Drip.
Crack.
Drip.
Crack.
Pale grey eyes opened, his vision blurry as he slowly came to his senses. He sucked in a slow breath. his ribcage cracking from the sudden change. He stopped, however. A putrid smell filling his senses. He knew exactly what the smell was, and his stomach began to churn.
Karkat's head slowly turned towards his bedroom door, thinking maybe that there was a chance that his aunt had spilled something. Though, in a split second he knew he was wrong. He knew exactly what he would see. And when he finally saw it, he felt a scream stuck in his throat.
Standing there, was Nepeta. Her once beautiful skin was a sickly grey, her chest ripped open with the knife still lodged into her. Blood dripped off the handle, making a sickly drip. With every breath she took, the knife would shift and make a crack noise against her bones. Her eyes were locked onto him, the olive color ripping right to his core.
He didn't need to look around to know what was around them.
Kankri stood to her right, just like always. The screwdriver lodged in the back of his skull, the very tip visible out his cheekbone. His father stood to her left, his skull split into two, hanging slightly. He knew if he looked over he would be capable of seeing the grey that was his brain, and he didn't dare.
She- His mother, stood next to his father. Her face had blood plastering her hair to her, her skull open. Except, the axe was still there, letting a slight flow of blood around it. Meulin stood next to Kankri, her eyes locked onto him just like everyone else. The rope was around her neck, tied so tight that her skin differed from everyone else's. A light blue tinted her, a sign of asphyxiation.
Of course, Karkat knew what would come next. Out of the darkness of his room, he would step out. The man that had been responsible for it. His hand rested on Nepeta's shoulder, a smile plastered on his face. He would pull the knife from her chest with a sickening squelch, earning Karkat's stomach's distaste.
"Aww, you look so sad. "
Same as always. The man leaned forward, the tip of the knife pressing to the very edge of Karkat's mouth. Karkat's eyes would follow him the entire time, paralyzed in his bed. He watched as the tip broke the skin at the very edge of his mouth, tears beginning in his eyes as he watched the knife begin to travel to his cheek bone, splitting his mouth into an unnatural smile.
With a jerk, Karkat suddenly sat up in his bed, his eyes wide open. Everything was gone, his room partially lit up by the sun. His nightmare was gone, leaving him a screaming mess. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he tried to jerk away, though he was pulled closer into someone warm and squishy.
"Karkat it's me!"
Karkat's scream slowly died away, leaving him a panting mess against his aunt. He tilted his head back, looking up at the woman. She looked similar to Kanaya. She had beautifully tanned skin, though she had much longer hair. Piercings were on her lip, and eyeshadow and eyeliner that could slay a dragon. Her arms were wrapped around him, black tattoos covering them.
"You okay now, Crabby?" Her voice said, oddly soothing to him.
Karkat sighed gently as he pulled away, nodding. He rubbed his face, noting how bad he was trembling. "He just...He started to cut me this time. " He sighed, looking up to the jade green eyes that were similar to his mother's.
"Well, come on. You can help me with dinner. " Porrim said gently, reaching out to coax Karkat out of bed. He followed quietly, frowning slightly. He could still smell it, the smell of rotting flesh. He swallowed down the bile that threatened his esophagus, nodding.
Steps echoed as they made their way to the kitchen, pretending as though the horrors never happened.