#dsmp!ghostbur

Bile rose in Techno’s throat as he stared wordlessly at his brother.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand that this was necessary.

Of course he hadn’t wanted to do this. Who wanted to rip people’s homes apart? Who wanted people to stare at them like they were the devil on earth, merciless and cruel, dealing judgement without care. Of course he had a reason, how could he not?

He steeled himself and took a confident step forward, towering over his brother even as his heart beat in his mouth. “I did this for you, for you all; you’re just too selfish to see it.”

Wilbur’s mouth was agape. He looked at Techno as though he didn’t know him, eyes filled with horror and some other emotion Techno wasn’t sure he wanted to put a name to.

His gaze flicked around, taking in the collapsed buildings, the raging fires, the bodies that littered the floor, before looking back at him as though in disbelief. “You look at this, you look at everything we made, and you feel nothing?”

His tone was incredulous. It was almost as if he expected Techno to turn around and tell him this was all a joke and that this hell had never been real, just some sick, sick prank.

Techno said nothing of the sort, jaw set and expression stony.

“I saved you, Wilbur, you just don’t see it.”

“How?” The ghost screeched, stumbling backwards, putting distance between them. His voice trembled with hysteria, gesturing erratically around them as though if he just tried hard enough Techno would see reason. “How can you still believe you’re the hero of this story?”

The words hit Techno like a knife to the heart. With startling clarity, Techno knew exactly what that look in his eyes was.

It was funny, Techno thought.  The ghost had never looked more inhuman and yet he had never looked more like his brother. Never looked more alive.

“You think I’m a monster.”

The words were a statement, not a question. They hung in the air between them, loud despite the near silent tone they’d been whispered in.

Ghostbur said nothing. Yet, that was all he really needed to say.

The ghost’s eyes caught the orange glow of a nearby fire and – yes, there it was. Hatred.

Techno nodded, unable to muster any words.

He was a monster.

How could he have ever believed otherwise? How could he have ever believed he could be more? How could he have ever believed that he could change; become more than they’d made him?

Techno felt like his world was crumbling. His life was draining of colour before his eyes. Everything was moving so fast and he was being left behind, moving in slow motion, trudging through oil.

He’d thought that he was better, that he could be better. He was wrong.

How could he be right, when even his brother looked at him and saw a monster?

He turned on his heel without another word. If Wilbur said anything, he didn’t hear it, sounds echoing around him. Everything felt distant and murky; obscured as though he were miles under water, listening to their faint echoes. It was as though he was walking in a body that was not his own, in a world that didn’t exist. Everything moved on autopilot as his mind drifted away.

The feeling normally would have been terrifying, but he just felt relieved.

He didn’t want to be here anymore. He didn’t want any of this to be real.

He didn’t want to admit it.