-Chapter Six: A melody of reformation (The list goes on forever)-
A silence stretched out so long and thin Bad was sure even a flick of his tail would shatter the air. Maybe Tubbo would demand for him to get out. Maybe he thinks he was like Technoblade. Yes, he's killed some people, but just because I know him doesn't mean I'm the same.
Tubbo at some point had averted his gaze, picking at the fray of the fur rug. Bad finally cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "What do you mean 'he blew you up'?"
Tubbo cleared his throat as well, but it sounded more forced and like he was avoiding the subject. Then he vaguely gestured to his scars. "I think this should explain enough." he muttered.
"Doesn't sound like you two were friends." Bad said, a horrible chance at trying to lighten the mood. Tubbo scowled. "He's a traitor," he replied simply. Bad didn't push it. It was obviously a sensitive subject. The thought of blowing up and traitor echoed in his head, and he swore he had a string attached to something, but as always, his memories came in vain. Everyone he met seemed vaguely familiar, but not enough to quite spark a connection.
His presence was stronger though. Maybe that's why I -
"So why are you visiting him?" Tubbo pressed leaned forward with the cup to his lips. Slight scuffling could be heard behind him, and Bad looked over his shoulder to see Michael looking for something. The pig man finally snorted in happiness as he found a stack of what looked like paper, and dropped down beside his chicken, pulling some crayons out from under his mustard - colored pad.
Bad bit his lip, looking back at Tubbo. "I'm not completely willing to share." he admitted, adjusting the satchel on his arm. It seemed heavier than usual.
Tubbo opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, dipping his head respectfully. "I suppose that's what I get," he laughed stiffly. "If I hide something you should be able to too."
Bad didn't crack a smile. He hasn't in a while. Nothing has really been making him laugh, so why waste the muscle energy? He just stared back at Tubbo blankly, but gave a small warble in appreciation. "Thank you."
"I mean, I wouldn't be a good host if I kept interrogating my guest, so let's move onto something else. Do you want food? Oh wait, that's still interrogating. Poop."
Bad gave a dry, listless chuckle, one that held no curve and no humor. What had he become? Even Tubbo seemed to be trying a little too painfully to at least gain him a small recognition of a funny bone.
Bad has always melted when it came to guilt - tripping. But now, he just felt like a stone gargoyle.
~--~
Skeppy's bare feet slid on the carpet of the floor, leaving it crumpled like an accordion behind him. Of course, the perfectionist part of him begged for him to stop and fix it, but honestly, Skeppy valued his life way more than a stupid rug. So he ignored that nagging voice and kept running.
Walls of blue and cream blurred past him, until even he didn't know where he was. He scrunched his eyes closed, as he was running so fast the cold air was starting to sting them and let hot tears try to replace the moisture.
Of course that was a small mistake.
One, he could have very well run into a wall. And then he would be disoriented AND blind, so then those hunters - or whatever they were - would have trapped him like a rabbit against a wall.
Secondly, he could have run into the equivalent of a wall, which was exactly what happened.
He crashed nose first into something hard and slightly fuzzy, making him reel back and grab his nose in pain. He opened his eyes to see a dark towering figure standing in front of him, looking around frantically.
Of course, Skeppy screamed. The hunters had finally trapped him, and they didn't even have to do anything. But upon further inspection and the reaction of the other…
"Skeppy!" Bad yelped, immediately grabbing him in his arms. Skeppy protested lightly, then figured out what was really happening.
Bad, being the humongous creature he was, was slowed by the lower hall entrances, and just barely managed to squeeze through. Sometimes along the long halls he would fly a short distance before crashing back to the ground and running.
"Where are the weapons?" Bad asked, panicked but not even sounding out of breath. Skeppy, meanwhile, was the exact opposite.
"Just down… the ha… the hall." He replied, tired of being bounced around.
Bad swerved a bit, and Skeppy could hear a faint zip. Bad hissed like he was in pain, before stretching his legs even longer to get wider strides. Skeppy just peaked from over his arm, then reached up to tug at his ear insistently as he neared the weapons room.
Bad skidded a bit, almost crashing into the wall as he slid into the room. He had to duck a bit, and he dropped Skeppy and retreated into the shadows before appearing again, wings gone and form shorter. Skeppy cocked his head, before jumping at the banging, slowly coming closer.
"You'd think they would even THINK to stay quiet," Bad mumbled. "since they are hunters." Skeppy didn't reply, just grabbed the heavy metal and wood door and pushed it closed with a grunt of effort. It should prevent them from being found. The door looked like every other door down the hall.
Bad was rummaging through the weapons, tossing a few to the side and trashing the place in his haste. "Dude, what the heck!" Skeppy proclaimed, stepping delicately over the laid - askew weapons. Bad looked up at him with faint green again, looking properly confused.
"What do you mean, 'what the heck'?" Bad asked, turning his attention back to the chest of swords he was currently sorting through. Skeppy threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "You're just pillaging our weapons! Our guards use those! You can't just take our stuff just because I'm being nice to you."
Bad raised a brow, tail flicking in slight amusement. "God, princes are so blind. No, I'm getting weapons to fight them OFF. I wouldn't just pillage you."
Skeppy bit his lip, confused. "What do you mean, fight them off? They'll lose interest soon after not being able to find us for a couple minutes."
Bad laughed, low and heralding no humour. "You don't know these hunters. They never stop hunting, in case you haven't gotten the memo. They've been following my trail for nearly several decades. They won't stop."
Skeppy bared his teeth a bit. "So you're suggesting we… fight back?"
Bad nodded. "Uhm, yeah. I mean, don't you think we should? We don't want to get burned down along with the castle, right?"
"Wait, you're saying my castle will get burned down?!"
Bad smacked a palm to his forehead. "Not literally, my goodness."
Skeppy wasn't reassured.
"Whatever. Here, just take this." Bad said, tossing a diamond sword to Skeppy. The hilt just about smacked his face while the blade almost butchered his toe. He juggled around with the object for a second before letting it clatter to the ground far away from him.
Bad opened his mouth to say something, probably to comment on his coordination, but was interrupted as another huge bang rattled the door, making it fly open easily, revealing the three cloaked figures.
Bad lunged, a couple throwing knives in his belt while two others were in his claws. He whipped one to the orange - clad hunter, but they zipped away easily, bounding over to Bad's side and punching him in the ribs.
Bad growled, turning around with a skid and grabbing the hunter, making it writhe in his grasp. The taller tried to bash their head in the wall, but they slid easily through, shoving something into Bad.
Bad hissed in pain, grabbing their wrists and yanking them away, throwing them against a window that shattered against impact.
Skeppy meanwhile was struggling, and hard.
He had the sword in a loose grip, so it slid through his fingers. The blue - clad hunter approached slowly, like they knew Skeppy wouldn't be able to run any farther, or they just enjoyed the feeling of helplessness they induced. Actually, probably both.
Skeppy swung haphazardly, almost knocking himself out in the process. The hunter's shoulders shook, like they were holding a silent laugh. "Uh, Bad? A little help?!"
"You don't know how to use a sword?!" Bad yelled as the green - cloaked figure struck at him, making his tail swing out from under him for balance. Just when Skeppy was wondering where he had gone. Skeppy was of course doing much worse, almost banging his head on a table as he tried to duck away from a hit.
"Of course I don't know how!" Skeppy yelled back, making a sloppy lunge that his opponent dodged easily.
"You're a prince, for Pete's sake!" Bad hissed, pinning his own contender against the wall and aiming his knife over the stomach of the victim. The smile of the hunter bore into whatever they looked through, and it seemed to even reach Bad. He dropped the knife he was holding, his claws shaking hard.
The hunter laughed, turning to air under Bad, and making the demon blanch. They reappeared a good few feet behind him, and Bad whipped around, tail lashing. The demon was still laughing, wiping a phantom tear off from under the black dot of an eye. "Have you ever met such a gullible demon?" the hunter asked. The blue hunter pushed Skeppy to the ground with a foot, nodding and yawning. "And such a weak prince. Oh wait, every prince is like that. I should've known."
Dream tilted his head to the side, holding it with a hand against his "cheek". "And to think you've survived and ran from us for all these years… truly a sight to behold! And I surely thought when I took the job it would be done in a week! Hah!"
Bad just stared, still in his wingless form but his eyes glowing green oce more. "Teaches you well not to mess with me. Yet you still do."
"You couldn't hurt me if you tried." the hunter giggled hysterically. Bad's figure slunched slightly, like he knew he was right.
It was whatever the hunter did that stopped them from having control.
"Whatever. Maybe if I burn this place down you'll go down with it? I can deal with a few casualties." the hunter suggested, tapping the mask thoughtfully. The blue - clad hunter nodded slightly, and Skeppy wriggled under their foot. It just pressed harder, causing Skeppy to whine.
"Or maybe I'll let you go but leave the prince to burn? I don't think he has any sentimental value to you, but he's getting on my nerves trying to protect you." the green figure continued, counting off the things they could do. "But why would I let you go?"
"Maybe you just enjoy a good chase?" Bad suggested, on the thin line of indignant and hopeful.
The green figure tapped the bottom of their ceramic mask before dropping their hand. "Maybe. Or maybe you should just die." Their palm opened, and a spear materialised in their hand, long and sharp, the wood beneath the blade tied with a hole - ridden white ribbon.
Bad stepped back, claws scraping against the wood floor and leaving marks. Skeppy knew his dad would have a fit about that, if the castle even survived the possible arson about to come.
"You know you can't kill me. Remember Ursia? Cuyk? A bar in the middle of nowhere?"
"I have no idea what you are thinking of, scum. And I will kill you, as slowly and painfully as possible. As POSSIBLE." Skeppy could practically hear the real smile behind the mask. Bad growled a bit, tail lashing.
"And you can't escape."