Showtime (A Sanscest Story)

The Open Book

Dust had joined the snowball fight. Lust and Cross were being sent running for their lives as snowballs rained down from above. Blue was giggling next to Dust as he watched. Ink had gone off to see Error, basically switching himself out for Dust. Cross laughed as he ducked inside an empty tent with Lust.

His laughter was stopped as he felt a sudden ache in his chest. Right in his SOUL. He trembled and raised a hand to his chest, his eyes wide. Lust seemed to notice and was at his side, kneeling down as Cross slowly sank to his knees. "Cross?? What's wrong??"

He got up and went outside. Cross could faintly hear him yelling and the childish excitement he'd felt earlier, soon disappeared into concern and worry and alarm. Cross looked up shakily as Blue came hurrying in with Lust. Dust stayed back by the door, watching with narrowed eyes.

Cross inhaled shakily, tears already starting up. That hurt bad. It wasn't even physical pain, which he could've handled a little better. No, it was emotional pain. Everything hurt. Tears began to run down his face and Blue cried out in alarm, begging him not to cry.

Lust wanted to know what was wrong. Cross jumped as both the skeletons' SOULS lit up purple and they were dragged away from him. Cross looked up to see Blue talking to Dust. He seemed to understand what Dust wanted and darted off. Lust was sent away as well and Cross shuddered as Dust turned to him with those unpredictable, glowing eyes.

Hadn't Killer told him to watch out for this monster and not be left alone with him? Dust blinked, seeming to focus on something behind Cross, but when he turned to look, nothing was there. He turned back, only to inhale sharply. Something was forming in front of him.

A ghostly skull with two floating hands on a red scarf. It was forming slowly, fumes of magic floating off of it. It was coming from Dust, who watched from the doorway. And it reeked of pain. Cross felt like his SOUL was being crushed. His eyes widened and he grit his jaws, his body shaking. He felt his vision flicker before it went black.

Cross came to as Reaper appeared in front of him. He lifted Cross and started bringing him out of the tent. Dust had disappeared and Cross was thankful. He could feel his breathing being cut short. He hated it. "You okay?" Reaper asked. Cross managed to nod and tug away from him. "What's the problem?"

Cross blinked as Reaper guided him toward the side of another tent and set him down. He drifted in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"I-It's nothing..." Cross said, avoiding his gaze. Reaper seemed unconvinced. Cross could feel doubt and a little bit of concern coming off of Reaper. Lots of worry. "You don't have to worry about me... It's not something the Medical Tent can fix..." He felt a bit of shock and confusion pulse off of Reaper.

The other drifted closer. Cross sighed. He looked up and yelped. He could feel a dark feeling coming over Reaper. The other had summoned his scythe, the blade digging into the ground.

"I was the one who healed all your scars, remember? Your misaligned ribcage? The scratch marks scoured into the side of your skull? The abrasions around your neck?" The other looked up at him. Cross, even though he was a skeleton, somehow went pale. He instinctively covered his neck. "There is a reason you're here. We are a family. What happened to you, Cross?" Reaper asked, sitting.

Cross trembled as he stared at him. He... How could he...? He gulped. There had been horrible scars on the entirety of his skeletal body. "I... I ran away..." He admitted. He felt understanding ripple out from Reaper. Reaper nodded and beckoned for him to continue.

"He just got worse... my father... he took his anger out on me! I tried to hide! To talk to him! But he wouldn't ever listen! So I ran away! I don't want to be hurt anymore!" Cross' voice was choking up. He was shaking. He felt relief from Reaper and looked up.