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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 10 days

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Can we get headcannons of the NWTB egos with a reader who’s the embodiment of a child’s fear pretty pretty please 🥺

Oh, fine. But only because you added two "pretties" to your request, lol.

(Side note: I really only write for Phantom, Bones, and Natemare on occasion, so these will just be headcanons for them. I know Nate has more egos than these three, but these are the ones I have an actual attachment to.)

Since fear is such a complex thing, and since there are literally hundreds of phobias out there, we'll just assume that the reader is the embodiment of fear in general, just. . .specifically for kids, I guess.

___

Phantom

If you've read my stories about Phantom, then you know that I personally see him as an eldritch abomination. He wears a glamour to blend in with humans most of the time, but underneath said glamour, he's got all the qualifications. Body horror cranked up to eleven, mind-melting vibes, the whole shebang.

That being said, to compare an embodiment of fear to a creature like him is. . .interesting. Very, very interesting. On the one hand, you're partially the reason Phantom has his status as such a horrific monstrosity. Without fear, he might not have the amount of respect and power he's earned throughout the years.

On the other hand. . .well, he's the kind of thing that adults (humans and lesser-monsters alike) learn to fear one way or another. Although children are always more intelligent and observant than they're given credit for, they just can't exactly process things like Phantom. They can process fear itself, as well as nightmares/terrors, but they can't really grasp something so raw. Interacting with an eldritch creature means having to accept the unacceptable, to confront the fact that the universe is much more fluid and indifferent and wrong than it was already thought to be. And, thankfully, young minds that are so busy developing themselves can't face that stuff for a matter of time.

Anyway, on top of all the outer monstrosity stuff, Phantom is nothing if not a smug bastard. So, he'd definitely use the supernatural/cosmic hierarchy to poke some fun at you. Remember, a lot of his work focuses on stuff like greed or desperation and the like. Oftentimes, a lack of fear is what leads his clients to sign his contracts.

Even so, he'd still hold respect for you. Fear is a completely natural thing for humans; in fact, it's necessary for survival (see the previous passage). Children can use their fears to grow, to discover things about themselves. They can work hard to overcome their fears, and then feel proud and strong once they reach that goal. Even if they don't overcome their fears, they can still find ways to coexist with them. They can learn all sorts of things from their fears. They might draw inspiration from their fears to create art, or use their fears to try and protect others. The possibilities are endless.

___

Bones

As a revenant, Bones is all-too familiar with fear. It was one of the things to overwhelm him as he died, as well as when he entered the process of becoming undead. So, he'd admittedly act hostile toward you at first. (Not like that's too different from how he acts with pretty much everyone.) He may be supernaturally strong and technically immortal, but he's not invulnerable. Nowadays, fear is like a syringe to his pain. It makes his spasms worse, makes his heart and lungs burn, makes his brain swim.

Though he can't remember the majority of his past life, he can remember feeling fear in his childhood. And the lack of memories makes those feelings even worse, because he doesn't know what they were about, or what caused them, or, or, or. . .

Still, in a strange way, a child's fear can hold some portion of a child's innocence. (Keep in mind, this very much depends on circumstance.) And innocence is something Bones hasn't seen or felt for a very, very long time. Interacting with children's fears personified just might provide a brief window to it. That wouldn't really alleviate any of his pain, but it might make him feel calm for a few minutes.

If he were to form a legitimate friendship with you, he could potentially see you as a way to keep kids away from him. Which, in turn, would ensure that no children experience the pain he emits as a revenant. Yeah, Bones is spiteful and negative (and definitely sadistic in certain scenarios), but he's not enough of a monster to want to harm kids.

___

Natemare

If we're keeping the FNAF lore in mind, Natemare is something of a guardian to children, thanks to his ties with the Marionette. Due to that, he'd probably be wary of you at first. The ghostly kids he's cared for in the past were all most certainly scared in the last moments of their lives, and even more so during their afterlives.

Then again, part of Mare's care and guidance for those ghost-children was helping them terrify any living adults who could've been connected to their deaths. And since that's somewhat justified. . .well, it's complicated, but he can still sort of understand your role in the grand scheme of things.

Plus, like I said before with Phantom: fear has a positive side. It's the thing that can prepare kids for the world, help them grow, push them to be careful with the decisions they make. So, with that in mind, Mare would have some genuine respect for you. Perhaps there could be some kind of weird yin-yang scenario between the two of you.

___

(I'm so sorry for all the waxing eloquent here 😅)

@that-bat @th3w00ds @nwtbobsessedemo

#the edgelord gets fed #asks #nathan sharp #natewantstobattle #nwtb egos #phantom nwtb #bones nwtb #natemare nwtb

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breekon--hope · 11 months

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Imagine.

Imagine a Phantom who, for whatever happenstance of his existence, cannot feel positive emotions on his own, all he can do is share the ones of mortals he interacts with. Sure, for a while he is kind with it, he shares and both party seem to win but it's hollow. It doesn’t feel enough for him. So, eventually, he makes his first deal, and takes all that joy and contentedness from them, all for himself. And he feels great. All that joy and contentedness, all for him and him alone. Why should he have to share it with these pathetic mortals, who don't even appreciate their gifts.

So he keeps doing it, making more and more deals to chase that delicious high until, eventually, his deal in his music video, where we see him not as he was, not kind anymore, but truly the selfish dealbroker he was always meant to be. And he feels great.

Imagine

#phantom nwtb #nwtb egos #phantom headcannon #phantom natewantstobattle #natewantstobattle #bones nwtb

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bonesnwtb · 11 months

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Do you know if Nate was in any bands sir or ma'am?

*Bones scoffs* "I don't know much about Nate, cause He's never around, but I'm pretty sure if I remember Mare talking about it, He's in Give A Heart Records, Ghost Fight and Roll For It...but You'd have to ask Nate for His answer, but that's what I heard from Mare."

#bones nwtb #natewantstobattle #nathan sharp #nwtb #role play

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phantom-nwtb · 2 years

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Family Grace

#natemare #natewantstobattle #nwtb #phantom nwtb x reader #Bones NWTB #Skelly #Nathan Sharp

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starlightiing · 1 year

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Me, trying not to be a feral animal and write battle ego drabbles. 😤

#battle egos #nwtb egos #phantom nwtb #bones nwtb #sharper nwtb #sobs

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justwritingscibbles · 2 years

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Hey...I was wondering if you could do a Bones NWTB X Child reader, Where Bones is in His "Home"? I dont know what His place is called, but where A Woman leaves Her Child there and He finds the child? I don't know... You can do whatever you want with this.

Hiya love! Thank you for the sweet request but my commissions and requests are currently closed.

Until I come out of hiatus and am able to write again ❤️

By all means, any other ego writers please reblog this and let them know if your requests/commissions are open. So that their request isnt left unwritten.

#bones #nwtb #battle egos #natewantstobattle #ego #battle ego Bones #request

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thehealingsystem · 2 months

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okay so I made a sandcastle kingdoms one a while back so now for a PIE one!

#natewantstobattle #nwtb #nathan sharp #paid in exposure #alternative rock #polls #indie music

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iamvegorott · 2 years

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Okay, but the others just meeting Skelly, Heathen, Gemstone, Bones, and Brandon, and they’re confused because Phantom and Mare have told them they are the only NWTB egos.

Anti: Why is there more?

Dark: Why is that one looking menacingly at me?

Mad: Why are only two human?

Jackie: Why is the gem one flirting with me?

Wilford: Why do I want to load them in the RV and take them on a crime trip?

Henrik: No, I’m out, no more.

Dr. Iplier: I’m with Henrik.

Jameson: *Signing* Congrats on the new brothers!

Marvin: Did you guys duplicate yourselves?

Chase: Oh can I be the Dad? I wanna to be the Dad!

And many other reactions because I’m out of ideas.

I loved all of these 😆😆😆

#anon

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phant0mh34rt · 2 months

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I wanna write about all i see and take me anywhere,,would yall be interested?

#natewantstobattle #nwtb #nathan sharp #nwtb egos #natemare #natewantstobattle egos #natewantstobtl #bones nwtb

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th3w00ds · 2 months

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Crack My Bones, But My Heart Won’t Break Now (Yandere Bones)

@nwtbobsessedemo @colourfulmes @planetpossum

Title From: Bones by NateWantsToBattle

Fandom: Youtuber Egos

AU: Yandere Bones

Content Warnings: Yandere behavior (Bones), Bones is extremely possessive, torture, Bones tortures and kills reader’s parents, implied chronic pain, kidnapping, imprisonment sort of, reader forced to watch, parents die, unhappy ending, not proofread

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You could barely lift your head high enough to look out the small window in the door from the room you were being kept in, and from what you could see, it was snowing.

In the middle of fucking May. It was snowing.

It snowed whenever he got really mad. God damn it Bones, what are you angry about now?

The revenant was always angry at something or someone. Sometimes it was you, sometimes it was your friends whom he hadn’t even met, sometimes it was just the world. Even if it didn’t seem like he was pissed, deep down he was.

Because of that, sometimes he brought “playmates” to take his anger out on. The poor people never lived once he did, no matter how strong they were. Once you witnessed him beat a ex army man to a bloody pulp with his arms and legs frozen and shattered.

You tugged at the chains wrapped around your wrists and ankles, hoping that maybe today they’d be weaker. Maybe today you’d get out of here.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from outside the door. It had to be Bones. The door handle turned, and it opened, revealing that it was indeed Bones.

“Two things. One, get up when I unlock those chains, and two, don’t fight back at all. Or you know what’ll happen.” He said, walking to you and snapping off the frozen metal chains with his bare hands.

You stood up, and stood still. “What are you… getting me for?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“We have guests, bitch, and I’m going to kill them,” he answered, putting a hand on your back and guiding you out the room and to the big main room of this abandoned building he took you to. You let him push you forward, walking.

Bones sighed, “This will scare you, I know that. But this is the way that I know how to make you mine now and forever. You’ll have nobody to call family after this,” He said. You were confused, and didn’t know what he meant.

When you got to the main room, it took you a moment to register the sight before you. It was your parents, both your mother and your father, with chains of ice holding them to the floor. They looked at you, their faces dropping and freezing their movements, their eyes widening.

“Please, help us, save us-“ Your mother began, choking on her words and tears welling up in her eyes.

“Shut. Up.” Bones interrupted sternly, walking towards your parents. Your mom clamped her mouth shut. “Hmm… let’s start with dad, shall I, love?”

Bones glanced back at you, smiling softly, if such a thing was possible from him, and he clenched his fists. He stepped over to your father, and kicked him roughly in the back.

Your father let out a scream, and your mother gasped in horror.

“That ain’t even the fuckin’ worst of it, not even close!” Bones shouted, ice shards materializing around his right hand. He gripped your father by his hair and punched him hard in the jaw. A loud crack rang throughout the room, and you could hear your father trying to scream.

Bones raised up his right hand again, and a large spike made of ice appeared in his hand. He plunged it deep into your father’s arm, and took it out. Bones laughed at your father’s cries for help, and he stomped down on his back. Another, louder crack rang out. Holy shit. Did he break your dad’s spine?

At the thought that Bones could do that with no effort your blood ran cold. You knew he was strong, but not that strong.

Bones took the ice spike and held it against your dad’s neck, slowly cutting into it, surely killing your dad. Your mom was screaming and crying, and you were frozen in shock and terror.

“Fuck. I thought he’d choke on his blood longer… damn it. But, there’s still the mom!” Bones said, then stepping over to your mom. She jerked backwards, falling into the floor on her back.

“Stop,” Bones snapped, “Your death with be quicker than his,” Bones pointed at your dad’s dead body, “but it will still hurt like hell. Not sorry.”

Bones grasped both your mom’s arms, and you knew what he was about to do; you had seen him do it before after all. Your mom’s arms slowly were coated in ice, becoming it.

Her screaming didn’t stop. Bones then squeezed hard on her arms that were now made of ice, and completely shattered them. Your mom stopped her screaming now, her mouth agape.

Without a word, Bones walked over to her legs, and they quickly became ice as well when he touched them. He gripped harder on them, and they were shattered too. Your mom was hardly breathing, she was probably in shock. He went back to the front of her, and kicked her head, snapping your mom’s neck in one quick movement.

As your parents dead bodies lay there, you were still frozen in terror, shock and sadness. Bones walked over to you, and got in your personal space for a moment.

“There. Now I’m less angry, and you won’t leave me to go back to your family because you have no family,” he said. “Come here.” That was more of an order, but his voice softened when he said it. Maybe it was out of kindness?

You hugged him, starting to sob into his shoulder. You felt him pat your back multiple times, trying to comfort you. It was never really something he was good at.

“Shh.. it’s fine now.” He said, still patting your back. You both stayed there for god knows how long, him holding you and trying to comfort you and you sobbing at the loss of your parents.

“You’re mine. Don’t forget that. I don’t want to hurt you like I do to everyone else. That makes the pain go away, but you’re the only damn thing that makes it go away without me having to hurt you, when I’m with you I finally get a break, it ends- I thought that pain, that godforsaken pain was going to be forever, but no. I have you now. You’re gonna make me better, I swear to God you are.”

#natewantstobattle #nwtb #nathan sharp #natewantstobtl #natewantstobattle egos #nwtb egos #bones #bones natewantstobattle #bones nwtb #nwtb bones #natewantstobattle bones #my writing

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 7 months

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Day 8: Sensory Deprivation

(Disclaimer: neither of the characters in this story belong to me. Both Phantom and Bones are the property of Nathan Sharp/Give Heart Productions.)

(Trigger Warnings: implications of illegal business, implied chronic pain, mentions of death/dying, descriptions of water/floating, skin-flaying, exposed bones, blood, similarities to an out-of-body experience, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13

Out of habit, Bones cracked his knuckles as he wandered down the hall.

He had no idea why he’d developed aforementioned habit; it wasn’t exactly uncommon for his joints to crack with enough volume that you’d expect them to start glowing in the dark. Then again, he’d had more than enough time to learn how to tune out those noises. Even when he found himself in areas that managed to be eerily quiet.

Like this one, for instance.

A decent amount of time had passed since coworkers and customers alike had vacated the club. All the lights had been turned off. Now, had Bones still been fully alive, that would’ve caused problems (mainly him getting an excuse to fuck up someone else’s night due to tripping over the decor a few too many times). However, Bones was not fully alive. Death was strange—yes, it took a lot of things away, but for whatever reason, it also ended up having a few things to give.

Not like that made it any better, mind you.

Having supernaturally heightened senses didn’t make up for having fragmented memories, for having to operate under a nasty mixture of exhaustion and restlessness, for having to know that you’re part of the proof that something is fundamentally wrong with the world—

“Boooones,” a familiar voice called from elsewhere in the building. “While I always appreciate lurking for dramatic effect, I don’t have all night.”

“. . .Yeah, because you’ve never taken your sweet damn time on things,” Bones snapped back, knowing that his terse tone wouldn’t hide how he’d flinched.

“Touch’e, but that’s only when I know I can get away with it,” Phantom replied, sounding much closer than he actually was. “C’mon, you’re gonna want to see this.”

Bones rolled his eyes, but still turned on his heel and started traipsing in the direction of the sound. “Sure I am.”

Despite there still being a few good employers out there, any relationship between worker and boss would always be just a tad strange. Especially if the boss in question was an outer monstrosity in disguise.

While Bones didn’t exactly fear Phantom—as a revenant, Bones was typically one to be feared—he still knew better than to just let his guard down around him. He wasn’t about to try calling himself a saint, but seeing some of the things Phantom had done to “take care of business” made him a bit relieved that he couldn’t sleep anymore. Other times, Phantom’s eccentricities just got on his nerves.

Bones knew things could’ve been much, much worse. Yeah, it was a complete and total bitch to have hollow pain thriving inside him like a colony of parasites, but part of him still understood that he was making the best of his circumstances.

Eventually, Bones found himself behind the bar counter, facing the huge cabinet that had been built into the entire fourth wall of this room. He paused, having to dig through the duffel bag of stuff he’d been instructed to bring tonight. It only took a few muttered profanities to convince said bag to let him fish out a silver key: its bow was adorned by a picture of a flower with an eyeball in the center of its petals.

Bones ran his fingers along the bottom of the center shelf, quickly finding a well-hidden hole that the key’s biting cuts fit perfectly into. A loud CLACK rang through the empty room as he turned the key to one side, prompting the cabinet to perform an amateur recreation of The Red Sea. The organized collection of bottles rattled on their shelves, but not a single one went shattering to the floor.

Bones hovered in the familiar, freshly-revealed hollow doorway. It wasn’t imposing to him; he’d done this at least a hundred times by now. This hidden staircase was just so fucking steep. He knew for an absolute certainty that it would be impossible to run up or down it without tripping on one step and bashing your head against another.

Dull pain flared around his ankles and raced up to his kneecaps. Bones ground his jaw, putting a deathgrip on the railway as he began descending. The halves of the cabinet reconnected behind him, but that didn’t leave him in total darkness. Colorful light flickered at the bottom of the stairs, casting shadows that danced similarly to those of a fire. They seemed to be trying to reach up along the steps. . .

Though he didn’t stop walking, Bones felt his hackles raise. They didn’t lower when he realized that soft music was slithering into the air.

The club’s basement was in a state of functional chaos. Chests and crates that came in a plethora of sizes almost outlined the room, stacked on top of one another and pushed up against the walls. It always felt like there was a different amount each time Bones had to venture down here. (It also wasn’t one of Bones’ responsibilities to keep track of them all. He’d already learned the hard way that you couldn’t just open them.)

He immediately discovered Phantom in the center of the room, his trademark claw-handled cane softly thudding against the floor as he paced around. . .something.

The unfamiliar object seemed to be eight feet long and four feet wide. It was coated in a silver finish, shaped similarly to a snake’s egg. The top half of it hung in the air, supported by simple hinges on either side. It glowed from the inside with that same color-shifting light. It was the source of the music, too. Bones’ instincts told him that those gentle notes were being produced by whatever was in there. Like a monster’s voice echoing from the bottom of a well.

“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Bones called, feeling his brow furrow as he loomed by the foot of the stairs.

Phantom came to a halt on one side of the glowing object, turning his head to offer a cryptic smile. “I sent a message about having something in store for you earlier this week, didn’t I?”

“The novel-text you sent me was just rambling about how I needed to keep your clients in line because you’d be busy rearranging the reality in this part of the building,” Bones replied pointedly.

Phantom clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “This is a sensory deprivation tank. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about them by now.”

“I have,” Bones argued, “but unless you’ve cooked up some weird plan to turn this place into a spa, I’m not sure why we suddenly need one.”

Phantom beckoned Bones to come closer. “I mean, what we calculated as your deathday is coming up.” His grin slightly widened to showcase how his teeth were slowly but surely becoming sharper. “And I’d be a real jackass if I didn’t get you a present, right?”

Bones scoffed as he wandered over, hoping his aggravation would mask his reluctance. He made sure to keep some distance from Phantom, standing by the opposite side of the tank. “Not like that would stop you from being a jackass every other day.”

“Meh, fair point,” Phantom confessed. “But don’t worry, I won’t say I told you so after you see how great this thing is.” He reached up to pat the tank’s lid as though it was the hood of some snazzy car. This helped Bones finally realize that the tank’s exterior wasn’t smooth. Rather, it was covered in symbols that looked like animalistic mouths and eyes. He couldn’t tell whether they’d been carved into or sculpted onto the original material.

Before he could stop himself, Bones peered at the tank’s interior.

His stomach immediately sank.

The color wasn’t beaming from a light further inside. No, the tank’s liquid itself glimmered. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve assumed that a bunch of bathbombs had just dissolved in there (and that the combination of all their colors miraculously wasn’t reduced to some ugly shade of brown).

The liquid also looked fresh, clean. And while that wouldn’t be something to complain about. . .it meant that Bones could see the bottom of the tank. The longer he stared, the more the tank just seemed to keep going down, down, down into a gaping black pit. Even with how far away it appeared, it still looked so much larger than the tank itself.

“Pretty sure these things are only supposed to hold ten inches of water,” he muttered, unable to take his eyes away from the hole.

“First of all, the stuff in there isn’t water,” Phantom casually mentioned. “Second of all, that capacity is only the standard for the tanks that humans use.”

Bones’ neck gave a sickening cRiIiCk as he turned his head to stare at Phantom. “. . .If that stuff isn’t water, then what the fuck is it?”

Phantom shrugged. “Not important.”

“I’m inCLINED TO DISAGREE.”

“There’s no hydrochloric acid in the elixir,” Phantom tried. At the way Bones snarled, he continued, “And even if there was, you know it wouldn’t kill you.”

“That doesn’t mean it couldn’t hurt me in a way that might make my limbo even worse!”

“I never said anything about hurting.” Phantom sighed. “Look, as much as I’d love to infodump, I literally can’t tell you how I managed to whip it up. It’s just one of those types of knowledge that only certain species can process.”

“Oh, so you think calling me an idiot in a roundabout way is just gonna reassure me?!”

“Hey.” Phantom growled, a newly-forked tongue flicking out of his mouth. His voice seemed to grow, as the air now shook when he spoke. “It’s not my fault that so much shit doesn’t make sense. I didn’t write the rules for these kinds of things. I could’ve used the past few days and nights to get plenty of other shit done, but instead, I focused on building this because I wanted to try and help you out.” He took a single step forward, thin columns of smoke beginning to drift out of his eyes. “So don’t put any fucking words in my mouth, alright?”

Bones’ mouth opened and closed with nothing coming out. While the eye-vapor didn’t actually float near him, the smell still had quite a bite to it. Not to mention how it made his throat feel like sandpaper. He subconsciously straightened his back, though he was still stubborn enough to keep grimacing. He dipped his head for just a second or two to get the point across: Fine, I get it, you can stop emitting surreal dread now.

Phantom responded with a short, low hum. The smoke stopped pouring as he blinked. “Anyway,” he pronounced. “There’s a reason sensory deprivation therapy is such a hot topic. Several reasons, in fact: at first, it was thought to just help with psychological problems. Now, it’s been proven to have plenty of physical benefits, too.”

“Thanks for the reminder that I have a lot of problems in general,” Bones snorted. “But like you just said: that stuff applies to tanks made for humans. So what does that mean for this tank?”

“It means,” Phantom replied, exasperation seeping into his mischievous calm, “that this tank will work even better than the ones made for humans. Because I’ve designed it to give its user an experience that human bodies can’t handle.”

“It’s kinda impossible to list all the things humans can’t handle.” Bones glanced back down into the tank. The dark cavity at the bottom seemed to be stirring the liquid all around it. The odd, subtle movement almost resembled breathing.

And yet. . .a voice in his rotten mind started begging him to touch the elixir, to dive into the tank headfirst. Another voice popped up, snidely quoting, This is my hole! It was made for me! (It made more sense than the vibes the tank was giving off, since manga was one of the few things that actually didn’t frustrate Bones these days.)

“What makes this experience so special?” Bones inquired before any vague euphemisms could barge their way into the strange compulsion.

“That’s something you’ll have to find out yourself,” Phantom answered. “I’ve already given it a test run, but I’m pretty sure it can’t have the exact same effect on whoever else uses it.”

“Wow. That’s not concerning at all. This sounds so damn promising,” Bones deadpanned.

“Oh, c’mon! It’s functioning safely!” Phantom contended, slightly throwing up his arms. “Think, Bones: you’re my right-hand. Why would I want to hurt one of the most capable people on my payroll?”

“Why are you obsessed with harvesting the souls of your contractors?” Bones retorted. “You pretty much never have a reason to do something, but that doesn’t exactly stop you.”

“You’re just complimenting my work ethic, y’know,” Phantom smirked.

Bones huffed an agitated sigh, feeling the bags under his eyes actively grow wider and darker. A splintery sensation stabbed into his brain (a tiny part of his skull had probably tried to cave in).

Phantom tilted his head, taking a few steps closer. “Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Don’t you remember the voodoo dolls we started selling last year?”

“How could I forget?” Bones murmured, holding back a shudder at the images of Phantom’s body contorting in time with that first test doll.

“Well, those have proven to be pretty good painkillers for you, right?”

“. . .Right,” Bones relented.

Phantom nodded. “That’s what this tank is meant to be. Another type of painkiller for you.” By now, his demeanor had returned to its usual levels of smug and shit-eating. But Bones was quick to spot something else in Phantom’s eyes. He didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t seem malevolent. “I’ve adjusted the tank’s settings; your session will only be fifteen minutes long. Plenty of time for you to see how you like it without feeling trapped. Just try it out, okay?”

Bones felt his lip start to bleed before he’d even began chewing it. He paced around the tank, inspecting every part of it that was in eyeshot. There was no lock on the top half, no hidden compartments anywhere. The only parts of it that didn’t look normal were its depth and that chasm. . .

Then again, Phantom was a chaos deity. Bones was the living dead. Normal wasn’t really an option for anything that involved either of them.

“Fine,” Bones eventually proclaimed. “But if this does end up doing something I don’t like—”

“There’s only so much you can do to me, and even that won’t stick,” Phantom interjected, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

As he spun his cane in his hands, his skin started burning from the inside. . .Well, it quickly ended up burning on the outside, too, since flames erupted from his eyes and mouth. The fire enveloped Phantom, then spent the next few seconds coiling around in the air. At least twenty eyes stared at Bones. Bones stared right back, folding his arms across his chest. Leave it to Phantom to go apeshit with dramatic exits.

The monstrous display surged up through the ceiling, leaving an assortment of blisters to spread along the paint. Even after it completely vanished, that still didn’t stop Phantom from calling, “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

And with that, Bones was suddenly alone in the club’s basement. His ears rang as he paced a few more laps around the tank, still searching for any threats. Or, his ears tried to ring, at least. That soft music crawled through the tank’s liquid and up into the air. He still had no idea what could be producing it, but he couldn’t deny how...grounding it felt.

Having cameras down here would’ve just been a complete idiot-move on Phantom’s part. Still, Bones retreated to the darkest corner of the basement, dragging his duffel bag along. A couple minutes passed before he trudged back over, letting the tank’s glow stretch over him and the bleach-dye trunks he was now wearing.

Bones stood before the tank, pursing his lips, giving it one more tense stare. When the tank failed to reveal itself to be a mimic or spontaneously combust, he carefully lowered himself to sit on the lower rim. He instinctively grit his teeth, bracing himself as his feet dropped into the elixir with a soft splash.

He didn’t touch the bottom of the tank, obviously. The elixir seemed to softly churn around his legs. It felt. . .just like water. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot, either. Bones gave a few experimental kicks. Ripples were sent shivering throughout the tank, but that was pretty much it. It didn’t start boiling. No swarms of piranhas manifested.

After a few more seconds, Bones finally barked a resounding, “Fuck it.” He reached up to grab hold of the tank’s top half, pulling it closed over him as he pushed himself off the rim.

Due to no longer needing air in his lungs, Bones didn’t automatically float like a human would. Despite all the things he’d forgotten about his former life, the basic necessity of swimming clung to his mind like a stubborn leech. He stared down at the chasm so far beneath him. The chasm stared right back, not really contributing unless you counted whatever creature could potentially be lurking in its darkness.

The music got a bit louder, now that it was more contained, but it somehow didn’t bounce along the tank’s ceiling.

Curiosity wormed its way into Bones’ paranoia. He swam a few laps around the tank’s perimeter, still testing, still waiting. The thought of circling like a shark made him feel a bit more secure, a bit more in control.

Even so, he eventually got bored of it.

If he wanted to see what this tank could actually do for him, then he’d have to stay relatively still.

So, Bones paddled into the center of the elixir.

He maneuvered himself onto his back, letting his arms unfurl and reach toward nothing.

He let his head roll back. And as he felt the elixir filter into his hair and creep around the corners of his face. . .he realized how the music felt solid. Tangible.

As though it and the elixir’s ever-changing color were part of a living mass.

Bones swallowed a lump in his throat. He’d sink if he stayed like this, but he wouldn’t drown. He could always just swim back up to the surface.

His dry, sore eyes drifted shut as the elixir washed over his skin. He just barely felt the cool air disappear.

But his vision didn’t turn black. He could still see the colors of the elixir.

As a matter of fact, he saw a blurry shape somewhere in the tank.

Bones immediately wanted to panic, to start thrashing his way up to the surface. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. All he could do was listen to the music and watch the shape as it got closer and clearer. . .

Bones’ mind didn’t turn blank when he realized that the shape was himself, that he was somehow looking down on his own body as it kept capsizing. At first, his anger and fear threatened to make his head explode (mainly to spite Phantom, since having to clean bits of brain and skull out of the tank would not be very fun). It felt like at least an hour had passed before confusion finally attempted to take center-stage. Though he saw his eyes refuse to open, he also saw himself grind his jaw, saw himself carefully wave his arms.

Bones was still in control. He was just. . .having to watch.

He expected his spine to take the drifting as an excuse to contort. He expected his lungs to shake with a chorus of awful snaps and pops. He expected his abdomen to start bloating like that of an actual drowning victim.

Nothing like that happened.

The music wasn’t letting any of those things happen.

The music didn’t give him a chance to start questioning what this meant.

The

Music

Was

The

Only

Thing

Could

Feel

There was no pain or panic as the music actively crept into Bones’ head. It was lapping at his skull, oozing down his spine, spreading along his ribcage.

The numbness was, miraculously enough, a good kind of numbness.

Bones wanted to swim, to move along in time with the music’s notes. But the music told him that he needed to stay still right now, that things would be easier if he did. So, he obeyed.

The elixir must have wanted to obey the music, too. Because, right as Bones’ body got within five feet of the chasm. . .he stopped sinking.

The thought of opening his eyes barely even occurred to him. He could still see himself. And even if he couldn’t, he was still listening to the music. As long as the music kept playing, nothing bad would happen. He was sure of that.

The elixir began to churn, but Bones remained perfectly still.

Thin lacerations began opening up on his skin. They started at his fingers, then proceeded to grow longer and longer. They stretched over his hands, up his arms, around his neck, over his face and chest. (This wasn’t really anything new, but for the very first time, there was no stinging sensation for Bones to wince or hiss at.)

The spreading cuts grew deeper and deeper, prompting Bones’ blood to begin seeping out and leaving misty trails in the elixir. It almost looked black against all the colors. It didn’t drift up to the surface. Instead, the blood glided around Bones like a school of tiny fish.

Once the gashes managed to carve themselves over every square-inch of his body, now resembling a network of tree roots, Bones’ skin began to twitch. Almost like a hangnail, a corner of skin lifted away from the tip of Bones’ index finger. That particular strand became longer and wider as it continued peeling itself off in a spiral. This set off a chain reaction: more and more sections of flesh shivered as they detached. Blood was now spilling out in clouds that nearly hid the entire scene.

But Bones could still see everything.

Threads of skin started slithering off of his face. Even as his eyes were forced open due to their lids peeling away, his perspective didn’t change.

The music was still keeping him company, so he didn’t start thrashing or screaming.

It took a little over five minutes for his skeleton and organs to be rendered bare. His blood continued circling around him in a lazy whirlpool, but his skin apparently had other ideas. One by one, the fleshy strands moved downward, wavering like eels as they vanished into the darkness of the chasm.

Bones almost felt like he was asleep.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept.

Had his heart just twitched? Were his intestines shuffling?

He couldn’t be sure, because as he kept staring, the gore slowly grew blurrier, fading in and out of eyeshot. . .

Far too quickly, the music came to a halt. The new silence only lasted for a second or two. Then, a low, buzzing alarm droned into Bones’ ears.

A loud gasp tore its way from Bones’ throat as he sat up, kicking his legs and thrashing his arms. He blinked, watching as the tank’s lid drifted open above him with a soft, electronic hummmm.

Air collided against his skin, feeling cool considering how he was soaked in the elixir.

Bones froze, immediately reaching up to touch his face and neck, craning his neck to look at his torso. All of his skin had returned to its rightful place. One top of that. . .he couldn’t see any bruises or scabs or leaking cuts.

The pleasant numbness was gone. He scowled; a headache was just starting to blossom beneath the bridge of his nose.

But it wasn’t on-par with a migraine.

In fact, it was nearly overshadowed by how. . .clean Bones was now realizing he felt.

He didn’t feel healthy (he was dead, after all), but the feeling of a hot shower and a deep-tissue massage combined. . .it was enveloping him.

Inside and out.

Bones’ expression shifted so quickly he almost got whiplash.

He stayed floating for another moment.

Then, he clambered onto the tank’s rim, heading for the basement stairs, not caring one bit how he was dripping and leaving wet footprints everywhere.

He needed Phantom to show him how to adjust the tank’s settings.

He needed to spend some more time in there. He needed to have another session—he needed to have at least one hour-long session per day. . .

@that-bat @sammys-magical-au @ineedallofthehugs @th3w00ds @captainrose35 @nwtbobsessedemo

#the thirteen days of goretober 2023 #goretober 2023 #my writing #my stories #bones nwtb #phantom nwtb #nathan sharp #natewantstobattle #tw blood #tw exposed bones #tw body horror #tw implied chronic pain #tw implied illegal business #tw mentions of death/dying #tw water/floating #tw skin flaying #tw out of body experience #(kind of?)

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