My Friend Over the Phone

Chapter 30

A/N: Sorry this is shorter and more boring than usual, writer's block strikes again :')

    It was empty.

    He slowly returned to consciousness, and rubbed the back of his skull as he winced at the pain it gave him. Light headaches weren't exactly uncommon for him, but this one was particularly painful.

    He didn't wake up in his bed, though. He was in a white, empty space, that looked all too much like Error's Anti-Void.

    "Error?" He called, wondering if he did in fact find his way there. There was nothing as far as he could see. "Hello? Anybody??" He tried teleporting back home, but nothing happened. He couldn't summon magic at all. Something weird was going on. Was this some sort of strange dream?

    Horror picked a random direction, and began walking, hoping that maybe he'd run into someone.

    Dream was still gone. Nightmare was beginning to get worried about him. He almost dropped his phone getting it out of his pocket when it vibrated, thinking it was Dream. Instead, it was Dust. He texted something to their group chat.

Dust: "Have any of you guys seen Horror? I cant find him"

*Killer is typing...*

Killer: "did u try to call him"

Dust: "five times"

Dust: "no answer"

Dust: "he never does this"

    Nightmare stared blankly at the screen. They just discussed the horrid fates many Universes are coming to. What if Horror..?

    Oh Destiny, save us now.

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    Ink stared at Horrortale #47 from the outside, watching it crumble into pieces. The great thing about it being destroyed is that it didn't delete much, because half the unimportant characters die before Aliza even falls into the Underground, making it lighter with less code.

    He heard that voice plead for him to create again. It could be his inner self, reminding him how wrong it was to let everyone die like this. And perhaps it was wrong. Well, it's too late now. His emotions are gone, and there's nothing he could do about it.

    Well...

    Actually, there was. Maybe he let this go on long enough.

    ...

    Whatever. He'll stop it when he feels like it. This Multiverse was getting bland, so maybe he'll wait until almost everything is gone and start over.

    Creation wasn't even his job. It was the Creators' job. And they didn't have anything interesting to put out there. It's like some kind of depression was going on in their world. Or maybe they used up every good idea they could come up with. Either way, it would all be gone soon. He would've been sad if he didn't...

    Oh god, why did he do that?

    He was already feeling withdrawal from not taking his paints. He almost missed his vials.

                                                     "create"

                   "create"                  "create"

         "create"                                     "create"
                       "create"
                                           "create"

               "create"

    No.

◽️◼️◽️◼️◽️

    "Where is that bastard!?!"

    "Brother, wait!"

    Dream grabbed Nightmare's shoulders from behind in a futile attempt to keep him still during his outburst. He hasn't seen him this angry since he first ate all those Dark Apples..

    He had told his brother rather frantically about what he found at Ink's home, then Nightmare suddenly assumed he was the one behind this possible apocalypse, and is now bursting through the more intact Universes trying to hunt him down.

    Strings suddenly wrapped around the small angry skeleton, leaving him hanging in the air. "Think for a minute, Nightmare." Error said, puffing a little from running after them. "Why would Ink suddenly want to destroy everything he's been protecting from us?? That would be centuries of hard work gone! And for what?" Nightmare stopped struggling, and sighed. "He is a sociopath, you know. He could be doing this as some sick game, like he did with the X-Event." Cross looked down, nervously rubbing his arm as he remembered that awful experience that he started. "Damn, Nightmare has no chill sometimes," XChara muttered.

    "Yeah, but think about it! He only destroyed a small fraction of everything! This is so much bigger than that! About half the Universes are gone now, including some of the originals!" Dream nodded, finally formulating a plan in his head. "But I do agree with having to find Ink. He may know what's going on. We should help him fix this." Error groaned, already hating the mere idea of working with Ink, but nodded anyway. He looked over to Blue, who was looking down and twiddling his fingers. Why was he nervous? He used to talk to Ink all the time!

    Nightmare agreed, but everyone could tell he still wanted to chop the head off of that soulless artist. "Can you put me down now?" Error snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh, whoops." He dropped him, Nightmare letting out a pained groan as his face hit the packed down snow.

    They're looking for me, huh?

    Well, they oughta find me soon.

    I think I'm going mad.

◽️◼️◽️◼️◽️

    "I think I'm going mad." Horror said out loud to himself. He had stopped walking hours ago. Or was it hours? He couldn't tell. It was impossible to know the time here. He was laying down on his back, staring up at the endless sky.

    He kept reaching for his phone to text Dust, but each time he did, he remembered he put it on his night table before he went to sleep.

    He wanted to tell Dust where he was.

    He wanted to tell Dust he was okay.

    He wanted Dust to teleport here, pick him up, and take him home.

    He misses Dust.

    He felt tears pool down his eye sockets. He hasn't cried in forever. It felt horrible. A lump got caught in his throat, and his sockets burned like hell.

    He turned to lay on his side, and curled into a ball. This felt worse than when he was thrown into a depression back in his Universe. Maybe because this time, things were good before they weren't.

    Either way, happiness never felt so far away.