Showtime (A Sanscest Story)

The Full Moon

Nightmare's footsteps were quiet as he approached the tent. Inside, he could hear the beast sleeping. But... he blinked. There was another presence. He paused outside and turned his face up to the moon, which shone brightly. It illuminated the area around him. Nightmare closed his eyes, his bones soaking up the moonlight. He couldn't stay out there.

He slipped inside the tent and stopped. The beast, formerly known as Color, was curled up against the inner bars of its cage, its fire dim and eyes closed. It was breathing quietly, its breath loud and growling. It had curled itself right up against the bars and Nightmare immediately saw why.

Sleeping next to it, on the outer side of the bars, was Killer, who's face was still stained with tears. He was leaned back against the bars. Nightmare stared at him. "Pitiful..." He murmured, his tentacles waving. He knew he and Killer did not get along and Killer was the one who's pain fed Nightmare, but seeing him like this was somewhat sad.

Nightmare knew what he had to do. He moved around the side of the cage and laid down the whip. Using his liquid-like form, he slipped through the bars of the cage and approached the gaster-blaster creature quietly. He knelt next to it and his tentacle curled around its throat. "Thank you for your time."

He didn't give it a chance to wake up, only tightening the tentacle and the neck was heard softly cracking. He squeezed a little more and heard the neck break. The fire on the beast's head slowly flickered out, the fire along its spine and tail dying next. Nightmare stood up as the entire thing began to dust.

He watched it fall into a pile. He turned and pushed himself back out the cage bars. He had been too lenient with these beasts. He had a feeling that Fell would go next. The red skeleton was already prone to transitioning back and forth between his beast form and normal form, hence why they kept him chained in a pit.

For now, Fell was still controllable. "And Dust..." Nightmare murmured. He scowled. He did not want Dust to mutate. Dust was their best magic performer, and the one the audiences loved the most. Dust was struggling with his power and Nightmare was relieved that he hadn't crumbled yet.

Perhaps it had something to do with those magic restraints Blue had on him. Nightmare picked up his whip and left the tent, leaving Killer alone with the dust of his final best friend. He began to patrol the area once again, the whip coiled under his arm.

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Dust watched quietly as Nightmare left the tent. He knew he would be lashed severely if Nightmare caught him out, but his tent was all the way on the other side of the circus. He glanced around. There. He spotted a blue-striped tent and wondered if the occupant would allow him to duck inside again for a moment while Nightmare patrolled.

He went over to it, despite Papyrus' fierce hissing and scolding. He could see light from inside it. He tapped the side of the tent loudly and saw a shadow bolt up before starting to approach the flap. He took a step back as Blue pushed the flap open. His eyes were wide. "Dust!" He whispered in quiet shock. "It's past curfew! Get inside, quickly!"

Dust felt a bit of relief as he twitched and ducked inside the tent. The tent was lit with what appeared to be Christmas lights. White ones. They were woven all over the ceiling of the tent. There was a little desk with metal scraps and a decent-looking bed, along with a makeshift bathroom to the other side.

Dust blinked and turned back as Blue shut the tent flap. "What were you still doing out??" He asked, more out of disbelief than curiosity. Dust blinked and looked down. He'd gone to his thinking space in the woods. He'd lost track of time. Blue stared at him before looking down. "Oh, your tent is on the other side of the Circus, isn't it??"