•Chapter 4•

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The first thing you learned about the skeletons - other than their names and violent tendencies - was that they hated people. It was to be expected, though you did not know why their hatred ran so deep, so strong.

The house they inhabited had all the necessities, though the pantry needed to be re-stocked every few days.

Shouldn't there be magic for that?

There was not, unfortunately, so you had to deliver the food as it was needed. The skeleton known as 'Dust' attacked you the first time you came around, which prompted you to create a half-schedule of dates you would stop by.

And so, you settled into a routine of sorts. Come by every few days to bring them food and water, attempt to converse with them, then leave. So far, your attempts at conversation always fell flat.

Until one day.

The day started out normally. You gathered the bags of food and opened the portal to the skeleton's pocket. Strangely enough, there was no one waiting on the other end to greet (attack) you.

Adjusting the bags in your arms, you padded down the path leading to the front door. There was a doorbell, but you decided not to ring it (Horror loathed the sound), gently placing your offerings on the top step.

"why... why do you... do this...?"

You flinched, turning around to face Horror. He was standing a few feet from you, phalanges buried in his dead socket. Such behavior both concerned and unnerved you; didn't it hurt, too??

You cocked your head, wings puffing instinctually. "Come again?"

He tugged his socket. You cringed. "why... do you...?"

"Help you?" You finished, body relaxing. He wasn't acting threatening... yet.

He nodded slowly.

It was a good question. Why did you help them? In the end, it had been your decision to help...

"Because I can."

Horror stared at you for a long, long time. It was unnerving, though it didn't look like he was going to attack. His eyelight wobbled and he looked away for a split second.

"can't be... true," he concluded softly. You frowned, mildly offended. "-isn't possible."

"Perhaps," you reigned in your frustration, keeping a level facade. Horror stepped back when you approached him, a spark of uncertainty hidden in his crimson gaze. "If you keep assuming the worst, the best will never come."

You walked past him, already forming an exit portal. Horror doesn't move, nor does Nightmare, who you can see staring out the window.

"...the best never comes... ever."

What?

It was too late to answer; the portal closed behind you and you were left alone once again.

***

"...i don't think she's... bad..."

Dust's skull shot up. "are you on drugs?"

Horror bristled, aggressively shoving a piece of meat in his maw. "fuck off."

"no, you fuck off."

Nightmare exhaled from his spot at the table. This was why he hated mealtimes. "Both of you shut up. Horror, why do you say that?"

They quieted, but continued sending death glares at each other. Horror turned his gaze to Nightmare. "just... not bad."

"you're just saying that 'cause she brings food," Dust muttered. "she's working for those craft store goodie-two-shoes, for fucks' sake."

"...the food wasn't... poisoned."

"I doubt those 'craft store goodie-two-shoes' would attempt such a thing, especially my brother," Nightmare said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes. Horror's cooking was delicious (not that he would ever say it, of course). "That being said, one can never be too careful."

Killer, who'd remained silent through the better part of the conversation, cleared his nonexistent throat. "what if we befriended her? it would be useful to have an... acquaintance on the enemy's side."

Dust snorted. "it'll never work, dipshit. those bastards'll see right through it."

"not if we're... sneaky," a sadistic smile wormed its way onto Horror's face. "...can't be... too hard."

"Then it's settled," Nightmare stood up and used one of his tentacles to place his plate in the sink. "Killer, you'll be in charge of this... operation. Horror, you will help."

Killer looked particularly unenthused, but nodded in understanding. Horror's expression, particularly his twisted smile, made even Nightmare nervous (again, not that he would ever admit it).

The stage was set. While they knew the risks of such a plan, it was clear that no one would back out. Freedom was the most important thing, after all.

***

Oh, things are heating up 😮

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