Dreaming of Demons (Dream x oc)

[30] Trapped

I awoke to the dim view of a rocky ceiling above me. I blinked a couple of times and attempted to move my hand to rub my eyes, but my arm hardly moved two inches. I felt like all strength had been drained from my body.

My left arm was completely sore, even more so than the rest of my limbs. I couldn't move it without pain shooting through my arm.

With a bit of effort, I was able to drag my right hand up to the opposite shoulder. My fingers brushed against a bandage wrapped tightly around my upper arm. I lifted my head to see fresh bandages wrapping around my forearms as well. I had a guess of who could have bandaged my wounds back up, but now that I thought of it, I didn't know where the two in question were.

My nerves seemed to alight just thinking about Dream and Wilbur. I hated that I was already on edge, my mind flooding with questions like how, when, and where. It made things worse not knowing what they were doing or planning. But first, I needed to figure out where I was before trying to find them.

I gathered my strength before pushing myself up into a sitting position. My palms chafed against the rough canvas of the cot I had been resting on. It instantly reminded me of Dream's prison cell—the rock encased room and the sad excuse for a bed—but thankfully, it wasn't the same in every aspect. Unlike the rock ceiling, the walls were made of sturdy brick. There was a dark door on the wall I faced and another one to my right. The one to my right was hanging wide open, revealing a small bathroom on the other side. Craning my neck, my eyes followed a stream of sunlight to a barred hole high up on the wall behind me, one I wouldn't be able to touch even if I jumped. I scowled and swept my gaze across the room once more. There was nothing else in the room. Not even a chest or desk. Just me and my dingy cot.

I moved my feet to the floor but didn't stand just yet. My body was slowly warming up to movement again. I had never been so weak after waking up before. My fatigue must have been a side effect of whatever had caused me to pass out.

I didn't have the headache anymore, and neither did I hear any whispering. In fact, the stale air in the room was completely quiet.

My gaze landed on the closed, wooden door. It had to be my way out of here.

With new determination, I lifted myself to my feet, dizziness sweeping over me like a breeze. As soon as it passed, I started moving. I was careful, taking slow steps until I could feel the weariness seeping away. My legs no longer shook once I reached the door.

The metal doorknob was cold in my palm. My hand tightened around it as I paused. Would it even open? Would someone hear me from the opposite side? I didn't want to bring unnecessary attention and possibly jeopardize a chance to get out of here. I had to be extremely careful with the decisions I made here.

I twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible and pulled steadily. It didn't budge. I pulled harder, and the door remained firmly in place. It was locked.

I sighed, leaning forward until my forehead pressed against the rough grain of the door. Of course the door would be locked. Why would I expect anything different?

I spun around, my back facing the door as I surveyed the room more thoroughly. Though it looked old, the brick probably wouldn't yield any loose pieces I could pull away. And the bathroom was sealed in brick walls as well. I looked up to the hole in the wall, a crude window. I could see the sky, and if I jumped, the tips of trees as well. From the glimpse I caught, I figured they were spruce trees.

I wouldn't be able to reach the barred window on my own, but if I moved the cot under it, I could get a better look. I crossed the stone floor to reach for the cot, but a loud clicking from the locked door nearly scared me out of my skin. I scrambled to sit on the bed as casually as possible, the metal frame scraping the floor in my haste. I briefly cringed at the sound as my gaze pinned to the door, studying every small movement the person made as they stepped into my cell.

It was Dream.

He pocketed the key he had used to open the door, and I started envisioning the possible difficulty of getting a hold of it. But that seemed a bit risky as of now.

"You're finally awake," he said, the smile on his mask staring at me. I couldn't tell if the subtle tone in his voice was irritation or surprise.

I shifted on the cot, feeling uncomfortable with the rigid position I was sitting in. I wasn't entirely sure how to respond. What was he trying to get at with this conversation?

"Yeah, I...I don't know what happened," I said. I drew a tense breath, watching as he moved to close the door to a crack, but remaining near the only exit to the room. He didn't react to my words.

"Can't you just let me go?" I tried, my voice gaining some strength. "No one believes me when I tell them about you anyway, so if that's what you're really worried about, then—"

"No."

The rest of my words halted, and I closed and opened my mouth again as I attempted to come up with the best way to reason with him.

"I'm not letting you go." He continued when I couldn't produce any words. "I was planning on killing you, but...Dream won't let me. Not even when you tried to do so yourself," he muttered.

"What?" I breathed, surprised at the fact that he really had planned to kill me, but...Dream had somehow interfered? Once again, I was puzzled over how much control he had over the demon—That was if what he was currently saying was true.

Dream shrugged. "An inconvenience for sure, but I'll figure it out."

My stomach twisted just hearing him contemplate my death. I needed to get out of here, and fast. But my curiosity and hope was sparked. Maybe the real Dream wasn't as lost as I thought.

"So...you carried me all the way here because Dream made you do it," I stated, carefully watching him for confirmation.

"More or less," he said, "Turns out you had a part of the Egg growing in your arm so I had to dig that out with my own knife."

My eyes widened and I glanced at my aching, left arm. So that's what had been causing the headaches and the whispering. I must have missed one of the thorns in my arm when I was removing them the day after the explosion. To think that just one small piece of the Egg had taken such a toll on me was a bit alarming.

At least I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. After what Quackity and I had done, I didn't think I would ever see the Egg again.

But that was if I was able to find my way back to the SMP. I had no idea how long I had been out. We could have travelled for hours, moving further and further from the SMP, all while I was unconscious.

"Where are we?" I suddenly asked, staring at the floor as I tried to mentally create a map of the distance we had travelled. But I got lost making sense of it.

"I wouldn't think too much about the SMP," he said, "It's far behind us now."

So many questions lay at the tip of my tongue, yet I knew he would never truly answer them. So I swallowed them down and stayed quiet.

"Well, now that you're actually alive, I don't need to check on you every hour." He moved to swing the door open. "And I don't want to hear about you causing problems while I'm gone."

"Wait," I spoke quickly, causing him to stop in the doorway, "That's it? You're just going to leave?"

He stood still, one hand in his pocket while the other rested on the doorknob. He stared at me for a moment as if contemplating, though I wasn't really sure since any expression he pulled was hidden behind the mask. All I ever got was a silent smile. I wondered if he would ever take the mask off again.

"Yes, that's it." He finally responded, the cut to his words clearly stating that this was the end of the conversation.

With that, he slipped through the door and pulled it closed with a heavy thud, letting the rigid silence fall thicker than before he had entered.

But the silence brought thinking, and in that quiet thinking, I could plan my escape.

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A/N

Looks like Dream and Taryn switched spots lol. Now she's the one imprisoned, though she's not gonna sit around and do nothing about it.