Never Coming Back (AHiT Short Story)
So uh, to quickly explain this before you all hate me for the upcoming sadness and angst, I had this thought like late last night and I decided to write it out. (Also to give a bit of context, this is set around the time when Snatcher and Moonjumper were fighting for Subcon, before Moon become reformed) Not gonna lie, the idea made me cry. So...hope you enjoy it!
(WARNING! This fic deals with the subject of death, mourning, and a slight mention of blood near the end. You have been warned.)
***
Subcon Forest had become...much quieter, in these past couple days. Barely anyone was seen roaming around the forest, even all of the ghost inhabitants. It had been like this for awhile now, ever since “that day”. It seemed like no one, not a single soul, would dare to make a noise. In fear of angering their king, or worse. So it was especially quiet up near the Snatcher’s home, where the ghost king had been staying for over more than a week now. It was silent, it was cold, it was dark.
He wasn’t even reading, nor was he making any contracts. He was just sitting there, his head sunken low and his hands clamped together. He didn’t say a word, and let the dust around him collect in his lonely home. He even restrained himself from fidgeting, as a nervous habit, which he had surprisingly gotten better at as time went on. His traps hadn’t gone off for days upon days straight. Or, if they had, he certainly didn’t care enough to check. He was too busy lost in his own thoughts to even care about going hungry anytime soon. And the hunger wasn’t even affecting him anymore, as he had lost all ability to notice or even care about his well-being. Which left him alone, in his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him sane.