My Friend Over the Phone

Chapter 31

He itched at the hole in his skull as he continued to sit. It hurt like the fires of hell were inside of it. He could've sworn his vision blurred and blacked out for a second, making him afraid he might've been going blind from the constant brightness. He continued itching. He couldn't figure out where he was, or how he got here. He had yelled repeatedly if anyone was there, but had long since stopped since his throat started hurting. He had remembered Error's story of being in the Anti-Void, that after he screamed for years, voices started screaming back. He hoped that he wouldn't begin to go insane.

He hugged himself. It hurt. Why did his bones hurt?

Why did it feel like he was falling a p a r t ?

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Footsteps quickly hit the padded snow. Nightmare knew he was here. He was sent to find Ink, to see what they could do to help him with this crisis. This one wasn't in danger of collapse, though. What was he doing in this Underfell copy?

There he was, standing on top of the Grillby's, observing as the human sliced the head right off of Edge's body. What a boring, repetitive route. "HEY!" His head turned showing wide eye sockets. They weren't wide from surprise, though. Even though his emotional patterns were always the same, he recognized the especially flat wave of it at this moment, accompanied by those piercing white crosshairs. The last time his face was like this was during the X-Event.

Nightmare's glare hardened as he came to a realization. He was already aware that Ink ditched his fake emotions, but if he didn't have emotions, that meant that he couldn't care less about the Universes that are crumbling away. He didn't care that Horror is suffering somewhere in the abyss. He teleported next to Ink, who dodged after he appeared. "So this is what the oh so terrifying King of Nightmares has been reduced to." He spoke, staring him down with a look that could make the deities above shrink in fear. But Nightmare was far from afraid of this asshole, even though he knew he should be.

"I'm sure you're here because of the apocalypse that's currently going on?"

"Why else would I come to talk to you?"

"Aren't you satisfied? I'm sure all the monsters dying are giving you plenty of negativity to feed off of. Or are you still playing the hero for your brother that you just started caring about after 500 years or leaving him in the dark?"

Sharp phalanges harshly gripped the front of Ink's shirt, lifting him up. He really had to thank Dream for giving Nightmare a button he could push. "Listen here, you fatuous sociopath." Nightmare's vision was darkening. The crystals that were scattered across the sky glowed brighter than usual. Magic started pouring out of his sockets, but he ignored it as his soul writhed in pain from the artist's sharp words. How dare he speak to him like that? He was one to talk, with how he was treating the problem at hand. "I came here to help. This problem you appear to be totally ignoring isn't just yours. All of us suffer if whatever is killing off these Universes succeeds in wiping out the whole world. So many are already gone, and you're doing nothing! So if it looks that hopeless, we want to help you. So stop being so pestiferous and let us!"

He slowly set Ink down as he looked away with an unreadable expression. His emotions and thoughts weren't readable either. His eye sockets narrowed. He had already gone this far. In all honesty, Ink wasn't sure what he was doing, or what he was trying to prove by letting the Multiverse fall into anarchy. He felt so torn over what to do. He looked at Nightmare again. He rebelled against everyone else too, didn't he? But even as he did, he still spread negativity like he was supposed to do. No, he wouldn't understand. What in the world was he thinking? He couldn't confide in him. He can't confide in anyone. He hated him. The ones he loved abandoned him for this, this mere shadow of what a God is meant to be. His head began to hurt as he felt that female voice scream at him again. He felt his right arm move on it's own as he lifted it up, and swung his closed fist as it met Nightmare's cheekbone. A loud, sharp noise briefly crackled through the underground as a deep crack spiralled up and down the side of his face. Ink teleported away as the other stumbled from the unexpected impact.

He slowly brought his hand up to his face, feeling the indent in his cheekbone. A few chips fell out as his phalanges glazed across the coarse surface. His magic began to pour out of the wound. His nerves began to realize the wound was there, making it hurt. More purple magic poured from his sockets as he began to laugh to himself. He really didn't care about the Universes at all, did he? He was right about him all along. He hated to think about how Dream would react to his old friend's insubordination, but at least they could do things his way now. His laughter began to subside, but his smile remained.

He could finally get him back for what he did to Cross.

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Despite himself, Horror tried to think. He was aware that he wasn't the best at piecing things together, but he knew he could try. He deduced that he was, in fact, in the Anti-Void. Probably in another part of it than the one that Error used to dwell. How he got there? Still working on that part. How to get out?...also still working on that part. But at least he knew where he was, and he had to admit that it took him longer than he would've liked to figure such an obvious thing out.

   "you should just quit..." He heard a voice whisper.

    He whipped around, but no one was there.