Uninvited

Chapter Nine|Meal

Chapter TW, Talks of Child Abuse

Dream couldn't describe what he felt as hunger pains, because for him, that's really not what it was.

For humans, it takes weeks of going hungry before they start to deteriorate. For him, all it took was two days, and he didn't deteriorate in the same way humans did.

Slobber was dripping from Dreams mouth, and he had to fight the urge to run on all fours to the nearest dream available. His claws were getting longer than he liked, but they did help him scale the wall into a teenager's bedroom.

When he gets hungry, he gets animalistic.

The bedroom was painted a dark green, and the person sleeping there seemed to really like skulls and action movies, judging by the posters and figurines. He seemed like a bit of a douche. Scars on his knuckles, misshapen nose, probably from being broken.

But at least he'd get to know this kid Better by the end of the hour.

With that thought, he dove into the kid's dreamscape.

Everyone's mind was different in some way. This boy wasn't dreaming yet, so it was just pitch black visually. But he could still smell and feel.

The place smelled like blood, with a hint of freshly baked pie, or cobbler. It smelled like peaches if you tried hard enough to think about it. If you could smell it through the blood.

It was cold. The type of cold that would make a human's teeth chatter and lips crack open and bleed. It wasn't humid, in fact, bone dry. This is the first time Dream's smelled blood without humidity.

If he had to guess about this kid, his dad abused his mom. He was guilty about it. He thinks about it all the time. That's the reason the blood smells so strongly.

The smell of cobbler. It was probably his love for his mom. It was drowning in his guilt.

Dream took a deep breath, his mouth open this time. The air tasted like smoke and spice.

But it didn't smell like alcohol.

Dream felt a growl in the back of his throat. This dad didn't even hit his wife because he was drunk. He didn't even have an excuse.

If he had to guess, the kid was probably a smoker. A parent probably rubbed off on him, Dream couldn't tell which one.

The kid was a douchebag. The taste of spice is usually the taste of aggression. Honestly, Dream couldn't blame him.

He hated that being here made him hungry when it should make him feel sick.

He wandered for a while, in the darkness. It felt like he was walking on hardwood floors. He didn't get anything else from it, so he just took a deep breath, and started his work.

He was in full demon form. He shoved his claws into his upper arm, not being able to feel anything as he splashed his glowing green blood on the ground, watching it slowly grow, covering the ground and forming into a room. He didn't understand it until he saw tile floors. He was in a kitchen.

It had peeling pastel wallpaper and smelled like cleaner and moss. But there's still a tint of blood.

He took a deep breath and summoned the kid into the nightmare. He walked into the shadows of the room to watch how it would play out.

The kid walked in through the front door. He was wearing a suit and tie. Dream could taste the kid's confusion, and it made his mouth water as the fifteen-year-old reached up to loosen his tie.

Dream didn't flinch as he watched a woman, probably the mom, materialize in the kitchen and rush to the front door.

"Welcome home honey, how was work?" The fidgeting woman asked. She looked afraid.

"It was shitty." The boy said, taking off his shoes and throwing them aggressively into the ground. Dream felt the boy's shock run through his own veins like liquid adrenaline.

"That isn't my voice. That's- why do I have dad's voice?"

The mom flinched away from the loud sound, and the boy's body language showed rage, but dream almost groaned in relief as he tasted the first hint of it.

Fear. It was hot and wet on his tongue, and immensely satisfying to his stomach.

"Why are you always afraid of me!?" Yelled the voice, and the kid raised his shoulders in an aggressive display.

"No! Stop!"

Dream was hungry, and the more he ate, the more he wanted. He burried his self hate deep, continuing to feed.

TW, Nightmare Violence, Nightmare Death

"You know what, I'll give you something to be afraid of, skank." The boy said, grabbing the woman by the arm in a probably bruising grip. The woman's eyes were wide with fear, but it didn't compare to the fear the kid felt.

Dream watched as he beat his own mother. Dream heard the boy's thoughts screaming desperately as his mom bled and bruised, but the man who's body he was inhabiting was getting angrier and angrier the more the woman tried to fight back against the assault.

Dream watched every fist land. He watched every deep scratch on the woman's body. He smelled the stench of her blood on the air.

He also felt his hunger being relieved.

Dream kept eating, and the kid kept weeping, and his body kept punching.

It reached a crescendo of morbidity as he slammed his own mom's head against the floor. Once. Twice. And then she went limp.

The kid absolutely screamed.

Dream watched as the boy dropped to his knees, crying as his body was finally his own.

It was then that Dream left. Staying there would have been disrespectful.

As if being there at all wasn't already.

TW over

When Dream got back, he felt more human. As he crawled out of the kid's window and plopped onto the ground without making a sound, he felt more like himself.

But at what cost, you might ask?

The cost was wanting to tear himself apart from the inside out until there was nothing left.

An

More fanart!! This one is by ScubyTheGreat1!! I absolutely love the pose, and how cute their art style makes the boi™.

They're zoeybutworse on insta!! I love their art, please go give them a look!

Anyways, as always, love you guys 💕💞