Ceasefire - A Lost Chapter
Created: 02.07.23
Finished: 02.13.23
Edited: 05.20.23
Published: 05.20.23
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Trigger Warning: flashbacks, descriptive torture and attempted escape scenes, be cautious, death. snow, fire
Word Count: 2864
A/N: ..i was supposed to upload the next chapter, but..there's like..I have to attend to this sleepover thing between classmates, before graduation. And although I don't really have the mood to go, it's kinda like a one time thing, and I despise missing chances. SO I have to attend, despite having no close friends within my class. So yes, sorry. I have to go somewhere.
This chapter is originally part of the next one I was ought to publish, BUT since it got to 10 000 words, yeaaa, had to cut it up to three parts. And since the first part seems irrelevant, I plan to cut it off and leave it out. This is the cut part of the chapter; something so out of place, but maybe you guys might like to read it. As for the next chapter, I have to heavily edit it since it was tore off to parts, which is why I couldn't publish it today.
Please be cautious, there is torture and attempted escape scenes that might be too..yeah, discretion is advised. Art, as always, is mine, you guys cann eat it omph. See ya next week everyone, loves^^
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It was cold.
No, there was a bit of warmth all around him.
...I'm back.
His untrimmed nails ground against the rough dirt, attempting to ground himself as he gets back to reality.
Its texture is different, different from the valley. It was warm and comforting, the cave has always been a dread.
Everything felt unreal if he did move, yet still, he pulled himself upright and opened his eyes.
It was dark, it was quiet..where was he?
Was it the perfect time to escape?
Escape?
Escape from what again?
Gulping a dry lump down his throat, he used whatever solid material to get himself up..feeling disconnection on his lower body.
How to walk again?
Does he start with the right foot or left?
Oh it doesn't fucking matter.
His hand rubbed against the rough cave walls. At this point, he remembered where he's supposed to go.
Well, more on familiar than remember.
He trusted each step as it led the way without his control.
The way he went left to right, straight and back, he could no longer bother to question it. His body knew the way out, even if he had little to no memory.
The scent of rancid had dissipated at each movement, he was getting far away from the pile.
He was going to miss those bodies. Those bodies of his.
He didn't understand how he had formed connections to those lifeless things..flesh rotting in time, frost slowing it down.
What little of them left, it kept him warm.
What little humanity they left behind, it kept him sane.
When will this hellish labyrinth end?
Finally some light illuminated from the distance. Relief somewhat washes over his body.
He shouldn't be too complacent, it wasn't the first time he has encountered this.
He had familiarised the outlines of the cave; the curves and pathways it could lead people. The deadways and pits that could end someone's life.
He could get out easily, the problem is the environment outside that he barely adjusted to being in the dark and clammy solitude..
..and Dream.
The thought of his name made stumble his steps, almost retching at the idea of him being here, waiting for him to go outside.
What could happen?
He'd knock him out by a weapon's handle?
Predator and prey game?
Does anyone even know about that game?
Hah.
Tommy got lucky, not too lucky that day.
That time he could actually still run, jump, and feel the fresh emotion such as fear.
He ran when Dream wasn't looking, he ran when Dream pulled up a bow and arrow at him.
He has always wondered how'd he have such a good aim despite the snow and fog this wretched arctic brings.
The howling of the winds refrained everyone from hearing his screams, his pleads of help as he kept running, an arrow on his leg, an arrow on his shoulder.
In a panic state he tried to find where Dream could be, at the same time, finding his way out of the freezing mist.
He must be saying something, he could hear his murmurs, but the gales were louder than he was.
Tommy yelped and pressed his lips shut as an arrow stuck out his side as he held it down with his wounded arm.
It'd be foolish to take them off now, he knew well he'd bleed to death that way.
With all his might, he kept going, slower than before, desperate to find a familiar light; a hope..a beacon of purple and red.
It could be anywhere, if he could see better maybe he'd find it.
An arrow flew past and if he had been slower, it could have stabbed his back.
He clicked his tongue and bolted, trying not to feel the discomfort of his leg impaled, blood squirting out everytime he jogged.
Luck. It must be luck.
That everything began to turn dark, and the stars began to rise and dance on the oceanic skies. This would help him better where the light is, and so it did.
From afar to his left, he could see that beam..and he could almost cry.
He could remember almost shedding tears, that foolish belief that he could actually get out from Dream's hands, oh god how complacent was he?
One step forward towards the light, the arrow went through his eye.
The force was enough to bring him down, his hands giving up to put pressure on his wounds, his mouth gaping wide, so was the eye that was left of him.
It hurt, it hurt like hell, but he couldn't begin to scream.
Shock replaced the excruciating pain.
His ears twitch hearing those familiar steps, and one grab of his ankle, he was pulled away.
Dream must have said something, he had been saying something, but it was all muffled, and he couldn't care less hearing his infuriating monologues.
His nerves must have been damaged, since he could no longer feel a part of his body, or probably because of the cold slowly eating him alive.
He left without any coat and shoes after all.
Being dragged against the snow made him paint the snow red, like wine poured and wiped all over.
He thought that maybe the others could see the faint crimson sight, at the same time, despair took a toll on him..he had failed to escape..and Dream would ensure he could never escape like this once again.
The last thing he could remember seeing the outside world was the marvellous performance of the aurora borealis, it was the one of the few times he could see colour, in contrast to his grey prison.
...
The vague memory of Dream pulling out the arrows was something he'd rather not remember.
Dream enjoyed that one, he treated the arrows like knives; he pushed the tips deeper, even had the audacity to twist them inside, giving Tommy some gut-wrenching screams..screams no one could hear but him.
He has no idea how he was still alive, surely an arrow on the eye could have been his demise, but gods above and below, he had given him a miracle.
A god forsaken miracle.
The only thing that's left would be his eye.
Twitching in pain, his tears mixed with blood, seeping out of his system making him pale. He knew too well that this was the way he'd die..it's not a first time experience, but what he felt emotionally was far worse compared to Dream's attempt to pull out the arrow from his socket.
It was illegal to beg, and so he kept his mouth shut, but his captor's dull way of having it out was nothing but torment, his body twisting in response to his pain, his fists clenching tight so much his nails might as well drew blood on his palms.
With a strenuous cry, the arrow was pulled out as Dream plopped it down with the rest of them.
Tommy clutched his lost eye's, his heart pounding wildly, terrified of how much he was bleeding there.
He was fucking losing it, with or without anyone patching him up, he could die at this rate, and he was ready for it.
"You really put up a fight out there. If I was any slower, anyone could have seen you." It's better off if his ears were clogged off by the cold, hearing his voice couldn't have been any more annoying,
"Do this next time and your death would be far worse than this."
Honestly, Dream..A situation where a hunter takes down a deer for meat, being impaled by multiple arrows, taking them out, not to mention worsening the wounds before that happens?
What on earth could be possibly worse than that?
The answer? A whole lot more.
The threat made him laugh, if he would wheeze, he'd choke by his own blood, trickling down on his mouth with his saliva.
"I wonder what's funny, Tommy? Do you not find your situation dire?" A hand grabbed hold of his neck, taking him up as Tommy struggled to breathe,
"Your socket looks fascinating to look at. It's like Sam's...but far..human." Tommy bit his lip so much it might as well bleed.
Man had the fucking guts to plunge his finger inside and feel his insides.
It seemed that his eye completely ruptured, what was left of it was a puddle of blood, left abandoned outside the arctic.
It was agonising, but he kept his lips together to avoid moaning in pain.
Despite feeling the sense of discomfort, he could only stay still and let it happen.
Dream's probably getting into his mad scientist self again, wherever the hell that came from.
When he finally pulled it out, Tommy gasped in pain and held his face close to him, his other eye blazing in rage at him, his yellow teeth gritting against the dark,
"What would happen if your eye remained intact? Would the insides stay the same? Or it wouldn't have too much blood on it.."
Tommy had a feeling that he knew what Dream might do, and so he tensed up, prepared on what he might face,
"You wouldn't mind cooperating, would you, Tommy?" He chuckled, lifting a dagger from his holder.
Tommy's body backed off, but he didn't want that to happen and so his mind kept his ground, despite the body quaking in fear, "Go fuck yourself."
crack.
The flashback cuts off hearing a faint cry.
His eyebrows creased slightly..did Dream kidnap someone else, other than him?
No- No, that wouldn't make any sense.
Who would he take if that were to be true?
Dream expressed spit on what Quackity did to him, and he mentioned a thing or two about Sam.
He only talked about Tubbo whenever he tried to get under Tommy's nerves.
What if it was Tubbo?
He'd never forgive himself if Tubbo was dragged down in hell with him.
He could finally see the exit.
There were times he considered the snow as a god; every time he'd see it, he felt freedom..hope.
Along with the sight of white rain, he saw a small campfire. Wood cracked and popped every time fire engulfed them into ash.
It's been forever since Tommy felt that warmth, and so he followed it like what a moth does to a lamp, a beetle towards the light until he stops..hearing another cry.
He looked up and saw someone sitting close to the exit..wearing a dark green hoodie. The hair brimmed with dirty yellow strands was something that Tommy never mistaken for someone else.
Dream.
Tommy, not knowing what to do, walked towards anyway and kept his footsteps quiet.
Besides, Dream seemed preoccupied by something else to notice him escaping.
Was escaping worth it at this point?
If Dream was here, most likely, his escape would be a failure.
Oh well, he could always go back and play another round of hide and seek at him, but at the same time, he didn't.
He wasn't planning on doing that at all.
Instead, he kept going, and going, until he got to beside him.
It would feel good. It would feel so fucking good to run, run away from this terrible place he imprisoned him.
But Dream has always been quicker, smarter..he'd never stand a chance.
He has already accepted that.
And so, he sat down and the creaking of his bones made Dream realise he wasn't alone and yelped at the sight of Tommy sitting close to him,
"What- the fuck? Tommy! What the fuck are you doing here?!"
Tommy tiled his head, watching Dream as he cleaned himself off roughly, "You're fucking trying to escape again, aren't you, little shit?"
Tommy shook his head and stayed down on the ground.
Dream noticed nowadays that Tommy seemed to lack..energy enough to form a reaction, but he has always excused that from exhaustion..considering he's torturing him and killing him again and again, not to mention revive him each death he faced.
It was futile for him to run, and if Tommy tried to do that, it wouldn't be hard pinning him down and dragging him back inside.
With all of that thinking, Dream gave up and sat down with Tommy.
Silence could get so loud, Dream appreciated every howl of wind passing by the cave.
The fire was hardly helpful keeping him warm, to the point that he got used to the temperature around these parts.
Unlike him, Tommy didn't have anything but his ragged clothes and no shoes. His dirty feet burrowed close to the snow, Dream was aghast seeing no signs of him shivering.
He looked like he was not feeling cold..at all.
He can no longer pretend that the things he had been doing changed Tommy.
It's not like it's a surprise, he had expected it to happen, and wanted him to suffer.
But..now that he saw it first hand, the fact that he looked like that, and acted like that..
..Why is he feeling regret?
"Why are you crying?" Tommy asked in a soft tone, his wide eyes staring at the falling snow.
Dream scoffed and looked away, "None of your fucking business."
And so Tommy kept quiet, and so did Dream. He watched Tommy raise his hand, to hold a snowflake against his palm.
It was this time he had noticed that observing his grey eyes gazing at the infinitesimal object with no soul, this wasn't the Tommy he used to know, "You knew it's futile to escape, so you didn't run. But you could have come back inside so I wouldn't see you."
Tommy shrugged, and lifted his knees..it was numb, and that ached, "It's cold inside." He answered vaguely.
Dream found that unfathomable.
His body was not showing any signs of being cold at all, he was not even trembling, shivering to stay warm.
What the fuck is happening to him?
"Well..are you cold right now?"
Tommy nodded once..but he's not shivering! If he was cold, he'd be reacting, his body would strive to keep himself warm..unless..
Dream only looked away, finding this all weird.
Why was he even talking to him right now?
...
Why did he consider giving him a coat?
He was supposed to make his life miserable here..he's supposed to make his life a living hell..at the same time, what was the point of all that?
"I don't really know why I cried." Dream numbly admitted, his tone casual and disinterested, yet still, Tommy listened,
"I have nothing to cry about. Life is good right now: plotting revenge, making temporary allies. Am partaking in a lifelong study that would make me understand everything in this mysterious world. I'm..finally free."
He chuckled before peering at Tommy, "Unlike you."
He had expected a reaction, an inappropriate comment, he'd freak and go on all fight at him with irrationality and rage..but, he stayed still, looking at him, listening to him.
Dream never got that from Tommy..that full submission, did he fucking lose him?
"No one tried to look for you. I have observed that quite well. Phil and Techno are more eager in getting Ranboo back so they're more on looking for me than you. Tubbo's living peacefully with Michael now that he got him back. Badlands dealing with their personal conflicts. It's really funny from an outside perspective. Las Nevadas is expanding..which is fucking annoying.
"Dream SMP has been peaceful. Few fights here and there, but not as bad when you are there. Kinoko's starting to become a military kingdom, Sapnap's out there waiting to skin me alive."
He was about to mention one more thing, but the cat got his tongue, rendering him unable to speak. At least Tommy didn't push, but still his eyes are telling him to continue, eager to listen,
"You're fucking weird. Since when do you have the ability to listen instead of going off with that blabbering mouth of yours?"
Tommy showed no fear.
Back then, he'd be trembling in fear at every word Dream would say. Every word leads to a shake, a sentence leads to tremors, then it becomes something worse, which is something Dream would rather not think about,
"You fucking brat, where's your fucking attitude?"
Tommy only blinked, "How is George doing?"
"...what?"
"George. How is he doing?"
Dream frowned, a part of him wanted to strangle Tommy to death right now.
Why, he deserves it, he deserves after everything he did to him...Still, "He's alright, I guess. I don't know..Last time I heard about him, he has been sleeping for months now..He never woke up since."
That made Tommy blink,
"He's alive, he's definitely alive..but..he's just...asleep."
Tommy nodded and looked away, noticing that Dream finds talking about him uncomfortable,
"Do you miss..the old days, Tommy?"
He was probably seeing things when he saw a flicker of blue lingering on that boy's eyes, but it was gone before he knew it,
"Do you miss the old days, Dream?" He asked in return, facing him with a wide, blank stare.
Dream couldn't help but to laugh at what he had done.
His creation.
New but oh so broken.
"I would do anything just to bring it all back."
...
..
.
"Anything."