Your name is Karket Vantas. You are two sweeps old, (about five years in human time) and about a few perigees ago you were ran out of your hive because of some blood zealots who discovered you had mutant blood. You ran into the desert and nearly died, but you saved by an exile called Jack Noir, though you would later know him as Spades Slick. You are also the former player of a game called Sgrub, a universe destroying/making game that turned your life and those of your friends into a living hell. You won in the end, and the universe you now live in, while far from perfect, was a happy enough existence.
Or, at least it would be, if it weren't for the fact that you're not supposed to know ANY of this. You were supposed to forget along with your friends, to get a clean start, a new life. But, about a perigee ago, you started having dreams about the game. It didn't take long for you to realize that these dreams were actually memories. You started to remember all of your old friends, including one Terezi Pyrope...who was your matesprit before you destroyed the game.
And that you used to be a boy. That, honestly, was just plain bizzare.
But it wasn't the pining for missing friends, even if some of them were complete jackasses, that was so hard.
It was the nightmares.
Death, misery, horror, guilt, grief, they all haunted your dreams like a storm cloud that wouldn't break apart. Sometimes they were so bad you'd wake up in the middle of the night and have to cry yourself back to sleep. You never went to Slick for comfort, his past-self was the main reason you went through all of that shit in the first place! Besides, the man had the sensitivity of a blunt axe, and was about as cuddly as a cactus.
You sigh as you squeeze your crab plush, which looked like a cutesy-fied version of Crabdad (
you admittedly miss your Lusus a lot) as you lie awake in bed. You know you have to go to sleep, but knowing your shitty luck you'll just end up having another nightmare. They'd been getting more common and vivid, and you were starting to lose sleep over it. Slick had noticed for god's sake, that was just plain pathetic if Spades Slick could notice!
You sigh again as you close your eyes and bury your face in your pillow.
This time it wasn't Horrorterrors or death or even Bec Noir.
It was Lord English.
The demon behind it all.
And he had come back.
He was standing over the bodies off all of your friends, the revived Green Sun burning in the background behind him, their blood painted all over the floor in a sick twisted pattern that was still burned into the back of your eyelids. He was laughing while he held Terezi's lifeless body in one of his huge clawed hands, tossing her to the floor where she landed with a sickening splat her teal blood joining the mess of a rainbow on the floor. You can't even breathe as your throat closes in on itself, making it impossible for you to even scream while terror turned your blood to ice.
You can't move as he approaches you, smirking a slasher smile that beat Meenah's any day of the week, and then you do scream as he raising a clawed hand towards your throat.
And then you wake up, not crying, but screaming like bloody murder.
You hear a loud crash and Slick swearing before you hear his tell-tale foot steps stomping towards your door. Slick all but slams your door open, knife in hand like he expected some kind of assailent to be in your room, and maybe he did. You don't really notice though, you're too busy sobbing your heart out, clinging to the plush like a life-line.
He takes one look around the room, and then at you, before he growls something about nearly having a fucking heart attack.
You expect him to just turn around and leave you there, and you were actually kind of hoping he would. But instead he pockets the knife, glances around a bit awkwardly before striding over to where you were sitting and wailing, far too upset to make any cohorrent sentences. He picks you up and off of the bed easily, and instinctively you immediately cling to him with your face burried in his shoulder.
You hardly notice when he carries you out of your bedroom and into the living room, sitting down on the couch before setting you in his lap so that your's still facing his shoulder.
"There, there you goddamn pansy." He mutters, running a hand through your hair while you hiccuped a few times. "You're alright, it's alright. It was just a bad dream."
He doesn't say anything else as you choke out a few last red tinted tears. You've probably just permanently stained his shirt, and Droog's probably going to give him hell for it, but if he cares he doesn't mention it as he turns on the tv and finds a rated G movie for you to watch. You don't say anything as the movie plays, but about half way through it you realize that he's still running a hand through your hair, being careful to avoid your horns as he did so.
So much for the 'cuddly as a cactus' statement.
Was this really the same guy that turned into the monster Bec Noir? Or even the same guy that was Jack Noir, the carapace that had stabbed you on multiple occasions? Though granted he wasn't a carapace anymore, he and the other Dersites had basically turned human, minus the usually irridescent violet eyes and sharp teeth that could match a Troll's. And sure, Jack did try to comfort you that one time when Sollux (now Soluxa) died, though it was really half-assed at best, not to mention he stabbed you (
again) for crying again later.
It was hard to believe that the man acting as your guardian was also the man who haunted some of your worst nightmares. But It was also hard to believe how much he's changed.
You can't say you really mind through as you drift off into a nightmare-free sleep.
You just hope you wake up on the new Prospit soon.