green. The only speck of colour in the room.

Waiting for the dreaded interview. 

You would have thought, that after three years, he would have gotten over it. But every time Clay closed his eyes, the memories of that bright, cold autumn day stained permanently with blood struck him, fresh and new as though it happened yesterday. The pain still festering in his heart like an infected wound left untreated.

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. 

"Come in, red." He called tiredly. Her old nickname. The American boy wasn't sure whether he could still use that name, yet he used it every time he saw her. Old habits die hard, after all.

But the person who opened the door wasn't Aka.

-

"Okay, so do not listen if he asks you to do something, even if it's something trivial, do not take off his mask and do not tell him anything about both this facility and yourself."

George nodded, dumbfounded. Surely something, or rather, someone couldn't be this dangerous. 

"Wait, why can't I take off his mask? And why can't I tell him anything?" he asked, curious to the extent of the danger that the test subject posed.