This seemed like a good idea at the time. . .

The muscles in my right arm are screaming in pain. I've been hitting away at the wooden lectern in the corner of the cell with my bare hands for days on end now. I haven't eaten anything at all, because I'm afraid if I leave what I'm doing I won't have the strength to continue. The mining fatigue constantly washing over me is making me feel woozy and exhausted but I'm not going to stop.

Do you know what I'm doing?

I have a plan. A plan to escape. It's my only hope.

I'll explain. You know how my prison is built of obsidian? That's a part of it.

All I need a piece of wood. I take it over to the lava, light it on fire. Then maybe I will be able to light the obsidian and create a Portal. It's simple.

It's a long shot - I know that. The odds of Sam not finding out before I manage to complete my task are about 6.969 billion to 1.

But I'm not about to give up yet.

It takes so much effort to lift my hand for another stroke, then another. I did try using a shard of glass to help chip away at the wood, but it shattered in my grasp and cut my hands. The wood is bloodstained and scratched, but I can see I'm so close to breaking off a piece. The lectern creaks with every blow. All I can hear is the thud of my fists and the hissing of the lava, and the ticking of my clock. Bad convinced Sam to give me another one, and this time, it already has a name.

'DO NOT BURN'

A chunk of wood is starting to loosen. Finally, I hear a crack and a piece falls away into my bleeding, trembling hands.

One piece after so much time spent.

This has to work.

It's gotta work

I'm breathing too fast.

Don't panic don't panic

If Sam finds out and my plan fails, I don't know what I'll do. If there was a way for me to take my last life, I probably would.

I shakily attempt to get to my feet, clutching the wood as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

To me, it is.

Slowly, I approach the lava. Sparks fly out and hit my skin, but I can't feel the pain because I'm burning already with hope. I hold out the piece to the molten rock, flinching as it takes mere seconds to ignite. Immediately, I fall to my knees, placing the flaming wood against the corner of obsidian.

I didn't notice the lava draining away behind me. I'm focused on the smoldering brand that is my key to freedom.

All of a sudden, the flame flickers violently and is snuffed out, leaving me with a handful of ashes and no will to live anymore. I feel a cold draft on my back and icy metal is placed against my neck.

"Do not move if you value your life, Dream." a low voice spits angrily.

I turn around heedless of the warning. Sam is standing over me, a netherite axe in one hand and a gleaming splash potion of – I think it's Weakness - in his other. He stares at me, rage emanating from his being. He presses the axe against my chest, forcing me to scramble backwards. "I warned you, Dream, what would happen if you tried to escape." he says, furiously. "I will make sure you will not forget this time." Before I can comprehend what's happening, he hurls the potion at me, and it smashes over my head, its contents splashing onto my face and body.

At once, I feel overwhelmingly dizzy. I try to pull away but I can hardly move, the room is spinning faster and faster. I feel like I'm being crushed. My head feels so heavy and I can't keep my eyes open. Smothering particles swirl in a thick fog around me, forcing me to breath them in.

The last thing I see is Sam mining out a block of obsidian, and replacing it with something that appears to be dripping purple tears onto the floor.

Then everything goes black.

xxxDSMPxxx

Drip

Drip

When I awake, I feel sick. My head is throbbing. I can hear something occasionally splashing lightly on the floor beside me. The surface underneath my hand feels damp and slippery. Something frostily-cold drips onto my arm, immediately sending a painful numbness the area as if I've cut it on ice.

I blink confusedly as I try to take in what is going on. Blocks in the walls have been replaced with Crying Obsidian.

What happened? Why have they changed my cell?

After several minutes, I struggle to my feet - and my gaze falls on the flecks of charcoal scattered throughout the room. The dripping is suddenly unbearably loud.

"No – I didn't – m-make – the portal. . ." I mutter, staring in shock at the remnants of my final hopes. Sam had crushed my plans, destroyed what I'd spent days upon days planning and preparing for. And he crushed them in one moment, without a second thought.

". . .he – left. . .I'm never gonna get out. . .I'm n-never gonna g-get out. . . come b-back please. . ." My head is spinning again. I slam my fist into the wall, feeling the shockwaves jolt through my near-skeletal frame. He can't hear me. I'm all alone again. "C-come b-back, please I'll be g-good!" I smash my hands against the wall, ignoring the stabbing pain as the my knuckles split and blood begins to flow freely – I think I broke my hand. I shout louder. "PLEASE?! SAM!"

No response. I'm completely alone, and there's no hope of escape.

And suddenly, I'm terrified. More terrified than I've ever been in my whole life. I'm descending into panic.

He's gone he's gone nobody will ever come see you again you're trapped in here for eternity because you can't die because they won't let you

I find myself slamming my head into the wall, white lights flash across my vision and I stumble backwards, before smashing my head again and again against the wall.

I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared. . .

"Nonono let m-me GO! I can't stand it I CAN'T STAND IT! I'm s-sorry!"

Figures dance before my eyes, cursed shadowy creatures of my own imagination. They're wailing and screaming at me, shouting all the things I've done wrong, every reason to hate me, each one of my fears.

I have to get out of here - please come back Sam let me go

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

I'm whimpering in fear, frantically wrapping my arms around my ears, trying to block out the sounds of the hideous voices that are the sounds of everything I hate. Cowering, I stagger backwards, crying out for someone - anyone to come and help.

I lose my balance and trip over, landing awkwardly on the damp floor. Without a moment wasted the demonic creatures swarm over me, screaming their taunts and torments into my mind until I'm screaming too.

"COME B-BACK PLEASE! G-GET AWAY FROM ME – I'M SORRY!"

I gasp in a huge breath of air and then the coughing starts. And I can't stop. Violent, racking coughs convulse my body and I curl into a ball on the floor, shoulders heaving, unable to think of anything but the fierce, burning pain that is flaring through my lungs. My throat feels like it's being torn to shreds. I cough until I'm sick - and even after there's nothing left in my stomach to bring up the coughing continues. I'm clawing for breath and gagging as blood and mucus fills my mouth and throat and I feel it splatter, warm and sticky, onto my bruised hands. Crimson liquid spills all over my hoodie but I pay it no attention, slumped against the wall, gasping and choking.

I can't breathe - I can't breathe - I can't breathe

The coughing only stops when I finally pass out from lack of oxygen.

xxxDSMPxxx

The first thing I do when I regain consciousness for the second time that day is try to call for Sam, only to find I can't speak in a voice barely more than a painful, hoarse whisper. My hands are covered in dried blood, my chest rises and falls labouriously with every wheezing breath, and a metallic taste still lingers in my mouth as I drag myself over to the cauldron. Cupping my hands and dipping them into the water, I can see tremours ripple through my beaten body. The water has not been changed in I don't know how long but I don't care. The water splashes into my face as I lift my shaking hands to my mouth and take a small sip.

It tastes so good and offers mild relief to my wrecked throat, although it is agonizing to swallow and my hands are throbbing with pain. I have to force myself not to drink it all – I've been rationing it for weeks now.

After all, after what I did – who knows when I'll get more?

Who knows when and if Sam will come back?

I allow myself to slid down against the wall and sharp hunger pains twist and gnaw at my stomach. Sobs tear themselves unbidden from my mouth while salty tears sting the cuts on my face.

I'm so alone - please come back – anybody. . .? I'm afraid. . .

TBC. . .

Just in case anyone was wondering why I'm so far behind the SMP timeline in narrating Dream's POV, I am doing it deliberately so I can have some time and leeway to 'manipulate' his character if he does anything really unexpected real time. I won't have to dramatically change his personality or anything over one chapter, I can just gradually steer it closer towards the real thing :)

And yes, I couldn't resist the 69 joke - but I was referencing the Manhunt, honest! XD

Sapnap will be visiting Dream any time now, so stay tuned!