Standing in a long wide corridor of a dorm, was a tall skeleton; he held onto a door frame with one hand- he stares through the open door in disbelief, everywhere he looked in the darkened room, was packed full of stuff. Just stuff.
Wingdings had not seen nor heard from his neighbor Comic Sans for three weeks; while they both lead busy lives, it seemed clear that something happened to his fellow skeleton monster.
The scientist in training came to his room with the spare key Sans had given him a month ago. Back then he seemed to twitch, not able to stand still and kept looking over his shoulder. Wingdings had put it down to the overwork by the exhausted expression, he had worn.
Oh how he wished he had paid attention, perhaps he would be here.
Looking into the at the room, he appeared not to have been lived in for a while. Comic Sans was gone.
Wingdings sighs at the piles of junk Sans had collected- some piles had even reached the ceiling.
"Would Sans really leave all this behind?" Wingdings questions out loud, remembering how Sans felt about monsters entering his space; no one was allowed in, and when a rare visitor did, they were not to touch anything.
Suddenly a horrible thought crosses his mind, 'what if he dusted?'
Shaking his skull, Wingdings dares to go forward, having to throw his arms out to keep his balance as he steps over the stuff.
"I have a lot of work to do here..." Wingdings tells himself, wanting to hear his own voice in the strange silence that seemed to warp in the room- he gazes at where the walls should be beneath the shelves he could see pass the piles of things.
"Was this always this small?" Wingdings questions in confusion, he had helped Comic Sans moved in, he lived across the hall; the rooms in this place were as big as a house, however because of the layout of the old building, the front bedrooms were much bigger than the back ones where Comic Sans was.
Wingdings went on with his work, the landlord of the dorm had come to him since he and Comic Sans were so close, and asked to sort out the stuff because he had stopped paying his rent.
Wingdings had paid off the owning rent as well as for the next two months because he knew he would need the time to get this sorted out.
It would be a lie if he said he was not worried and scared, it was eating it inside since he realized something was amiss.
It took over an hour alone just to move things closest to the door- he placed them along the walls and left his door open just was right opposite to place stuff there too.
As he bends down he notices a flickering light coming from a rather large box; thinking he found the windows, he straightens and then journeys of the sea of items. On reaching the light he gets down on one knee and forcefully pushes the oddly light box.
His jaw parts slightly- he had found a narrow path within the items that made up a false wall; this was thick, it went about three meters of junk.
Making his choice, he goes into his hands and knees and crawls through- he held his breath tightly in fear it would cave in on him. He must have crawled for a matter of minutes but it felt much longer.
Getting to the other side, he quickly gets to his feet and blinks shock as he immediately catches sight of Comic Sans.
In the centre of a ring, many different objects Comic Sans sat cross-legged- his blank orbits stared unblinkingly at a computer's screen. What was creepy, the skeleton was motionless, apart from his hands, which was moving across a keyboard in a blur, as well as one left kept darting to the mouse.
It was the fastest he has seen Comic Sans move.
Wingdings began moving carefully towards him, his sockets never leaving Comic Sans's form. On reaching his friend, he lowers himself to sit behind him; then he glances to the screen to see what had caught his attention so much, that he made him be missing for so long.
A slight frown appears on his brow, he would see only numbers- or rather just lines and lines of ones and zeros, that continually moves downwards; he could not focus on one opened window since Comic Sans kept opening new windows- typing and clicking at the same pace before returning to others ones.
Wingdings sat there for a moment, simply watching.
While he was delighted that his friend was alive and ...well? he was still very worried about this behaviour.
"Comic?" Wingdings asks softly not wanting to startle him since his friend gave no notice of him even being there.
Comic Sans pauses.
"*call me Sans from now on 'dings." Comic Sans says, at last, his magical voice sounding static from lack of use; he began typing once more.
"Huh? Why?" Wingdings questions while frowning deeply; he waits for some time before Comic Sans answers.
"*its in the code." Comic Sans utters at last stopping completely, turning to face his friend.
Wingdings let out a scream at the sight- he threw himself back and away from the creature the other skeleton was melting into; Comic Sans's skull slowly caves in on itself, a bubbling hand reaches out his way.
" E" A voice echoes throughout the room, seemingly piercing his soul.
Wingdings gasps as he sat up, he held his bed covers tight- quickly he stares around at the darken door... searching for any shadowy creatures wearing his mate's bones.
He was in his own bedroom, sweating badly. He rattles slightly at the memory of the dream.
Someone stirs from the bed beside him.
"*whats wrong 'dings?" A clear welcoming voice asks, turning he see Comic Sans's eyelights gazing at him in question.
"It is nothing..just .a bad dream," Wingdings said after a moment to calm his racing magic: then he adds, "Comic..."
"*mmm?" Comic Sans hums, flopping back down.
"...wait! You are back?" Wingdings says when he notices this important fact, turning his torso to look next to him, "When did you return?"
"*got back this evening," Comic Sans answers laying face down on the pillows, with his eye sockets firmly shut, "*it was already too late to wake," Wingdings felt a shiver run down at those words, " and let you know i was back. and besides. you were conked out on the bed."
"You are not going to tell me where have been this whole time, Comic." Wingdings states with a heavy sigh, he settles back down and cuddles up next to his mate.
"*nope" Comic Sans replies grinning. Another sigh was heard, the pair of skeleton fall asleep together, or rather one does. The smaller of the two opens his eye sockets, black pools stare before a series of red ones and zeros scroll down in the dark pits.