Is among us even still relevant? 🤪

Anyways I know it's been nearly 2 months since my last update but here's 44,000 words to make up for it. It's the most I've ever written for a oneshot and to say I'm pleased with this piece would be a under exaggeration.

Anyways, enjoy

⚠️⚠️There is a smut in this oneshot and the warning for the start will be marked by a 😳😳————😳😳 so if you don't want to read it then you can skip. It's descriptive, messy and uh...

Eggs

Also it's a little non-con sooooo⚠️⚠️

That's all folks

The Skeld was a feat of engineering genius. A giant hunk of curved metal hurtling through space at a pleasant speed of 200mph. It came equipped with a large cafeteria, reactor cores, med bays, horrifically tight spaced electrical fixtures, communications rooms and many more technical marvels.

The Skeld was launched from Earth on a mission. Find a new home. For millennia humans and monsters had poisoned the world we'd known and loved until it's very core was sick and coughing out clouds of death. To put it bluntly, Earth was on the brink of collapse, and by the crumbling government's statistics, they were lucky if they'd manage another thirty years. So operation SKELD was created. The "Stop Killing Earth's Life Division" (Creative, I know). A group of the worlds 'Greatest researchers' were plucked from their homes like crabs from the ocean floor and thrust into government top secret plans.

They had been chosen from places all over the world, across the six remaining continents (Australia had been the first to crumble, being swallowed up by the ocean in a timescale of three days) selected by their superiors to be Earth's last fighting hope at finding a new home.

Thousands of prototype ships had been made, but The Skeld was the greatest so far. It had the capacity to hold up to thirty thousand people in each, with a maximum of forty thousand at a stretch. It was no secret that not enough would be made to save all of Earth, some would be left to die. Natural selection.

But the ship sent out to space last month of June 2094 wasn't as big as the prototypes, instead being around 50 times smaller to make space navigation and travel easier. Instead of 30,000, thirteen astronauts hurtled into space with the quintessentially most important mission the world has ever faced; save their species from extinction.

Day 33 was blooming with a sunset-barren morning and no birdsong. The lights in the barracks flickered above and harsh beams split through the darkness to slam against the cold metal plated floor before spilling out to flood every surface it could.

Simultaneous groans rang out and Cross rolled over, shoving his face into his pillow to allow himself another few sweet and brief moments of darkness. Days started the same every day. Lights would automatically switch on at 7:00AM and you'd have half an hour to freshen up and get into uniform before breakfast in the cafeteria. After eating there would be tasks to do, always tasks. Electrics would have a fault, navigation would be off from space turbulence, the reactor core would need to be carefully checked. The government had been in a rush when they'd built the Skeld; not everything was performing at 100% capacity. So therefore every day little things would have to be adjusted to keep everything running smoothly. It was vary rare for large problems to arise, but they'd experienced the occasional O2 panic or near reactor meltdown.

Lunch would happen in the cafeteria at 1:00PM and then it was either back to doing tasks or time to relax and do as you pleased, such as staring out into space from the navigation room, or filling in word searches (after the 132nd one they start to become unbearable). The day would drag out from there until Dinner and then it was up to you when to sleep. Some would be passed out in their bunks by 8:00PM after a particularly strenuous day of labour intensive tasks, whereas other crew mates could still be wandering the corridors way after midnight.

Creaks and grumbles sounded from the bunk above and our protagonist managed to drag his face from the dull comfort of his scratchy pillow to watch as the bare skeletal feet of his bunkmate sank onto the cold metal of the slightly unstable ladder they kept saying they'd tighten the screws for.

Lust was his name. He'd been plucked from his daily retreat of a dark bar by superficial looking men in black and never looked back. He was a specialist in electronics and had been one of the main developers in creating The Skeld - an early recruit. He'd been involved in creating the entire thing, inventing the failsafe reactor core cooler that could prevent a meltdown for a full thirty seconds incase complications lead to scrambled attempts to get there in time. He wasn't a shy skeleton to say the least, very much eager to talk about anything from the best brand of welding tool to others deepest darkest secrets. It looked like those purple tinted eyes had enough secrets hidden beside them to make him sick of such things.

Hopping down onto the floor he yawned, spine cracking in a collection of pops and scraping noises that made Cross' skull itch. He rubbed at his eye sockets lazily before flinging his personal storage closet open, the lazy murmur of a country song leaving his lips to drift across the awakening bunkers. Mornings often started like this, Lust up first, the others following. It was endearing, really, and they were yet to get tired of it.

For a brief moment he simply watched the American astronaut, pupils slowly focusing as his lazy mind shoved out the desire to sleep. And after another minute of laying there he finally forced himself to fling the blanket off and sit up, narrowly missing a scrape on his skull from the metal of the bunk above him.

Everyone else seemed to take that as their queue because within moments the room was filled with the silk sing of sheets and creaking metal fixtures that held them up at night. Trudging over to his storage closet he blearily shoved in the key and twisted, dragging the door open to stare up at the large 'hazmat suit' that they had to wear. It was large and chunky, giving off all the vibes you could ever want from old children's space shows or the first clip of the moon landing. The Skeld provided oxygen very well and was a reliable ship, but the suits were there incase of a hull breach, or a malfunction in O2 and also for mere extra protection. They had all came in different colours for otherwise no one for the life of them would know who the other was.

His suit was white. The classic and original colour white. Sure it was now more a stodgy grey because of how much work he'd done in in - kneeling in the grease of a leaky and sooty engine did no favours for him - but still, he thought it was the only appropriate colour to choose when given the choice.

Beside him Lust had already wriggled into his own puffy suit. At the start of the trip it had been an obnoxious neon pink, the kind that would send a halo glow around the corridors when the lights bounced off him right so you could always tell when he was coming. Now after days of wear and work, like Cross', it was fading a little. But not enough to stop it from being an eyesore.

Dragging himself inside he zipped up from crotch to neck and hastily swung on the heavy rucksack that contained emergency oxygen. Enough to last you three hours. They'd said in the safety briefing before they left earth. The time it takes to fix O2 is one hour, the time to fix a hull breach is three hours. So a squeeze. But it'll never happen. They'd said. God he hoped it were true. Dying in space wasn't really on his itinerary of 40 great things to do before you're 40 (he was currently 31).

Once checking all the tubes and wires were properly locked in place he tucked his helmet under his arm, stepping out of the bunker and letting the automated doors slide open. Most people preferred not to wear their helmets when they walked around, especially in the morning. There was no point in hooking them all up if you were simply going to take it back off as soon as you sat down to eat. But they were best worn doing tasks - Protection from a flying spark in electrical or a low hanging pipe.

The walk to the cafeteria was simple. Step out of the barracks, ten paces down the corridor, turn right and you're there. The location was simple to the point that there was no possible way to get lost going from their rooms to there. The cafeteria was the central hub of The Skeld, the largest room by far and great for a communal hub.

Circular tables dotted around the tiled flooring, each having a few desolate chairs pushed up to surround them. A slightly larger table stood in the centre of the room where no seats stood. A large red button sat fattly in the centre of the metal appliance, a rectangular glass box covering the top with yellow and black hazard tape running the perimeter. The words emergency button imprinted boldly. It was to only be pressed in, well, emergencies. No one had touched it yet, nothing really 'emergency worthy' had occurred. And he hoped it would stay that way.

Skirting around the first few tables he came to a stop at the automated bar, unpocketing his tablet. Everyone on the ship had one; it would display your daily tasks in the top corner and give you access to a birds-eye view of the ship which was a life saver for the first week. But now he was fairly certain he could travel the ship even when blindfolded - with a few guaranteed bumps and scrapes of course. Flicking through the menu options his finger landed on the colourful letters of "CAFETERIA", then selecting "BREAKFAST" and deliberating for a brief seven seconds before picking the usual. Hot chocolate, and toast with Nutella. The perfect space breakfast.

The metal hatch in front of him steamed for a moment and Cross lazily checked his suit for any rips or tears, the actions placid and unsuitably uncaring. Behind him a small and sleepy queue started to build up, other members of the crew now having a hunger for their breakfast.

After a full minute and thirteen seconds, the hatch popped open and a mug and plate rolled out, two slices of generously Nutella-coated toast displayed beside a steaming take away cup of hot chocolate.

Cross picked them up swiftly and retreated to one of the further tables to eat by himself, leaving room for Lust to step up to the hatch and order his usual yogurt and granola. Propping his feet up on the nearby empty chair he leaned back, eyes flickering over the ships inhabitants that wandered into the cafeteria with either sleepy posture or energised auras.

There were only thirteen workers on The Skeld, and ideally they'd all be equal friends and bare no enemies. But divides were inevitable. The crew had essentially split into three groups. The first being most resourceful three of the group - the ones that had taken up designated leader rolls for the ship, always making the big decisions. And then there was a group of six (sometimes five) that were the more lazy and unbothered members of the crew. The ones that would be most likely to blow up their oxygen tanks for fun perhaps. And then there were the three hard workers. They drifted in and out of different groups really, two favouring the troublemakers while the other preferred the leaders group.

Cross himself wasn't really sure which group he belonged in, mostly sticking to himself. But if he had to choose, he'd most likely join the misfits. The other cremates simply didn't sit well with him, being the unfavourable option. He watched passively as Lust wandered away from the breakfast hatch and the person behind took his place at the front of the queue, restating the cycle.

Munching into his toast the monochrome lazily watched the ripples in his hot chocolate, finding the way they petered out to the edge of the mug before bouncing back to the middle again the most interesting thing possible at that moment in time. He wasn't aware how long he'd been watching it until he found himself joined by the presence of two other Crewmates.

"Mind if we sit here?"

His pupils slowly flickered up to stare at them both, his teeth sinking into another bite of Nutella slathered toast. "Be my guest."

The two slumped down, one with a careful ease and the other with all the grace and decorum of a reversing dump truck without its wheels.

The more graceful of the two was Dust. A skeleton, like everyone else on the crew, and mostly silent. He'd said his home had been up on the boarders of Alaska - another country that was only years away from crumbling into the sea forever - when he'd received a visit from the men in dark suits with black suitcases. Before he'd been a self confessed alcoholic, not caring if he lived or died. But now he had a purpose and a job, and he was rather damn good at it. He specialised in the engineering sector, working in the lower engine to keep it running 24/7. He'd most likely already saved their lives twice after they nearly lost the entire lower engine due to a missed meteorite hit. Going sober had definitely put a dampening on his enthusiasm or efforts to talk to people and he was often in a fowl mood. But apparently he'd been like that when drunk anyway.

The less graceful one was Horror, a brute of a skeleton with the apparent brain cells of a Turkish delight. Mathematically and literately he was increasingly slow, dyslexic to the point where he had trouble spelling his own name on his government application form. But he was increasingly good at one thing, and that was shooting. The ship was equipped with a heavy set of artillery at the front which uses were reserved for blasting through asteroid fields. Horror was forever up there and was admittedly rather trigger happy, shooting into the empty space or floating rocks that would never be an issue for the ship anyway.

Apparently he'd been an axe thrower in his spare time back at home, having lived numerous jobs and lifestyles such as the circus, farm life, military and so on. The list would ramble on forever if you listened for long enough, and as Dust often said, some were more fantasy than fiction. Such as the time he allegedly wrestled with a bear while trying to take his kids to school. Yet again Dust was normally there to remind Horror that he'd never had kids. The skeleton would only wave them off with grumbles of ruined fun. Cross wasn't honestly sure if the brute was completely sane.

The skeleton wasn't impartial to either of them but he found their friendship rather endearing. He enjoyed Dust's silence and Horror was simply amusing to watch. As usual Horror would scoff his breakfast at a rate so fast it was a choking hazard, and then devour Dust's too while the older younger skeleton pretended not to notice and simply sipped from his cup of tea. He wasn't much of a food lover anyway.

After he was finished wiping the plates clean the brute's gaze wobbled over to rest on Cross' last half eaten piece of toast, but the monochrome was having none of it and rather indecently munched the rest before the other could even begin to let the question of "can I-?" leave his mouth.

Clearly disappointed, Horror grumbled and slumped against Dust rather dramatically, picking at bits of soot and muck from his suit and dropping it onto the floor. His friend payed no mind to what he was doing, only occasionally glancing down at him to make sure he wasn't chewing at fabric instead of cleaning it - Horror would eat the metal of the ship if he could.

Downing the last of his hot chocolate Cross muttered a goodbye, pushing himself to his feet and dumping the cup into the bin. It was time to get on with the day. Fixing the helmet over his skull he sighed, watching the slightly blue tinted glass screen of his helmet fog up for a moment before the internal mechanics cleared it up. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his tablet, tapping and logging in before his eyes flickered up to the top left side of his screen. Tasks.

Today's Tasks:
-Empty Garbage (0/2)
-Upload Admin (0/2)
-Fix Wiring (0/3)
-Reactor Fuel (0/1)

Staring at all of them distastefully he glanced back across the cafeteria to where one of the garbage chutes were. He'd leave that one till after everyone had eaten and all rubbish was in the bin. It made more sense to do so.

Readjusting the straps on his oxygen tank once more he trekked down the large cafeteria and stepped out the sliding doors, brushing past the admin centre where he could see someone already working. It wasn't hard to figure out who they were; the blinding colours of their suit was enough.

Ink was his name. He was self appointed leader of the entire Skeld investigation and took it upon himself to tell everyone what to do. He had a rather cold demeanour and an awfully dark humour that sometimes even made Cross cringe. Back in his home town of Italy Ink had been an artist in Venice, painting anything from landscapes, muses, people and architecture. He had actually been the one to come up with the first initial blueprints of the Skeld and proudly presented them to his leaders claiming he knew how to save their world from dying. Though oddly enough he didn't seem to really care about that now he was up on the Skeld, often calling in a little sing-song voice that he could see Earth crumbling behind them from the navigation wide screen. Of course he couldn't really, Earth was millions and millions of miles away.

He was one of the 'Big Three' members, in a tight triangle with two other members. And though Cross was certain everyone's relationships were supposed to be strictly professional, there'd been far too many times when both Ink and a certain other crew mate had been missing at dinner time. But Ink would only laugh and shrug it off if asked, giving some sarcastic comments about satire and then the conversation would be over.

They shared a brief glance at each other before Cross continued down the corridor and into the large storage facility. He wasn't much fond of Ink, finding the artist too egotistical for his taste. Turns out the feeling was mutual on both sides.

Pressing his hand against the cool of the wall Cross dragged his fingers over the metal panels, a tuneless hum leaving him as his eyes locked on the handle for the garbage chute. Stopping in front of it Cross wrenched the hatch open sharply, the handle banging against the wall with a sharp snap. Peering inside he squinted, checking that it was only the usual junk inside and nothing irregular. The wrappers of snack bars, paper plates, old and ruined shoes, lots and lots of leaves, the odd failed sample from the medical bay and so on.

Something gleamed from under the mess of leaves and he raised a brow, brushing a little away to get a better look. A diamond. Grumbling softly, he stretched his arm down into the chute, thankful that the suit eliminated the reeking odour. He had no clue why diamonds constantly ended up processed ready to be shot out into space, but it was getting boring. They were supposed to take as many samples back to Earth (if there was an Earth to come back to) to be analysed. But some funny clown clearly thought it was utterly hilarious to drop the odd diamond into the bins to be lost forever. A true comedian.

He suspected it was Killer.

Upon feeling his gloved fingers brush over the smooth structured surface he grasped the rare stone and pulled it free of the bin. He went to pocket it but paused, his mismatched pupils resting on the shining blue crystal. It looked surprisingly dirty. A black substance coated the lower half of it, sticking to the diamond and his fingers like glue. Carefully flexing his fingers he raised a brow and watched as the dusty grey tips of his suit slowly stained darker as the black slime seeped into the fibres.

Leaning over slowly he peered back into the garbage chute to take another look. It was quickly realised that the diamond wasn't the only thing stained by the alien liquid. The sides of the chute walls were lightly coated with a soft sheen of the black substance.

Cross wiped the diamond against the side of his suit trouser leg, ignoring the ugly stain it left as he slammed shut the hatch. Maybe later he'd go to the med bay and ask Sci to test the substance on his suit. He didn't think he'd bother really - it was most likely a condensation of an atmosphere bubble the ship had passed through. Nothing to worry about.

Shoving the diamond in his pocket he wrenched the hatch lever down, briefly glancing out the window to watch the leaves and trash float out into space, quickly being left behind them.

Empty Garbage (1/2)

Sighing lowly Cross blankly stared at his remaining tasks. The cafeteria was most likely emptying out now, so finishing off his garbage tasks would be natural. But out of the corner of his eye he could see the large red empty fuel can leaning up against the heavy boxes in front of him. He'd have to fill it to the brim and then lug it all the way to the reactor to fuel it back up and ensure that it didn't fail and blow them all up. Thought it was important, he wasn't quite in the mood to do it.

"Cross!"

The skeleton glanced over sharply to the corridor that lead from the cafeteria, staring in surprise to see a familiar short bodied skeleton in a cyan suit. Blue.

One of the more bearable of the big three, a friendly face that had no quarrel with anyone on the ship - except for the occasional scolding to Horror for being too trigger happy. His suit was already slightly soot covered, smudges covering his knees and hands. A toolbox swung from his hand, hammers, tweezers and pliers sticking out in rakish directions.

Pushing himself off of the wall Cross made his way over to the smaller skeleton. "Are you heading to electrical?"

"Yup!" He lifted the toolbox as if to demonstrate. "I've got lots of wires to fix and nooks and crannies to clean out - are you heading there too?"

For a moment he considered saying no and that he was just about to empty the second garbage chute. But then he reconsidered, nodding curtly. "Yeah, I am."

Electrical was the sort of place you wouldn't want to hang around in by yourself for too long. It had a sort of creepy vibe, one that makes a chill trickle down your spine. There wouldn't be any harm with going along with Blue, he'd be done soon enough and then head off to his next task with or without the smaller skeleton.

They walked together out of storage and along the corridor to electrical. Everyone was sure it was due to their own psychological nerves, but the lights along the corridor in this particular section of The Skeld seemed dimmer. It was most likely their own minds playing tricks on them - Blue had even once replaced the bulbs to no change - but it was still unnerving.

Turning the sharp right, the two crossed the boarder into electrical where the lights might as well have been non existent for it was so dark. Thankfully flashlights were equipped to the sides of their helmets and both flicked on simultaneously, lighting a shaky path before them.

Both stepped over to their respective tasks, Cross yanking open the panel of his choice to reveal the yellow, pink, red and blue wires all broken and tangled. Why the government hadn't invested in stronger wires Cross didn't know. Every time the ship experienced even the smallest amount of turbulence they'd snap and tangle beyond recognition until someone fixed them back together for the twentieth time that week. Grumbling to himself he started fiddling with the unrecognisable knot of wires, picking at it with his nimble fingers and steady hand.

Beside him Blue crouched down with his spanner, working at loosening one of the heavy panels and dragging it aside to look at the mass of switches behind it. Through the light bouncing off his helmet Blue's face was completely obscured from view, but he knew his expression would be twisted in concentration as he worked.

Blue was one of the two youngest members of the crew, not shy of having graduated from university with a degree in engineering. He'd joined the Royal Air Force for a while fixing up army planes for a while before his skills were caught by the government and he was hired to work on The Skeld. He was the best engineer on the ship, tasked with almost every mission that involved a spanner or a hammer. But he seemed to love his job and was overall very amiable, the kind of person who's happiness might become annoying to most. But Blue seemed to know just when to stop and most people on the ship were left without yet feeling any dislike for him.

Attention turning back to the wires he sighed, managing to ease the yellow one out of the messy knot. Then came pink and soon enough he was left tugging fruitlessly at the blue and red wires. He was 90% certain he was simply tangling them up more but he didn't feel like stepping back and reconsidering, and he definitely didn't feel like asking Blue for help.

Tugging and pulling and pushing and twisting he slowly started to undo the reef knots, figure eight knots and bow line knots - all the knots, you name them. It most likely took a whole ten minutes and by the time they were fully untangled Blue was finishing off his own task, wiping off the brown grease on his hands to the sides of his suit carelessly.

"Want me to wait for you?"

He waved a hand dismissively and shook his head. "Nah, go on ahead and finish your tasks I'm nearly done."

"Alright." He stood up straight with his toolbox in his grasp, giving a salute he most likely learned in the RAF. "I'm off to scan in Medbay now, see you round."

Cross watched as the skeleton stepped off round the corner and out into the corridors to do his next task. Left alone once more the monochrome turned his focus back to the wires which he quickly worked to solder together. It was a miracle they could be forced back together again anymore, they looked as if they could crumble like ashes in his grip.

Once double checking he hadn't accidentally connected a red and a pink he found himself satisfied and slammed the hatch back shut with a loud snap. He would be happy to leave electrical, wiping his gloves and spinning on his heels to the exit. He'd only made it around three steps before he nearly collided with another turning the corner, grunting in surprise as they briefly bumped and swerved off to the opposite sides.

"H-h-hey- wa-watch where y-y-y-you're going-" A voice spat at him.

Cross gave a sneer and tipped his head to the side as he stared at the dark green suited Crewmate that stood before him. "I'd say the same to you, Error."

The two glared at each other before the smaller hissed and turned to one of the panels and wrenched it off, letting the metal grid clatter to the floor in the manner of a child having a tantrum.

Error was a mess of an astronaut. He was claustrophobic, hated people, hated speaking, hated breathing too probably. He had the most irritating stutter, often having to restart his sentences so many times over that he'd simply given up talking unless absolutely necessary. How the government had found him Cross wasn't sure - he seemed like the sort of guy who would have lived in an underground bunker in his parents basement. His only perks was that he was a coms wiz-kid. He was the one who uploaded everything to their tablets every morning, searched through the system for faults and then immediately upload a task to each Crewmate until they'd all been balanced out to a mixture of long tasks, short tasks and regular ones. They should never take longer than a day overall to complete and the system worked well. So perhaps he shouldn't criticise him too much.

Cross stared distastefully at the skeleton's back for a moment longer before stepping out to leave once more. But no sooner than he had a sudden alarm started blaring and the lights around them flashed red.

"Wh-what-?"

He glanced back over at Error to see the introvert staring at his tablet in surprise. Pulling out his own one Cross blinked rapidly. The screen was a glaring red instead of the usual neutral blue, bold font words yelling "EMERGENCY MEETING - Proceed to Cafeteria immediately".

"...Someone pressed the button?" He stared out into the corridor in time to see a yellow suited Crewmate walk past quickly, their own tablet blaring red in their hands too.

"Wh-wha-what the h-h-hell do we do?" Error muttered before giving a shriek of distaste as Cross grabbed him by the back of his oxygen tank.

"We go to the Cafeteria, idiot." Dragging the struggling man-child behind him he joined strides with Lust who seemed equally surprised, fixing his helmet on as he ran. For all they knew there could be a hull breach somewhere.

Their footsteps cracked like thunder beneath them as they hurried through storage and past Admin where Ink was was removing his feet from the desk in his reclined position on the chair and now marched over to join them on the short walk up to the cafeteria.

Most of the others were already there aside Horror and Dust who joined them within a matter of mere seconds, both as perplexed as the rest of them as everyone's gaze rested on the same person.

Blue. He stood by the centre table, trembling like an overriding reactor. His hand was still pressed on the big red button, arm strained and tensed as if everyone would leave the moment he stopped pressure on it. His helmet was removed, slowly prompting others to do the same as that confirmed the problem couldn't be a hull breach. Oxygen was fine. The skeleton looked deathly sick, his pupils pinpricks as they flickered over each of them.

Shouldering his way through Ink hissed at people to step aside until he reached Blue, pulling his hand off of the button and gripping his shoulders. He spoke in a hushed murmur, thumbs wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from Blue's eye sockets. His words were hushed, but everyone could work out at least one phrase.

"Blue, tell me what happened."

The astronaut inhaled sharply, his voice catching in his throat for a moment before he spoke, voice strangled. "I-It's Sci-H-He's dead-"

A low hush swept across the room like an icy wave, any murmurs stopping abruptly as everyone stared at Blue. It was life a switch had been flicked in the room, all mouths either sealed shut or wide in silent surprise.

Ink's brows furrowed and a dark shadow passed across his face as he gripped the smaller tighter, letting him push his face into his chest. "Where is he?"

Blue's fingers curled into the fabric of the taller's suit and he gulped down air shakily, shoulders shuddering with every breath. A few hiccupy attempts to speak left him before he finally managed to force out the words.

"Med-m-med bay-"

There was no hesitation in the room after those words were spoken. Everyone turned to face the corridor that lead off to the medical bay, positions poised before the clump of heavy footsteps deafened the room, people rushing away from the table in a scramble to reach the bay.

Leading the way was Dream, the third of the big three. He had equal authority to Ink and a temper often fowl despite the positive colour of his yellow suit. His main sector of work was usually in security where he'd monitor everyone's location and make sure they were doing their tasks. But that was a very lax job so he occasionally worked in the O2 room, making sure the air quality was up to check and that none of the chutes were clogged up with leaves, or anything that could damage. Otherwise he was lurking around Navigation where one of his favoured crewmates worked.

He didn't speak much of his past, but he knew that the skeleton had been the CEO of a business before joining The Skeld crew. It was the business that had provided all the O2 filters for the ship and had an increasing success down in Earth because of the plummeting oxygen levels. Schools, houses, businesses and all sorts would buy his technology to keep the air sweet and fresh - a lie behind a crippling truth.

Cross assumed the golden skeleton had been lavished with all sorts of helpers and secretaries, used to being listened to - and to be fair, people did listen. Dream also didn't need worry about no longer having anyone around to do his bidding, as another one of the Crewmates seemed to have self appointed themselves as his personal assistant, never leaving his side.

His red suit hurried along beside Dream, glued tightly to his side as they marched down the corridor. Killer was his name. He was possibly the second shortest Crewmate on the ship and the second most annoying. Actually scratch that - the most annoying. He was also fairly fresh out of University, and had a handy knack of developing research on echolocation mapping. Similar to how near-blind bats can navigate through pitch black caves, Killer knew how to make the ship travel through the endless void of space. He was supposed to keep an eye on their direction in Navigations, but Cross often found himself tasked to go into the empty room and readjust their course after the wheel had been knocked wonky. What he'd been doing up there with Dream to manage that, he didn't want to know.

Cross matched their pace as they lurched round the corner and past the open doors to the medical bay, all freezing up as they crowded at the entrance to stare at the crime scene before them.

He had never really known Sci personally. He was a weedy nerd of a man with poor long distance vision and poor communication skills. A constant wreck and nervous mess around anyone and anything that didn't involve science. At the cafeteria he could be literally shaking as he ate his soup, yet then once he'd delved into the safety of his medical samples he was a different person. Zero shakes, no stutters, and no sense of social inferiority. He could actually be seen to tell Dream or Ink what to do a few times, though apologies came after. He liked to engross himself in his work and if he had his own way Cross wouldn't be surprised if he'd be happier sleeping in the medical beds instead of his own bunk.

He'd been in with the Government from the very start; the kid of one of the high up officials in the workspace. He'd been born and raised into The Skeld project, learning about space matter and plants and samples from the moment he could read the letters of the alphabet. Most of it had been done in isolation or with other 'scientific geniuses', so in short, Sci has always thought of most the others here to be idiots. He had always believed that the crew of The Skeld should consist of all scientists and those who had been trained from the age of children. But the Government didn't have that sort of time or money so he had to make do with the crew of 'noisy nuisances' as he liked to call them.

But it seemed he would have to put up with them anymore - or well, they wouldn't have to put up with him.

Sci's body lay sprawled across the floor, his helmet removed and thrown or knocked to roll until it rested against the metal leg of a bed, the glass smashed and fragmented, scattered across the room. The scientist's body seemed twisted and stiff, like an action man doll who's joints were forced into the wrong positions a few to many times. His neck was craned back in an odd angle and his frame convulsed inwards on itself, stuck in a half fetal position.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Green veins seeped across his bones like vines, twisting around the visible white at his neck and clawing up to his jaw where it tangled through his mandible. It coated his lime suit too, running all over it like kids at a park in some sickly display, the lines getting thicker as they lead back up to his desk where the casing of one of his space samples lay open. The green tendrils spilled from it like rats from a sewer, falling off of the desk and twisting around the chair, stretching all the way to the floor before they found Sci's body. It looked as if they had strangled him.

"Everyone step aside- step aside!" Ink's voice yelled out and Cross found himself pushed away to let the lead skeleton in while Lust took over the task of comforting Blue.

The rainbow-suited skeleton carefully stepped towards the body, his boots stopping just shy of where the green tendrils came to a stop on the floor. "Dream. Get everyone out of here and then bring Dust over. He knows more about this shit than we do."

The skeleton in the yellow suit nodded curtly and barked orders, dragging everyone away from the med bay and hissing for them to get back to the cafeteria. He reached out and grabbed Dust by the arm, muttering words only they could hear before they both disappeared into the room with Ink, the doors sliding shut behind them with a cold metallic clunk.

Stumbling beside Horror he heard the other mutter under his breath. "Damn scientist let one of his little plants go out of control, huh?"

A snicker sounded and Killer popped up beside them, his helmet removed to show his blank eye sockets dripping dark tears. "He was always rambling on about how careless we were- and now he's the one that ends up dead from stupidity-!"

His comment resulted in a sharp slap across the back of his skull from Dream and the skeleton whined with a scoff before falling silent at a hissed command.

"I think it was murder."

Conversations ceased and heads turned to look at the one who spoke, Dream's brows furrowing with a scowl. "Don't be stupid, Nightmare."

Even through the dark tinted glass of his helmet Cross could see the skeleton's white grin. "What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking."

Nightmare was a Crewmate Cross would describe as.. unique. He didn't have any particular sector he specialised in like the rest of them, laying his job tasks out across the entire sector of the ship. He'd apparently been the CEO of a rival company to Dream's, funding near billions of pounds into The Skeld project. His only condition for being so generous was that he could join the mission, wanting to mark his brand on the 'New Earth' they'd find. Cross had seen him skulking around many times during their brief training at the NASA headquarters, forever observing.

He kept to himself mostly, silent and judging. The misfit group seemed to somewhat admire him, looking up to him as a leader who had no interest in his role. He took his time with his tasks and seemed to only ever drink coffee - Cross couldn't actually recall the last time he'd seen the skeleton eat at the cafeteria. In fact, he was sure that Nightmare took his food back to eat in their bunks or took it to eat on the job as he worked around the ship.

"It wasn't murder." Dream sneered and removed his helmet to breath in deeply as if to calm himself. "He wasn't careful enough with one of his samples, that's all."

"Not careful? Sci was the most careful person here." Lust muttered, his arms draped around Blue who had started to calm down now, sobs reduced to sniffles.

A wave of silence washed over them and even Dream didn't have a response to that. Everyone knew what Lust said was right; Sci was the most careful person anyone had ever met. He was the sort of guy that would check his oxygen tubes weren't tangled five times before he could even think of going for breakfast. But an accident was what the incident had to have been. He simply wasn't careful. Careless.

"Just- just get back to work, all of you-" Dream spat, his eyes lingering on Nightmare a little longer than the others before he fixed his helmet back on and marched off towards Navigation, Killer hot on his heels.

Murmurs petered across the room but the conversations slowly died out as people dispersed, heading back to do their tasks with a sort of unease. He noticed that Horror and Dust - who had returned med bay alone - stuck together now, likewise with Dream and Killer and Lust and Blue. Pairings were clearly the preferred option of choice. They were all spooked.

Stepping away from the table Cross slowly made his way over to the second garbage chute, his eyes wandering over everyone else. They may have tried to debunk Sci's death as a careless accident, but tensions were high and it was safe to say that not everyone was convinced.

He caught sight of a pair of Crewmates slipping off in the direction of the upper engine, Suits purple and grey. Grey was Geno, an old university Lecturer that specialised in space and it's unknowns. He'd taught for six years about what could be out there, who could be out there. In his life he'd completed an entourage of admirable feats such as assisting in the building of a rocket and even setting foot on the moon nine years ago when he used to work for NASA instead of Cambridge University in England. He mostly worked on the piping in the ship, checking the plumbing was up to standard and the filters that pumped oxygen into their non-existent lungs. He hated talking to people, preferring to stay alone and by himself when he worked, ate and slept. Socialising wasn't a word in his dictionary.

Purple was Reaper, one of Geno's top ex-students. He'd been out of Uni for years now, but would forever relate to Geno as his 'favourite teacher' along with numerous other things. He was a lazy and laid back skeleton, but very efficient with his work. He mostly worked in either engines, keeping the fuel up and making sure they weren't using too much power at one time and other essentials. But when he wasn't working he was bothering Geno, forever trailing after him and never getting the hint that the taller wanted him gone. Even after being whacked across the back of the skull with a pipe he didn't stop.

They made small talk as they left, glancing briefly at the closed doors to med bay before they descended out of his vision.

Gripping onto the overflowing bin beside the chute he wrenched the door open and shoved the contents inside, shaking the metal trash can until all of it had tumbled out into the chute, ready to be lost into space. He didn't both much to check for diamonds this time, a brief sweeping glance being his only conformation. He wasn't in the right state of mind or mood to be fishing around in that right now.

As he slammed the hatch shut and pulled down the lever he listened to the soft beep of his tablet conforming a task was completed.

Empty Garbage (2/2) ✅

"Two more wire fixings, upload admin, and reactor fuel." Cross muttered under his breath as he recited the tasks and stared out the thick glass window in the cafeteria, watching the trash he'd ejected float out into space.

"Do you often talk to yourself when alone?"

A voice made him start and he turned quickly, eyes narrowing sharply as he saw the figure leant against the door. Nightmare.

"Yeah, all the time, actually." He shot him a withering glare upon noticing that the doorway he stood at was the very one he needed to go through to get to weapons and download the data for Admin. For a brief moment he considered doing a long loop through storage and past shields, skimming over navigation and O2 along the way. But then he shook his head and inwardly scoffed. There was nothing wrong with simply walking past Nightmare; he may be rich and powerful back on Earth, but they were all equally helpless and trapped up in space.

Stepping over to him quickly he pulled out his tablet, staring at its sleek surface instead of the tinted glass of Nightmare'a helmet. The taller watched as he walked past and chuckled lowly, peeling himself off of the wall to follow. "It gets lonely up in space, don't you think?"

Cross ignored him, thankful for the sight of both Horror and Dust in the weapons room as he entered. He didn't fancy being alone in any room with Nightmare. The two were avidly watching for asteroids, Horror being situated on the large chair and slumped back into it, fingers hovering over the triggers to fire. Dust stood behind the chair, lazily scanning the empty void before them to spot a rogue rock or debri.

Slipping past them both Cross grabbed the transfer wire sticking from the wall and shoved the corresponding end into his tablet to upload all the info from yesterday to the device. Once uploaded to admin it would be stored in a critical data base recording their entire journey. He half expected to hear Nightmare make a low comment behind his back but when he glanced over he found the skeleton had disappeared, leaving him alone with Horror and Dust. It wasn't like he was disappointed, he didn't quite trust the guy. Certainly not with his life in any case.

Murmurs from Horror and Dust reached his 'ears' and for a moment he removed his helmet, pretending to wipe away a smudge as he listened to the quieter skeleton speak.

"Ink thinks it's suspicious.." Was the first mutter he heard, followed by an unintelligible grumble from Horror that the other dismissed. "No, were not assuming... but we can't rule it out..."

Due to the softness of their voices it was hard to hear much and Cross glared at the screen showing his percentage of download slowly increase. What was suspicious? Sci's death? That being the only thing he could think of, he concluded it was so. But was it only suspicious because the reasonable explanation was that Sci had been careless?

A soft beep rang out to signal the download was done and Cross unplugged his tablet, shoving it back into his pocket and tucking his helmet under his arm as he went back into the cafeteria, feeling eyes on his back. The ship was tense, as if it too knew of the sins that had been committed within the boundaries of its walls.

Turning the corner to admin he slowed, the mutter of voices clear down the hallway. Cross slowed down until he'd reached a complete stop, his brows furrowing as he listened.

"The latch was broken by force.." one murmured softly. "The creature would have got him when he'd turned his back..."

Pressing back against the wall he tipped his head to the side, listening in as the familiar voice of Dream spoke up now. He must have left navigation. "The species was dangerous, he always locked them when not in use."

Ink's voice sliced through the air sharply, a grave tone to it as he spoke. "They aren't strong enough to break out themselves, which means someone opened the latch..."

"...Sci would never be stupid enough to leave it open with his back turned."

"Exactly."

As Cross listened he caught sight of a figure sat on one of the many boxes, eyes narrowing at the sight. Killer sat there with his head tipped to the side and one hand cupped around the side of his mouth, ready to elevate a shout of alarm that the conversation was being listened into. Of course Dream would leave his guard dog outside.

Shooting him a glare that Killer only grinned at Cross cursed and stepped round the corner into the admin room, attempting his very best to look inconspicuous.

The conversation stopped immediately and Cross only allowed a brief look to see who it consisted off. Ink and Dream; as he'd assumed, but also Error. The jumpy skeleton was sat in the corner of the room, twitching in agitation with an anxious look on his face. Plugging his tablet into the wall Cross resisted the urge to tap his foot, instead listening to the agitated drum of Dream's fingers. Both their eyes were burning into him, he could feel it. But he kept at a right angle to them, expression neutral as the green line slowly crept towards 100%.

"Did you see anything, Cross?"

The monochrome was torn from his fixation of the tablet and twisted his neck to glance at Ink briefly. "Excuse me?"

"Did you see anything suspicious, earlier, I mean." He leaned forwards on his chair, elbows resting on the table sharply.

"No. I was in electrical with Blue, and then Error when the alarm went off." He shared a brief glance to the crewmate who only nodded curtly, as if reminding himself where he had been.

"So no one acting odd or out of place?" His words were slow and deliberate, as if he were talking to a guilty child. It made him cringe.

"I thought you were treating the death as an accident."

A grin slowly spread across the artist's face and he rested his chin on the knuckles of his hands as he tipped his head to the side. "We are."

The beep of completion rang out and Cross gave Ink a narrow stare before he unplugged the tablet and shoved it into his pocket and stepped back, turning on his heels to leave.

"Just keep an eye out." Ink called behind him. "Always check who you're alone in a room with."

The words made him shiver and his gaze quickly slid to Killer who was still sat on the boxes in storage, an amused look on his face. "Don't worry about me Crossy, I'm not going to kill you."

The crewmate scoffed and stepped over to him quickly, making the tear-stained skeleton sit up a little straighter, fingers twitching as if ready to pull out a knife. "You might not, but I'll kill you if I find you've thrown one more diamond in the trash-" He reached into his pocket and pulled out the one he'd retrieved from earlier, shoving it into Killer's chest. "Take it back to where it should go. Now."

He fumbled to catch the diamond and groaned, staring at it distastefully afterwards. "It was fun while it lasted I guess. Did you find it funny?"

"Go."

Muttering under his breath Killer rolled his eyes and jumped off of the box, his gaze briefly resting on the garbage chute.

"Even attempt to do so and you'll be the one being ejected out into space." Cross growled.

"Woah- hey, hey, relax, I was just thinking about it. I wasn't actually going to." He snickered and picked his helmet up from beside him, fixing it on carelessly before he threw the diamond in the air and caught it. "Tell Dream where I'm going, will ya?"

"He'll have no trouble finding you whether I do or don't." He shook his head and turned, leaving Killer to snicker to himself and head off back to put the diamond where it belonged.

God he hated that kid.

Shoving his hands into his pockets he marched down the hallway, past the empty communications bay and towards the shields. He didn't feel like completing his tasks now - no one did. The question briefly occurred to him of why he hadn't started the reactor fuel task when he had been in storage and he stopped in the middle of the corridor, fingers fidgeting. Hopefully Killer would be gone by now.

Giving a loud sigh he turned on his heels once more and sulked back into storage, glad to see the tear-stained skeleton nowhere in sight. He slowed to a stop in front of the large and heavy gas carton, eyeing up the scratched and dented corners along with the faded colour of the plastic. It had seen better days - being dragged across the not-so-smooth floor back and forth every day by different people didn't do it much favours.

Reaching out to grab the handle firmly he grit his teeth. He just wanted the day to be over with.

—————

Everyone had been shifty all day. Sci's death had really thrown the ship off balance and it showed. Dinner time was divided; one half to one area of the cafeteria, and one to the other side, like a pack of rival wolves thrown into a cage that were scoping each other out.

Ink, Dream and Blue were sat at one end of the cafeteria, with the addition of Dust who they'd stollen away from the other side. They spoke in low murmurs as they ate, though ate isn't really the word. None of them had touched their food.

The rest of the ship were crowded round a table slightly too small to fit their capacity, eyes glued on the big three as if they were hawks eyeing up a tasty rodent. Horror seemed the only one truly unbothered, currently shovelling as much food as he could down his throat at a rate so fast he might have choked. Without the usual scolding of Dust, no one stopped him. Not even when he started snatching pieces of meat from Nightmare's plate. Though when he attempted to do the same with Killer he found himself slapped around the back of the skull.

"What do they want Dust for?" Lust muttered, staring over at them with narrowed eyes. "Do they think he did it or something?"

Error scoffed and shook his head. "N-n-no, it's b-beca-ause he used to- used to be th-the chief detective at- at his o-o-old job at his pr-precinct."

It might have been the most words the glitch had ever said in one go and it caught everyone's attention, even Horror paused his inhaling of food to glance over.

"He was a detective?" Killer snickered and raised a brow, clearly finding the new information incredibly amusing.

"I-I-It was years a-ago, before- before he w-was sacked for- for- for corrupt d-dealings." Error muttered as he shrank down in his seat, looking like he wanted to disappear. He hated people looking at him.

"Really? Well that's interesting." Lust swirled his decaf coffee around in his mug, sipping at it slowly. "Looks like they're not being entirely truthful with us then - with the whole 'it was a carless accident' thing. If they're trying to bring up Dust's old detective past, then something is definitely afoot."

Murmurs of agreement ripples across the table and once again eyes rested on the table across from them in the cafeteria silently.

"You know what I think-" Horror spoke for the first time, swallowing the large chunk of meat he'd been chewing through the conversation. "I think we need a distraction from all this-"

Cross rose a brow sharply as he stared at him, placing his empty cup down. "And what exactly do you propose?"

Horror wiped his mouth none-too-neatly on a tissue napkin and stretched his arms above his skull. "I was lookin' though storage earlier, doing my tasks and stuff, and I found some objects."

Killer rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "What kind of objects?"

Horror scratched at his eye socket in a sickly manner for a moment before giving a toothy grin. "Hats n' stuff."

Lust blinked softly, seemingly amused by the answer. "Hats? What do you mean by hats?"

"Look- follow me and I'll show ya." Horror stood up from the table with a grunt, earning a sideways glance from Ink as he motioned did the others to follow. "I'm not going to attack you guys, don't look so wary- c'mon."

Sighing lowly Killer got to his feet and dumped his left over food in the bin. "It's not like we've got anything better to do before bed."

Soon enough Lust had got up by Horror and Killer's side and Error groaned before doing the same.

Cross glanced at Nightmare, feeling his eye on him. "Are you going?"

The dark skeleton gave a short laugh and stared up at the ceiling in thought for a moment. "Watching them make fools of themselves will surely be entertaining, don't you think?"

The monochrome felt a slight chuckle form on his lips and he nodded, getting up in sync with the other Crewmate, ignoring his mockingly gentleman-like gesture of a hand. "If it's boring I'll just go to bed I suppose."

"How inspiring." Nightmare's voice was dry as he stepped after the others who all flocked off to storage behind Horror, looking like an odd group of space pilgrims. He could occasionally find himself forgetting that they were hundreds of thousands of miles away from Earth, hurtling through space at breakneck speeds and instead imagine they were just a bunch of academically smart yet mentally stupid friends.

Slipping out of the cafeteria Cross watched as Horror and killer started to clamber up the stacked boxes in storage, Lust calling out warnings every time the structure would wobble precariously, looking like it was about to give way.

"They were up here somewhere-" Horror grunted before perking up with a grin, his bloody pupil sparkling in childish excitement. "AhA-"

Nightmare stood beside him as he watched Horror scrabble to one of the buried boxes, his hands scooping at the contents until it all came tumbling down in a rockfall. Squeaks and bumps and clatters rang out as object fell to the floor at their feet.

Lust was the first to step forwards, his foot lightly pushing at the contents before him in confusion. Staring up at him with plastic matt eyes was a slightly deflated, fluorescent pink pool ring. It was small in diameter and circumference and was styled in the shape of a rather shocked looking flamingo. Nearly all the air had fled from it, leaving the poor bird with a bent and floppy neck to accompany a wobbly structure. Leaning down he picked it up before looking upwards to Horror who was currently placing a cowboy hat atop his skull.

"...Why are these on the ship-?"

Horror barked a laugh and shrugged as he snatched the flamingo from Lust's grasp. He uncapped the air valve and pumped four large breaths into it until the pool ring had its signature shape back once more. "Who cares, it's fun."

Lust blinked rapidly as Horror placed the rubber ring around his helmet, squeezing it down so it stayed on tight. "It matches your suit-" He snickered at the sight of his Crewmate with such a ridiculous hat resting round his head.

The pink skeleton tried to peer up at the hat but found with the angle of the glass he couldn't really, only catching a glimpse of its wonky neck if he rolled his eyes right back. "Alright- well- I'm not the only one that's going to look like an idiot with a hat on-"

Bending over he picked up a slightly crumpled party hat and stepped over to Horror, snapping the string around the chin of the suit before letting that hat slap to his helmet at a jaunty and bent angle.

Through the glass of his suit Horror could be seen grinning widely, his crooked teeth gleaming under the lights above. "Everyone pick a hat!"

When no one moved Horror groaned and picked up a rather stiff looking roll of toilet paper and before Error had time to screech a protest it was shoved onto his helmet where worryingly it stuck rather firm. A little train of the toilet paper fluttered out behind him dramatically and Horror was left in a wheezing fit, comparing him through kettle-sounding whistles that he looked like a princess.

Horror's laugh was the sort that was slightly contagious and soon enough Lust was giggling along, his hands pressed over the little speaker in his suit to try muffle the noise. Killer was also laughing freely, sat atop one of the boxes and swinging his legs back and forth freely. Even Cross found himself smiling a little, the corners of his mouth twitching. And when he glanced at Nightmare, he could see the white of the others teeth.

It was a nice distraction.

Crouching down he stared at the different hats on display before he fished out a bedraggled bakers hat, the classic high and pointy ones. Turning it over in his hands he smirked lightly; he'd always wanted to be a baker when he was younger, and he couldn't for the life of him remember why. He was the sort of guy that could burn water.

Above him Killer rooted though the boxes until he found one of those fake and plastic pot plants, deciding to balance that on his head for now with a laugh so genuine it could surprise. They were having fun. In spite of a death on the ship, Horror's little suggestion had successfully distracted them and the heavy tension that had weighed down on them earlier was starting to lift. It felt good.

The tear stained skeleton perked up at the sound of another Crewmate entering the scene and scrabbled down from the boxes while snatching another hat from the floor and trotting over - somehow the plant stayed on his head.

"What on Earth are you all doing?" The low tone of Dream's voice prompted everyone to look over and the yellow suited skeleton stared back at them, perplexed and tired by the prospect of seeing his Crewmates with party hats, toilet paper, leaves and inflatable flamingos on their helmets. He eyed up the pot plant on Killer's head sceptically.

"We got bored." Was the smaller's simple response as he placed the hat he'd grabbed onto Dream's helmet. It was a dull and scratched halo. Perhaps at one time it might have had golden dust stuck to its surface, but now that was all gone and it was left a cheep yellow colour. Still, the colour didn't take away from Killer's profound hilarity in the subject as he giggled away, one hand up to steady his little pot plant.

"You look even more beautiful like that, angel~" He cooed.

If anyone else had said it he was sure Dream would have bitten them, maybe even stabbed them. But of course Killer was a soft spot for the yellow skeleton and he allowed it for a full five seconds before he took the halo off and dropped it to the floor. "Watch your mouth, boy."

Even through the glass of his suit Cross could see Killer's delighted grin and softly flushed cheeks, but he payed no mind to their foreplay, now looking back to see Lust had fixed a pair of rams horns to Nightmare's helmet. He was surprised the darker skeleton had allowed it, shooting him a wide grin that was hardly reciprocated. Feeling left out, he carefully placed his baker's hat over his skull, laughing softly as he looked at all the others around him. They were so so far from home, isolated up here.

Yet he found he wasn't missing Earth at all.

—————

Despite the fun distraction from earlier the ship was tense as they settled down for the night. Everyone was a little jumpy, hanging back if others were alone in an area or muttering warnings to anyone that happened to wander too close.

Cross had just finished brushing his teeth and was currently in the process of wiggling out of his suit, dumping it carelessly in his closet-locker and leaving himself in the loose shorts and shirt he wore underneath to stop the suits frantic from chafing his bones. Glancing around lazily he saw most the others were in similar attire to him now and everyone was accounted for.

Ink was sat up on his top bunk, scribbling away at a sketch pad as always with the same blank look on his face, occasionally glancing around. He assumed he was drawing the room. Error sat in the bunk beneath him, tapping away at his phone silently. There was no service or WiFi up in space, so phones were only good for photos or video games now. Cross didn't bother with either. Horror was already passed out asleep in his bunk, snoring away with his hand draping over the side to brush the floor. Above him Dust sat silent, head resting on his knees. He often seemed to think like that, curled up as small as possible while mumbling nonsense. The crew had learned it was best to leave him alone.

Killer's bunk was empty. As he did most nights he sat with Dream, slumped against the yellow skeleton sleepily while he mumbled tales of his past life. Dream would listen and nod, one hand lazily squeezing the smaller's shoulder in a comforting manner. He might have not even been listening to a single word the skeleton rambled on about, but it seemed he was taking it in.

Blue had fallen asleep early too in the bottom bunk, curled up under the blankets. The bed above him lay empty and cold. Sci's bed. No one had mentioned anything but they'd all stared at the neatly made sheets for a while, thinking of how the scientist would be forever scribbling down logs about the day's findings and experiments. Someone else would have to do that now.

Geno was staring blankly at the wall with his signature blank expression, fingers fiddling with the sheets beneath him. He completely ignored Reaper who waffled on about nonsense from the bunk above him, leaning right down to stare at the moody skeleton better.

As Cross settled down in his bottom bunk Lust clambered up on top, flopping down with a low groan as he rubbed at his eyes. "Let's hope the next day brings us better prospects. We're going to need them."

A rumble of agreement came from the others and Cross yawned, his gaze lazily resting on Nightmare who was laid out nicely on his bunk, a book in his hand. The cyan pupil dragged over the words quickly, so fast that he wasn't even sure he was taking the words in. For a brief moment he looked up and they locked eyes, holding. Cross looked away first.

He eventually decided there was no point in dwelling on the day and settled down under the blankets of his bunk, eyes resting on the slight sagging indent in the mattress to show Lust's petite figure pressing slight weight above him.

Just like he did every night before bed in the Skeld he slid his hand under the cool of his pillow to drag out the carefully folded photo he kept hidden there. It was a small one, a Polaroid picture of him, his brother and friends grinning widely as if it wasn't the end of the world. They'd taken that a week before he'd gone up in the ship. He'd most likely never see them again. His thumb traced over the creases with a sigh and he closed his eyes, thinking for a moment of what his family could possibly be up to. Papyrus would still be helping people in need of shelter and food, Chara and Frisk would still be fighting like they had the rest of their lives to live. And X? Well, he could burn in hell for all he cared.

He gripped onto the photo for a moment longer than he should have before he shoved it back under his pillow, curling up a little with the pillow under his skull, comfy.

It wasn't long before sleep took him.

—————

Cross awoke to the sound of a yell. It was a sharp, horrified and twisted yell, one that screamed danger.

The barracks became alive with noise and Cross sat up sharply, vision blurry as he watched Lust stagger into the room, Horror by his side. They looked shocked, as if someone had been ejected out into space by accident in front of them. Glancing around sluggishly he realised everyone else was already in their suits and jumping to their feet. He'd overslept.

Staggering from the bottom bunk he dragged himself to the door, ignoring a sharp growl from Nightmare as their shoulders briefly made contact in a none-too-soft bump. "What's happening-?" He slurred through sleep-weary speech, not caring for the life of him that he was still in his sleepwear. Something had gone wrong.

"It's- it's Blue-" Lust whimpered, a violently shaking hand pressed over his mouth to try stop the hiccups and sobs. He'd never seen the man so scared.

As the group rounded the corner to the cafeteria the first row stopped, causing minor collisions as Cross walked squarely into Dream's firm back. Surprisingly he wasn't hissed at or given a snarky comment; he was met with silence.

Within three short seconds Ink had strode into the cafeteria and Cross pushed himself up onto his toes, finally able to see what all the commotion was about.

Blue was dead.

The small Crewmate's body lay crumpled across the main cafeteria table, his body pressed against the emergency button that was blaring loudly. How had he not noticed that when he'd gotten out of bed? His cyan suit had been torn from his body and juts of bloodied bone stuck up from his chest in ragged formation, puncturing all the way up from his chest to his neck. His chest was a mess of blood, half his rib cage torn off and flung across the red floor. His eyes were wide and blank, mouth open in a desperate silent scream nobody had heard.

Ink's footsteps were slow as he narrowed the distance between himself and Blue's body, his expression blank and cold as he carefully took the hand of the lifeless Crewmate and held it with the uttermost delicacy, as if he'd crumble to dust right there before them all.

Dream was the next to stumble over, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks as he looked at the mauled body of his friend. "Blue-"

Cross' gaze swept across the others and yet no one reciprocated it, only having eyes for the body in the centre of the room. Blue. Happy, amiable, positive Blue. The boy that wouldn't have hurt a fly, the youngest on the ship, the one that had the most to live for. He was gone.

Ink's voice was cold as he spoke, fingers twitching as they let Blue's hand fall limply and knock against the table with a crack that had everyone flinching. "Crewmates.." He murmured.

"It appears there is an impostor among us.."

Dream's fists clenched sharply and he grit his teeth as his gaze shot back to stab into everyone else, looking for any sign of regret in the Crewmate's eyes. Yet he was met with shocked, scared or blank expressions. "Everyone, back to your bunks."

The result wasn't immediate and it took another sharp shout from Dream to prompt them to actually stumble backwards, turning back to their sleeping quarters with wide eyes and frantic murmurs. Craning his neck back Cross looked to see Dream and Blue stood over Blue's body, Killer hurrying over to the yellow skeleton's side while Ink beckoned over Dust. He caught one last glimpse at their grave faces before the doors to the cafeteria slid shut tightly, blocking them out.

"There's a murderer on the ship-!" Lust cried out shrilly, his hand clutching his chest as he stumbled into their bunks and slumped on Cross' bed. He didn't complain. "First Sci- and now B-Blue- We're all as good as dead-!"

Hisses and whispers ripples through them all as they stared at Lust, watching the skeleton hide his face in his hands. "Sci's death wasn't an accident at all.." He muttered, voice heavy with despair. "The impostor just wanted it to seem like it was. It looks like they weren't going for the same attempt with Blue."

A claustrophobic silence lingered in the air before Geno spoke up, his back resting against the wall. "You really think someone on this ship is a murderer?"

That earned a sneer from Error. "Wh-Wh-what else, idiot? How are- are you going t-t-to claim it's as-as any-thing different?"

There was no answer to that and the glitch scoffed, sitting down on Ink's bunk with a groan. "And n-n-now no one trust-trusts each other."

Glancing around sharply Cross could confirm. Everyone was either distanced from each other or pressed against someone they trusted, giving others accusatory looks. For whatever reason Cross found himself lightly brushing arms with Nightmare, his expression blank as the taller briefly looked at him. He probably wasn't the safest or people to stick too, and if it were down to him to accuse accounts of murder, he'd most certainly pick Nightmare. Or Horror, or Dust, or Reaper or Ink- yeah, maybe there were more candidates than he'd first considered.

"We can't do much until the Boss' both come back and tell us what we're going to do." Horror grumbled, hands pushed into his pockets. He seemed at a loss of what to do without Dust around with him and the bunker seemed a lot quieter without Killer's quipped and snarky comments. It was awkward. No one spoke.

Taking the opportunity to change Cross slipped into his space suit, zipping it up hastily and fixing his helmet on over his head, fiddling with the O2 pipes until they were correctly attached. It was hard to believe that a mere 12 hours ago they were all laughing and mocking each other as they balanced stupid hats and fake plants on their heads. Reality had come crashing back down really fast.

—————

Ink anxiously clicked at his ballpoint pen over and over, eyes fidgety as they stared at the notepad before him. He sat atop one of the cafeteria tables, legs crossed beneath him as he stared at Blue's body. He himself had never particularly felt the desire for friendship or such fond tendencies towards other people. Such trivial nonsenses would always end up in betrayal, regret, or upset. But Blue had wiggled past his iron walls and nestled himself up nicely in his social space. Blue had been a good guy, he didn't deserve death.

His mood was now fowl and he knew it was most likely going to get worse. Opposite him Dream sat on an opposite table, eyes narrowed as he watched Dust inspect Blue's body. He had been closer to Blue than Ink himself had been and had known the small Crewmate better than most others. It had hit him hard. Killer sat slumped beside him, looking bored as he picked some remaining soil from last night off of his helmet. He didn't seem bothered by Blue's death at all, seeming rather tired with the whole ordeal in fact.

To be frank, Ink disliked Killer. He was a brat of a man and was an irritating distraction to Dream. If he had to count the amount of times that little Navs pilot had dragged Dream away from his work like a whining puppy he'd gave to count all ten of his fingers, all nine of his toes (one was lost long ago) and then start to count his ribs too. Killer was in short, a pest. He wouldn't have minded if it were him that lay crippled over the emergency button instead of Blue. Though upon consideration he realised that would most likely lead to Dream working even less than before.

Dragging his focus from the two sickly 'friends' he let his cold gaze rest on Dust who looked up to meet it. "Well?"

The skeleton coughed and pushed his hands into his pockets. "It's no accident - if that's what you're asking. This was murder, definite."

The pen in his hand splintered slightly, ink splattering over his sketchbook in an ugly stain. "Murder." The word felt sharp and plosive on his tongue, a deadly honey that became addictive to some, bitter to others.

"...Any idea who?" The word was careful and calculated.

Dust's response was even more so. "Well, I do have one lead."

"Go on." He leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees and chin placed on his knuckles. "I'm listening."

"Well.. I found interesting abrasions on his bones." He muttered, indicating for the artist to come look as he pointed at what was left of the Crewmate's mangled spine. "The marks left on his bones look like they were done by something fleshy, not by bone or any sort of weapon."

Eyes trailing over the marks Ink tipped his head to the side with a soft incline. "What are you trying to say?"

Swallowing curtly Dust stood up a little straighter and glanced between the four of them. "I don't believe the impostor on this ship is entirely from Earth."

A heavy silence lingered in the air for a moment before Dream spoke, voice full of disbelief. "Are you trying to claim that there is an alien on our ship among us?"

Dust gave a loose shrug. "That's my current only explanation. I know it sounds stupid but look - we're thousands of miles into deep space, where even our strongest satellites on Earth have never reached. Maybe we never got a response of terrestrial life before, but that doesn't mean that they don't exist."

Once again the room went silent and Ink found himself being looked to by the others for an order on what to do next. For a moment, he hit a blank. What should they do? Narrowing down who the impostor was would he no easy task, and screwing up would be a bad idea.

Despite the immense graveness of the situation Ink found himself smirking behind his hand, fingers dipping into the sloppy ink that messed up his page, dragging it around further to ruin the previous sketch.

"...Med bay scan."

Dream rose a brow sharply and leaned back in his seat. "Elaborate."

"When you're scanned in med bay, it doesn't only check your health, but also your height, gender, blood type and.."

"-Species." Dream finishes for him, interest peeking up. "Do you really think that could work?"

The artist stood up and pushed his hands into his suit pockets, leaving his ruined sketchbook discarded on the table. "Only one way to find out. It's better than doing nothing and then sitting like hard boiled eggs waiting for the next spoon to crack us open."

Nudging Killer the yellow Crewmate stood up, his partner by his side. "When should we schedule this for?"

"Soon." Was the curt response. "Once we clear Sci's and Blue's bodies."

They'd kept Sci's body at the scene of the crime before for inspection, but now they knew Blue's death was murder it was easy to conclude Sci's had been a well disguised cover up too. But why would the killer go through such effort to cover up one death but not the other? That's what was playing on his mind. The impostor was playing with them.

"The bodies can be stored in the lower floor of the ship. It's not dignified for them, but we can keep them safe and undisturbed until we can give them the proper send off they deserve when we reach home."

If we reach home.

—————

Sighing lowly Ink stepped out of the cafeteria, watching as Dream headed off to the security cams with Killer close on his heels. They'd decided it was a good idea to keep their attention on the cremates through security, just in case they spotted something suspicious or in need of reporting.

While Dust worked on setting up the Med-Bay scanner to get it to standard they had decided they would let the Crewmates get back to work. The ship might very well fall apart if they didn't. But the rule was that they had to stick in groups of three, two at minimum - though he didn't recommend it.

Stepping to the barracks door he clicked the bones in his fingers a few times, expression blank as the doors slid open to reveal the hunched Crewmates from within. All attention was on him in mere seconds and he stared impassively at all of them. "Reaper, we'll be needing your help with... the body."

The purple suited skeleton had never kept secret his fascination with the dead, and often told stories to unwilling subjects about the times when at university he worked as a lab tech assistant and loved nothing more than cutting up or disposing of subjects the teaching class would be dissecting. There was no need to request with caution, he knew the creep would jump to the occasion. He wondered if he'd ever had experience in clearing up bodies before. The question was pushed away, fast.

Rising to his feet Reaper gave a quick nod and Ink stepped aside to let him pass before addressing the remaining crew. "We are taking measures to catch the culprit of these.. unfortunate circumstances. But those won't be able to be enforced until  later this evening. So for now you shall go back to work to ensure this battered ship doesn't drop dead and we all die. You shall stick in groups of three and never, under any circumstances, leave them."

Blank expressions stared back at him and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Nightmare, Cross, Lust. You're a trio, stick with it. Geno, Horror, you'll be joined by Reaper when he's finished."

He was met by no complaint and he nodded. "Error, you'll be with me."

The dark bones skeleton glanced over at him and they held each other's gazes for a moment before Error pushed himself to his feet. "A-alRight."

Shuffling rang out as everyone moved to their new designated groups, soft and gruff murmurs shared between them. Cross stepped to Nightmare' side and Lust joined, making a crude joke about the height differences between the three of them. Geno gave Horror a wary and narrow eyed look but stepped over with no verbal protest, though his body language said enough. The larger skeleton didn't seem very impressed either.

Snapping his fingers sharply Ink tilted his head in inclination for Error to follow him and the smaller hurriedly did as he was instructed. They both took the long route to circle around to weapons instead of passing through the cafeteria to avoid intruding on Reaper's grim work. Neither of them spoke as they walked, travelling in a subdued silence that seemed favourable to them both in the situation.

The two passed O2 and navigation, brushing over shields before they finally came to communications, Error's expertise and work space. The artist sat himself down on a chair in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest and feet propped up on the coms desk. He knew very well the action set Error on edge with his OCD, and usually he'd be more cautious towards that. But today he wasn't in the mood.

Easing himself down into his chair the glitchy skeleton flexed his fingers, donning the chunky black headphones he would always wear when he worked. His nimble hands worked quickly across the display of buttons, switches, screens, levers and handles. He worked fast to send out tasks to the trios and pairs that were steadily dissipating across the ship. Error found himself working in silence. Usually, that would be a blessing to him as he hated the racket of chatter and noise; but to have Ink so silent next to him? It was unnerving.

Eventually it was the artist who broke the silence.

"I'll need you to work on something."

Error paused his work and casually shifted the headphones to rest on his shoulders, spinning  in the office chair to face him. "What-what might that be?"

He always found his voice glitching less when he was around Ink, a rather pathetic discovery he thought to himself miserably. He sorely hoped that the other hadn't noticed it.

"Killer was proposing a system," He cringed at the thought of listening to any of that man's suggestions "One where a screen can display everyone's locations at once. We link trackers to their tablets and then can monitor where they all are. It's an easy way to make sure they stay in their groups and we can catch if any stray to do something sus."

The smaller listened silently before nodding. "That should be- be possible, yeah. I-I-Ican work on- that."

"Good."

"...What's su-sus?" Error thought back to what he'd said, raising a brow in mild confusion.

"Suspicious." He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I have a had habit of shortening words, as you know. And I forget how to spell such long words."

Giving a snicker he nodded and sank into his chair. "Y-Yeah, what was the other ab-abbreviation you- you came uP with the other- other day?"

"It's already fled my mind." He admitted truthfully.

"I-I think you- you shortened Paintbrush t-to PB and Dream kept- kept asking asking why you wanted pe-eanut butter." That made him snort and he ended up pressing a hand over his mouth to muffle the awful noise.

Rolling his eyes sharply he shook his head. "I wish you hadn't reminded me."

"It was funny." He muttered, not processing that he'd gone through an entire sentence without stuttering for once.

"I'm sure it was." He nodded and shook his head in dismissal. "Anyways, get back to work, this ship won't run itself."

"aye aye c-captain." He muttered, spinning back in his chair with a shake of his head and a lazy out of tune hum. He soon found the silent company of Ink as being a comfort. Well, it was nice knowing that with Ink with him; no impostor of any sort would come to kill him while they were together. Or at least he hoped so-

"S-so, what are you- you planning?"

"With the impostor?" He yawned softly and reached for his sketchbook only to scowl in annoyance as he saw it had fallen to the floor. Stretching down he picked it up, sighing at the sight of the ink blotched pages. "Well, we'll send everyone through the med bay scan first. Dust seems to think the impostor may be non-human." He avoided the word alien. "So we're clinging to the pathetic hope that maybe the impostor may be exposed through their scan results."

"Inter-esting." He muttered softly. "And if-if it doesn't-n't work?"

"Then we resort to profiling." He tapped at his sketchbook with his knuckles before tossing it to the jumpy skeleton who fumbled to catch it, possibly creasing a few pages in the heat of the hurried panic.

Once he'd got his hands securely on the book he looked at the first page displayed for him. The title was clear in bold:

Name: Cross
Age: 31
Hostility: 7/10

There was numerous info written about the skeleton, scribbled down facts scrawled across the plain paper in slightly wobbly lines. It included background info, personality traits and even the usual places that the skeleton would hang out. People he talked to had been tracked down and at the bottom of the page lay a page with the word alibi scrawled down with plenty of space for writing.

Raising a brow in confusion he flicked over to the next page and shifted to get comfortable. The next one went as so:

Name: Horror
Age: 42
Hostility: 8/10

Similar information was written down about the skeleton and he flicked through page after page to read more profiles.

Dust, Nightmare, Lust, Dream, Killer.

They were all there, even a sketched picture of himself stared up from the page at him. He looked bored. "Oh you d-don't think it could possibly be me- be me, do you?"

Ink gave him a lazy smirk and an infuriatingly attractive wink. "Everyone is a suspect, my dear."

"Yeah, well in that case there has to be a profile on you." He held out a hand and Ink blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"Give-give me a p-pencil. I know- know you have one, bastard." He clicked impatiently and after a brief moment Ink laughed, tossing him one.

"Should I strike a pose?"

"Not if-if you want-want your limbs to look-look like they're f-from a giraffe with a-scoliosis-" He scoffed as he caught it neatly. He was rather pleased he hadn't dropped it, but the artist hadn't seemed to notice.

This time the laugh that came from him was genuine and Error found his cheeks turning an infuriating shade of blue. Pulling his knees up to his chest and covering his face with the notebook he inwardly cursed to himself. Damn his laugh.

The pencil in his hand shook a little as he tried to calm his teenage-hormone-like thoughts. Once pulling himself together he pressed the graphite tip against the paper, writing the Captain's name in his slightly rugged handwriting.

Ink

Now then, what to write. He uncertainly wrote the number 34 for age before smirking as he wrote down his hostility as a three. He knew it was quite the opposite really, but poking fun at him was something he couldn't usually get away with, so he took the moment. Soon after he decided the first thing to do was scribble a messy, ugly and horrific portrait of the artist. Even though Ink hadn't struck a pose (thankfully) his limbs still looked like a giraffe with scoliosis. In fact he quickly felt like ripping the failure of a portrait out of the book and shoving it into his mouth before Ink could even hope of making fun of it. But he managed to restrain himself.

Soon later he had scrawled out messy annotations, making sure to include how moody, stubborn and annoying he could be (scribbling heavily over the annotation of "hot" he'd written by accident). For now he left a large blank under alibis, just as the others had been left.

"D-dOne."

Almost instantly the taller had sat up to attention, holding out a hand expectantly. "Let's see then."

Error was half way through passing it back to him before he decided that would be a horrid idea and he quickly shoved the notepad to his chest instead, scrabbling to rip the page out. "I-I changed- changed my-mY miNd-"

"What? That's not now it works, Error." Within a second he'd got to his feet and was stroking over to him, earning an alarmed shriek from Error who quickly started to tear the page out from the notebook. But before he could even hope to shove it in his mouth, chew and swallow, the other was looming sharply over him. A hand grasped his wrist holding the paper and he found it shoved against the back of his seat and a second hand shoved against his chest to keep him there.

Error's face flooded with colour and his mouth flopped open and closed like a fish, no sound leaving. Ink was mere centimetres away from him, that same damn smirk plastered on his face. He tried his best to keep the paper away from his grasp but knew that Ink would grab it. So he resorted to another shriek. He'd never been a fan of physical contact - in fact, he loathed it. The fabric of the suit helped a little, but the feeling of his wrist ensnared in someone else's grasp along with the pressure on his chest did cause him to hyperventilate a little.

For a moment he curiously thought Ink might jump on his lap to get the paper, but thankfully any chance of that was banished by a rather loud cough from the doorway.

Freezing up Error turned to see Dream stood in the doorway, Killer peering around at his side with both brows higher than ever before.

Ink's smirk dropped to a scowl and he snatched the paper from Error before standing up straight and releasing him. "What is it?"

Dream scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "We heard screaming. We thought someone else might have been murdered, so we came to check. But it looks like you're.. occupied with other things."

Error hissed in embarrassment and shook his head rapidly. "I-I was being hARassed-!"

"Mhm." Dream nodded dubiously and then cleared his throat once more. "Maybe do less harassing, and more profiling."

Of course Error didn't mention that profiling was what had provoked this harassment, scowling to himself as he turned on his seat quickly to face the coms board once more. No more distractions.

Ink didn't answer and Dream took that as compliance, glancing at Killer briefly. "Reaper is finished in the cafeteria, and Dust has the bay ready. I think it's time to gather everyone."

All eyes fixed on Error and he grumbled to himself, nodding as he send out a message to all the Crewmate's tablets.

Important: Report to medbay immediately.

It was time to catch an impostor.

—————

"Everybody form an orderly queue-!"

Dream's voice cut through the rumbled murmurs of the eleven remaining Crewmates, earning glances and the volume to elevate as they shuffled up against the corridor wall that branched out from the Cafeteria to Med bay.

Cross found himself sandwiched between Horror and Nightmare, his mouth pressed in a thin line as he stared into Med bay. Ink was stood by the large scanner, his expression blank while his hands clutched onto his sketchbook as they always did.

Upon clearing his throat the noise died down and Ink stepped forwards, speaking. "I won't bore you with the drably details - there's an impostor on this ship. An impostor who may or may not be from our world. Our simplest plan of action for now is to ask you to all submit a scan in front of everyone else so we can check if this theory is in fact true. What we'll do next still remains to be decided."

Snapping his fingers Ink beckoned for Dream and the yellow Crewmate stepped forwards and away from the others, planting himself firmly over the scanner that built up from the floor. Soft fizzes rang out before a green laser-light encircled him, dragging up his body in a slow and fluid moment, every point of his body marked by the grid like system. It swept up and down him twice before dissipating, loading.

After a brief moment Dream's tablet beeped softly and he held it up for everyone to see with a blank expression.

Name: Dream
Age: 34
Height: 6'1
Colour: Yellow
Species: Skeleton

Ink stared at the info for a long moment before writing down in his sketchbook, seemingly pleased with the result. "Each of you will scan now, when the results show up on your tablet you will present it to us and then we can move on."

Once Dream stepped down Killer hopped up, hands gripping onto his tablet as he watched the green lasers scan him up and down fluidly. It was a quick and harmless process, one that would hopefully expose an impostor.

Name: Killer
Age: 29
Height: 5'10
Colour: Red
Species: Skeleton

In front of him Horror was agitated, shifting from foot-to-foot as he watched the queue begin to dwindle down, Geno stepping up next. He scratched at his skull with his pointed fingers, faint grey marks raking across its rounded shape. He looked as if he were about to push someone aside and run. Constantly muttering under his breath to himself his body rippled with shudders and he appeared to be having a hard time keeping still.

Behind him Cross sent a brief glance at Nightmare who he found was also watching Horror with the same interest. There was a sort of gleam in his eye that in some sense felt dangerous. He subconsciously felt their shoulders brush and he narrowed his eyes, keeping vigil as Horror fumbled in his large pockets for his tablet. It was nearly his turn.

Ink too seemed to keep particular attention on Horror, his pencil hovering over his sketchbook and waiting to scribble something down.

The brute stumbled forwards at his turn, eyes flicking across his fellow Crewmates and received expectant looks in response. Shuffling a little closer he brought out his tablet, hunching over it as if he were a child not wanting their parent to see the naughty drawing they'd done.

And that's when the alarms started to blare.

The rather harsh white lighting from above was fractured by red, sirens wailing down the hallways like mice escaping a rock fall. The ship seemed to jolt in space, sending half of them sprawling across the floor.

Cross found himself colliding squarely with Nightmare's chest, grunting as he felt his elbow dig into his rib cage. Either the taller hadn't felt it or didn't care, because he didn't even glance at Cross, his cyan eye fixated on his tablet where the blaring words "Reactor Meltdown" were displayed in bold.

Cursing sharply he looked around to see everyone else staring at their screens in alarm. This had been the first meltdown in weeks.

Geno was the first to run from Med bay, dashing down the corridor that lead to the Upper Engine that would then branch down to Reactor. Second to follow him was Horror, his footsteps thumping heavily over the metal floor. For a brief moment it looked as if no one else would follow, yet Ink tore them out of their stunned trance with a yell for them to get moving, indicating furiously with his arms as he sprinted after the two Crewmates.

Cross staggered as a metallic screech erupted from deep in the ship, the floor screaming as the bolts keeping it together strained. They had to get there. He ran alongside Nightmare who seemed to glide more than hurry through the corridors, his expression so void of worry that he thought he might have even been excited.

Upon rounding the corner to the Upper engine he skidded to a stop just in time to see Horror and Geno slip inside, the doors slamming shut behind them before Ink could make it. He collided with metal, shouting a curse as his fist beat the door.

"The doors are shut-" Cross cursed. He had meant to direct the information at Nightmare, but upon turning around he realised the taller skeleton was gone, leaving him alone in the engine room with everyone else crowded down the corridor in front of him. "Nightmare-?"

He received no answer.

At the front Ink was shuffling from foot to foot impatiently, poised ready to jump in once the doors opened. Stopping a Reactor Meltdown was a two person job. It most often happened when faulty wires or pipes disrupted the Reactor Cycle and the stupid machine took it as an invitation to blow itself to smithereens. Two people would have to scan their hands on opposite ends of the room to stop the Reactor from killing them all. It was a job that only took around ten seconds if you were lucky, the issue was never really the fixing, but more the getting there in time. Yet even though two perfectly capable Crewmates were inside the room, the alarm was still blaring and the countdown plunged, just hitting 20.

"Open up-!" Ink called, his gaze flashing to Error who was hurrying to unlock the doors manually through his tablet, mouth twisted in a deep scowl. His fingers danced across the screen before he forcefully jabbed at a button, hopeful.

A protesting creek rang out before the doors snapped open sharply, sliding into the walls to reveal the reactor within.

Ink had only taken two marching steps before he froze, his hand held out to stop Error from stepping any further into the room.  The alarms were still blaring in an endless mantra of wails above them, yet it might as well have been empty ringing in their 'ears'.

Geno lay on the textured floor, dead. His body seemed twisted out of proportion and his neck was snapped at a wrong angle. His helmet stained with splashes of blood. His chest had been torn open in a similar manner to Blue's, a raking deep line slashing from his left shoulder to his right hip. It leaked blood freely, the pale grey of his suit stained an ugly brown with it that looked across the floor, curving around ridges in the plated metal like a new stream around pebbles.

Stood over him was Horror. His eyes were wide as he stared at them, fingers twitching and coated in blood. Body trembling, he took a step back and shook his head, words choking in his throat. "N-not me-"

But it was too late to try play innocent. Reaper stepped over with three large steps, a snarl leaving him as he picked up a wrench from the floor and swung it at Horror, the metal colliding squarely with his skull. The splintering crack would be a noise that would haunt all of them for years, along with the agonised wail that followed it. It was haunting, like a branch snapping from a tree before plummeting to the ground. And plummet he did.

Cross felt like he was in a daze as he watched Horror crumple to the ground, falling with shards of his own skull skidding across the floor and slipping in Geno's blood. He barely registered Lust and Dust stepping over quickly to stop the reactor from killing them all, their certified handprints faulting the countdown.

Above Horror Reaper panted, his eyes filled with rage as he tapped Horror's shattered skull with the wrench, mouth twisting.

"Found our filthy imposter."

————

When Horror awoke he found himself blinded by harsh lights, his eyes fluttering open briefly before squeezing shut right after, a warbled groan leaving him. His skull felt like it had been split open, knives digging into it and twisting deeper and deeper with each ragged breath he inhaled. It was excruciating, pathetic whimpers spilling from his mouth as he tried to curl in on himself. Yet he found that he couldn't.

Eyes widening he jumped, feeling his body jerk but not actually get anywhere. He felt tied, unable to wriggle or stand. "Wh-whA-?"

His voice was slurred and bubbly, as if functions of his brain weren't quite working to the normal standard. In fact, the longer he kept his eyes open, the more he realised that the left side of his vision was blurred and red, as if he were staring through a piece of crimson stained  glass.

"Don't try escape, Horror." Authoritative and sharp, the voice echoed across whatever room he was in, bouncing off of the walls before reverberating back to him.

Sharply wrenching his wrist Horror looked down in alarm to see that it indeed was tied down to a chair, twisted old black wire being the replacement for rope. They were tight and well bound, not budging or waning as he tugged at them rapidly. "Wh-whAT- what have you- you done to me-?"

He had tried his best to sound intimidating and angry but the words came out as a pitiful mewl, voice cracking and breaking in nearly every word.

A shadowy blob moved into his blotchy red vision and he strained his eyes as much as possible to figure out who they were. Purple..? Black..? No, definitely purple. Definitely purple. He found himself subconsciously pressing back further into his chair, an earthy grunt leaving him as something heavy and cold prodded bluntly at his chest.

"We've immobilised you." Was the simple response and Horror flinched upon feeling the heavy object press with more pressure against his bruised sternum. Groaning loudly he shifted, wanting to clutch his skull and feel it over, checking it was all still there - it felt like an entire chunk had been blown out, shattered all around him like a misfired paint ball.

What was happening?

Cross was silent as he stood next to Ink in the circle that surrounded Horror, his mouth pressed into a thin line. The skeleton was trembling in the seat he was tied to, his bones rattling as he groaned over and over, delirious and foggy.

"My head.." He mumbled, his voice no more than a corse whisper as he strained. "M-my head-" He repeated the words over and over, convulsing as his voice slowly escalated in volume. "M-my head- my head! M-my hEAD MY HEAD-! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HEAD-?!"

Reaper sneered as Horror choked and sobbed, unable to figure out why he hurt so much. He couldn't see what they saw; the gaping hole in his skull, splintered and smashed by Reaper when he'd bashed him with the wrench he still held in his hands. At least a quarter of his skull was missing, leaving a gagged void in the upper left half that cracked down to his eye socket where only one of his eye lights were working, looking bloody and diffused.

"Shut it." Reaper readjusted his grip on the wrench and shot him a deadly glare. "Unless you want me to do it for you."

"That's enough, Reaper."

Horror's focus jerked as he heard Dust's voice and he tried to throw himself from the seat with no success. "dUST-!" It was a strangled and animalistic cry. "Dust what- whats happening-? Wh-why are they doing-doing this to me-?!" The genuine confusion and panic in his voice made the blue suited skeleton wince. He didn't answer, looking weakly at Ink who stepped forwards.

"Horror." His voice made the skeleton stiffen and he tipped his head to the side, as if trying to see him better and was having difficulty in doing so. "I'm afraid the evidence against you is too high for us to let you roam free."

"Wh-what?" He twisted, seemingly unaware of the blood that stained his suit, the brown fabric dyed even darker.

"When you were detained you were stood over your fellow Crewmate, Geno's, body, covered in blood and with no one else in the room. You were witnessed to fail the Med bay scan, perhaps being responsible for the reactor meltdown that happened in rather conveniently close contacts to when you were up for the scan."

"Th-those are both coincidences!" He gasped, the wrists of his suit becoming frayed from his struggles against the rope. "I-I had nothing to do with those! I sweAR-!"

"Desperate words aren't legible without concrete proof." Ink shook his head. "As the situation stands, you are deemed guilty of committing three murders."

"NO!" The shout rang through the room and echoed, warning a flinch out of almost everyone. "Y-you have no proof-!"

"So far the evidence stands as so," Ink coughed as he turned over the pages of his notebook, eyes narrowed. "Sci's death of specific circumstances, you have no alibi."

Horror spluttered but Ink continued. "Blue's death, both you and Lust say you discovered the body, which means you can't deny being out of bed at early hours. Lust claims you woke him to sound the alarm so that still would have given you the time to perhaps drag Blue out of bed. Or maybe he figured out it was you and ran to sound the alarm before you killed him?"

"N-no I-" Once again he was cut off by Ink speaking.

"And then we found you covered in blood over Geno's body. Will you claim that you didn't kill him either?"

"YES! I ran to- to reactor with him- him, and then- I let the scanner register m-my hand, but Geno wouldn't do his s-side and when I turned back he was dead! I-I tried to stop the blood- and then- and then it didn't work! I-I swear I tried-!" His words were resorted to sobs as he stared at everyone with crazed looks, spit dribbling down his chin.

Ink waved his words away with a flick of his hand, expression solid and unaffected. "For the safety of my fellow Crewmates, I can't have you stay on this ship."

A deathly silence filtered over the room and everyone exchanged glances. Dust was the first to speak. "Can't have him on the ship? Ink, where are you going with this-"

The captain turned to lock gazes with him, the words plain and simple. "I propose we eject him."

"Eject-?" It took a few moments for the words to settle in before Horror started screaming. It was a curdling screech, the chair rocking from side to side as Ink stepped closer.

"NO NO NO NONONONONO-! YOU CAN'T-!"

"Nightmare, Reaper." Ink clicked at his side before jerking his head towards Horror.

The two dark skeletons shared a brief glance before stepping over slowly, earning a terrified wail from Horror as he rocked back and forth on the chair in desperation. They gripped his shoulders tightly and Nightmare pushed the helmet onto his suit, muffling the accused's shrieks.

Unbinding the ties they wrenched him to his feet, hardly giving the skeleton a chance to even try run as his feet were kicked out from beneath him. He writhed and jerked as he was dragged across the cafeteria floor towards a heavy looking doorway donned with a bar lock and hazard signs. The ejection room. It was supposedly designed as a way to get rid of rubbish or large objects that wouldn't fit into the garbage chutes. But it looked like Ink had a different idea on how to use it.

He wrenched the heavy door with a grunt, letting it swing open and hit against the wall with a bang that caused everyone to shift uncomfortably. They were all surprised at the turn of events, yet no one moved to stop them as Horror was forced closer to his demise. Even Dust hadn't moved yet, frozen as he watched his friend be forced to the room.

One harsh shove was all it took for Horror to go sprawling across the floor of the room, his head knocking against the floor and causing his helmet to skid off to the other side. He'd scrambled to his feet instantly but the door slammed shut too fast for him to manage, his hands slamming against the thick glass square to show inside.

His yells were muffled through the door but it was clear what he was saying. He was pleading, begging, desperate for them to change their minds and bring him back inside where he could sob onto the floor and thank them for their mercy.

But no mercy was offered.

Ink jabbed his fingers at the keypad beside the door to confirm and it was all certified within a moment . Horror had fifteen seconds before he'd be thrown out into space where his O2 tanks may last him three hours before he'd suffocate and die alone.

It was then that Dust seemed to realise the gravity of the situation. He stumbled to the door, his hands reflecting against Horror's through the glass as he yelled apologies and curses that Horror would never hear. His hands scrambled to rip the door back open but it wouldn't budge, even with Horror slamming his weight against it on the other side.

"Ink-" Dust's voice was panicked as he looked at him. "R-reverse the ejection- we- we can discuss this further I- we're making a mistake-" He'd never looked so desperate, locking eyes with Ink who only stared back.

"No." His voice had a new cruel twist to it and he stepped back, arms crossed over his chest. "There has been no mistake made."

Dust snarled and turned to face him fully. "I won't work for your little investigations anymore."

He shrugged. "You won't have to. We've caught the killer."

A mechanical droning beep rang out and Dust spun on his heels to watch the lights in the ejection room glow read, the doors leading out to space trembling. For a moment Horror held everyone's shocked gazes, his hands trembling as he fumbled to attach his helmet, nearly not doing it in time.

He only had time to raise a hand weakly, mouthing something that only Dust would see.

Take care of my kids when you get back.

And then the doors swung open and he was roughly jerked out, his body limp like a rag doll as he disappeared out into the black void of space.

They'd done it.

—————

It had been three days. No more deaths had occurred on the Skeld and it was starting to look like Ink had made the right decision. Sci's, Blue and Geno's bodies were modestly stored under the ship and their beds had been stripped and sheets folded up neatly. Most people were faring okay - apart from Dust. He didn't do his tasks anymore and sat in his bed of the cafeteria all day in a miserable mood, eyes forever staring at others accusingly. You're responsible for his death. That's what his eyes would say. He hadn't dealt with it very well, especially when he'd gone back to clean out Horror's locker and found a picture of the skeleton with his arms around two beaming young girls, a woman stood by his side. He hadn't stopped yelling and kicking things all day.

But things had started to cool down now and normality was resuming - as best as it possibly could. The first two days had been jerky and problematic, but sat three seemed to be when everyone sank back into their usual routines.

Yet grouping was even more divided than usual and Cross found himself spending most of his time with Nightmare. The dark skeleton was silent and stoic, but he soon came to the realisation that his dark humour was the same as his own. He'd now often pester Nightmare over what book he was reading or how to be successful with money like he was or things as silly as pet peeves or hates - there had been amused comments when Cross had expressed his disgust for cows. Maybe it was a little insensitive to be enjoying himself while Dust's best friend had been murdered, but it was an effective way of passing the time.

Currently they were both alone in the cafeteria, Nightmare sipping his coffee as he watched Cross demonstrate his knife skills with a wooden spoon (the metal cutlery and knives had been removed).

Lunch had ended twenty minutes ago but neither of them were too worried about continuing with their tasks. Cross had decided to demonstrate one of his few useful skills he'd picked up in life, and that had been knife work. Of course the display looked a little silly with a wooden spoon, but Nightmare lazily played along as Cross jabbed at his chest with the rounded end of the spoon.

"And now you'd be dead."

"How unfortunate." The dark skeleton slid a silk bookmark over the page of his book and closed it, eye fixed on the spoon pointed threateningly at him. "I would be the fourth body to be stored beneath this ship."

"Indeed." Cross nodded and pulled the spoon away, twisting it in his fingers. "Do you think Ink got the right person?"

Following the movements of the spoon Nightmare rose a brow. "Do you?"

Cross shrugged carelessly. "Well, the murders have stopped."

"For now."

Snickering softly Cross once more aimed the spoon at his chest, ready to flick it if necessary. "For all you know it could be me. We're both alone, I'm sure I could stab you and slip away without anyone noticing."

"Stab me... with the with the spoon?" The satire was clear in his voice and Cross' gaze dropped down to the spoon in his hands with a grunt.  "Maybe."

Nightmare shook his head slowly with a chuckle. "You're not the impostor, Cross."

"You don't know that." He threw the spoon, watching as it landed in the recycling bin with a satisfying clunk.

"No Cross, I do."

Turning to look back at him and smirked loosely and pushed his hands into his pockets. "Ah, you got me - I'm not the impostor."

"You aught to be careful about who you babble that nonsense too." Nightmare pushed himself to his feet and crumpled his empty coffee cup in his hand, dropping it in the bin as he walked past. "People might start making accusations."

Cross scrunched his nose a little at that comment before grabbing his helmet and following after him with a grumble. "Whatever." Were the words that left his mouth as he glanced at the trash can where Nightmare's coffee cup lay leaking the bitter liquid onto the other rubbish. "Do you even eat?"

"Hm?" He didn't even slow, marching towards the upper engine with only a slight indication of his skull to certify Cross could follow, which he did.

"I only ever see you drink coffee." It was true, he couldn't think of any time he'd seen the taller eating apart from the times where he'd take his food and slink off to somewhere private in the ship before he'd come back with an empty plate and tray.

"I'm not a fan of food." Was the simple reply. "The textures are all disappointingly wrong and discouraging."

The skeleton laughed at that and rolled his eyes. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone say something so weird."

"I'm flattered."

Following close behind him Cross stared at his back as he walked, one hand in his pocket while the other gripped his helmet close to his hip. "So, why did you join the Skeld team?"

A loud sigh left the skeleton in front of him and he stopped, causing the other to pause too. "Do you ever shut up?"

"No." He snorted. "When I was a kid I was the sort of student the teachers would see on the register and weep in dismay."

"Naturally." His voice was dry with boredom as he started to walk again. "How many schools were you expelled from?"

"Three." Cross puffed his chest out proudly and hummed, remembering the reasoning for each of them. Once for breaking Timothy Burrell's arm, a second time for instigating a large school fight that got his own fibula snapped, and a third time for being dared to put a goldfish in Mrs Avery's iced tea. He was homeschooled from then on. "What about you?"

"My parents tried to send me to school, I refused. Committed all sorts of atrocities until they gave in and let me be home schooled."

"Oh? How rebellious of you." He could already picture the image of a young teen demanding to be taught from home. "So how did a ragamuffin like you become the CEO of Joku industries?"

"When opportunities were presented, I took them. It was as easy as that." They found themselves headed down past reactor now, both of them glancing over to where they knew Geno's body had lay before. To the left there was movement in security and Cross briefly looked in to see Killer and Dream up to everything but viewing the cams. He slowed enough to register that they were both on the chair, Killer straddling Dream. The skeleton looked up for a moment and shot Cross a wink before the monochrome walked past fully with a shake of his head. "Opportunities? Sure."

They both ended up stopping at the lower engine where Nightmare stepped to the screen panel, assumedly to realign the power route, something that was often knocked off centre by small collisions that were missed by the cannons. The cannons Horror used to manage..

Frowning sharply Cross started to realise just how many people and positions they'd lost. Their top scientist, their top engineer, a resourceful Crewmate, their gunner. Others would have to take up their jobs in replacement, a prospect he didn't think many were ecstatic about. He would easily admit he didn't know any of the deceased very well, with Horror being the one he'd perhaps spoken to most. Yet as cold as it sounded, he didn't miss them much. Yes, the atmosphere had changed dramatically, but they were still functioning.

"Hey, Nightmare." He spoke, catching the other's attention who turned slowly to face him, a brow raised and mouth pressed in a passive line.

"What?"

For a brief moment he forgot where he was going with his sentence, feeling like the rest of the adjoining words had spilled from his mouth without a sound, using his tongue as a diving board to splash to the floor. He rarely got to see the dark skeleton without his helmet and he took a moment to appreciate it. He was better defined than the others, with shining white teeth and well cut cheekbones, sharp jaw. Occasionally skeletons could have soft curves to their features - like Blue, Horror and Error did. But like Dream, his features were sharp and sculpted, fitting to his job and persona.

"Well?" Tipping his head to the side Nightmare leaned closer to Cross, voice a low rumble that had him reeling. "I hope you're not waiting for me to kiss you, Cross."

The vulgar suggestion sent his cheeks flaring in embarrassment and he grunted with a shake of his head, stepping back. "You wish, I'm way out of your league."

"Without a doubt." He nodded with a smirk, a look that Cross didn't doubt had made business men severely anxious or secretaries swooning. "Perhaps another time."

"Sure." He brushed it off with a roll of his eyes and turned away to leave him. In the moment he'd completely forgotten what he was going to ask the taller in the first place. But it needn't matter now - If he'd forgotten it clearly couldn't have been important. "I'll be off to finish tasks - see you at dinner?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He sent the monochrome a mocking wave that was returned with the flick of a wrist as he watched the white suited skeleton turn into electrical, helmet and torch on.

Briefly he looked at the uncompleted task before him and chuckled, his eye flickering to the grated vent on the floor by his feet. Cross was quite a character. He was starting to like him.

—————

Electrical felt darker than usual, it's heavy aura weighting heavily on Cross' shoulders like a thick blanket that was far too large, swamping over him in a hug he'd never asked for in the first place. His torch felt weak as he stared at the wires, all the colours starting to blur together the longer he stared. It was his third and last task in electrical and the light of his bouncing torch was starting to make his eyes ache.

After completing the piteous task of diverting power to admin he'd had to jab at three buttons five times over and over to highlight a little ring that would light up when he got it spot on. What the reasoning for that task was he still didn't know. And now he was once again mistakenly trying to weld together the pink and red wire together. His eyesight admittedly wasn't incredible to start, but in the dark of electrical it went from mediocre to poor. Very poor.

Thankfully he'd already fixed the blue wires and yellow ones. Those weren't too hard to distinguish from, not at all. Adjusting the beam of his torch he narrowed his eyes and confidently grabbed onto both red wires before pausing at the sound of footsteps. They were slow and deliberate, plodding down the corridor in the direction of electrical. He knew quickly that it wasn't Nightmare coming to join him - his feet seemed to barely touch the floor when he walked, hardly creating a sound.

A soft glow lit up electrical and he raised a brow, pupils flicking over the soft pink highlights the wires and out-sticking consoles displayed. Turning on his heels he twisted to look behind him, gaze resting on the tall Crewmate that towered over him in his crouched position, a long wrench held tightly in their hands.

"..Lust-?"

There was a laugh and the skeleton deflated, falling into a cross legged position on the floor next to Cross with a grin. "How'd you know it would be me?"

He scoffed and turned back to the wires. "Your suit still lights up the room around you with that sickly glow."

Blinking in surprise Lust looked down at himself before around the room, noticing how his suit did indeed reflect light across the room in a dull sheen. "Oh? I guess you're right. That's interesting, I suppose."

Grunting in acknowledgement Cross nodded curtly and successfully welded both red wires together while Lust started to fiddle with the numerous panels to twist a knob, letting the power flow to the engine unblock.

It only took another five minutes before all the wires were welded securely and fixed together, not dissolving as he gave them an experimental tug. They wouldn't fall apart now. Well, until tomorrow of course; by then they'd have broken all over again.

"I'm done." He pushed himself to his feet and wiped his knees clean of dust and fruitlessly tried to get some of the oily grime off too. But it would just be another stain to add to his filthy suit. "I guess I'll see you around." He gave a wave to Lust and the pink skeleton threw up a lazy peace sign in response, fixed on his task instead of looking back at him.

Cross stepped around the corner with a yawn. His tasks were done today, he could laze around and relax now until dinner, which he believed was jacket potatoes with either tuna or beans and cheese. Personally he himself was usually more of a beans guy, but a switch up of tuna would be nice change maybe?

He'd just about made it to the door when he heard a metallic clang behind him followed by the scraping of something against the wall. His instincts yelled at him to keep walking and leave as fast as he could, but the other half of him was screaming. What was happening behind the corner-? It couldn't be anything bad, surely? They'd ejected Horror. They'd got the impostor.

Steeling his nerves he spun back around and quickly stepped back round the corner, Lust's name resting heavily on his tongue like a lump of sand. One he instantly swallowed.

The skeleton's body was constricted against the wall, bones snapped and out of place as he writhed, mouth open in a silent scream as his eyes locked on Cross. Black tar coated his body, pushing through every crevice and crack possible. It pooled through the gaps in his suit and spilled into his mouth, choking its way down his throat while he wailed in a shriek no one heard. The crunch of bones was audible and his body went limp, eye lights flickering for a moment before they went dull. His crippled body fell to the floor with a sickening crunch, bones buckling underneath him as he was reduced to noting more than a structureless sack.

The figure stood over him slowly turned, their blue eye resting on him coldly as the slime slowly seeped away from Lust to merge with his own body in the form of four dripping tentacles, rippling with thick muscles strong enough to snap a man's spine. He'd just seen it.

Stumbling backwards two of three steps Cross wheezed in an attempt to yell out. It was Nightmare. Nightmare was the imposter. They'd killed Horror- they'd ejected the wrong person.

He only made it four steps before the doors to electrical slammed shut in his face, leaving no chance to escape. "Oh god-" His voice was weak as he slowly turned back round, fingers splayed against the heavy door as he watched Nightmare stare at him.

"Why did you have to turn back, Cross?" The creature's voice was raspy and cold as he stepped forwards into the light of the Crewmate's bouncing torch.

His jaw was unhinged, stretched down to make room for hundreds of jagged and sharp pointed teeth that sprouted at rakish angles, speckles of blood staining their white complexion. His suit seemed to be taken over by a thick tar like slime that coated his entire body, dripping from his hands to the floor. It bore a similar resemblance to the slime he'd found in the storage chute at the beginning of this awful nightmare. As the creature stepped forwards he revealed a large split across his chest, a thick and fleshy tongue hanging from it that dragged behind him across the floor.

In that moment he could have fainted, yet his pumping adrenaline wouldn't allow it, forcing his blotchy vision to focus on Nightmare as he advanced. His knees felt useless and his body slowly sank to the floor, thumping against it with the rest of him following. This was actually how he was going to die.

"Oh Cross.." He murmured, stooping down to his level with a throaty hum. "Don't give me that disgusted look, I thought you'd understand."

"Understand-?" His voice sounded choked, as if he was fighting to be heard against a torrent of water. Understand what-? "You're- you're the impostor-!"

Tutting lowly Nightmare shook his head, a clawed fingers dragging slowly up the Monochrome's throat, enjoying the feeling of him swallowing. "I hate that word; impostor. I was invited onto this ship just like the rest of you, Cross."

His eyes never once left those fingers, fixed on them as they tapped at the side of his jaw. He couldn't care less whether he enjoyed the word or not. "So what now-? You kill me-?"

Nightmare's body rippled in a deep laugh, one that sent an icy prick across his bones. "Kill you? Oh, no, Cross, I wouldn't dream of killing you; you're my favourite~"

He felt something wet drag up his cheek and resisted the urge to gag as Nightmare licked up his jaw, vibrating with a low purr. "We're going to leave Lust's body, and we'll blame it on someone else."

"Are you crazy?!" He snarled before freezing up at the sound of banging on the other side of the door.

"Is anybody in there-? Open up!" A voice called and Nightmare shared a sly glance with Cross.

"You either do as I say, or get pinned for the blame." He slowly unfurled to his feet, those hideous tentacles melting into his back along with the rest of the slime to reveal his suit once more. "Genocide, or ejection. It's your choice, Cross."

As the taller slowly slipped back into the shadows Cross cursed, scrambling after him with his soul thundering in his ears. He was choosing to trust Nightmare- the impostor who could so easily kill him or frame him. He was betraying his crew. No sooner than he'd rounded the corner in electrical he heard the heavy mechanical thud of the doors opening once more and footsteps after.

He only had a moment to stare at Lust's deformed body before he heard the creek of a vent and something cold wrap around his waist. The next thing he knew he was crammed in a tight space, darkness overwhelming his body as his sides scraped against metal. It was far too tight and claustrophobic, yet when he went to yell out he found he couldn't.

"Shh.." Nightmare's voice murmured in his ear and Cross craned his neck back far enough to see his cyan eye staring delightfully at the soft chinks of light that filtered above them. A vent. They were in a vent.

There was a gasp overhead and the screech of a siren was heard not more than two seconds later. It sounded muted and warbled under the walls of metal, yet that didn't make it any less chilling. He soon found himself realising that they were both moving down the vent, his body being carried smoothly along by Nightmare's pulsing form. He felt like a leaf being carried by a colony of ants, suspended.

It only took around four seconds, four gasping seconds before he was thrown up out onto the cold familiar tiles of the Med Bay, a creak sounding behind him as the vent banged shut. He was given no time to relax before he was dragged to his feet by cold hands gripping his arms.

"Listen to me, Cross." Nightmare's voice was sharp as cider and cut through his foggy mind like a knife through butter. "You're going to play along and agree with everything I say, and you're going to play the part perfectly. Otherwise I will pin everything that happened in electrical on you, do you understand?"

It was all he could do to nod.

"Good." He fixed his helmet over his head before shoving Cross' on too and promptly stepping out to the corridor where they could see everyone else crowded around the main table in the Cafeteria.

The Crewmates barely spared them a glance of acknowledgement, all eyes focused on Error who gnawed at his knuckles anxiously, scuffing his feet. "L-Lust.. in- in eLectical-" His words were strained and forced. "H-Horror wasn't the-the-the impOstor-"

No one spoke for a full minute, all their minds only having room to think of how Horror had screamed and begged for them to have mercy on him, crying that it hadn't been him. And they'd thrown him out. They'd killed an innocent man.

Well, Cross' mind didn't really focus on that entirely. Mostly it was screaming at him that he was stood next to a murderer, the creature who had constructed and crushed Lust until his body had splintered to dust. He felt Nightmare's shoulder brush his side and he instinctively recoiled, stepping a little further away.

Ink was the first to break the silence, speaking up in a voice that earned flinches across the room. "We made a mistake with ejecting Horror, the grief and blame for that should settle on me."

Cross didn't think that would weigh down the Artist much at all.

"That's exactly why-" Dust started with narrowed eyes. "-We won't be ejecting anyone else out of this damn ship."

Half the Crewmates had began nodding in agreement before Ink cut them off with a barking laugh. "Don't be stupid Dust, we'd be letting the impostor reign free with an open invitation to slaughter us all of we did that."

Clenching his hand into a fist Dust hissed sharply. "Are you seriously proposing we eject another worker with the conscious knowledge we have a 1/8 chance of getting it right?"

A sort of ghostly grin stretched across the Captain's face. "Of course. Why wouldn't we? You're starting to sound awfully sus, Dust. Perhaps it was you who killed Lust in a twisted attempt to avenge Horror?"

The idea had his eyes go wide and he snarled. "Don't be fucking delusional, Ink."

The artist only hummed with a lazy shrug. "Then I say we have a vote. We plot a case for who we think is sus, and then whoever has the most votes is cast out of the ship for good."

That was met with mutters and shared glances while Ink chuckled, clearly waiting for his fellow workers start to launch themselves at each other with accusations.

"Error." When Nightmare spoke his voice was smooth, dripping with a deadly honey with a taste sweet with poison. Everyone looked. "You found the body, didn't you?" He murmured, eye staring him down.

Error raised a brow softly before giving a small and sharp nod. "Yes- I-I did-"

Resting his hand on the table and leaning forwards Nightmare stared. "What were you doing in electrical? You never leave coms, all your work is there."

Cross' spine prickled with dread as he watched a sickly smile form on Nightmare's face at the sight of Error's apparent spike in panic.

"I-I- I was checking every-everyone's work logs-! And I saw- saw that Lust had started a t-tAsk but not completed-ted it in five minutes- which is odd! S-sO I asked Ink and he told- told me to check-!" The worlds came tumbling out like a faulty vending machine.

The dark skeleton gave a patronising coo, his gaze sweeping to Ink. "Oh? So that means our beloved Captain can confirm that Error slunk off to electrical, can't you?"

When they looked to Ink they could see he was livid, brows furrowed as he stepped a little closer to Error.

Seeing the opportunity Dust spoke up too. "Error knows all our locations because of that little system he's been making for you, Ink. He would have known exactly when Lust was alone in electrical - the perfect time to strike."

"Nonono- I dIDN'T-!" Error screeched, his voice pitched and panicked as he took three steps backwards in alarm. "Y-yOu're ma-mAking it UP!" His desperation turned to Ink and the artist stared back at him blankly, perhaps a glimmer of emotion crossing his features. "InK- Ink t-Tell them they'RE WRONG-!"

But Ink didn't answer, his blood boiling as he watched Nightmare take out his tablet where the newly designed voting screen (created by Error ironically) had been uploaded. "I say we vote for Error."

Everyone's screens fizzled and within a moment a little tick appeared next to Nightmare's name. He'd voted. One sharp look was enough to make Cross pull out his own tablet, his breathing sharp and irregular as his thumb hovered over Error's name.

You're going to play along and agree with everything I say, and you're going to play the part perfectly. Otherwise I will pin everything that happened in electrical on you, do you understand?

Nightmare's words rang sharply in his mind and he shook his head softly before the phalange jabbed down, pressing on Error's name before he shoved the tablet back into his pocket. His stomach felt sick.

"Ink- Ink stOp thEM-" Error's voice rang out sharp and shrill, a horrific noise against the silence of the room.

The artist's tablet came into view and he watched them all carefully. "It isn't Error. I order you to vote skip."

Dust gave a loud and probing sneer at his words. "You can't order me shit, Ink. You tore my best friend from me, I'll tear your play thing away from you." Error's third vote had been selected.

"nO!" Error's fingers dug into Ink's sides as he hurriedly voted for skip on his own tablet before looking desperately at his other Crewmates.

Reaper hummed lowly, his fingers hovering over both options before his slender finger tapped on Error's name. He was Dust's friend and of course would take his side. And Cross suspected he was a sadist - he enjoyed seeing people ejected. "If I couldn't avenge Geno last time, I will today."

Killer and Dream were the last two needing to vote. It was down to them. If both voted skip, they would face a tie and no one would be ejected. But if either one of them voted for Error, the glitch would find himself thrown out of the ship and ejected.

Ink's gaze burned into Dream while the golden skeleton ignored him. He knew that If he voted skip Killer would follow his lead and do the same. He needed Dream to vote skip. They were turning his damn system against him.

Yet Dream didn't move to pull out his tablet. His gaze drifted across the room carelessly before he spoke. "You're all abusing this system to fight between each other like squabbling children. I won't vote."

Nightmare's lips twitched in a delighted smirk and he swept into a mocking bow. "Oh how noble of you, Dream. Yet by the voting statistics, Error still has the majority."

Dream merely shrugged.

Error gave an animal-like snarl and looked at Ink for him to revolt against their words and call off the vote. But the artist said nothing. His expression was blank as he stepped away from the green suited skeleton, eye sockets void of pupils.

"Very well then."

Error's voice pitched in a shriek as Reaper stepped over, Dust following with him. They both grasped him tightly, paying no regard to his phobia of touch as he was dragged from his spot and towards the ejection room.

The skeleton screamed bloody murder, telling them over and over that they'd got it all wrong and we're making a mistake. No one listened.

Cross didn't move or speak as he watched Error be dragged kicking and yelling to the room, his speech so warbled and broken that it was hard to make out what he was saying. Begging. That part was clear enough. Ugly tears fell from his cheeks and spit flew from his mouth. Like Horror had, Error seemed to become more of an animal when he pleaded for his life.

Yet like before Error was met by blank faces in the moment before he was thrown into the room, the door slamming shut sharply behind him, sealing his fate.

Ink seemed to consider his actions before he stepped to the door, his hand resting on the glass over Error's clenched fist on the other side. The red countdown flashed overhead and he sighed, voice blank. "You've all made a terrible mistake."

Dust sneered. "Didn't stop you before, it won't stop us."

Cross found himself turning away as the timer dropped, cringing at the feeling of Nightmare's fingers brushing his arm delicately. He'd chosen his path, there wasn't much of a chance to turn back now. Pushing his hands into his pockets he inhaled slowly and steeled his nerves. This wasn't any time to lose his calm and turn pathetic. He'd made his choice.

He felt like a second impostor.

—————

"I'm so proud of you~"

Cross cringed as he felt Nightmare's tongue drag up his cheek, those hideous teeth scraping his jaw softly. The creature rumbled in a deep purr, body rippling with the noise.

"You did exactly as I asked.." He murmured, a clawed finger tapping at his chest slowly where his soul was thundering away at the speed of of a rabbit's under his rib cage. He felt pinned like a mouse cornered by a hungry cat, his spine pressing up against the wall of Med bay uncomfortably, pipes digging into his shoulder blades with no consideration.  "Most people would have cracked under the pressure.. but not you."

The creature above him grinned widely, his eye flicking over his prey's uncomfortable expression in delight. He was glad Cross had cooperated; it meant he needn't kill him. Tentacles rippling behind him he shivered with excitement. He wouldn't have to kill alone now; he had a partner (whether he was willing or not wasn't the point).

"You look uncomfortable, Cross. Is something wrong?" The question was worded smoothly but was sharp with threat and expectation.

"No." The answer was automatic. "Though I might prefer it if you learned some etiquette in social distancing and personal space."

He gave a deep rumbling chuckle and pulled away from the monochrome, his jaw slowly melting shut while that horrible mouth on his stomach disappeared behind the fabric of his suit. "Of course, my most sincere apologies."

Cross didn't think he sounded sincere in the slightest, but he was relieved that he had pulled away and morphed back to his more bearable form. Irritatingly the knowledge of what he really was didn't make that white smile any less charming. To save himself the embarrassment of falling to the floor on his wobbly legs Cross stepped to one of the medical beds, easing himself onto it in a sitting position, his eyes never once leaving Nightmare's playful expression.

A heavy question lingered in the air. It was thick on Cross' tongue and it was clear Nightmare was waiting to hear it, yet his mouth stayed firmly shut.

What now?

"I suppose you're wondering how I did it all." Nightmare spoke with a lowly sigh, his pupil resting on the pipes above them that twisted across the ceiling like a maze.

"Perhaps I am." To say he wasn't would be a bold faced lie. How had he managed to pin the first three deaths on Horror so perfectly? And how had he gotten away with a them all?

"Well, I trust you understand that we'll have to speak quietly." The glint of thrill in his eye at telling the tale slightly disturbed him. Upon receiving a nod he continued, voice a low rumble.

"Sci's death was tricky. I came across the entertaining idea that I would stage it as an awful accident. Of course that was tricky, but I needed only knock him over the head really hard. He was unconscious when I opened up the sample of that nasty plant. 'The choker'. That's what he named it - fitting don't you think?" He shot him a grin and too his own disgust Cross found his mouth twitching in a slight smirk.

"It only took ten minutes for it to work its way into his mouth and down to his soul where it, well, choked him. It was then just a case of venting away and waiting for someone to find the fool's body."

Cross' eyes dragged down to the vent in the corner of Med bay, silent. He could remember the feeling of being shoved down one of those all too clearly, his body contorted and crammed into the tight boxy space. It was an experience he had no desire to repeat. The vents were built to better filter air through the ships system and connected to almost every room in what he was sure was a maze of twists and turns beneath the ship.

"I had honestly planned on killing you all off one by one, making each one look so accidental that you couldn't blame anyone, leaving you all to second guess and panic over nonsense while I watched over. But then Blue caught me."

Cross' brow shot up. "Caught you?"

He picked at his long fingers with a nod. "Unfortunately. He was awake when I emerged from the vent in the barracks. Whether he connected the dots of venting to impostor or not, I don't know - but he ran for the button. He could have shouted and woke everyone up, but I suppose that simplicity didn't cross his pathetic mind. I ran my tentacles through him right as his hand slammed down on that button; his death was messy, an impossible cover up."

"So you've decided to kill freely now?" Cross leaned back on the bed with a blank expression. "No more artistry to it?"

"Oh Cross, don't be like that." He tipped his head to the side at an angle a dog would find impressive. "I think there's a magnificent sense of artistry to it - I don't just leave them whole and bleeding after all."

"What about Geno?"

"Geno?" The impostor looked blank for a moment, as if he'd forgotten the third victim before a chuckle left him. "Oh, Geno, Geno, Geno.. I suppose it was really a case of whoever the first two people were to walk in. It was just my luck that one of them was Horror, the man who made himself purposely sus."

He thought back to how anxious Horror had been at the Med bay scan, how he'd tried to distract everyone from Sci's death by showing them those silly little hats, how blank he'd been at the discussion of each death. He'd seemed so suspicious.

"What was the whole gimmick at Med bay then?"

"Med bay? Oh- that oaf was self conscious of his weight-" A deep and rumbling laugh left him, the type that made Cross' stomach twist. "He was horribly anxious you'd all mock him, that's why he was so hesitant."

The idea to him seemed stupid. He'd been so fixed on the species, not the weight at all. They were skeletons, they hardly weighed anything anyway. "So it was opportunistic timing?"

"Indeed. I sabotaged reactor and locked the fool and Geno? Yes, that was his name. I locked them in together and while his back was turned I tore open that little skeleton. He was merely trying to help when the doors opened to reveal himself crouched over Geno's dead body with blood coating his hands. It was child's play." He gave a delighted purr at the memory and Cross briefly recalled how he'd spoken to empty air in the upper engine when the doors had locked.

"...You used the vents."

"You're starting to catch on, well done." He sneered cooly. "Ink creating that stupid voting system was only the icing on the cake, I get away with murder and another victim was thrown off of the ship. It's how the grownups play cat and mouse."

He didn't speak for a minute, tapping his foot in an agitated manner that had Nightmare's fingers twitching.

"Scan yourself." It came out sharper than he'd intended but he showed no sign of it. "I want to see what you really are."

A sickly grin spread across his face and he gave a deep chuckle, nodding. "I suppose I deserve you as much as one request."

"You do." He watched cautiously as Nightmare placed his helmet on one of the empty beds, the soft pressure creasing the sheets delicately. Three steps later he was stood upon the large scanner, tossing Cross his tablet to confirm. For a brief second he thought it might slip through his fingers and smash to the floor, splintering into hundreds of fragments like Horror's skull.

The green lasers engulfed him and swept up and down dramatically, all the while the two of them never broke eye contact, holding it in a steely competition as the scanner worked to identify him. It seemed to struggle, taking longer than the usual scan before the results finally popped up on the screen in his hands.

Name: Nightmare
Age: ???
Height: 6'5
Colour: black
Species: Skeleton/Maecenas-Ripper

Cross' brows furrowed sharply as he read over the results, his eyes lingering on the description of species. Maecenas-Ripper.

"I didn't start off like this you know?" Nightmare's smooth voice cut through the silence and Cross didn't need to look up to know that the creature's jaw had become unhinged again, the tip of the fleshy tongue flicking in his vision. "But that's a story for another day."

A slow nod was his response as he delicately flicked through his tablet. It came as a surprise to him when the map of the ship came up red. There were no tasks displayed, instead there were symbols for doors and other statement stamps hovering over coms, O2, Electrical and Reactor. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Connect the dots, Cross. It's how I close doors, sabotage."

"Sabotage?" The word had left his mouth and within a second he knew exactly what that meant. "The reactor meltdown-"

"Bingo - you're learning." He loomed over him intimidatingly and Cross had the sudden urge to get to his feet on the bed just so that he could for once be the one to look down on him. Maybe it would give him a confidence boost? He doubted it.

"Show me how it works." Another command he felt he was in no place to give. But Nightmare seemed more than happy to comply, plucking the tablet from his hands before sitting down by his side with a tuneless hum.

"It would be my pleasure." His thin fingers swiped across the screen momentarily before one tapped at the little zig-zag symbol hovering over the mapped room of electrical. Cross waited patiently before jolting as the lights above them flickered. They glowed brightly for perhaps a second before shutting off, throwing the ship into heavy darkness.

Rather quickly he realised he wanted the lights to come back on fast. Being alone in the dark with Nightmare was most likely a danger rating of crimson. "You can turn them back on-"

The sound of his deep chuckle was admittedly even more effective in the dark. "I can't, Cross. Another Crewmate will have to go to electrical and switch them back on themselves."

His stomach twisted softly and he winced at the feeling of something cold curl around his waist. A tentacle. "Ah- I see-" A tremor shook beside him and he knew all too well that Nightmare's body had unfurled to its true form. Maecenas-Ripper. The feeling of cold appendages wrapping around him and spilling over his lap was irritatingly becoming a feeling to be getting used to. It no longer gave him the urge to gag and retch up lunch, rather a feeling of uncomfortableness. Fingers twitching he reached down to drag them across its slimy surface, lightly feeling along to the tip where he squeezed it softly. It twitched in response, curling around his palm slowly and squeezing in a manner that he found suspiciously docile.

Being stuck in the dark like this was slightly unnerving, with the soft green glow of the exit light above the door and the light of Nightmare's cyan eye never once wavering from his own.

"Maybe in the dark you'll be less disgusted by me." The creature murmured, watching as the tentacle on Cross' hand tangled up his arm and squeezed softly. The Crewmate didn't answer, his words heavy in his throat as he caught sight of those jagged teeth and unhinged jaw. Maybe if he pretended he could forget that hideous form and picture they were simply two workers waiting out the power cut before resuming tasks. The image didn't fit.

The shifting pressure of the mattress beneath him signalled Nightmare moving and he cringed at the feeling of another tentacle wrap around his shoulders. "I'm beginning to think you're obsessed with me."

"Perhaps." Was the murmured response as Nightmare let a clawed finger tap at his leg slowly. They were in rather close proximity and when Cross raised his hand slightly he found his phalanges brushing against the lower half of his impossibly stretched jaw.

"I hope you're not waiting for me to kiss you." It was the only sentence his jumbled mind could force out in the moment, mimicking Nightmare's earlier words from before he discovered his big secret.

The laugh he earned was genuine and it sent his stomach in little rollercoaster flips. "You wish, I'm way out of your league." His voice was deep and sultry and Cross found he couldn't look away as the creature's form shifted back to the one that wouldn't give him night terrors when he slept. The form that he could call marginally attractive. He honestly believed his words, yet he forced the resounding phrase out.

"Per-perhaps another time-" The stutter was a curse to his ego but Nightmare seemed to only find it amusing, his slender fingers gripping his jaw with a strength that was neither harsh nor soft. The white of his teeth shined duly in the dark and Cross felt himself slip away, his morals and better judgement being cast into the darkness that swallowed the two of them and the ship, his soul thundering in his chest as he leaned upwards to him.

The darkness hid them both well and as Cross felt hands slide across his shoulders and downwards, hot breath tingling over his neck, he found himself hoping the lights wouldn't turn on for a while.

—————

"This is the first power cut we've had in weeks." Dream muttered, his gaze narrowed as he fiddled with the heavy switches to fix them all in the narrow light of his helmet torch.

Behind him Killer hummed in agreement, his back to Dream as he stared out to the hallway before them. He wasn't about to let the damn impostor sneak up on Dream - It was painfully obvious that it hadn't been Error, the poor sod became terrified at the mere touch of other people. As if he would have the nerves to carve up the bodies of his Crewmates. Dust and the others had used it as a twisted way to turn Ink's stupid system against him. Personally he didn't much care.

It only took a few minutes until the lights above them flickered and blazed, shining down harshly to the corridors outside. It was a sharp contrast to the black before and Killer found himself wincing at the inconsiderate electrics. It sent a dull buzz ringing through his skull, as if a pesky bee had managed to slip under the flap of his helmet. He found he constantly had that odd edging feeling in the back of his mind, a persistent buzz of danger weighing him down. It was unnerving.

"Hey."

He was broken out of his thoughts by a careful nudge to his side and he glanced over to see his yellow suited partner looking at him in some somewhat concern. "Hm?"

"You were spacing out." He muttered with a roll of his eyes. "C'mon now, lets get back to navigation, I have a task to complete."

Feeling a slight smirk twitch on face he recalled what the two of them had been up to before the lights had flicked off. "Could that task be devilishly handsome, dressed in red and named Killer?"

"No." The taller scoffed as they walked out of electrical. "It's realign the ships course."

"Oh, how horrifically boring." He muttered, cheekily linking his arm with Dream as if they were part of a medieval film and they were a newly wed couple wandering around their ancient castle.

"Indeed, some pesky vixen keeps knocking it off course."

As they passed shields Killer gave him a shove that caught the taller by surprise, stumbling into the railings with a grunt. "That's your fault and you know it-"

Once righting himself Dream gave the man a harder shove, satisfied to see him stagger into the nearest wall with a yelp. "Maybe."

"You play too rough." He muttered, making sure to not miss the opportunity of a flirty wink that Dream either didn't see under the glass of his helmet or blatantly ignored. Of course not wanting to be the last one to have the embarrassment pinned on he gave Dream one last strong shove into the corridor wall before breaking off into a run towards navigation. The angered yell behind him was enough to confirm his need to sprint, boots slipping on the grated floor as he rounded corners. He nearly collided with Reaper on the way down, yelling fumbled apologies as he ricocheted round the corner into navigation.

Dream was mere seconds behind him, dodging past Reaper and round the corner in time to watch Killer hop up onto the control panel, probably setting off an entourage of wrong system directions as buttons flicked and lit up beneath him. He grinned widely at the skeleton as he slowly stepped closer, tipping his head back in a ridiculous pose he probably thought was sexy.

"I aught to show you your place."

"Oh? Please." He snickered and lifted a leg to press against Dream's chest when he strode closer, halting him in his place. Neither of them missed the flare in Killer's cheeks as Dream simply gripped his ankle and pushed it aside with the ease of cat swatting a fly.

Killer swallowed sharply as the taller loomed over him, his grin faltering as he stared up. "Actually- don't you have a task to do-? Ahaha- I think I need to work over there-" His attempt to jump off of the control panel failed miserably as Dream pressed a hand against his chest, shoving him back down with a low chuckle. "I don't think so, Killer."

"Oh Lord-" He mumbled, pupils flicking across the room in a panic before resting on the immovable object in front of him. Dream merely stared at him for a long moment before he flicked his nose, shaking his head. "Get your ass off of the control panels before you fly us into a damn asteroid field."

Grumbling softly he did as he said, sliding off and turning around to reorder the switches he'd knocked astray, turning off the lights for buttons and so on. He'd apparently caused the front headlights to shine at full power, though he doubted anyone noticed. Behind him he felt Dream's chest brush against his back, a pair of strong arms loosely encircling his waist as he worked.

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?" Killer jabbed a finger at the last button before carefully turning, keeping Dream's arms around him of course as he pushed himself up onto his toes to be level.

"Earth." His voice was blank as he said it but the smaller knew he was thinking of something in particular.

"Uh.." He thought for a brief moment, back to his friends he'd left behind, his crumbling one bed apartment he'd saved up so much money to buy when he was younger, the memories he had of Earth as a child. The end of life clock for their world hadn't started ticking until he was around seven, and it pained him to know that any memories of the once 'perfect' world they had were fading from his mind. Earth certainly had better facilities than here, and it was warmed - blisteringly warm though - and the food was perhaps a fraction of a decimal better. Maybe he did miss it. But when he stared up at Dream he felt like Earth didn't matter, and he found he didn't care whether they returned to it being whole or not. This ship was all they needed (that and Dream). "Not really, no.."

The skeleton  rested his chin on Killer's shoulder, staring out of the glass panels to watch the endless void of space move past them, billions of stars dotted lazily in the distance winking down at them. They looked so much clearer down here than they did at Earth. So much clearer.

"My brother was supposed to join me on this ship, y'know?"

"Hm?" Killer glanced up at him briefly before resting his head on his chest and shuffling a bit closer. "Why didn't he then?"

Dream sighed lowly, eyes narrowed. "He didn't want to leave his slimy boyfriend back on Earth, got far too attached to the bastard."

Killer gave a laugh and nodded with a hum, inspecting his fingers behind Dream's back before they encased his body. "Sounds like you don't particularly like this boyfriend."

"I despise him." He muttered bitterly. "He'll single handedly ruin him, and I can't prevent that when I'm up here."

"Ah well if he's anything like you are, I'm sure your brother knows just how to take care of himself. I wouldn't worry if I were you." He pulled away from their soft little moment and gave him a light nudge. "You're just being an overprotective brother, I'm sure. He's probably safe and sound, worrying horribly about the chaotically handsome man that helped you up into the ship on launch day." He mockingly held out a hand as if to demonstrate and Dream gave him a withering look.

"Of course he is."

"Trust me, Angel." He ignored a swipe at the nickname. "He's safe and sound in his slimy boyfriend's arms thinking of you up in the stars."

"I'd like to think so." He muttered with a sigh before he eased himself down onto the front chair, staring out of the glass as if he could see Earth and his brother from all the way up here.

"I don't have any family left to worry about - I guess that's probably a good thing if I think about it." He perched himself on the arm of the seat with an air of somewhat delicacy and rested his skull atop of Dream's with his newfound height.

"Do you think so?" He allowed the position for a few moments before dragging the smaller onto his lap. Of course Killer hissed and shoved him in protest, but it was clear he was actually rather pleased that the other initiated the move.

"Yeah. I mean, my brother died years ago and I dumped my family as soon as I could throw them off my back. I had a few friends back on Earth I suppose I should be missing, but I really don't." He shook his head softly and yawned, resting his skull on his chest with a gentle thump.

"Fair enough. I only really had my brother - he was the only one I cared about." His hand delicately brushed the red suited Crewmate's skull, tracing lazy patterns.

"Well, now you can care for me instead. I'm certain I'm much more quirky."

That earned a decent laugh and he shook his head. "Quirky? That's for sure."

"Good." He leaned over to kiss his cheek quickly, their skulls bonking together briefly in a happy smooch. "Now tell me you love me."

Dream's brow shot up in amusement and he leaned back in the seat with a hum. "And why on Earth would I ever do that?"

"Because - you love me?" Upon receiving a laugh he shoved him in the chest, eyes narrowed. "Fine then- don't bother."

"Hey- hey, I'm kidding." He rolled his eyes as Killer started to shift off of him and gripped his hips tightly, dragging him back with an ungraceful yelp tight to his chest. He gripped Killer's jaw and forced him to look over, mouth twitching at the sight of the red hue that stained his cheeks. "You are the most bearable yet also simultaneously unbearable person on this ship."

"Am I supposed to fantasise over those words when I go to sleep?" He sneered down at him. "I'm afraid I require more fancy linguistics to carry out such bedtime activities."

"Don't let me think about such things, I won't get any sleep."

"You filthy sinner." He murmured, pressing closer to him and letting his arms wrap around the back of his neck. "You aught to be exorcised of your sins by a priest."

"I don't believe there are any priests on the Skeld." He chuckled lowly, his fingers dragging up the bumps of Killer's spine through his suit, earning a delicious tremor.

"I think Dust once solved the murder case of a priest, so he's practically a priest. I could ask him." They'd gotten significantly closer as the conversation progressed and Killer didn't miss how Dream's pupils flickered down to rest on his lips for a split moment.

"Let's leave him out of it, shall we?" His voice dropped a tone and Killer shivered eagerly, their lips brushing momentarily.

"Good idea."

—————

"I have a job for you, Cross."

A tremor rippled through his body at the words and the Crewmate swallowed, expression blank as he held Nightmare's piercing gaze. "What is it?"

Nightmare gave a delightful noise, a mix between a purr and a trill as his capricious body slinking around him in a dangerous dance of predator and prey. He'd been using his.. other form a lot more now, seemingly much more content in it. Whether Cross thought the same or not wasn't a concern to him.

"I want you to kill someone for me." There was no sugar coating it. No easing him into the request or crafty wordings to twist meanings. It was as blunt and sharp as the task itself.

He ignored the plummet in his stomach as Nightmare's clawed fingers curled around his shoulders, digging in to the point only where it became apparent what Nightmare might do to him if he refused or failed. "Who do you want me to kill?"

"Reaper. I think his time as playing sadist is over."

The phrase was so fantastically ironic and he found a slight smile twitching on his lips despite the morbid topic. "If you say so."

"You're so good." He murmured, hot breath tickling the base of his skull as his back pressed up against his chest. This time when the creature's long tongue dragged up his neck he didn't flinch, only scrunched his brows. It seemed that was how the impostor saw fit to display his twisted ways of affection. It want the greatest experience to say the least. "The others would never be so obedient, you were the perfect choice."

He silently contemplated over the word obedient. To himself it wasn't so much a case of obedience, more one of wanting to live to see the next day. You could call him obedient in the situation, but if that was their only option then perhaps it was more of a primal instinct engineered into their fine species. To survive.

Upon being met with silence Nightmare continued. "I'll be there in case you fail of course - it would be awfully inconvenient if he got away and exposed you." Cross shuddered at his next words. "Because if you did, I won't back you up."

"I understand." His gaze was caught by a gleam of light by his side and he turned to catch sight of a sharpened blade, it's hilt gripped by one of Nightmare's dripping tentacles. It reflected the green glow of the light from Med bay (it was their preferred hideout spot) and shined dangerously, angular and pointed. He found his hand reaching out towards it without much consent from his own mind, fingers curling over the tentacle until it slid away and the knife was left in his grasp. "This method seems a little old school for you."

He chuckled, eyes lingering up and down his body for a moment. "That's exactly why you're doing it, lets call it a.. subtle hint to those fools that they're no longer dealing with only one impostor."

The knife felt cool in his hand and oddly familiar, his fingers moulding to the hilt somewhat perfectly as he experimentally twisted it. "I guess I'll finally have an excuse to use those knife skills I rambled on about in the cafeteria, huh?"

The creature nodded slowly, his grin widening as Cross spun, gripping his shoulder and shoving him down onto the medical bed, the blade grazing his throat. He didn't flinch nor make a noise, his only emotion being that ghastly smile as his eye dragged from the blade up to Cross' smirking face.

The position was nothing short of intimate, their bodies pressed together and separated merely by the shining metal of a knife that would later steal someone's last breath.

"Indeed you will."

Ten minutes later Cross was stood alone outside Med Bay, the knife hidden in his pockets as he scowled at the floor.

I'll follow beneath you in the vents.

That's what Nightmare had told him as his body melted down through the grates, seeping into the integrated system of the vents which's actual use Nightmare saw no need for. He would creep along below, ready to burst out and finish the job if Cross found himself incapable. Or he wouldn't. Perhaps all of this had been a ploy to kill off another Crewmate and have himself ejected. Had he given the same treatment to Horror before betraying him? Cross shook his head and started to walk. He didn't think so.

Despite being alone Cross had never felt like he was being more watched. The soft buzz of the cameras whirred overhead, their beady eyes staring down at him with an intensity that made his skull crawl. He had no doubt that Dream was there now (Perhaps even with Killer). Beneath every footstep he took he knew Nightmare was creeping along beneath him, his watchful eye burning through the floor to observe him. He had the faintest idea where Nightmare might be - the skeleton often lurked around storage and shields all day, prowling the perimeter like a caged zoo animal.

Picking his way the short way round Cross walked through the cafeteria his gaze lingering on the centre table where he could remember Blue's mauled body so clearly. Nightmare had done that. He walked past Admin, gaze catching inside for a second to see Ink hunched over the system he'd asked Error to make. He was observing too.

Storage was empty when he stepped inside, the boxes stood tall and intimating under the harsh ceiling lights that cast sharp shadows across the floor. The hats from many nights ago lay discarded and tossed carelessly into crates, the sad sagging neck of the flamingo hanging loosely over the edge, its dull eyes staring down at him.

Turning the corner he strode past Coms, giving a quick check. It was empty. Error had been the only person to ever work in there, and now that it was gone it had become a creepy memorial memory of the man who one was. His fingers itched horribly as he fiddled with the blade, constantly readjusting his grip on it over and over. Whether it was from fear or excitement, at this point he couldn't tell; his emotions were a jumbling mess, a dull throbbing buzz in the back of his mind he couldn't get rid of.

The curve of the corridor signified that he was approaching shields and he twisted round the corner sharply, brows furrowing as he found it empty. "..Where the hell is he-?"

A shift to his right caught his attention and he shuddered to see slime pooling up from the vents, a voice muttering one word before it sank back down, leaving no trace of its endorsement.

"Navigation."

It was then that the gravity of the situation crashed down on him. There was no turning back. He couldn't back out with the flimsy excuse of "I couldn't find him" or discover that Reaper was teamed with someone else. He'd have to do it now - he'd have to kill.

Walking slowly he took his time to move up the corridor, his body stiff with unwanted tension. The moment he turned the corner to step into navigation everything seemed hyper aware. He could feel the fibres of the plastic encasement around the hilt of the knife in his hand, the whorls and bumps and grooves in its factory made surface. He felt the grooves of the metal floor scraping raspingly beneath the grips on his shoe, each step purposeful and irreversible. The lights shining down on him pricked at his eye sockets, pupils wavering in focus to rest on the purple suited figure of Reaper who seemed to be fiddling with the controls, flicking switches and turning knobs that had been wrongly shifted by god knows what.

He found a surprising new skill of stealth as he drifted forwards, thumb getting a comfortable grip on his knife as it raised to his side, locked for trajectory. Within seconds he was three metres away. Two meters. One. Lingering slightly he took a short breath, ever conscious of Nightmare's looming presence watching him from the vents. He wouldn't save him if he fucked this up. Within a moment he'd made his decision.

The blade arched in a sweeping line, the light dragging behind it in a swift dash of colour against the splitting space. The knife was in direction to stab him right in the side of the neck; a hit that would most likely kill him within moments if not immediately.

Either Reaper had sensed him or he'd caught sight of his reflection looming over him in the glass because the skeleton reacted with lightning speed, his legs kicking with force against the control panel so the typical office chair rolled backwards and barrelled into his chest, knocking the wind from his non-existent lungs and sending the blade clattering to the floor.

The morbid skeleton launched out of the chair and swung a neat left hook round, connecting his fist sharply with Cross' jaw with the sound of a whip-crack.

Staggering away Cross clutched his jaw with a snarl, his mismatched pupils resting on Reaper's somewhat shocked face, blood dribbling from his mouth. The dark skeleton regarded him in surprise, allowing a brief staring contest in which neither of their gazes rested on each other, both fixed on the knife that had spun to the far corner of the room by the vents.

The second Cross moved he did too, delivering a sloppy roundhouse kick to his knees, causing them to crumple as he came crashing to the ground with a yell. Reaper skidded to the floor, his fingers splayed out as he went to snatch up the knife. But to his disbelief it physically dodged him, the blade shaking as it dragged itself across the floor right to Cross where his fingers clenched around it tightly. His leg could be broken yet he still stood, his hands gripping the fabric of Reaper's suit as he slammed him against the wall. In the moment he didn't have much time to worry about later guilt or regrets, any doubts about what he had to do. His mind only registered one thing; Reaper had to die.

The shorter skeleton managed to duck a well aimed swing from the knife, his suit tearing and glass helmet splintering from the near-death impact. It was all he could do to elbow Cross under the jaw, bone cracking under the pressure as he made a break for it.

Boots thundering across the floor he dashed to the door, eyes wide and fearful as he reached a hand out to grasp the corner of the door and propel himself round the corner. He had no chance of pulling back as the doors slammed shut.

The resulting crunch of Reaper's hand being ground to dust under the pressure of the doors would forever imprint in Cross' mind. The scream that followed after would too. It was a ripping scream, one of such pain and horror to the point it sounded primal. He clutched his crumpled fingers with a shriek, the jagged and crushed bones falling at his feet like blocks of jenga.

Even Cross paused for a second, that crunch replaying over and over in his mind on a loop, a broken record plaguing his senses and mixing in with the whimpered gibberish Reaper groaned, spitting curses and profanities as he stared at the door. His voice broke.

Looming over him tall, a dark figure up from the vents, their grin wide and sharp, reflecting the dimming light like a mirror. Their cyan eye stabbed down at him, unmoving and full of only the worst emotions. There seemed to be no physical form to their body, a black canvas stretched across the doorways in a barricade dripping with death.

"Where do you think you're going~?" The words were hauntingly playful, heavy with honeyed tones and malice. As Reaper stepped back the presence of Cross completely left his mind, only having the capacity to stare at Nightmare while the creature's gaze bore into Cross like a burning arrow.

In the moment of it all Cross found himself flooded with adrenaline, his blood pumping through his body faster than his soul could control. The blade felt nonexistent in his grasp, a mere twig he'd use to squash like a bug. Even when the doors slid open and Nightmare slid aside he wasn't faltered, watching in glee as Reaper tried to run.

As a child he'd always end up to be the player no one else wanted; the seeker, the chaser, the one left out and ran away from. But he'd quickly come to the realisation that he loved playing chase and the rush of adrenaline it game. Nightmare's words echoed in his mind as he broke out in a run after him, a grin nearly matching the taller's on his face.

This is how the grownups play cat and mouse.

He allowed Reaper to skid around the corner and down to shields before he threw himself forwards, barrelling his body into the skeleton and sending them both crashing to the floor. Reaper kicked and spat, twisting his body frantically and doing anything from punching to body throwing to get him off.

With blood roaring in his skull along with Nightmare's hissed words of encouragement Cross raised the knife high above his skull before bringing it sweeping downwards. The point shattered the glass of Reaper's visor instantly upon contact and his skull was the next to be met by it. The splintering crack that followed after was equally sickening to that made when his hand had been crushed. But he felt oblivious to all of it. His vision ran red as the blood that leaked from Reaper's skull as his body stopped twitching, going limp beneath him in the disgraceful defeat of death.

Wrenching back the knife came clean with a sickening squelch, blood coating the shining blades once pristine surface. As Cross stared at it he felt himself start to laugh, unbeknownst of the blood smeared across his cheek and hands. He felt as if he'd finally broken, his mind fragmented like Reaper's skull - Horror's skull - Blue's body - Lust's body. He felt just like them; jumbled and pulled apart, ripped torn and snapped. Why was dopamine flooding his body? He'd just killed someone. He'd just killed someone.

"Congratulations." The voice dragged him from his thoughts and Cross found his grin only widening, his legs shaky as he pushed himself and turned to look for the impostor only to be met with open air and the lingering word from a vent. "O2."

His movements were jerky and fumbled as he stepped down the corridor, his left leg twinging with shots of pain every time he stepped on it. He supposed Reaper's kick might have dislodged or fractured something. His feet felt sore and cracked in his boots, sternum blooming with pain and jaw aching every time he breathed. He hadn't expected to take such a beating from the bastard. But he'd done it. He'd killed for Nightmare. He'd done him proud.

The concept of being caught on the way to O2 had never brushed his mind, but if it had he'd be thanking his lucky stars he didn't barrel into Ink or Dream or Killer or Dust around the corner on his journey. There would be no hope of an explanation as to why he was coated in blood and walking in the opposite direction to Reaper's body in a corridor only accessible by him if he'd tango danced right over the corpse. He could perhaps tell the truth and try pin it on Nightmare, spin a tale of endless woe about how he was manipulated and tricked. But that wouldn't work. Of course it wouldn't.

His entrance into O2 was nothing short of graceless, a bloody mess limping into a small and heavy machinified room with the blood of his fellow Crewmate splattered across his body and suit. How were they going to wash it out? The thought hadn't occurred to him.

Leant against the wall Nightmare waited for him, the smile on his face wide as the Cheshire cats. He pushed off as Cross staggered in, a clawed hand cupping his cheek and cooing at his subordinate's hazy and adrenaline-ruined expression. "You've made me so proud, Cross."

He nodded drunkly, a hand reaching up to lay over the Creature's, grasping it tightly as he panted. "I need- I need an alibi-"

The chuckle that rippled from his throat had Cross' knees weak. "Don't worry about that, I'll fix us both up nicely."

Cross glanced behind him briefly as the doors to O2 slid shut and a low sigh left him, feet pushing up as he slumped against the taller, eyes never once leaving his face. At this point he knew he must have gone mad with the results of killing Reaper because he found he wasn't disgusted by Nightmare. In fact it was quite the opposite. He openly found himself wishing he'd do something: shove him against the wall, speak in that husky voice, snap his neck maybe? God he wanted this madness to end.

The impostor's eye lingered over Cross slowly, his tongue flicking out to drag up his cheek raspingly, cleaning off the blood that had spattered there. He didn't protest or yell, merely letting his eyes fall shut placidly. He was in a vulnerable state, drunk on a killing high and dizzy with adrenaline.

"Do you see why I do it? - Kill." He murmured, hands sliding down to rest upon the smaller's hips. "Can't you see how much fun it is? - to watch them scream and twist beneath you, only to fall limp at one simple calculated touch?"

A lazy hum left him and he looked away, though inside words were screaming at him. It had been fun. He'd relished the moment where Reaper had finally gone still under his blade, how terrified he'd been when being chased, how desperately he'd tried to fight. It had been exhilarating. His sanity was rapidly dwindling, that much was obvious, because when he looked back at Nightmare he didn't see him as the hideous monster he'd told himself he was over and over, because - well, he himself was now just as much of a monster as him.

Lucidity still tried to cling desperately to the outer curves of his mind and he felt if it stayed there he'd be plagued by regrets and remorse, deteriorate into a broken husk torn by the only sane part left of him. So it didn't come with much thought as he leaned up, smashing their lips together messily in a kiss he would have never initiated before if his life depended on it. And as he felt himself shoved back against the wall, Nightmare's hands gripping him tight, he felt that last sane part of him slip away.

😳•~~~•😳

Nightmare's tentacles were cold and wet to the touch, coiling around him smoothly like snakes, winding up his legs and around his waist where they stayed, pressing him against the solid doors to O2. His mind was fuzzy and unfocused as he did his best to level the messy kiss, forcing back the urge to gag as he felt the long and pointed tongue slide down his throat.

Their movements were raw and rushed, no real passion or thought behind them as Cross dug his fingers into the malleable surface of a tentacle, dragging through it uselessly. Drool ran messily down his chin, sliding in a steady line along his jaw and down his neck to dampen his suit in splotches.

His tongue was dwarfed by Nightmare's and he failed miserably to subdue the impostor, though he had clearly seemed amused with the effort, allowing the smaller to perhaps think he'd won over dominance before shoving him back down to submission. Their hands were all over each other, Cross' failing to find a suitable grip on the taller while Nightmare's seemed to have tasked themselves with feeling the shape of every bone and jutting edge through the fabric of his suit.

Unlike Cross' rushed movements the impostor took his time, fingers dragging across the poking bones of his pelvis and giving the dips ample attention before they inched further upwards, very much content with taking the slow and torturous route while the monochrome's soul was screaming for him to speed up. Not so that he could be violated faster, no. It was the fear that he'd suddenly regret his stupid impulsive actions half way through and the scenario would unfold into the worst possible kind. He needed this to happen and be over with while his brain was still fucked over. Was he really in the right state of mind to consent? No. But he didn't think his partner would care either way.

Perhaps Nightmare knew Cross' thoughts and inner conflicts but he didn't act on them, doing this as he wanted, not the smaller. In fact he rather liked the prospect of seeing regret and fear fill the second impostor's eyes as he tore through what little dignity and self control he had left.

Degrading gasps and whimpers left him in sharp breaths, eyes squeezed shut as Nightmare pulled away from the messy kiss, a thick line of saliva connecting their two tongues. It dipped between the two of them, bowing under its own weight until his tongue flicked and it splattered across the smaller's stain ridden suit. They'd have to find a way to clean those later.

Thundering in his chest, his soul was a bird in a cage throwing itself against the bars of his ribs insistently without fail, pounding so loud that it mirrored the steady chug of the ship's engine often heard low beneath the floor, the tremors stretching up your boots when you stood close enough. In the heat of the moment Cross could almost pretend Nightmare's touch were careful and purposeful, made with passion and emotion instead of sadistic glee. It was hard to immerse himself completely, a tick at the back of his mind telling him everything they were doing was wrong; oh so wrong.

Yet wrong wasn't really a word in his mental itinerary, that page having been torn from the dictionary and cast into the flaming pit of hell that he'd soon be visiting for a long retirement. And after the sickening moan he gave upon feeling that tongue drag up his neck he was sure heaven had barred its gates permanently for him. It was hot and surprisingly rough, the twisted flesh lapping along his jawline while his sharp teeth nipped at his sensitive bone and drawing blood. He didn't need to look to know they'd bruise darkly.

"You're enjoying this~" He murmured, delighted by the humiliated hiss from Cross. His face was flushed deep purple, sweat starting to bead on his skull as he shifted against the wall. He chose not to answer.

Fingers tracing the length of his sternum Nightmare laughed cooly, his tongue dragging up Cross' cheek as his phalanges rested on the cold metal zip to his space suit, flicking it a few times before slowly pulling it down with the soft humming noise. "It's crazy what fear and adrenaline can do to someone; I mean, look at you."

Snarling softly Cross' mismatched pupils glared at him with a mix of anger and embarrassment as the suit slipped off of his shoulders and fell, pooling around his ankles and leaving him in the loose black shorts and white shirt he wore beneath. He attempted to bark some sort of witty response but any attempt failed miserably as Nightmare's tentacles shoved under his clothes, seemingly bored of playing the waiting game.

"ShuUT UaAHP-!" It was a sharp shout, his skull throwing back and banging against the doors with unregistered force as he bit his tongue so hard it bled. The tentacles tangled through his ribs like a spiders web, one snaking down to coil around his spine while the forth one rubbed on the upper half of his pelvis. It was an unexpected wave of euphoria, one that earned strangled moans he forced to keep inside, body convulsing under their touch. It was unlike anything he could have ever imagined and no sort of the incoming experiences would have ever prepared him for it.

"G-gOd-" He swallowed back his words as he felt those fleshy appendages have their way with his body, knees weak and feeling like sticks of hard spaghetti stuck together with jelly. It was hard to miss the taller's ghostly grin and he found himself regretting being so vocal in his pleasure, wishing he could say he hated every moment of the experience.

"I find they have many uses." The one around his spine constricted and Cross cried out loudly, his eyes rolling back in his skull as his fingers clawed at the smooth surface of the doors behind him. Those around his ribs did the same and he found himself fleeting, vision blotchy and full of dark spots. Was it even possible to feel this much at once? "More than just tearing people apart."

He was very much inclined to agree on that one, spitting curses of disbelief as they tangled down to his pelvis now, giving those bones ample attention to unravel him. One however slid up, its tip tapping at his throbbing soul and earning a spike in his emotions.

"W-wAiT-"

His words went ignored and Nightmare watched closely as the tentacle curled around his soul, gently tugging it free of his rib cage and vulnerably out in the open between them. Cross was just as fixated on his soul as him, pupils wavering as he watched  the dripping tentacles work it's way around his defenceless lifeline.

The action was disgustingly intimate, sending heavy tremors rippling through his body as he choked back those ignominious noises from working their way free of his mouth. One squeeze was all it took to have him reeling. His poor soul felt compressed beneath it, compressed on all sides in such a way that his body rolled with waves of heat. Knees giving out slightly he ducked his head and panted, drips of saliva falling to the floor beneath in an undignified puddle.

Nightmare kept a keen eye on the fallen Cremate as his tentacled rubbed its tip across his souls surface, working at pressing and sliding and gripping and pushing against it, anything to earn those pathetic noises from him. As it pressed against the dipped curve in the heart shaped organ he gave a low purr and the tentacle pushed, starting to wiggle its way inside.

Cross had never felt his body twist so fast, a wail he never consented to tearing from his throat as he felt the intrusion force it's way into his being, body trembling as he cursed nonsense, eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he kicked at nothing but air. It was maddening, the feeling of it exploring deep into the fleshy centre enough to make his stomach flip worse than any rollercoaster could ever do.

"HnhaAAH~! N-NO-!" His whimpered plea was duley ignored. In fact, if anything he made the tentacle press in deeper, shoving it to the point where the magic strained and swelled and Cross' voice broke, body jerking and heaving as he gasped desperately in disregarded supplications.

The soul dripped through Nightmare's fingers as he gripped it, white and red liquid marbling together as they ran down his dark bones in a messy display he thought the smaller should be ashamed of. His thumbs rubbed slow circles at its swollen surface, pressing down until he could feel the solid bump of his tendril inside. Cross' face was a mess of spit and dribbling tears as he fell to his knees, hands scrabbling and failing to grab back his soul which Nightmare kept just out of reach.

"You didn't think this would be all pleasure, did you?" His voice was thick with amusement and his tongue slipped out to clean off some of the thick release that slid down his hand. "Oh Cross, I'm going to make you scream, scream till you hurt."

The smaller didn't get a change to testimony against him as he shoved a finger or two inside his soul to join the tentacle and twisted them roughly. The yell that ripped from Cross' throat was raw and primal and his soul's restraint broke, heavy liquid splattering all over his hands and falling to the floor to join his undignified mess of tears and spit.

Nightmare released his soul and body at the same time, watching as the monochrome crumpled like a failed balloon, his knees buckling and back sinking down along the door until he hit the floor in a pitiful state where he curled over weakly, fingers scraping to reach his soul and return it to his chest.

For a moment he considered taking it away and making him endure the same process again, but that thought became distracted as he noted the change in shape of Cross' body, a strain in his shorts showing. A sharp bark of a laugh left him and he moved a foot, grinding it down on his crotch and earning a rumbling groan.

"You're actually turned on by this? How sickening." His voice was a sneer yet he didn't cover up the excitement behind it. "You're disgusting, you know that?"

Curled over and aching all over he merely panted, vision impossibly blurred as he stared just short of directly at him, focusing on the far corner of the room instead as the words sent his abdomen twisting. He was right; he was disgusting for liking this, sickening. Yet he couldn't help it. He wished he could still blame the adrenaline.

"Let's see what sin we're dealing with, shall we?" He laughed darkly as a tentacle curled around the neck of Cross' shirt and yanked him back up to his feet harshly, another tentacle tugging his shorts off and letting them tangle around his ankles with his suit. "Oh?"

The skeleton's lower ecto body had formed, the magenta faux flesh stretching from his knees up to his lowest ribs. It glistened softly with beads of sweat that ran under his gaze, shakes plaguing him. He wasn't particularly curvy or blocky though toned - a rather boring and average body in his eye, but oh well. His gaze was mainly focused on the hard erection before him, the head already weeping translucent precum that dotted the tip sinfully.

His fingers reached out and delicately curled around his length, pressing down with ample pressure to make Cross groan, head tipping back. Sweeping his thumb over the tip he chuckled, circling the slit until the skeleton's body shook with desire, feet uselessly scraping across the floor.

"You must be embarrassed with yourself.." He murmured, voice soft as his wrist flicked a few times and drew startled gasps from his prey. "Enjoying such filthy endeavours, who do you think you are?

Yet again Cross refused to answer him, gritting his teeth tightly together as he strained into his touch, hips bucking involuntarily into his hold and hands rushing up to grip his shoulders and dig in sharply. The pace he started was sharp and fast sending the smaller's mind into disarray and complete meltdown. His body felt like it was burning up, slick with sweat under his loose shirt which stuck clammily to his back in an uncomfortable manner. There was no passion behind his actions, they were all aimed to humiliate him, to draw out the worst noises and responses possible. It was nothing like masturbation where you could take your own pace - he was relentless.

Rapidly pumping the disoriented skeleton's length Nightmare sneered, fingers twisting and wrist rotating quickly to earn those sweet cries and mewls that jabbed at his swiftly diminishing ego. He could tell when the Crewmate was getting close when his body heaved, arching upwards against him as his eyes widened, babbled nonsense flying from his lips as he felt himself swell.

Cross' vision swam as his release spilled from his throbbing member, cum decorating Nightmare's hand in white spots that the taller looked at with an unreadable expression, grinning. He felt as if he were staring at everything through frosted glass in a bathroom, the view distorted and fogged up. It was impossible to make out the pipes and joists that ran above them on the ceiling, all the panels and grating mixing together in a horrible smear of cheep oil paints.

Breathing laboured he longed to sink down to the floor and fall asleep, curled up in a instinctive position that would trick his mind into thinking he was even an infinitesimal of a percentage safer. But Nightmare wasn't going to allow that, giving a purr of glee as he shoved Cross further against the wall, his tentacles swarming around him once more with an intent that made his stomach twist.

"Form the other one, I know you can." Nightmare's words made his conscious tumble down a cavern and it was all he could do to groan blearily, body shaking as his cock was given a few more swift tugs and strokes to get the message across.

"I-I-"

"Make an excuse, I'd love to hear one." It was a deadly snake hiss, pupil thin and sharp as he stared at him. It took all his restraint to look away from his capturing gaze, mind buzzing as all his words died, his tongue shrivelling to a dated prune in his mouth. Staring at the floor, mortified, he squeezed his eyes shut and felt his magic twist. The trill of pleasure was all he needed to know that he'd given the monster what he'd wanted.

Fingers sliding down Nightmare's hands pushed his thighs apart with minimum effort, tongue sweeping across his lips as he stared at the newly formed female ecto in front of him. It was only the lower half, but that's what he'd expected - seemed Cross still had a little bit of dignity left. It didn't matter, he had all he needed.

Cross barely registered the tentacles slithering downwards, his mind still struggling to recover from soul violation and the previous orgasm he'd been milked into. He did however feel it when the tip of one flicked against his clit, another curiously pushing adjacent and sliding through his folds.

"MnhHaAH-! Wh-whAt are- are you doi-"

His confused protest was cut off as one of the tentacles shoved into his mouth, filling it up and squirming around until he gagged. It felt thick and heavy on his tongue, the flavour inherently sharp while bitter at the same time, rather displeasing.

The other three tentacles all busied around his aching heat, toying and teasing him until one took the plunge and shoved into him with no prep or thought. His yell was muffled by the appendage down his throat, eyes wide and body struggling as he felt the thick tentacle slide deeper and deeper into him, splitting his walls and exploring him like he was a tunnel. Eyes rolling back he clawed at Nightmare's back uselessly, legs twisting and jumping as he felt his body being split in half, the tentacle knotting and twisting impossibly far inside of him.

He wanted to scream, shout, cry and thrash, yet he couldn't, body restrained and vocals cut off. He could only struggle uselessly, eye sockets burning with moisture and face so hot it made him lightheaded. Any sense dissolved from his conscious as the tentacle rested there, happy with its current position stuffing him ready for some culinary filling.

When it started thrusting? He felt like his bones might crumble underneath him, his body constricting as he shrieked. It was unlike anything he could have ever experienced before, eyes rolling so far back that he saw only black. Despite the movements not being particularly fast he felt as if they could be tearing him apart, every shifting inch sending immeasurable waves of ecstasy and pain through his body. It was a roughly marbled mix, one that hit at different times and had him either wailing or screaming.

"Gosh, you're so noisy." Nightmare shook his head in amusement at the smaller's ruined expression and wiped a little bit of saliva from the mess that caked his chin heavily, soon dismissing it on his suit after. He knew he'd picked the right partner. His only response of course was more noise, strangled and choked moans fleeting from his stuffed mouth.

Despite all the fun he found himself getting impatient, conscious of the knowledge that anyone could wander in on Reaper's body soon. He'd hate to break up their session early because someone took the long walk round to storage or navigation.

The tentacle inside slowly and reluctantly slid out of Cross after the first orgasm, his body jerking and trembling with it as he wailed uselessly, panting in messy gasps. A brief flash of relief seemed to cross his face before it was quickly shattered as another tentacle took its place, wiggling itself inside of him to continue the violation. It was a constant cycle of fucking and penetration, the skeleton's voice getting weaker and weaker with each passing moment as he slumped against him.

Groaning lowly Nightmare kept him up against the door, murmuring words that went completely unheard to Cross as the tentacle in him swelled. It was only when he felt the first bulging lump that the Crewmate froze, body twisting in confusion at the feeling. By the time he figured out what was happening the third egg was inside of him. The tentacle in his mouth slid out and he gasped down air.

"Wh- whAT the f-FfUcK-!" He choked down moans as his pupils shakily fixed on the soft lumps that rippled along the tentacle, pushing inside of him where they floated in his empty anatomy. Watching in horror he strained weakly against Nightmare's hold, stomach feeling tied in horrible knots as one by one oval eggs forced their way into him through those sickly appendages.

Sensing his fear the impostor chuckled. "I won't fertilise them, don't worry. You don't fit the criteria to carry the next generation."

Disgusting as the words were Cross felt relief at them, his vision hazy and mind spinning like a carousel ranked up to the highest speed. He wasn't sure quite when he passed out, his last conscious sight being his swollen stomach and the tentacle pulling free of him with a filthy and sloppy noise, liquid leaking to the floor. And then he was dropped, and everything went black.

😳•~~~•😳

Nightmare watched as Cross passed out scornfully, shaking his head in amusement at how easy it had been to ruin the skeleton completely. Letting his tentacles slither and morph into his back they disappeared out of sight behind his suit, completing his disguise once more as he crouched down to the skeleton's level. His breathing was still irregular and funny, chest jerking up and down occasionally with sharp inhalation between.

"You did well." He rumbled, fingers dragging along the male's damp cheek before pulling back. Now came the task of cleaning him up. As much as he wanted to leave him broken on the floor he knew that would be his alibi trashed and suspicious jabbed in every direction.

"I'll be back." He was aware that the monochrome most likely couldn't hear him, but that wasn't a matter. Stepping over to the vent in the corner he cast one look back before melting, his body spilling through the wide gap grating and rushing into the narrow vent. They were incredible, the vents. The best part about this ship. Moving around was made so much easier, all the hassle of corridors and cameras lost. He systematically wound his way through the underground maze, body rippling with the steady plod of footsteps above him as he moved. Dust.

The skeleton's footsteps were distinct in that they were soft, careful. He was a constant mouse trying to evade being caught by a cat, silent and evasive. More than once he'd nearly been caught by the detective before he'd hidden in the vents.

Everyone's footsteps were distinct to him when he heard them under the vents: Killer's were quick and short paced, a constant drumming patter that usually accompanied the purposeful march of Dream. He walked as if he were always on his way to an important mission, never slowing in his steps. Ink's were light, though not as much as Dust's, almost reminiscent of a dancer that glides smoothly across the floor beneath him.  Thankfully none of them seemed to in need of completing tasks in shields yet. That would buy them some time.

Once sure he was alone he slid up into their barracks, eye flicking over the metal bunk beds that ran along the wall. Half of them were empty, sheets removed and folded neatly for each fallen Crewmate. He couldn't help but grin. That was his own doing. The mental note that another bed would have to be stripped sent shivers down his spine. It was all so much fun.

Stepping forwards he stood before Cross' locker, hand pressing flat against its surface. Slime seeped from his fingertips and spread across the metal door like bleeding veins, creeping around the corners and gaps between the lock. The corrosion was a slow process, one that would most likely be irreversible. It wouldn't matter later.

Clicking softly the lock broke and he felt his lips twitch as the door swung open to reveal the messy locker within. Leaning down he snatched up the folded clean suit left discarded at the bottom. They were supposed to be saved for when they returned to Earth with knowledge of their new world - they'd step off of the ship in the uttermost perfect way the government wanted to portray them. Not beaten and bruised with oil stained suits, no. They'd be clean and pristine, holding hands and bowing as they were applauded. Oh what an applause they'd get.

After tearing the plastic package off of it he rolled it up and shoved the shiny film in the back corner of the locker before it slammed back shut. Within seconds he'd sank back through the grated vent, pulsing through the cold prism and navigating his way back to Cross. Killer and Dream were in storage, close. Time was short.

When he emerged in O2 the doors were still locked and Cross was still dead to the world, curled up weakly on the floor. Rolling his eye he unfolded the suit before dropping it to the floor in an unattractive pile. Stepping on top of it he scraped the suit across the floor, the white suit picking up the dust and grime on the floor like a paper clip to a magnet. Paying particular attention to the knees he rubbed it with his hands, pleased to see a mix of his dark slime and dust dirty them. Stepping into the cafeteria with a pristine white new suit on would just as suspicious as turning up covered in blood.

It took around three minutes of filthying the suit before he was mildly convinced it would work. Shuddering lowly his tentacles stretched free of his back and curled around Cross, though this time instead of violating him they eased his bloodied suit off of him, tugging his shorts back up before the evidence was crumpled into a ball and shoved down the vent. He'd throw it in a garbage chute later.

The new suit was wriggled around Cross, the tentacles efficiently slipping it into him and pushing each limb through the arm and leg holes. Once zipped up Nightmare sat down with a hum, cradling Cross' face in his hands. His jaw was bruised and cracked from the hit from Reaper and his lip was split, bleeding in a marbling mix with saliva. He wiped it away with his own sleeve, fingers tracing over the aggressive bruises. There was nothing much he could do about those, but the helmet would cover them up anyway. He was aware that Cross' leg had a hairline fracture on the bones of his knee and his ribs were busted, but fixing those wasn't as necessary. The limp could pose an issue though.

Letting Cross' upper half slump into his lap he hummed lowly, stroking his hand across his feverish skull in slow sweeping motions. One minute more and he'd wake him. They'd have five minutes maximum until someone found Reaper - six if they were lucky.

The time ticked past as solidly as the constant thrum of the engine sent vibrations through his tentacles spilling across the floor and draping across the fallen Crewmate in a makeshift blanket. Not that it made much difference.

Eventually there wasn't any more time to waste.

"Cross, wake up." His voice was a low growl, hands shaking his shoulders and tentacles jabbing at his sides, purposely hitting his broken ribs.

A startled hiss left him and Cross had barely managed to open his eyes before he was pulled roughly to his feet. He stumbled and clung to Nightmare quickly, vision woozy, mind spinning and skull feeling like it had been split in half. He was aching all over as if he'd just been hit with a bus full of school children. He found his speech failed him when he tried to speak, slurring and fumbling as he struggled to stand up straight. Someone had cleaned him up, he knew that from the lack of moisture on his face and he as no longer covered with blood. Nightmare? He'd done that?

"Listen Cross." His voice was smooth and attentive, manipulating his poor mind into thinking his words held some actual emotion. "You need to wake up, we don't have long."

Nodding dumbly he pressed against him, unable to figure out where he was or what he'd done. But he knew one thing in his fuzzy mind, fingers curling around the impostor's tightly. Nightmare would protect him. He was sure.

Looking down at the drowsy and traumatised skeleton Nightmare grinned, his fingers squeezing his hand back with a coo. "That's right, just listen to what I say, and I'll keep you safe. They don't need to know what you did, it can be your secret."

As the sharp blare of an alarm screamed above them he laughed, pulling Cross in a macabre dance of a spin, keeping his body close as the other tripped and stumbled. "It's your chance to shine, Cross."

The monochrome nodded and Nightmare smiled, the doors to O2 sliding open as they stepped out, his legs wobbly like a toddlers. As they walked to cafeteria he wondered who would get the blame this time.

Who would unfairly lose their life?

He didn't much care.

The cafeteria was silent for an awful heavy weighted minute. Everyone had marched to shields to view Reaper's body before they'd been ushered back to the cafeteria where tensions lay heavier than Cross' tattered pride. Their tablets lay in a circle around the centre table with the voting system designed by Error on full display for them to see.

"Before we make any.. rash decisions, I suggest we think before we speak." Nightmare's voice was smooth with underlying tones of threat, eye flicking over the five (excluding him) Crewmates. "We've been careless with ejecting Horror and Error. This time needs to be different."

Cross' face stayed blank as he spoke, gaze straight forwards. He wasn't sure where Nightmare picked up his ability to lie so smoothly, but he was glad that he wouldn't be on the accusing end of that sharp silver tongue.

Ink pulled his helmet off, resting it on his hip while his white pupils flicked over them duly. "I was in admin, checking everyone's positions."

Cross could have sworn he saw his gaze lingering on Nightmare for a moment and he felt himself inherently stiffen. But he remembered what the imposter had murmured to him as they held back to stare at Reaper's body a little longer than the others.

Act as if any accusations towards us aren't a surprise. Panicking makes you sus.

"I was in electrical." Dust murmured, voice a mumble as his eyes fixed on Cross. For a brief second he glanced down at himself in the worry he hadn't really had his suit changed and he was really stood before them coated in blood. Perhaps the knife was there gripped in his right hand too? But it wasn't. It was his mind playing tricks, they weren't really staring-

"Cross and I were in O2." Nightmare spoke carelessly, as if their proximity to the body wouldn't be sus in the slightest. But when Dust and Ink muttered a simultaneous "I heard" his face flushed. That's why they were staring - not because he was suspicious or covered in blood. It was because they'd heard him at his most derogatory position he'd ever found himself in. In the moment he wished they'd seen him kill Reaper instead.

Dream crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the tablets before them. "Killer was with me in reactor. I had to calibrate it and he watched my back."

"Ah, that's always the case, isn't it?" Nightmare sighed lowly and his gaze swept to the couple with a shining malice Cross could sense from a metre to his side. "Always creating alibis for each other that no one else can confirm."

The yellow Crewmate seemed to stand up taller, a jeering sneer leaving him. "Oh? Do you have a problem with that?"

"I'm afraid I do." He pushed himself up on the toes of his feet for a moment with a chuckle. "As far as we're aware, you two could be a double act, taking it in turns to kill poor Crewmates and then posing as each other's alibis. It's a painfully simple method, yet I'm sure you'd rate its success level high up until now, wouldn't you Dreamy?"

Bristling the skeleton placed his helmet down on the table with a resounding thud that caused no one but Dust to flinch. "You might as well talk for yourself, look at how you defend Cross with your cute little alibi."

"Defend Cross?"

The tone of his voice made the monochrome's stomach sink and his pupils flicked over to Nightmare who waved a hand airily in his direction. "Oh I'm not defending him, in fact, maybe it was him?"

At that he felt he might throw up. He desperately tried to make eye contact with Nightmare, wanting to scream and shout at him; ask what the hell he was doing, what his game was, why was he blaming him? But of course he couldn't scream, left standing there stiffly with wide eyes, his fingers itching with an unquenchable rash.

Shut up- SHUT UP-

He tried to portray the message as best as he could, his suit suddenly feeling far too hot and heavy around him, weighing on his shoulders as if dragged down by water. His helmet might as well have been made from solid gold, sinking his skull down to his shoulders while his breath fogged up the glass faster then the filters could clean it.

But Nightmare didn't get the message. "He never scanned at Med bay, he's a clear introvert who hates all of us, he slinks around and no one ever really knows where he is or what he's up to during the day. Never takes his helmet off unless to eat. And just the other day he was speaking about how he's pretty skilled with a knife."

"Nightmare-" His vision spun before him, feet feeling unsteady and precarious beneath him as he felt the blood roaring in his skull. He felt as if he were about to faint, taking a slight shuffle back as everyone's eyes stabbed into him like the knife he drove into Reaper's skull. Every inch of him was screaming for him to run, instinct wanting him to get as far away from here as possible. But his knee was damaged, his balance was at the level of a toddlers. He would make it three steps.

The impostor's gaze only shifted slightly as he saw Cross' choked panic, eye narrowing. Reaching out a hand he gripped his wrist, giving the needed stability to stop him from plummeting to the floor.

Act as if any accusations towards us aren't a surprise. Panicking makes you sus.

Nightmare's words surfaced in his head once more but he found them useless, his breath caught in his throat as he watched Killer, Dream, Dust and Ink stare at him. He was panicking. He was making himself look sus.

It was when Ink started reaching for his tablet that the taller finally spoke. "But then again.." He trailed off and Ink paused, everyone's attention shifting off of Cross and to the dark skeleton.

The crushing pressure in his chest faded slightly and he felt he could breathe once more, vision swimming as he tried to compose himself. He wanted to stab Nightmare, stab him right through the spine and twist the blade. Twist it till he snapped.

"But then again what?" Dream snapped, expression impatient as Nightmare paused to let Cross at least stop having a panic attack.

"...Wasn't Killer demonstrating his knife skills the other day? First week into our journey? I specifically remember him telling us he once broke up a bar fight by stabbing a knife through the darts board they were arguing over? He showed his impressive aiming and strength, it would have been easy to break Reaper's skull with any blade he could get his hand on."

Cross could remember the day well. Killer had demonstrated by using a cafeteria plastic plate as the dart board and used a metal knife (this was before they'd all been removed) to spear it in mid air against the wooden cork board with their map and course pinned to it. They'd all cheered and clapped him and he'd bowed and faked autographs before pressing a daring kiss on Dream's nose and was then chased around the ship for the next hour. It had been simpler times.

Dream found himself gripping Killer's hand tightly, his voice a warning growl. "I wouldn't go there if I were you."

"Why not?" He tipped his head to the side. "He's the only one here with a criminal record - that's not business related - there's only so much shady past you can dig up before you've really got to think."

Fingers clasping around his partner's Killer cleared his throat. "Let it not go unnoticed that every meeting we've had, you're always the one to accuse. And you're always wrong."

"Awful coincidences, I'm sure." He drawled lowly, an arm wrapping around Cross' waist to pull him close. It wasn't an act of affection - nothing close. It was a clear message.

Get your act together.

Ducking his head to the floor Cross took a few deep breaths to steady himself before he stared up at Killer, composed. He wouldn't embarrass himself again. "Nightmares right."

All eyes were back on him but this time he didn't falter, eyes steady and breathing calm as he tugged his hand free of Nightmare's grip. He didn't need his help now. "Killer definitely has the knife skills. And we know he's in a relationship with Dream, meaning he could easily convince him to cover up any murders or work as his alibi. Only Dream can ever vouch for him, never anyone else."

A sharp nudge from Nightmare was enough for him to know he'd said enough and he went silent, letting out a shaky breath that echoed in his head and his only. It was confined in his helmet, yet felt so loud. He was really going to be condemning another innocent Crewmate to death.

Stepping in front of Killer Dream gave an impressive hiss, a snake who's quarry had just been threatened. "Don't make accusations you can't back up, Cross."

His mouth pressed in a thin line as Dream picked up his tablet. "We vote skip. Throwing another person out with no evidence is exactly what we should be avoiding, not throwing out innocent Crewmates."

Nightmare gave a sharp tut before Ink spoke up, voice gravelly. "As much as I'd like to agree, we need to get rid of someone - or we'll be picked off like fruit flies in a cave of bats."

"Isn't what what we're already doing-?" Dream snarled, hands clenching into fists. "Taking random guesses and hoping for the best before simply ejecting another innocent while this damn impostor continues to kill us? We're only helping them with this stupid system-!"

Ink was silent for a mere moment, unaffected by Dream's composure. "I kept my composure when my partner was under verbal attack, I ask you to be the same when we accuse your little puppy."

Killer's brow shot up sharper than a blade, the comment having either amused or irritated him. "I say it's Cross. I'm innocent."

All within an instant that crushing chain had jerked roughly around his soul once more, clamping down and squeezing until he felt it could split. Voice dry and tongue heavy he tipped his head to the side. "Firing accusations? Hypocritical."

"I can see blood under your helmet, Cross."

I'm an instant his world went cold and he sent a rather poorly hidden desperate look at Nightmare who only chuckled in response. "I don't know if you were listening before, Killer, but Cross and I were a little.. preoccupied in O2."

Dust rolled his eyes and he felt his stomach twist.

"I may have left a few.. accidental marks on him, that's all." He lightly tapped at his own neck to push the message across and Killer scoffed. Though now he looked nervous. Dream looked like he was about to tear someone's skull off of their shoulders. "Surely I needn't make him strip to show all the marks? It's a clear enough alibi that he was in no right state to be chasing Reaper through the ship and stab him. Unless it wasn't actually Cross I was buried deep in?"

Cheeks burning Cross inwardly reminded himself to kill Nightmare when this was over, resisting the urge to at least punch him in the gut.

"You're only making yourself more sus, Killer. You're a good kid, really, but the odds aren't stacking up well for you." Everyone watched as Nightmare lazily picked up his tablet before pressing on Killer's icon and certifying his vote. "It's the most logical option."

Inhaling sharply Cross hesitated slightly as he noticed the sudden spark of a different emotion in Killer's usually blank eyes. Fear. His cool facade was cracking slightly, splitting under pressure as his fingers clasped around Dream's tightly. Voting for him would tear the two apart and kill an innocent. He'd be ruining another future, another possible outcome, missing another chance to end this nightmare and have the real impostor exposed. He'd be playing right into Nightmare's hands once more, his damn puppet to play with.

The strings tugged and he found his feet moving forwards, hands stretching out to pick up his tablet from which his hand forcefully dragged itself over, hovering over Killer's name and freezing for a moment as he caught Dream's stare. He too looked different. Scared.

His finger pressed the icon.

"You little-" Dream's attempt to step over was thwarted as Nightmare stepped in front, pushing him back.

"Now now sunshine, stay in your place." It was a heavy growl, one that only sparked the anger in Dream's eyes sharper. But he looked away from Nightmare, staring at Ink. Stepping over he hissed. "Ink. You and I both know it isn't him-"

He gave a dry laugh, pupils shining grey as he pushed Dream's hand away. "Where were you when I needed you to save Error?"

The Crewmate yelled and aimed a punch at the artist but he found himself restrained by Nightmare, spitting and kicking as he watched another vote add on to Killer. The man who'd made his time bearable on this ship, the one who'd helped him come out of his shell, who'd stopped him stressing over his brother, who'd made him laugh, made him feel like he was needed in the world. He was going to be torn away from him.

"It's NOT HIM!" He yelled, any composure being lost as he struggled against Nightmare.

As Cross' gaze swept over to Dust he saw the skeleton drop his tablet to the floor, shaking his head as the glass splintered and cracked over the floor, emotions fracturing. "I can't do this-" He mumbled, pushing his head into his hands and shaking as he stepped back. "I can't do this- I can't do this anymore- I can't-"

With Dust refusing to vote not even Killer and Dream voting for skip would save him. Dream let out a panicked yell as Ink grabbed onto Killer's arm, roughly dragging the fighting skeleton to the room.

"KILLER!" He kicked, punched and nearly bit Nightmare a few times, eyes wide and panicked as he watched the man he used to consider his friend drive a kick to his lover's knees to send him crumpling to the floor with a crunch.

"DREAM-!" The panic in Killer's voice was more raw and heavy, actions getting more and more frantic as he was forced towards the room. Cross had never seen him like this before; scared. He was always laughing, flitting, making dark jokes or boasting. He seemed the sort of person that didn't fear death, or at least he didn't until he found something he'd lose if he did. Right now he looked truly terrified, a hand outstretched to grasp air before he was given one final shove and was sent staggering into the room.

Once the door was locked Nightmare released the Crewmate, smirking as he watched him throw himself against the door, pounding his fist against the glass. He was yelling for Ink to open the latch, for someone to stop the countdown, for anyone to do anything.

But nobody came to his aid, all watching as the once stoic and strong skeleton seemed to crumble, eyes fixing on Killer.

Through the glass the image of him was slightly blurred and for a horrifying moment Dream realised he had nothing to remember the skeleton by.

I don't like taking pictures with me in them.

That's what he'd said when Killer had teasingly tried to take a selfie of the two of them. Now he wished desperately more than anything that he could have three hundred of those dumb stupid photos to look at. He had nothing. No items of clothing, no mementos, no letters or writing. Just the irreplaceable image of his smirking face lingering in his mind as well as all the words he'd spoken to him.

As the timer steadily ticked down above them he found himself at a loss of breath, watching as Killer made a circular motion over his helmet, expression weak.

My angel.

That's what he'd called him. The most god awful nickname he'd ever been given. He wished he could hear him say it ten thousand times.

You know angels aren't actually all pretty and sweet, right? They're actually more dangerous than demons in the bible.

That had been his initial response as he'd stared at the skeleton who stared down at him over the cafeteria table, a cream cheese bagel in his hands.

All the more fitting.

That's what he'd said.

Staring weakly Dream nodded, taking one last look at Killer and the memories they'd made before the air lock opened and he was torn from his grasp, thrown out into the cold and crushing embrace of space.

"Y'know there's actually one thing I'm pretty terrified of."

He'd spoken to him one night when everyone was asleep in their bunks and he'd been yet to go up to his own one, head resting on the taller's chest as he'd hummed for him to continue. It had been around the time after Horror's death.

"Dying alone. Yeah- I know it sounds stupid, but I really can't think of anything worse than being lost in the darkness of space with only three hours of oxygen yet no concept of time, waiting for help you know that will never come. It scares me shitless, Dream."

Sinking to his knees Dream slammed his fist against the metal door. He didn't need to look to know he was shaking.

"I'm sorry-" He choked, knowing that he wouldn't hear him. God he hoped he'd understand. "I'm so sorry."

—————

Cross felt sick as he sat down on one of the beds in Med bay, removing his helmet in a fumbled motion to hopefully gasp down some sweeter air. It tasted stale.

Laughing carelessly Nightmare grinned widely, arms stretched up in the air as if reaching for heaven. He'd have to be delusional to think he'd be accepted through those golden gates. "We're nearly done Cross - only three more and then it's just us."

Just us.

Never had such a short sentence left such an impact. It played on his mind like an incessant rash, fingers twitching as they traced over the ugly bruises that ran down his neck. What would happen after that? Would Nightmare change his ways and stop scaring him so much? Or would he eventually get bored of him just like he'd done with the rest of the crew, kill him off and leave only himself. The second one seemed more legible.

"What now?" His voice was dry and scratchy, the image of Killer and Dream being torn apart still sharp in his mind. But he replaced it with Nightmare, the dark demon stepping towards him, a hand gripping his jaw.

"I think what you're trying to ask is this; who will you make me kill next?"

His stomach twisted but his face stayed blank, nodding. "Yes." The crunch of Reaper's skull splintering beneath him replayed through his mind and he winced upon thinking he'd have to do the same again, once more.

"Don't look so worried~" A long tongue flicked out to drag over his white teeth and he leaned down to press a haunting kiss on his cheek. "I'll help you this time, there'll be no need to worry. We can trust each other after all."

"Can we-?" The sentence came out as a spit and he pushed the taller's hand away. "Mind telling me what that little stunt was in the cafeteria was-? You nearly got me thrown out-!"

"Oh?" He sniffed distastefully and inspected the tips of his fingers for a moment. "It was just a little game, you weren't supposed to take it seriously. Though your fear was admittedly delicious."

"Never fucking do it again-" It was a warning, one that he knew Nightmare wouldn't take seriously in the slightest.

"Fine, fine." He rolled his eyes and held out a hand, all fingers curled except his pinkie.

Scoffing loudly Cross stared at him. "What are we, five?"

"Soon to be four." His lip twitched upwards and the skeleton have him a weary look.

"As if a pinkie promise means shit to you."

"It's all I'm offering."

He felt silly as he reached out and curled his own pinkie around the impostor's, nodding. "So be it." In a way he felt as if he'd just sold his soul to the devil, their pinkies staying intertwined for a moment longer before he shoved his hands under his armpits and scowled at the floor.

Nightmare seemed satisfied and wandered over to the self scanner, eye flickering over the structure many of them had stood on over and over. It seemed they hadn't even cared Killer had scanned and proved himself skeleton only. These fools were losing their fragile minds.

Cross found his gaze following him and he couldn't help but think back to that evening months ago, when he'd told the creature to scan. And he had.

Maecenas-Ripper

That's what he was.

"Hey-" His voice came out a sharp bark across the rippling silence and he flinched, Inwardly cringing at himself. But it got the other's attention and he turned to face his partner. "Hm?"

"Tell me what you are-" The words were unsure and irritatingly shaky, eyes fixed on the faux-skeleton as he chuckled.

"You already know, Cross."

Maecenas-Ripper.

"No, you haven't. You said you weren't always this way; tell me what happened." As the taller stood over him he steadied his nerves, a brow twitching upwards. "You owe me."

"Do I?" The fake concern in his voice was sickening as he chuckled. "Maybe you think I do."

"I know you're probably dying to tell someone. Who else will know your story if not me?" It was a sad grab but he reached for it. He needed a story - anything - to distract himself of what had happened just outside of the doors and along the corridor a mere twenty minutes ago.

"Am I?" Once again he grinned down at him before he sat down next to him on the bed with an amused barking laugh. "Alright, I'll tell you - but it'll be our little secret."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he nodded.

Slouching over the metal rail at the end of the bed Nightmare hummed lazily. "You see, this isn't the first time Earth has sent someone to this 'New Earth'."

Already he wanted to speak, yet he stayed silent.

"The Government had already sent up a ship much smaller than the Skeld up to this miracle planet to do reconnaissance, check their predictions of being in a possible Goldilocks zone was true; it was. Samples were collected from every rock, shrub, scratchy liquids and air. And life. Life had been found on the planet in the form of a being in its cellulose stage. A meagre puddle of black matter that reacted to the movements of the drone sent out. Of course those greedy fools up in their big chairs back at Earth couldn't resist the urge to take it back with them-"

"-So they took a sample, collecting one small test tube worth of that micro orgasm to bring back to our crumbling nation triumphant. Life! They would cry. Proof that there can be life on ERTH-02. In truth, they were correct. On that planet thousands of miles away, one small manifesting creature had formed from the world's core, seeping to the surface undisturbed where it would have stayed if not for your leader's little mission. Safely stored in the ship the sample was brought back to Earth in an operation that took just shy of a month in all. And that's when the invites were sent out-"

"-Each of us were picked meticulously from billions of people. Fourteen out of billions. I had been funding the project from its fetal stages so of course I was offered. I graciously accepted. The CEO life was becoming a tire. I had too much money to spend, too many people desiring me, too many responsibilities. So I thought I'd drop them all for a three month vacation to space. I must have joined the facility around two weeks before you came in, all moody and stoic. Being an investor, I had 'backstage passes' to the facility; one day I stumbled upon the lab-"

"-It was an innocent blunder, really. I had been simply wandering around and found misled drawn into the room of endless samples and data. There were test tubes lining every shelf, large water filled tanks with off plants submerged and hovering in suspension. They were trying to discover everything they could about this new world they'd make our home. Yet I found myself inexplicably pulled towards the smallest sample in the room. Locked in a glass case a small and pathetic looking puddle centred in the middle. At first I thought it was perhaps ERTH-02's possible version of water. But then it moved-"

"-I was foolishly curious, tired of the secrets the officials kept from me with deplorable lies and excuses. As if they thought I wouldn't see the shadows behind their eyes as they spoke. They were hiding something, and that, was this puddle. They had named it.. Maecenas-Ripper. Grabbing one of the scrawled booklets they'd made of it I left and spent the next three days learning all that I could from their notes. They recorded it as a sort of parasite, a type that only formed when the matter and particles in the air rubbed wrongly together and corrupted the atmosphere with some nasty new chemicals. To stop the planet system from dying the atmosphere simply forced out the poison in the form of these ugly black puddles-"

"-They have no real body or source of energy, so they suck it from other life forms - absorbing all the mitochondria, starch and chloroplasts from the few plants that grew there and leaving them as shrivelled corpses before seeping across the ground, searching for their next meal before they'd repeat the process. Like some deathly Grim Reaper. They actually named it after the famous English serial killer Aaron Kosminski after how it left the organisms it consumed. You might know him by his stage name; Jack the Ripper. It was fascinating, really-"

"-I intended to leave it at there and that would be that. But I felt it calling me. All day I'd feel drawn to that room, pulled by some sort of pulsing magnet towards that laboratory I was forbidden from. And at night the pull would only get stronger, a wailing call of a creature desperate to be freed. I suppose I wasn't in the right state of mind, that or I wasn't strong enough to resist its calling-"

"-I snuck out of our beds just after two AM and broke into the laboratory. You'd think they'd have fixed the damn thing with an alarm system, but no. All I needed was to swipe an admin card from a cocky worker and I was in. Once inside the magnet was too powerful to ignore and I found myself stood before the glass box. It only took a crowbar to open it enough for a crack of air to filter through. It shot out faster than a bullet and hit me right in the chest. For a moment I really thought I'd been shot, running out of that lab faster than a dog for dinner. Back at the barracks I went to sleep and tried to think nothing of it. By the morning, I'd changed-"

"-I became hyper aware. Everything was so much clearer, my senses keen and mind sharpened. I felt elite. The parasite had taken me as a hoast and I believe it had intended to eat me like a plant. But bone isn't a material it's used to - calcium doesn't exist in is world, it's a foreign concept. It couldn't kill me, so steadily worked to infect me instead, poisoning my body until I found I was able to mutate in the most fascinating ways. I could stretch- grow limbs, form secondary body parts and even infinite nervous systems. I had become immortal. I had merged with the Maecenas Ripper. We became one."

Cross inhaled sharply, his mind fumbling to grasp his words. "And no one found out-?"

"Even if they did they could hardly announce it. How do you think it would sound if they admitted a parasitic life devouring slime was o! the loose? They'd risk losing all their test subjects." He pressed a finger against Cross' chest. "And that's you."

He shivered deeply and stared at his chest, a hand reaching up to press against it softly. "...And it's inside of you?"

"It's eating away at my brain, Cross."

For a brief second he thought he saw a flash of emotion blink across Nightmare's face, his eye pained for all of a breath before his face twisted in that terrible smirk once more.

"But that's enough of that, you've steered the topic off course."

He desperately wanted to rekindle that spark of emotion yet it was already buried deeply once more, his face moulding time hide behind the one of the Maecenas Ripper.

"I need to tell you who I want dead next~" His voice dripped with excitement and Cross leaned back a little on the bed, regretting their close proximity all of a sudden as he waited for whoever's unfortunate name would drip from his pointed tongue.

"That wont be necessary."

Both impostors froze and Nightmare hissed, his neck snapping at an impressive 90 degrees to stare at the tall figure stood in the doorway to Med Bay. "Don't you know how rude it is to eavesdrop?"

The male laughed dryly, broken and cracked as he stepped into the light, eyes blank and dead as space as he spoke.

"Ink dies next."

Cross inhaled sharply, feeling Nightmare's claws release his leg, a rumbling laugh leaving him that aged like a fine wine. He seemed beyond pleased, tongue flicking out as his tentacles twitched.

"The honour will be all yours, Dream."

————

Ink didn't move when the lights flickered off, his gaze momentarily shifting upwards to stare at the faded glow the bulbs left behind as the ship plunged into darkness. The Admin room wasn't completely dark, the blue glow of the large screen in front of him casting a soft luminosity and highlighting the creases in his battered suit.

Pricking in the back of his skull his pupils stayed fixed on the dotted figures darting across the screen and displaying the last five remaining Crewmates. It was the system he'd requested for Error to make him before he'd been thrown from the Skeld. The use was simple; it monitored everyone's whereabouts. He could see himself, a yellow blob on the screen in the blueprinted map room of Admin. Crawling across storage a blob advanced towards lights. He assumed it was Dust. And then bundled in Med Bay, the remaining three.

Frowning softly he rubbed his chin and stared. Error hadn't had the time to develop it enough to state the names of the players - he'd been dead before it was possible. But he was fairly certain he knew. Cross, Nightmare and Dream. Whether they were simply sticking together for safety or were plotting something, he didn't care.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of his battered sketchbook, twitching. A torn page poked free loosely from the edge, faint and rushed scribbles shown beneath. He already knew what it was. Reaching out he grabbed it and turned the page. It was Error's drawing, the killer profile he'd created for him all those days ago. It felt like years.

For a while his eyes lingered on the page before he tore it from the book, crumpling it in his hands with a snarl before dropping it to the floor. Beneath him lay the profile of Reaper, another suspect proven innocent by death. Hissing under his breath he tore that page out too, throwing it to the floor. Error's profile followed after, and then Lust's, and then Geno's, and then Horror's. One by one he ripped them free of the leather bound book, crumpled paper littered around him like a puddle of water.

Panting softly his eyes glared at the profile of Killer before that joined them. His gaze burned into the illustration of Dust and he shook his head, running a hand over his skull messily. It couldn't be Dust, if it was he himself would have most likely been his first target. And getting Horror thrown out? That wasn't fitting. Beneath his drawing the cold expression of Cross stared back at him, the slight smirk on his lips mocking him from the paper. With a snarl he found himself tearing that piece to ribbons too, his fingers scrambling to grip onto the edge of the page depicting Nightmare before that too was ruined. Now it was Dream's turn to judge him, his expression betrayed and beyond furious. He wished he hadn't drawn them so realistically.

He'd just got a good grip on the page and was ready to tear it when the Admin screen flickered. Pausing sharply Ink found his gaze locked on the screen pupils locking on the three blobs stood Med Bay. They were on the move.

Fizzling, the screen went black.

Cursing sharply he jumped to his feet, the sketchbook thrown aside and dropped to the floor, pages flying everywhere. Curling his hand into a fist he slammed it against the screen with a yell. It glitched, lines and colours running across the screen before it flickered back on. They were in the cafeteria now.

Blackness consumed the screen again and he kicked the machine, vaguely aware of the drudged emptiness in his chest. This time when it flashed back on they were at the corridor. His hands pressed flat against the glass as they edged closer, jumping with every dark spot until they were just outside the room.

Spinning on his heels he felt himself reach for the gun he'd kept in his pocket. For emergencies. Yet a sharp pressure on his shoulders sent him staggering backwards into his seat, the legs nearly falling right back as he teetered for a moment. His pupils strained in the dark, picking out the silhouette of his attacker stood illuminated by the flashing light of the Admin system.

Managing a dry sneer he gripped the arms of the chair. "I know it's you, Nightmare."

The figure barked a laugh with a voice much sweeter than the assumed skeletons, the tone heavy with a rich poison. "Guess again."

A sharp hiss left him as a the sliver blade of a knife pressed against his neck, it's surface already coated in a dry layer of blood. A hand slid across his shoulder and the figure leaned forwards, golden pupils void of emotion.

"Dream-?"

"Correct." His hand curled around to grip the back of his neck and he slowly straddled him, the blade pressing hard enough to nick the bone. "But nice try."

He laughed weakly and stared up at him, his throat twitching as he felt the cold point. "And what kind of mutiny do you call this?"

"Revenge." The word was a sharp snarl, singing loudly as the knife dragged through the artist's neck as if it were cheese. Ink's cocky expression was lost in seconds and he gargled, hands reaching up to grasp at his neck uselessly, blood pouring through his fingers like running water. It stained his clothes and splashed over Dream, staining his hands as he laughed. Properly laughed. It was the sort of laugh you'd give after hearing an incredibly funny joke, one that would plague your mind for days after and send a little giggle through your system every time you heard it.

Ink's body kept twitching and he raised the blade again, stabbing it deep into his shoulder and enjoying the drowned scream he got in response. It only made him laugh more as he brought the blade down upon him over and over again until every inch of life had fled from his mangled body.

Gulping down air he lurched away from his body, the knife gripped firmly as he stared at his Captain's body, grin wide and smeared with blood. He was completely oblivious to the impostor duo that watched him keenly, only having time to look up at the ceiling and closing his eyes, breathing shaky.

"Did you see that, Killer? That's what an angel can do."

————

Neither of them stopped him as he dropped the knife, running out of Admin with his boots slipping in blood. He was duly aware of the lights flashing back on, the light seeming red in his bloodied craze. Skidding into the cafeteria he only had eyes for one thing. The ejection door.

He didn't slow for a second, striding over quickly and gripping the handle to wrench it open. A cold breath of air washed over him and he sighed, breathing it in as if he were inhaling fresh Air from Earth.

Slamming the door shut behind him he dropped his helmet to the floor and kicked it aside, satisfied by the crack that followed suit. He shook out his hands and rolled his neck back, eyes fixed on the heavy doors before him that had snatched Killer from his hours ago.

His body was most likely miles behind them in space, lifeless and dull as he floated through the black nothingness.

It scares me shitless, Dream.

"Me too." He muttered to no one but himself, chest jerking  slightly as the countdown started. Twenty seconds. As he stood there he thought; thought of his brother back at home staring up at the stars with his boyfriend, trying to fruitlessly spot his ship all those thousands of miles into space.

"Look after him, please." He said it as if to justify his actions, to wipe the blood from his hands and start a new slate. He knew his brother would never forgive him - how could he? He was a selfish monster, a terrible brother, guardian lover. But he'd progress without him - he knew he would. He had to.

His mind drifted back to Killer once more and he smiled weakly, his words running through his mind one last time as he tore the oxygen tubes from his suit.

He welcomed the heavy chunk of the doors, the cold grip that rushed at him being more of a comfort than anything as he felt himself tip forwards into the empty abyss.

Closing his eyes, he breathed.

————

Dust knew something had gone wrong. The lights had blacked out and he'd rushed to fix them, knowing darn well that having an impostor on the loose while your vision was in the minus numbers wasn't entirely great.

Fumbling with the switches he cursed and hissed to himself, fingers shaking as they flicked them up one by one. He was ever conscious that he could be jumped, stabbed through the back or torn apart by the unknown creature that had boarded their ship like a disease.

It had been when he'd reached for the last two switches that the commotion sounded from the other side of the ship and he felt bile rise in his throat. That could be another friend murdered, another Crewmate lost to the beast. Shamefully he took a few seconds to throw himself from the panic before he hurriedly pushed the last two switches. Spinning around quickly he pressed his back against the wall, eyes scanning the open doorway before him. Empty.

Inhaling shakily he sank back against the wall for a moment, attempting fruitlessly to calm his shaking nerves as he breathed in deeply. His best chance was to group up with someone - they would be safer in pairs.

Stepping forwards he aimed towards the door, yet paused as he heard a soft creek behind him. His mind was already screaming as he slowly turned, his fingers trembling and gripping the fabric of his suit as his eyes rested on the vent in the dark corner of electrical.

One piercing blue eye stared back at him.

"Boo."

Staggering back he yelled, watching as the vent opened and a horrific mass of death spilled free of it, rising up high above him and lurching forwards, appendages stabbing.

Ducking to the floor he broke off in a sprint, his skull ringing with the monster's cackling laugher as he stumbled down to corridor at a sprint. Hand running along the wall he gripped the ending corner, propelling himself round into storage.

No more than two steps later a knife swept round and he very nearly screamed, falling to his knees to scrape under the blade and Cross' aimed lunge. Spitting and panting he powered past him, soul thundering in his chest like crazy.

It was them. Nightmare. Cross. They were the ones that had killed everyone: Sci, Blue, Geno, Lust, Reaper. Even Horror. And Error. Killer. They'd done it.

Praying with all his might he skidded round the corner to Admin. Ink was always there- he'd know what to do- he'd help him-

He nearly reached across the floor.

Ink's mutilated body lay slumped in his chair, neck snapped and slit, blood coating his rainbow suit in a hideous display of macabre art. His eyes darted down to the gun laying splashed with red by his feet and he scrambled to grab it, wishing to god he hadn't seen the form of Nightmare erupting from the vents. His laugh was deep and haunting, piercing through his skull like a burning needle.

Dream. He had to find Dream.

Looking around in a panic, he felt his soul plummet in his chest. Through the small window in the ejection room he could see a silhouette stood tall, their helmet discarded and oxygen tank torn.

It was all he could do to yell before countdown hit zero and he was snatched away before his eyes.

"It's just you Dust~!" An excited voice called and he whipped around to see the two figures emerge from the shadows, grind pearly and unbearable.

Hands shaking he fumbled to raise the gun, firing two shots directly at Nightmare's skull. They might as well have been nerf bullets. The monster's body twisted and morphed, two holes showing through his skull before they slowly knitted back together and leaving him unharmed.

He felt lightheaded as he stepped backwards, the sharp edge of a table digging into the back of his knees and he nearly fell. His face was flushed in fear, sweat beading at his skull as he fired another useless shot, this time aiming for Cross. Yet he missed, the bullet exploding against the wall behind him.

One bullet left.

They were a mere five metres away when Dust made his decision. He fumbled to grab a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket giving one last look at the happy family depicted on it. A woman, two little kids - a boy and a girl - and Horror. His family he cherished so dearly.

Take care of my kids when you get back.

"I-I'm sorry I couldn't tell them-" As those dark tentacles surged towards him he choked before his finger curled around the trigger and pulled.

He found the blankness a welcoming relief.

————

It was three days later when the Skeld touched down on solid grounds. Steam erupted from the ship's joints and dissipated into the atmosphere as the vessel settled on the uneven terrain. Oxygen levels were low and the reactor had a leak that no one had attended to.

It was a beacon, a solid statement on the previously inhospitable planner. A statement.

We made it to the second Earth. Look how powerful we are.

Not thirteen, but two of the Skeld's passengers stood outside of the ship, its presence unbeknownst to them. It now served no purpose. It had got the job done; make landing at ERTH-02. It had brought him home.

The government had been long awaiting a call or message from the crew, sat up in their silly little chairs in HQ while the world crumbled beneath them, sinking and cracking under the blistering heat that split them open like a bad spot. Earth was being squeezed from either side, the pressure building up inside until it would inevitably pop. Alaska has been lost and Canada was the predicted next victim. Millions still hadn't been able to migrate out, trapped by their neighbouring county's corrupt laws and restrictions.

They'd sit there for years if they had to, waiting for a response they'd never get. The Skeld would never return and the legend of ERTH-02 would forever stay a myth; a children's fantasy which's story would be lost like a whisper in the wind.

There was no wind on this new world, yet the atmosphere was chilling to the bone. It was a barren wasteland full of crippled shrubs and murky brown water that could hold all sorts of diseases. The round was rocky and hard, not in any way legible to grow crops, trees or any sort of Earthly nature. The solar syetem's sun barely reached the planet, leaving everything shadowed by darkness that never seemed to lift nor increase. It was in a constant phase of misery. The chances of setting up a colony here was zero.

The mission had been for nothing.

"I could take all your pain away, you know..?"

The voice was a tempting whisper, one that gripped at you with oh so careful hands, cradling you as if you were the most fragile and precious thing in the world to them, a sharp tonic against dull rain.

"The stress, anxiety.. regrets."

It sent a chill through his body, tendrils curling around him in that ever so slow way, words aristocratic and purposeful, drawing out everything you ever wanted to hear.

"You can become like me."

The blob that rested in his palm twitched softly, melding and shaping itself against the air and running up his fingers before back down in an endless enticing dance. He could feel its tug, it's magnetic pull calling him as his breath fogged the air in front of him.

"It won't hurt, I promise."

Promise. The word was so tempting, a consuming ivy wrapping around his soul as he felt his reasoning fleet from his mind. To be free of guilt. Ridden of regret. Cleared of anxiety. It was an offer an unstable and manipulated man couldn't refuse. Like money being offered for free.

The nod was free flowing and he breathed out cooly, eyes locking with Nightmare as he pressed their foreheads together. The creature grinned sharply and for the second time he'd known him, he saw his genuine face, the one hidden behind that of the Maecenas Ripper.

And he knew he'd made the right decision.

The hit to his chest was sharp as the black mass struck him, it's veins spreading across his torso like an ugly stain, crawling its way over his body and seeping around his bones, clawing up his throat.

As he stared at him silently, he managed the faintest of laughs before he felt it prick his soul.

That's when everything became clear. So, so clear.

————

CENSUS REPORT
Skeld: MIA
Crew: No contact
ERTH-02 operation one: FAILED
Plan of action: Make grounds at Polus

——————————————————————

ITS FINALLY COMPLETE

God that took forever but I'm really really pleased with it.

I cried killing Killer and Dream I can't lie I love them too much 😔😔

Anyways I loved writing all of this and Though the smut was a challenge I enjoyed the manipulation etc it was a fun little ✨M O m e N t✨

Cuz I want to know tell me your favourite:
-Character
-Moment
-Death??

And what you didn't like 😔😔

ANYWAYS

So my sister had started writing a dnf fanfic and I really want her to succeed I've read the draughts and they're really good so spiderworm_ pls go give it a read

And also my best friend is rewriting her BTS x reader fic so go check her out MIDNIGHTGUK  :)

BYEEEEEEEEE

-Jess-