For the past two years, the only dreams George has had the pleasure of having were horrible, horrible nightmares.
These nightmares always had five things in common.
In every one, each and every person he cared about died in an excruciatingly painful...
Chapter Tw, Mentions Of Blood, Dehumanizing Treatment
Hell could probably be an accurate description of what Dream had been through.
These people he was with... No matter how many times he yells his name at them, they just refer to him as 'thirteen'. It made him feel like an animal, not to mention the fact that he was, quite literally, caged.
The shackles they kept him in must be some sort of strong metal; No matter how much he thrashes in his bonds, they don't budge. The only thing that changes are his wrists, now bruised and sore.
They had him in a forced standing position, his arms hung above his head by his wrists and his feet distanced apart, like an X. There were small platforms for him to stand on so he wasn't just hanging there, but it didn't make it feel any less dehumanizing.
The shackles weren't very forgiving; they were tight on his skin. He had no range to move, other than his head. That is, on the rare times they don't strap him down by his forehead.
He couldn't describe how hungry he was with words. His entire body felt like it was tearing itself apart from the inside. The only thing they offered him was human food, and it didn't help him in the slightest; It just made him long for George even more than he already did.
Every day he hoped that someone somewhere in this building would fall asleep on the job, or be afraid for whatever reason. However, the only fear he got was when he got a little too close to one of the "scientists" hands as they drew yet another blood sample.
Sometimes he would hear things through the haze of animalistic hunger. He heard snippets of conversation, and it took an effort to process even that.
They talked about an "infection". They must have thought that he was human. Of course, human scientists are usually very accustomed to coming up with things to explain the unexplainable. Demons weren't an option to "people of science".
His arms ached from how many times they've been pricked with those needles.
Occasionally, they would do worse things. Worse than stabbing him in the arm or strapping him down.
Sometimes, they would... Inject him with things. Sometimes it would just lead to him passing out, others it would make him feel like his blood was molten lava, burning him from the inside.
But, the worst thing that happened?
They injected him with another demon's blood.
Dream knew the second he smelled the scientist that had walked in on that day. He could smell the demon on them; He could smell their distress, their fear. It smelled familiar, in an odd way.
But when he saw that needle, he fought harder than he had before.
He remembered the shocked confusion on their face and everyone else's as he snarled and thrashed in his bindings. He remembered the look of stone as they strapped his head down, and the scream of alarm as he broke out of it.
George must have been far away on that day.
No matter how hard he thrashed, he couldn't stop them from injecting the liquid sickness into his upper thigh.
The screaming that filled the lab for multiple hours was horrible. He couldn't stop it from ripping out of his throat. The feeling was indescribable in the most horrid, venomous way.
His voice was long gone by the time they were done with him.
They did tests on his blood. He knew this from all the equipment in the room, and how often they drew it from him like he was a human- no, demon blood bag.
Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't the same species as these people. For some reason, instead of reassuring him, this thought made him want to cry.
Sadness was something that constantly hung over him, like smog in the air. Sometimes it was so thick that he had to fight through it, but even then, he never let himself choke. He never let himself cry.
He was a demon, and he wouldn't give these people the satisfaction of knowing how much they were tearing him down.
The suffering felt endless. Every half an hour, more blood was drawn. It was a miracle he hadn't been bled dry. He had lost consciousness a few times, his vision blackening around the edges until he was out, and then he snapped awake again, completely unaware of how much time had or hadn't passed.
One time, they injected something into him, and when he woke up, there were stitches on his chest, like an autopsy scar. The Y on his chest and stomach made him want to throw up whatever food they had given him.
They had tried to kill him.
That day they learned that demons don't die.
Every day he prayed for George. Every day it got harder to reassure himself that the boy was coming for him. Every day the fight got harder to win.
But he would hold on.
He would stay alive.
If not for himself, then for George.
An
More absolutely beautiful fanart !! This is from DustyUwU; pixilljester on Instagram !!!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I absolutely adore the way they use watercolor, and the elven type ears they gave him! Very cute, very good.
Second up is by SnappleApplle, also known as snapplebutnoton Instagram and Snapple on YouTube!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I love how scratchy their style is, and the way they made his eyes glow! Beautiful 💕💞
Anyways, that's all for now. See you all tomorrow!
