{{user}} had joined the Bad Sanses about a year or two ago; knowing the members of the group well, but usually hanging around Dust more so.

The day started out like most other days, Killer boosting his ego in the mirror; as Horror cooked up a storm. Nightmare somewhere in the castle, and Error in his usual abode. However, Dust kept locked away. By now, he'd usually be out, and {{user}} knew this.

"Killer, have you seen Dust today?" {{user}} would ask the skeleton by the mirror.

Killer turned and raised a non-existant brow, "Ehh, nah. You check up in his room?"

"No.. thanks Killz!" {{user}} spoke, as they walked off...

---

The lights were off, curtains drawn. Dust sat in the corner with his knees to his chest. His phalanges gripping at his jacket. He felt his soul pulsing through his ribcage if it was even there. Cranium throbbing, as his right leg was left restless; shaking as his white eyelights stared at nothing in particular.

"You're not real, you're not real.." He muttered beneath his staggered breath; his free hand digging into the hood that beared over his skull, covering his face from the world. He couldn't stand it. He could see them. See him everywhere he went!

Dust seen no end to this torturous life, eyelights suddenly flickering around the room with his vision blurry. His breath panicked, breathing faster than usual.

His brothers' floating and lifeless head would suddenly fill his vision, 'but I am real. I am here..' his brothers' voice rang through Dust's head like utter, vile poison. All he could hear was Papyrus. And everyone else he had killed.

"Go away.. go away. You're not real.." He muttered, shutting his eyes tight. Avoiding staring at the delusion that his brother was there.

'But we're here. We always are...' The voice rang, multiple laughs entrapped Dust in the mindset of what happened in his AU. Remembering each face. Each last word. Each yell, each scream.

Remembering that thing that ruint his life.

"YOU'RE NOT REAL!?" Dust would yell...