Chapter Text
He had no name.
Neither did his world.
He was a concept. An idea. A sketch. A drawing in an empty white void.
He was forgotten. Abandoned. Alone, in his unfinished world.
He had a soul. He wished he didn’t. If he did not have a soul or feelings, he would be like the others. He would be empty. Apathetic. Uncaring. He would not think about the endless white that was broken only by the empty shells of unfinished people. The unfinished sketch that was his brother tried to speak to him. He knew his brother at least tried. If he listened hard enough, he could almost hear him. But it was not enough.
The loneliness grew. The sadness became anger and that anger became despair. The despair grew and grew in his soul, so painful and sharp he screamed. But nobody heard him. Nobody helped. Nobody came.
There was no such thing as time in the whiteness. There were no hours, days, months, or years. Time simply marched forward. It passed until he could not take it anymore. Again he cried. Again he screamed to the apathetic and the empty and the whiteness that did not care. It did not matter that no one heard or cared. He screamed to show himself that he existed.
“I just want to be someone!”
He grabbed at his chest and summoned his soul. His fingers dug in and he cried in pain and sorrow. He did not know what would happen when he destroyed his own soul. He only knew he could not take the emptiness anymore. He could not take these feelings anymore. He wanted the pain to end. He wanted this existence to end. He wanted himself to end, one way or the other. He hated the thought of destroying anything but he would perform this one act of destruction to make the pain stop.
Black tendrils wrapped around his hands and held them in place. The sight of them startled him so thoroughly he stopped moving at all. The tendrils were cold. Colder than the whiteness and the loneliness. Colder than the despair that drove him to destroy his own soul. He looked up and someone was there. They were taller than him. Bigger. And scarier. Most would be stricken by terror at the sight of the corrupted monster in front of them but not the nameless monster. For the first time in his existence, he saw a color: cyan. He saw color and felt pure joy.
The dark monster hissed in pain but did not release him. A cold cyan eyelight flicked from his soul to his face and he tipped his head. The movement was more curious than mocking. “Interesting. Most feel pain when I touch them. That or they die. Why not you?”
The nameless one was too shocked to see someone else and hear their voice to use his own. He pulled his fingers from his soul and wrapped them around the tendrils— tentacles? They were surprisingly soft to the touch. The monster with the bright cyan eye seemed almost amused by his curiosity.
“Do you know who I am?” When the nameless one shook his head, he gave a huff. “I’m not surprised. I am Nightmare, the Guardian of Negativity. Your despair drew me here.”
The nameless one touched his soul and felt a twinge of pain. He looked down at it to see several cracks where his fingers had dug into it. It was damaged but not destroyed. What once would have been freedom from his hellish existence now made him shiver in despair over what he had almost done. A shudder passed through him so fiercely that his bones rattled. Nightmare relaxed and the hints of pain left his goop-covered face. The nameless one put together what the title of “Guardian of Negativity” might mean and shuddered again. He fell onto his knees and clung to the hem of Nightmare’s shirt. The shirt was icy cold to the touch but it was nothing compared to the chilling despair that drove him to want death.
The nameless one only knew the empty expanse of his world but he was not completely ignorant. He knew what emotions were. He knew something existed outside of it. And he suspected Nightmare would leave him behind in order to feed off his continued suffering.
“Don’t leave me.” he begged. “Please.”
The smile Nightmare gave him was nothing short of malicious. “Why shouldn’t I? What benefit is there for me to not leave you to suffer and rot?”
The fear and despair came on so quickly that the nameless one couldn’t breathe. He curled in on himself, too terrified to even make gasping sounds as his bones shuddered and rattled. Nightmare’s mocking grin vanished. If the nameless one’s vision had not been blurred by tears, he might notice that the Guardian of Negativity looked uncomfortable. A cold hand rested atop the nameless one’s head, petting him in a mockingly gently manner, and he basked in the contact despite himself.
Nightmare crouched in front him and smirked. His cyan eyelight glittered. “Luckily for you, you’re interesting. Not just anyone can survive my touch. And you can’t give me more negativity if you’re dead. So how about we strike a deal? I’ll bring you with me out of here and in exchange you work for me. My Gang could always use another member to bring negativity to the Multiverse.”
The nameless one surprised even himself when he hesitated. It was an offer he never thought he could have. He should jump at the opportunity to get out but he couldn’t. He had been abandoned long ago but he had a soul. He had feelings. He had a personality. He had gained some aspects of self, be it due to an innate nature or because of his environment. No matter the source, the nameless one could not accept the idea of hurting others. That core piece of him refused.
He lowered his head and watched his tears drip down onto his femurs. “I can’t destroy or hurt people. I can’t.”
Nightmare’s hand did not leave his head. His cold and calculating cyan eyelight raked over him as though it was studying everything that made him him. It must be a pathetic existence to observe. That thought crushed his already broken spirit and he scratched at his soul. Nightmare grabbed his hands with his tentacles and pulled them away from his chest. His smirk was wide and ominous. It grew wider as he felt the nameless one’s spike of fear.
“Then I won’t make you. Letting you die would be a waste of negativity. Join me and I’ll find a use for you.”
The nameless one suspected that if he was not going to be forced to bring suffering to others then he would become the one that suffered. He accepted that fate because anything was better than the empty whiteness of his abandoned world. “Okay.”
Nightmare studied him and his emotions and his soul. He smiled and lifted his empty hand. His tentacles tore through the unfinished sketch that was his brother. His brother had no soul or feelings and felt nothing as he was destroyed, not even relief. The nameless one felt for him.
Wrapped in Nightmare’s tentacles, he quietly wept for the brother that could not be there for him. The remaining sketches were not formed enough to react in any way at all as the black tentacles destroyed them too. Now the empty white world truly was white and empty except for the nameless one and Nightmare. The nameless one got the message that Nightmare sent. He had no use for the useless and if the nameless one proved himself to be useless, he would end up back here without even the unfinished sketches for company.
Nightmare held onto him as he cried for the brother that tried to be there for him but could not due to his nature. It was not a hold of comfort but one of power to show him who was in control. It was only when he ran out of tears that Nightmare let go of him and summoned a portal. Through it the nameless one saw so many colors that he only knew about through impressions left by the one who abandoned this world. Blue, gray, green, black. Black was the most familiar of them but it was so much better than white. The nameless one still loved cyan the most.
Nightmare stepped through the portal and stood on the other side. The nameless one felt another jolt of fear that he would close the portal in his face. The Guardian of Negativity’s cyan eyelight shone with vicious amusement. “Come on before I change my mind.”
The nameless one dove through the portal and landed on… green. The air moved and tickled at his bones as it passed. He stopped in place and stared at the green stuff under his feet. It was soft and a little prickly. He wiggled his foot back and forth and enjoyed the sensation.
Nightmare glared at him. “Stop playing in the grass.”
The portal was open behind him. One shove and the nameless one would be back where he came from. The fear returned in earnest.
Nightmare settled, satisfied. “This way. Let’s get you some clothes and introduce you to the others. What’s your name?”
The nameless one kept his head down and studied his feet and the nice green grass. The despair gripped his soul again and he let it because it would make Nightmare pleased. “I don’t have one.”
“Of course you don’t.” Nightmare muttered.
The nameless one desperately hoped he was not already regretting his decision to let him out of his empty world. He followed Nightmare up a… gray line thing with little individual gray square shapes that led to a… house. Yes, this must be a house. He did not have anything to compare it to but this was a “building” and it had “walls” and a “roof” so it must be a house. He had never seen a house before. He wanted to touch the hard-looking black square things that made up the house but he did not want Nightmare to feel any happiness he experienced from touching the house.
The house was black and the grass was green and the sky was a dark blue and there were little lights in it. The nameless one tried not to feel happy to see all these colors. It was so beautiful he started to cry again.
Nightmare looked back at him as he opened the swinging thing on the front of the house. What was the word? A “door?” “Crying again? You’re pathetic.”
He almost sounded pleased by that so the nameless one nodded in agreement. He was okay with being pathetic as long as he was not useless. If he was useless that meant there was no reason to keep him around and Nightmare would send him back to the white, empty world. He suspected that fear of abandonment he felt would be a constant. He hoped it would be a constant so Nightmare could find some use in his presence even if he was pathetic.
They entered the big stone house. Nightmare led him through a big room with a big staircase and down a thin long room (ah, a hall was what it was) to another room. There were so many rooms and a lot were big. None were as big as the empty whiteness though and they all had colors. Mostly black, gray, cyan, and blue but the nameless one loved them all so much. He wanted to feel the gray stones and the cyan lights and the blue stuff on the furniture that might be a bed. But Nightmare was frowning again, reigniting his fear.
Nightmare looked at him and did a double-take. “Where did you get that spot from? You didn’t have that before.”
The nameless one did not understand. Nightmare grabbed his arm and yanked him over to a smooth surface that reflected the appearance of the room. The nameless one looked in the mirror. On his right cheek was a black splotch. He had never seen himself before but if Nightmare said he had gained a black splotch then he must have. He touched the splotch and smiled when it did not come off. He liked that the black mark covered some of the white of his bones.
Nightmare went to a small room off the side of the big room and threw something at him. He did not expect it so it hit him in the face. Whatever it was felt so soft. He recognized clothes because the empty that was meant to become his brother had part of a scarf. He wanted a scarf.
“Put that on.” Nightmare commanded.
The nameless one obeyed. The clothes were a simple brown long sleeve shirt and loose pants but he loved them so very much. He never had clothes before and these ones covered a lot of the white of his bones. Nightmare had given him something to cover his white with color. He would do his best to be useful somehow and return the favor.
Nightmare was leaving. “Come on.”
The nameless one hastily followed him out. The stone was nice and cool beneath his bare feet. He tried not to enjoy the sensation too much.
“Do you have any skills?” Nightmare asked as they walked.
The nameless one shook his head.
“Do you know your magic?”
Again he shook his head. His dread increased.
Nightmare scowled. “Do you know anything?”
“This is a house.” the nameless one said quickly, eager to show he had some use. His fear crawled up his spine when Nightmare’s scowl deepened.
“This is a castle. Stars, you really are pathetic.” Nightmare rubbed his forehead irritably. “No matter. Dust will have to teach you the basics since Cross isn't here right now and he’s the only imbecile with any patience. Killer would become annoyed and kill you.”
The nameless one nodded agreeably. It made sense that someone named Killer would kill.
“Horror will teach you to cook and clean. That will be your job until I figure out what other use you have. You will refer to me as Boss or King, not Nightmare. Understand?”
The nameless one kept nodding.
“Don’t cause trouble or you will regret it.” Nightmare’s tentacles flicked. Er, Boss’s tentacles flicked. Could he call him Nightmare in his head or was that not allowed? He did not want to ask in case Nightmare became annoyed and sent him back to the empty whiteness. “But don’t let the others walk all over you either. You’re no use to me dead.”
The nameless one hesitated but nodded again. He was not sure why the others would walk on him but if Nightmare commanded him to not let it happen, he would do his best to prevent it. Even if he did not know how and suspected he would be unable to fight back much.
They entered a room that was even bigger than the one with the reflective surface. There were three skeletons like him. He wondered if Nightmare was also a skeleton under all that black goop. He knew other types of monsters existed and had seen them in the outlines of the unfinished empty sketches but it felt like Nightmare was not one of those types.
Two of the skeletons were fighting. The one with their hood up chased the one with black streaks down his cheeks, shouting something about him “insulting Papyrus”. The one with black streaks cackled and jeered. As the nameless one watched, a knife appeared in his hand. Was that magic? The third skeleton had a hole in his skull. He watched the chase with a bored expression. Nightmare did not look as bored. He seemed irritated.
“Killer, Dust, stop this at once.”
The one with the hood stopped like he had been commanded but the one with the black streaks did not. He turned towards Nightmare and the nameless one and his face lit up with ominous glee.
“Hey, Boss! I didn’t know we earned a treat. Cause it looks like you brought us some free EXP.”
The skeleton sauntered forward with his knife. The nameless one subconsciously stepped back and hid behind Nightmare. He grabbed one of the tentacles in front of him for security. The knife-wielding skeleton immediately halted in place. His eye ridges rose with surprise.
“He can touch you? Huh.”
“Leave him be, Killer.” Nightmare grabbed the nameless one with his tentacle and yanked him into view. He was not sure what to do so he hung there limply. “He’s pathetic but he has potential.”
Killer whistled. “Hell yeah he has potential if he can survive touching you.”
The nameless one stifled his relief because he was not sure if it counted as a negative emotion. If Killer was interested that was a good thing. Interest meant not being abandoned. Interest meant usefulness.
“Meet Killer, Horror, and Dust.” Nightmare introduced. He set the nameless one down. “Boys, meet our newest recruit. This one comes from such an unfinished AU that he doesn’t even have a name.”
A strange feeling washed over him and he saw a strange screen in front of him. He recognized letters like the “_____tale” in the corner of his abandoned world. It was difficult to read the letters but he managed.
Name: [NO INFORMATION AVAILABLE]
Original Universe: _____tale [Blanktale/I̸͍̓n̴͍͊k̵̢̑t̷̡͐a̵̰̚l̷̮̈́ẻ̸̳] (DATA UNAVAILABLE )
Role: P̷̰̀r̵̦̿o̴̡͐t̴̮̓e̴̝̚c̵͍̄t̶̮̂o̸̡̽r̷̢̀, C̸͕̎r̸͔͑ȩ̸̐a̷̧͊t̶͉́ǒ̷̧r̴̥͗ (DATA UNAVAILABLE)
Height: 3.8ft
LV: 1
EXP: [DATA INACCESSIBLE]
HP: [DATA INACCESSIBLE]
ATK: [DATA INACCESSIBLE]
DEF: [DATA INACCESSIBLE]
Abilities: [DATA INACCESSIBLE]
CHECK
* Nobody
Killer snickered. “Those are your STATs? Wow. That’s just sad.”
One of Nightmare’s tentacles struck the knife from his hand and the screen faded away. “No fighting him, Killer.”
Killer rubbed his hand and scowled. “I wasn’t gonna. It’s not even worth the EXP.”
The nameless one’s fear curled along their spine at that comment. He needed to be useful, not worthless.
Horror rose from his seat on the couch. He, like the other skeletons and Nightmare, was much taller and bigger than the nameless one. Something about Horror’s intense, unwavering stare unnerved him but that was a good thing because any negative emotions made him have a use.
A large hand reached out and the nameless one closed his eye sockets. Was his suffering going to start already? He hoped it made him useful. He was so pathetic and useless his creator abandoned him and his world. He could not make himself hurt others to spread negativity but he would gladly endure whatever he had to in order to be of use.
Horror’s hand landed on top of his skull and he repressed a flinch. The touch was strangely light and gentle. It was much warmer than Nightmare’s had been. The nameless one pushed down his relief and let his fear out. His body shook and his bones rattled.
Horror smiled. His smile was crooked, large, and slowly crept across his face. He petted the nameless one’s head. Unsure of what was expected of him, the nameless one remained still.
“Ink." Horror rumbled. "Like his splotch.”
The nameless one did not understand.
“Aww you’re giving it a name. That’s adorable.” Killer cooed but his voice leaked malice. No wonder he was so useful to Nightmare. “What do you think, Boss?”
"Whatever." Nightmare was not even looking at them. His cyan eyelight was unfocused. Was he observing another world? “Ink is as good a name as any.”
Ink was a name? His name? He now had a name of his very own. They had given him a name, which was a courtesy not even his own creator had bothered with. It might be the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. The newly dubbed Ink struggled not to feel happy about it. The cold glint of Killer’s stare made it easier.
Dust shoved Killer hard enough to make him stagger and grinned down at the new recruit. “Nice to meet you, Ink.”
It did not feel very nice at all. Ink nodded anyway even though his soul was heavy in his chest. He was out of his empty white world. He tried so hard to make his empty, lifeless world a better place and thus he could not bear the thought of harming others and making other worlds worse. He could not do it. But he would serve Nightmare and his Gang through other means. He would endure whatever he had to in order to be someone and remain free.