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moonfurthetemmie · 2 years

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Potential Meeting of the DS Verses

anyways hi i have writing

Heed the warnings please! Tell me if I need to tag for anything else

This is just like ‘hm what’s a horrible way for DS and H!DS to meet’

Dream looked up in surprise when a security alert popped up on his computer and started beeping loudly. That alert was only for when the Meme Squad had been found inside the castle. It wasn't a holiday, so they hadn't come to make mischief, and none of them had been captured recently.

Now that he had been pulled out of his concentration, however, he could feel a familiar negative aura. He sighed. Nightmare and his friends must've been awfully bored today.

As this man doesn't have a sleep schedule, he didn't realize right away that it was about 5 P.M. He'd be forgiven for not knowing that this is around when the Meme Squad has dinner, but they're almost never seen out and about around this time, and never once in the castle. Even so...

A strange chill went down his spine as he left his office. Something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the feeling gnawed at him from the inside.

He passed guards in the halls who were on high alert. Dream's office was, for the most part, sound proofed so he could focus, but now he could hear the alarms blaring throughout the building. They all nodded to him as he passed, confirming that the area was all clear. It did little to comfort him.

He sensed Nightmare a few floors below him, and made his way to the elevator. As he descended, that feeling grew stronger. He tightened his grip on the sword's scabbard, trying to figure out what was wrong-

He realized what it was, just as the elevator doors opened.

He could only sense three people on the entire floor.

A guard's body feel backwards into the elevator, their expression frozen in horror and confusion. Dream almost gagged at the stench of blood as he stepped out of the elevator. It was completely silent, except for the alarm.

He was no stranger to it. He'd been the head of this organization for decades, and in the beginning had to do most of the work himself. But this was different. This was his home, with people he knew and cared about.

And they'd all been massacred.

Dream's hands began to shake. This wasn't right. Nightmare might've been a criminal, often a thief and frequently a vandal, but he wasn't a murderer. Nor was Error, or Cross.

The few deaths they did have on their hands were self-defense, a result of lashing out in fear. This...

Dream looked around at the corpses. Throats slashed, heads cut off, stomachs sliced open. A handful had been hung, wherever there was something to loop strings around. There were crumbled piles of clothes in dusty piles here and there.

Some of the humans who'd been hung were still twitching and gurgling as they bleed out from the cut on their throat, their faces pink as the blood rushed to their heads. They weakly reached out to Dream, trying to lift their heads to see him properly as they'd been hung by their feet.

This was anything but self-defense.

With practiced ease, Dream smothered his fear. He'd seen scenes like this before. It wasn't pretty, of course, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

His hands didn't stop shaking, but instead of fear, now, it was anger. These were his people. And whoever did this--Not the Meme Squad, he was sure--had slaughtered them. They would not escape justice.

Fortunately, or perhaps not, he could tell that the murderers were fairly close. He paid close attention to their emotions as he made is way towards them, stepping over the remains of his employees (and, and Dream now saw, a few people who'd been in their care. Some victims and criminals who were being rehabilitated. All of them, indiscriminately cut down.)

As Dream got closer, he realized that there was, in fact, someone else on the floor, besides him and the three perpetrators. Their emotions were very weak, but now Dream could sense the terror and desperation. The murderers seemed to be standing around them. Dream could sense their amusement.

His knuckles turned white on the hilt of his sword. He didn't remember drawing it, but having the protection of a weapon was a welcome, if small comfort.

This floor had been full of guards. How had they all been cut down so easily?

For a moment, Dream's mind drifted toward another 'visitor' with a negative aura- Obsidian. That man had all the physical strength of a fully grown lion, and a cruelty and wickedness Dream had never seen before. But this aura was much, much weaker than Obsidian's, and Dream had all sorts of alarms in place to warn him as soon as Obsidian showed his face again, and even he couldn't cause this much devastation in the short time it had been since the alarm went off. If Jet had been with him, it would've been possible, but there was only one negative aura.

Besides...this wasn't Obsidian's style. It wasn't brutal enough. Not enough skulls broken against the wall, or shattered bones. All the wounds were made with a blade, or magic strings.

The strings looked disturbingly like the ones Error employed, but she didn't kill the guards if she could help it, even when she was breaking out her friends.

Dream's mind raced, running through all the possibilities as he approached a door at the end of the hall. The people Obsidian had working for him, some criminals that had recently broken out, a group of interest that had made is displeasure with JR well known. But none of them matched up with the evidence. The only one Dream knew with a negative aura like that was Nightmare, and those strings were very distinctive.

But...Surely, it couldn't be the Meme Squad. Surely.

He could hear voices from the room now. They weren't bothering to keep their voices down.

"...on, hold still. It's just going to hurt more if you struggle."

"It's not like you're going to survive this, anyway. Just let us make it funny."

A much, much weaker voice. Dream realized with horror that it was Finch.

He couldn't make out what Finch was saying, but it didn't matter.

"We- Oh. Wait. He's-"

Dream kicked open the door, interrupting the one who was speaking.

"...Here." The man sighed. "You sure took your damn time, didn't you?"

Dream stared at him. He looked chillingly like Nightmare. But Nightmare didn't have bloodstained boots, or a scar over his eye, or eyes like a predator sizing up his prey.

One of his friends, the one with the strings, who similarly looked far too much like Error for comfort, was using her strings to pull several different bodies into poses, including Finch. She looked Dream up and down, and snorted. "You look like shit."

Finch looked up at Dream weakly. His eyes were hazy. He was bleeding from a wound in his chest, opposite his heart, and his leg was bent at an odd angle, but if Dream could get him out of there quickly he might make it.

Dream was glad he'd called the guards and had been optimistic enough to tell them to bring a healer.

He pointed his sword at the other Error. Seeing his captain so badly wounded fueled his anger, and he had to keep himself from lunging at her.

"Release them."

She scoffed. "What, even the corpses? They won't care." She tugged on the strings, pulling on Finch's bad leg and making him hiss in pain. "Finch Number Two's not going to make it, anyways. Night's spear went right through 'em. I'm surprised he hasn't bled out yet already."

Dream narrowed his eyes. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and moved just in time to block the other Cross's sword.

The force of the impact made his foot slide back, and he grunted. She was much, much stronger than the Cross he knew. She grinned at him, taunting him. The edge of her sword was nicked and uneven, but still very, very sharp. Dream pushed, and unbalanced her enough to step back and swing. She ducked with ease and immediately went for his neck.

Dream barely managed to move out of the way.

"Hey, don't kill him," the other Nightmare called, thought he didn't sound very concerned. "I still want to meet the other me."

'Cross' huffed, and planted the tip of her sword in the ground. "You suck. Fine." She turned her gaze back to Dream, with the same look the other Nightmare had when Dream first entered the room.

Dream glanced at the three of them again. He could sense the guards coming down the elevator, but he didn't know if they'd be here in time.

They didn't seem super interested in hurting him, at the moment. Just curious. But he wasn't sure how long that would last, and he needed 'Error' to stop aggravating Finch's wounds until help could arrive.

"How did you three manage to decimate everyone on this floor in the time it took for me to get down here?" He demanded.

'Nightmare' shrugged, like it was no big deal. "Well, we'd already killed a bunch of the guards and stuff before the alarm went off. We didn't want to deal with too many armed people, y'know? That'd just make it harder." He summoned his spear and twirled it around as he continued. "Pulled one into a closet here, stabbed one and tossed her out the window there. It's pretty easy to thin your numbers and stay hidden. Either your security sucks or you really never thought a few serial killers to sneak in."

"Ehhhh..." 'Error' tied off a few of her strings. One of the corpses was now posed behind a chair, pointing across the table with their mouth open.

"...Yeah, okay, we didn't sneak in," 'Nightmare' said. "We just kinda accidentally dropped in. Scared us as much as we scared him," he said, nodding to Finch. Finch barely reacted. He looked like he was about to pass out.

The guards were close. And the other Nightmare looked towards the door, and frowned. He could sense them too. "Shit, we gotta go guys. He called the guards."

'Cross' groaned. "Fucking killjoy." She dismissed her sword, as the other Error dropped all her strings. She opened a portal, and before Dream could stop them they were gone.

Dream rushed to Finch's side instead, silently cursing as he saw just how much blood he'd lost. He might not make it, after all.

The guards entered with a small squad of healers, who immediately got between Dream and Finch and set to work on keeping Finch stable until they could get him to the medical wing.

One of the guards looked around the room. Her eyes landed on the strings, and the people who were tied up in them. She frowned. "...Isn't that that meme of the two women yelling at that cat?" She focused on the strings. "Those look like Error's strings. What the on earth-."

Dream sheathed his sword, and took a shaky breathe. "I believe," he said darkly, "We have another, much worse Meme Squad to look out for."

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