Feeling Reborn

Deck of Cards

The blindfold was finally untied, and the blinding LED lights shadowing the Don were finally revealed. Nightmare would be lying if he said that his eyes didn't hurt from the harsh intrusion.

"Welcome, Nightmare, to the Gaster family. I trust you will uphold the pledge you will be obliged to cite after our medics have maxed out your HP." The Gaster sounded quite affronted with his bouts of impertinence, but overall, he seemed quite pleased with himself, the uptight bastard.

Nightmare felt his arms being unshackled through the misty, feverish haze of his mind, and was promptly injected with a sedative before he even had the chance to retaliate.

----

He had accepted the offer.

Nightmare preferred being shackled to this weak contract than being chained to a stone wall. So far, his choice had paid off, but he did regret the degrading words he spewed during his feverish imprisonment.

But hey, a punch to the gut quickly resolved many issues, this one included. Many members learned not to badmouth him the hard way.

And what were a few dead, incompetent agents compared to obtaining him, Nightmare, the family's new trump card? At least Gaster - the Don - turned a blind eye to his habits. Brawls seemed common amongst the recruits anyway.

His own ace in the hole was greedily kept to his side. Although a handful of members were aware of his magic, he had decided to play it off as something rare and draining; and it wasn't a complete lie. Coating himself in negativity and tar felt good while the corrupt shield lasted. The second it went down, though, he would be vulnerable and stunned for a good while by the sudden influx of nasty emotions.

He still missed his corrupt form, but, to get out of this universe, he would have to play his cards well. This included actually obeying orders (for now) and playing along with the various tasks shoved onto him until he found an exit.

His current location: a second story bathroom of an abandoned building, waiting for the apparition of his target. A loaded revolver gripped tightly in his hand, he prepared himself for the shot.

Nightmare was no stranger to death and murder, but he felt slightly disconnected to the notions when he had to commit the act with a fucking gun and no protection other than a black trench coat.

Before he could spend more time lamenting about his wardrobe change, his target turned a corner and stepped a few feet away from the windowsill he leaned on. Perfect.

The sector in which he was about to commit a crime was quite run down, but was the wealthier block of the slums. Despite its reputation of being affordable and less crime-ridden than the poorest neighborhoods of the city, it really wasn't much better than the slums themselves. So, no one except for the most naïve of souls with the biggest hero complex to ever exist would question a murder in broad daylight.

Aim...

And fire.

The bullet passed through the open window to lodge itself into the human's throat. The man fell to the pavement with a distressed gurgle, and died slowly as blood pooled around his neck and head like fresh wine. Nightmare chuckled. Target eliminated.

He was used to more up close and personal kills - preferably with a little 'personal time' with the half-dead victim - but orders were orders, and at least he wasn't assigned to diplomatic tasks. Nightmare leapt down from the dusty ledge, landing almost silently beside the cooling corpse.

"Good job, rookie. Now get the damn package," a raspy voice snapped beside him.

He sighed, crouching over the body to pat down the torso. Meanwhile, Doggo leaned against a lamppost and took a long drag of his cigar, eyes seeing right through him.

Honestly, it was just his luck, being assigned to Doggo on his first run. The half-blind canine did virtually nothing to help, so Nightmare was the one having to pick up all the slack - and how he hated being the underling. Magic was crawling beneath his skin, ready to squeeze the life out of the filthy mutt, to stab and pierce until not even dust remained.

Nightmare restrained himself from performing his gory fantasies on the subject, but indulged in the creative ways to kill a Monster while marking the dead male with more bullet holes.

He was going to leave soon, and then go on a killing spree the moment he returned to his Multiverse. This self-restraint he exerted would not last long, and he will not feel sorry for the victims crossing his path when he snapped.

-----

He didn't live with the family although he had a place in the barracks. It was sparsely furnished with limited storage, but was spacey and had few inhabitants; Gaster had been thoughtful enough to sacrifice some room for his subordinates, but distrust won out.

Nightmare leaned heavily towards distrust: sharing a public sleeping quarters with sketchy strangers disgusted him.

It wasn't just loud sleeping habits or a profound hate of companions that he disliked: it was the notion of trusting his inert body to the occupants who could easily stab him in the back. The fact that he was a very light sleeper made little to no difference; it actually kept him from getting any decent shut-eye.

Not that it mattered much either, since he didn't really need sleep. He could function just fine on negativity, and oh boy, was there ever a bigger supply of that than what this Multiverse had?

Then, he reminded himself of the shithole he had been ejected from.

Yeah. This place came in second.

He carelessly slung his cheap pistol onto an equally lousy armchair. His new place was poorly lit, small, and tacky, a substantial change from his mansion, but he didn't care. Upon exploring this world, he had come to the quick realization that nowhere was entirely safe (not really different from his Multiverse), so might as well conserve some cash and rent a cheap motel room.

Nightmare sat on the hard mattress. Nights always felt shorter than days to him, so staying up shouldn't be a problem.

But it was.

The mattress spring dug into his pelvis. He paid this no mind, summoning a small bone to twirl between his fingers, instead concentrating on the total silence of the night. One minute passed like an hour, and he wasn't getting any closer to figuring a way out.

He set his head on his hand, wondering how he even arrived here - and yes, he was aware of the fact that a Deity had sent him here, but how and why?

Nightmare didn't even know the guy- but he did remember how he arrived.

If he played his cards right and found this world's VOID, he might be able to travel back; not that he was in a hurry. Then again, he could die. Didn't make much of a difference, seeing as he was already being bored to death in this universe.

With a vague plan piecing itself together in his mind, Nightmare lay on the obsolete mattress for the rest of the night, wandering thoughts slipping in between the bigger picture.

-----

Creativity boost in the summer? Nah.

Anyway, stay safe <3

(14/07/2021)