Delusion

Insanity

A clatter of metal objects was heard falling in the basement. The noise was too loud for it to have fallen by itself, someone must of thrown it.

Down in the basement, there were scraps of metal scattered in front of a table up against a wall. A man with dark brown hair and eyes stood in front of it, breathing heavily. He had a large smile on his face. He stayed where he stood, his smile getting longer. He started to laugh, laughing like a maniac.

The man stopped. His expression grew still, no longer smiling. He crouched in front of the scraps, and cleared them away to find a knife. He picked it up with him as he stood up, looking at every edge of it.

"Oh.."

He put his finger on the knife, cutting it open. Blood slowly dripped from the tip of his finger, falling to the ground. The hot, red substance trailed down his hand. He smiled.

"Today is my day, I'll do it this time. I'll go back."

The man lowered the knife to point to his chest.

"Will?"

He froze. The brown haired man turned to the door of the basement, to see an older man standing before him.

"Dad-? Oh- how did you.." He lowered the hand he held the knife in, hiding it behind his back. "How'd you get in here..? I locked all the doors..."

He was still smiling, laughing nervously as he spoke.
The older man had a concerned look on his face.

"Wilbur, what are you doing?"
He was looking down at the blood on the floor. Wilbur didn't notice that, but he knew that his father knew what he was trying to do.

"Philza, philza, this isn't what it looks like!"
He paused for a moment,
"..nevermind, it's exactly what it looks like. But I'm doing a good thing! A wonderful thing, a life changing thing!"

"Will!" He screamed at him, making Wilbur go silent. Philza sighed, his expression growing more worried.
"Killing yourself? How is that a good thing, Will? It will only bring pain to you and everyone around you."

"But Philza! If I die, I can go back. I can go back to the real world..."

Philza looked at him in disbelief, unable to speak. Wilbur went on, "Philza Watson, this world, this place, none of it is real. We're all fake, versions of another!"

"Wilbur, what are you on about? Ofcourse this is real, I can see you right in front of me, I've seen so many things. Why are you suddenly so..."

"So stupid? Crazy? Insane?" He started to laugh, "Is this what you see me as, Phil? I'm not insane! Dream, he–"

"Dream?! That voice, in your head? Wilbur, that isn't real! Dream isn't a real person, he's someone you've made up! Someone you've made up to get over your grief, to get over Sally-"

Wilbur glared at him, his eyes wide. "Don't you.. ever... speak to me about her."
He shook his head and smiled again, "Oh-ho-ho, Philza, Philza, you really don't understand. When I am dead, I'll go back.. I'll go back to our world, our real world, our original world."

It went silent for a while.

"It's real, Phil. You're just too blind to see it. You haven't heard what Dream had to show me.."
Wilbur held the knife out again, holding it to his chest.

"Wilbur, you can't–"

"OH, yes I can! Just watch me,"

Wilbur stabbed himself, blood oozing out his chest. Philza watched in shock, not being able to do anything. The brown haired man coughed up some of the red liquid, all of it covering his chest and mouth. He sighed happily, and stumbled backwards.