Dreaming of Demons (Dream x oc)

[32] Friendly Dinner

My neck was bruised and sore the next day. In fact, my whole body was bruised and battered. I didn't have a mirror to see how bad some of them were but I flinched when my fingers grazed over my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, expelling the thoughts of the events that had happened the day before. It was a painful setback and I didn't want to dwell on it.

I remained on my cot when the door opened. I only stared up at the ceiling, my eyes tracing the same grooves in the stone over and over again. I was guessing it was Dream who had entered, but it could have been Wilbur. It could have been anyone, but whoever it was didn't say a word and they promptly left. They also locked the door.

After a while, I sat up, my gaze immediately landing on a tray of food on the ground near the door. I crept over to it, taking in the new addition to my room—or cell. A small roll sat near a bowl of muted brown soup. There was a wooden cup of water as well.

I was starving. I hadn't eaten in so long and the sight of food sent my stomach growling. The food could have been poisoned for all I knew, but at this point, I was willing to risk it. The roll was okay but the soup was nearly tasteless. I didn't realize how thirsty I was until I drank the water. I used the sink in the bathroom to get another cup or two, waiting a few seconds until the dirty brown color cleared.

I twisted the spoon I had received between my fingers, studying it. The utensil wasn't exactly weapon material. And even if I managed to make it some sort of weapon, what then? Stab Dream with it? That was really the only way I could get away from him, but I didn't think I could bring myself to deliberately stab a person, especially if they were a demon-possessed friend.

So weapons were begrudgingly off the table for an escape. But that didn't mean I couldn't use the spoon for something else.

I moved my cot beneath the window again and started using the spoon to try chipping away at the rock encasing the iron bars in the window. But I soon realized the rock was shaving down the wooden spoon, doing the complete opposite of what I wanted. I chucked the splintering spoon across the room and it bounced off the door. It was worth a try, I guess.

I went into the bathroom to try showering, but I found out that there was no towel or anything else to use. Did Dream and Wilbur forget the necessities of living?

I collapsed on the bed again. There was nothing to do. At least, nothing I could do without angering Dream. After what happened the day before, I realized I couldn't escape like that again. Dream would just catch me, he had already proved that. My hand drifted to my neck. And it seemed he could still hurt me as long as it wasn't fatal, which... didn't reassure me at all.

I curled up on the cot and tried dozinh off for a bit. I couldn't ever stay asleep for longer than ten minutes. Just being in this basement, knowing Dream and Wilbur were sitting above possibly plotting the demise of the SMP didn't sit well with me. I was constantly on guard and I felt exhausted because of it, but my nerves and the 'what-ifs?' popping in my mind wouldn't let me rest. It was a cycle I couldn't break out of.

Instead, I kept my eyes closed, focusing on breathing. The room was deathly quiet and I could practically hear myself think. As minutes crawled on, I managed to make out the single tune of a bird somewhere in the distance outside my window. But that was it. Just the softest musical sound. It was amazing how much I appreciated the small sound of a creature, something I wouldn't have thought twice otherwise. But when the bird fell silent, a piece of myself broke away, disintegrating into nothing. I was alone.

The lock on the door clicked a couple of times, shattering the quiet in the room and scaring me into full on alert. I sat up and watched as Dream placed a tray of food on the ground, pulling the previous one away. He stood up and paused, turning his head as if scanning the room. The wooden spoon lay on the ground near the wall, and as soon as his gaze swept over it, he strode over to swipe the spoon from the ground.