So I haven't written anything in a long long time but I have some the draft for Prison part 3 that I wish I could continue but don't have the mindset too anymore. But this might as well be published instead of rotting in my archives

Please this was written 1 year ago so forgive how awful it is😰

"It never gets old, does it...?"

"No, never." Cross shook his head softly and tore his gaze away from the scene in front of him, his mismatched pupils resting on the face of Nightmare, his 'partner in Crime'.

He was fixated completely on what was in front of them, his blue pupil not even sparing a glance at the smaller for a second of acknowledgement. Cross didn't mind, though. The crimson light the sun gave off highlighted his features nicely, the black slime that slid down his body highlighted with blood. In fact, you could nearly see the world's reflection in it.

They were currently atop an abandoned military look out base, the old crumbled bunkers built into the hills having been fenced off as they were too dangerous for visitors due to erosion. Weeds, moss and flowers grew from cracks in the stone; daisies, dandelions and even poppies hung over limply, their petals slumped down in the slow dying light. Their leaves were droopy and stretched down to the gravely roof of the bunker, as if trying to complete an impressive yoga stretch.

Their reason for being up there - despite the safety warnings - was for the view. Atop the hill gave the most glorious views possible, even better than from the Ferris wheel. It was completely undisturbed, no trees, shrubs or buildings in the way to block their view. And boy, was it stunning.

The sun had just started dipping lustfully beneath the rolling waves, that usually blue peaks turned to gold turrets crashing over each other in a gentle and fascinating battle. White capped peaks grew and sank in the distance, no real vigour to them as the winds were quiet. The reflection of the sun against the waves was distorted in a lovely ripple, the colours split and waving with thousands of sparkles strewn across the water like glitter spilt on paper. They twinkled and flashed in the slowly dying light, winking eyes that knew just how good they looked.

It took a few good minutes for the sun to disappear fully, and with it, the golden glow was sucked away beneath the waves and sent a wash of chilling air over the beach that reached all the way up to the two criminals.

Rolling over to press against his accomplice's side, Cross looked over at him with a hint of fondness in his eyes. "Hey, you never told me something, y'know."

"Yeah? And what's that?" He gave him a lazy glance, eye soft instead of piercing.

"You never told me why you ended up in prison." He picked a daisy by his resting elbows and spun it carelessly between the fingertips of his thumb and index finger.

"If I recall correctly, neither did you."

"Yeah, well..." He frowned softly, the end of thumb digging into the daisy's stem and making it snap, shoots of darker green colouring shooting up the stem as it's head bowed greatly with the strain. That simple action, though so small, signed the flower's death. "My story is probably boring - compared to yours, I mean."

"That, I can believe." he muttered, a short sigh causing his body to tense up slightly. It was clear he was in deep thought because he'd gone silent. A deep frown was curved across his face and his eye was narrowed, blue pupil no longer resting on Cross, but unfocused and hazy, facing the slowly darkening beach front. He was obviously remembering something, and whether it was good or bad, Cross didn't know.

He hadn't really expected Nightmare to say anything, so when he spoke, it caught him off guard.

"I was seventeen..." He muttered, his voice dry like slate and expression unreadable. "When it started, anyway."

The skeleton shifted a bit in his position so he was more comfortable and stared at him, surprised that Nightmare was actually starting to open up to him after so many failed attempts. He'd only said a total of seven words, but he already had his full attention.

"And my... dad, father, whatever you want to call him, decided we weren't good enough for him." Cross watched as Nightmare's hands slowly clenched into fists, his fingers digging in harshly to his palms.

"Hey.." He reached out and let his fingers curl around Nightmare's fisted hands, gently uncurling them. "You don't have to tell me." It was true, he desperately wanted to know which of the hundreds of rumours he'd heard back in the prison was true. But he didn't want to force it out of him in any way.

Glancing down at their semi-intertwined hands Nightmare blinked, his vision bleary, as if he hadn't really been in focus.

"I-" He went to blurt out something unintelligible, only to find himself cut off by a loud wailing sound. And not the kind from a wild animal. The kind that often came in hand with flashing red and blue lights and darkly dressed pompous officers.

"Shit-" Despite both of them being far too high up for any police to spot them, the two criminals flattened themselves down against the bunker roof and hissed, their eyes fixated on the sight of seven flashing cars hurtling down the road in the direction of the pier.

"It's provably not for us-" Cross said quickly, shaking his head. "Someone got caught robbing a shop or something."

"Capturing a robber doesn't take seven police cars." He hissed, already pushing back until they dropped out of sight from anyone below, his back pressed against another crumbling bunker wall. "They're for us."

"You don't know that-" He protested, but he quickly found the words die in his throat as the cars made a direct beeline for the bar - gay bar - they'd been lodging above for the past three weeks.

"They- they could still go past-" He said quickly, trying to reassure himself. His throat had gone dry and his soul was hammering in his chest.

But alas he was wrong, and all seven cars screeched to a stop, all circling the bar and cutting off any exits.

"O-Oh god they are- h-how did- how did they find us-?" He stumbled back to Nightmare's side, the unchangeable panic he often felt when he saw police coiling round his body like smoke, cutting off oxygen and impossible to swat away.

"I don't know." The darker growled and stepped closer to the edge of the bunker, the tip of his trainers resting right over the eroding peak of the crumbling stone as he watched floods of officers leave their cars and storm into the bar. "And I don't want to find out."

He could see all the people from inside being forced out and rounded up by the police, all of them being aggressively questioned, probably for the two criminal's whereabouts.

"All our stuff is up there..." He muttered, watching as the small chink of light in the upstairs window was blocked by the back of a police man. "They'll have all of it."

Looking at him in alarm Cross started digging through his own pockets. All that came out was a measly £10.00 note, some loose pennies, a torch and the sheathed kitchen knife he'd stolen from a shop a while ago. So nothing much helpful against 20+ police.

Beside him Nightmare was spitting curses under his breath, a click ringing out as he pulled the slick pistol he always carried from his pocket along with several restocks. Along with that, he also had some loose money, a phone, the keys to the motorbike, oh, and a bloodied screwdriver that's uses needed not be discussed.

"We need to reach my bike." He shoved them back into his pockets and pulled his thick coat hood over his skull, his face engulfed in shadows within seconds. "If they get that, we're fucked."

Sticking far away from the edge the two edged off of the bunker and began descending down the hill. The braken and trees surrounding them were very thick, blocking out the faded light of moon and hiding them from sight of the searching cops. They couldn't see them. But that also caused a great build up of anxiety too, because if they couldn't see the cops, they didn't know what they were doing or planning.

Tripping over roots and rocks the younger hissed out curses and fumbled to pull out his torch, his thumb pressing down quickly on the switch. The two both paused momentarily as the white beam shot across in front of them, light pouring from the cylindrical device in Cross' hands.

Now that they could see where they were doing, their pace sped up slightly, both anxious to get down to the seafront. The beam bounced about constantly, sweeping across the bushes and highlighting all the looming shadows and skittish creatures that ran across the path in front of them.

Having the torch meant they had light, but it also meant that everything around them seemed so much darker. Every shadow took on the form of a beast, gnarled fingers reaching out to snatch and tug at their clothes. Every sound was amplified, the crunching of their shoes on the rocks and twigs beneath sounding like cracks of thunder rolling over a valley of silence. And the sirens had stopped.

"Turn the torch off." Nightmare suddenly ordered, startling him. Quickly covering the light with his hands he watched the light pour through the gaps in his bony fingers, the light making his bones glow red. He could see every joint and crack, smear and scar covering them. It fascinated him. He'd always loved doing that as a child, forever having done it whenever he had the chance. But he quickly shut it off, the red glow fading quickly and his hand being left with a tingling warmth.

Creeping by his partner's side Cross held his breath. They'd reached the bottom of the hill, and the bushes cut off to the open street where people still milled about carelessly. A few had slowed their pace to stare at the scene unfolding at the bar, but none of them stopped long enough to find out what had happened.

"Follow me, and don't leave my side." Nightmare growled, a hand reaching out to tug at the fabric of Cross' sleeve and they slipped out from the bushes. Running to the nearest building the darker pressed his back the cold brick wall, a sharp chill running up his spine. This is just what they didn't want. Why couldn't the police just forget about them and go chase some other criminals? Surely the police had more pressing matters than the two escapees.

Staying quiet Cross waited as Nightmare peered around the corner, the bar visible. He dug his fingers into the palms of his hands harshly until he felt hot blood dribble down his wrists, the red beads soaking quickly into his sleeves or stain his fingers when he shifted.

"Yes." That one word was enough to make his soul spark with hope and he looked round the corner as well, his breath catching in his throat. The outside of the bar seemed completely void of cops - except for two with the rounded up party-people, their backs to them.

Both their eyes were dragged to the same thing, feet shifting. The motorbike was still there. It was propped against the wall as usual, the black sheet dragged over it's frame to both hide it from sight and protect it from rain.

"...It could be a trap." Cross mumbled warily, a hand subconsciously creeping up to clutch Nightmare's arm. "There's no way they wouldn't have found that."

"Yeah, well we don't have much of an option." He pulled out his keys and glanced behind him at the relatively quiet road with lazily moving traffic. "But just in case- go steal us a vehicle."

"Wh- excuse me?" His skull snapped to his attention, eyes wide. "I don't know how to do that!"

"You don't know how to-? Are you- for real-? Y'know what- forget it. Just threaten someone out of their car or something." He gave him an exasperated look before turning back to the bike. "Hurry!"

Stumbling away from the wall Cross stood there dumbly, his eyes sweeping over all the vehicles rolling past. None of them looked like they'd stop if he waved at them, let alone if he brought out his knife.

But then he caught sight of something different; a bus. It swung round slowly, the pace slowing noticeably. That's when it clicked, his pupils darting over to the bus stop no more than twenty metres away. A bus. A bus. Really Cross? A bus? Yes. A bus. A double decker bus, to be specific.

No sooner than he'd taken his first few steps towards the vehicle a yell rang out behind him and he whipped around to see Nightmare tripping over his own feet in an attempt to duck the swinging hit from a cop. The bike had been a trap after all. He hit the floor with a thud, but had rolled back to his feet within seconds and was looking around in a panic for Cross.

"Nightmare!" He yelled, indicating furiously towards the double decker bus before sprinting towards it.

Shoving aside the people trying to board he ripped the knife from his pocket, the sheath being torn off in seconds. He pointed it at the driver quickly, hissing. "Drive."

The man looked up at him in alarm and choked, his watery blue eyes wide. "H-Hey now there's no need to- the fare isn't th-that much-"

"I said drive!" He pressed the cool blade against the driver's throat, their Adam's Apple dangerously close to being sliced as they swallowed.

"No." They forced the word, but their voice sounded surprisingly cool. "The police will get you."

Cross snarled in anger, but inside his soul was shrivelling. Were they really going to get caught?

"I suggest you listen to him." A click rang out beside them and the driver stiffened at the feeling of the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the side of his head.

He could have gasped in relief to see Nightmare, a momentary grin forming on his face before he quickly regained his composure and dragged the knife across the driver's neck, the blade leaving a streak of red that left beads of blood dribbling down slowly.

Stuttering frantic protests the driver quickly hit a button, the bus doors quickly sliding shut. Outside the police skidded to a stop and pounded on the glass rapidly, radios pressed against half of their mouths as they barked orders for back up.

"Drive." Nightmare snarled, the gun digging into the man's skull. He enjoyed the fear he gave off, he reeked of it, fingers trembling and face all sweaty.

The bus started up with a low purr, the police outside only getting more frantic as the driver slowly started pulling away from the stop. A few officers tried to block the way, but upon realising the giant vehicle wouldn't stop, quickly jumped out of being crushed.

"Get us out of here. Fast." Nightmare ordered, his eye never once leaving the shaking driver, expression slightly sickly.

Sighing loudly in relief as he felt the bus build up momentum Cross let the knife fall from their throat, knowing that Nightmare had it under control. For the first time he turned to face the passengers, having forgotten in the moment that they hadn't hijacked an empty bus. He kind of wished they had.

Tens of horrified faces stared at him, all clutching their bags, purses, seats, children and each other tightly. He noted how their eyes followed where his blade went and he sighed, shoving it back into its sheath before in his pocket.

Glancing over his shoulder Nightmare gave all of them a cold stare. "Don't bother calling the police, they're already on their way. We won't kill you if you shut up and stay still, so just stay sitting, and pretend you're clueless fucking bubbleheads."

One opened their mouth in protest, but quickly shut up at the twitch of a brow from the dark skeleton. Cross blinked as he felt the brush of a tentacle against his side, his gaze travelling back to the octopus.

"You're not hurt, are you?" He asked softly, the anger from earlier mellowing as he stared at him.

Shaking his head softly he wiped his bloodied palms on his sleeves. "Only self inflicted, nothing bad. What about you?"

He muttered a short response of "no" before turning back to the driver and reapplying pressure of metal against flesh.

Sinking down on one of the front seats Cross stretched, his eyes narrowed as he cast a sideways glance at the man sitting in the row next to him. He had his legs pulled up onto the seat, arms clutching a briefcase to his chest. He had a pair of wonky glasses resting on his nose and a dark cap covered his eyes slightly. He looked terrified, eyes darting from Cross to Nightmare and back again. He was probably piecing together who they were. Beside him a little child was hidden, his body pressed behind the man he assumed was his father. He stared at Cross shamelessly with a look he couldn't quite place; fear, excitement, horror. It could have been any. But he clutched to his father's side, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip anxiously.

Not wanting to keep his gaze Cross looked out the window, staring at the surroundings rushing past as they drove. He didn't know where Nightmare was taking them, but he didn't bother ask. He trusted that it would be good.

Sighing he bit his knuckle, teeth gnawing at the bone. Now that he had nothing to do for a minute, it gave him a chance to think. The bar was gone now, and they'd never be able to get back to it again. He thought of all the stuff they'd left back there; spare clothes, money, weapons. That giant stuffed panda... That thing had been his bed for the past three weeks and honestly, he'd grown attached. But now that was gone too. All of it was, and now they'd have to start anew.

Upfront at the bus Nightmare was silent, only speaking to give directions to the driver. He had a vague idea of a place they could hide until the heat cooled. It was a place he'd used previously to escape the authorities, and was hoping it would serve him well a second time.

"Carry on down this road." Flexing his fingers agitatedly he growled to himself in annoyance at how the cops had managed to spring them like that. How had they even found out where they lived? They constantly kept low all the time, and no one knew of their true identity apart from the barman, who owned the whole place. And he trusted him closely. It couldn't have been him. So someone must have recognised them and reported it. The thought alone made him pissed.

But maybe they'd just stayed living above that bar for too long. He'd already been lodging there for two weeks plus before he picked up Cross, and they'd stayed there for three weeks after. He normally wouldn't spend any more than a month in one location, paying for no more than four weeks rent. It could have just been a case of staying there too long, people would have obviously got suspicious. They wouldn't make that same mistake again.

Casting a quick look behind him he let his pupil flick across the frozen bus passengers sat stiffly in their seats, all of them flinching at his look. He found their terror amusing, really. They were probably all people that thought themselves indestructible - the human race, top of the food chain and rulers of the world. Yet as soon as they were introduced to a taste of fear, they melted into pathetic puddles, to scared to even speak up. Even the posher looking men in suits were stock still, eyes refusing to meet his as they clutched their important briefcases. They were the type that would brag about how strong they were, the type who used women as toys and trophies. But they always turned into snivelling messes first. What a pathetic species.

Humans always thought they were the top predators - number one rulers of the Earth. But they hardly knew anything. Stupid actions was all they were good at, starting wars over something so petty as religion or "you have a different opinion to me". He couldn't wait for a virus or disease to wipe them all out.

Not finding them worthwhile to look at any longer, his pupil slid over to rest on Cross. The skeleton was slumped on one of the first seats, his hands resting limply in between his legs and skull pressed against the headrest in a tilted roll. His gaze was narrowed as he stared out of the window, eyes dragging side to side as he watched trees, buildings and cars zoom past. He looked tired, any previous adrenaline having leaked from his body and dissolved in the atmosphere. Yet he still held that steely determination, a thoughtful frown twisted on his mouth. It made Nightmare's own mouth twitch in a smile, his eye staring very intently at the smaller's body for a minute before tearing away and staring at where they were going instead.

It was a reckless plan. And incredibly stupid. He wasn't sure it would even work- seeing as how late it was. But he could have sworn it was fine last time. And it being winter, it seemed a lot later than it really was with the black night sky. You could think it was late, when in reality, it was only around 6pm.

They drove smoothly past every single bus stop they came across, ignoring any dings from the clueless people upstairs that somehow hadn't realised the bus wasn't under their driver's control. People were left confused and angry at the bus stops, angry yells ringing out behind them as they swerved through cars and even the occasional other bus.

He was happy to find he was yet to hear the wail of sirens, the cops having somehow not caught up with them yet. He was hoping it would stay like that for as long as possible, wanting to get off the bus before they had blue and red flashing lights blinding behind them.

Scratching his wrist anxiously he readjusted his grip on the gun, eyes dragging over any road signs he could grasp onto before he finally saw the one he was looking for. "Here. Stop-"

The bus driver quickly slammed their foot down on the brakes, the bus screeching to a grinding halt that earned several startled yells from the people on board. Once the bus stopped he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, the sound of footsteps drawing towards him not bothering him. He assumed it was Cross. But it wasn't.

"What are you doing, mister?"

Nightmare stiffened and whipped around, his eye instantly focusing on head-height, only to drop several ft further down.

She looked about seven. She had curly blond hair that reached her shoulders, the bouncy strands being held back by butterfly pink and blue hair clips. She was dressed in a long blue pinafore, a ribbon of some sort tied around her waist that knotted neatly into a bow at the back. Her shoes were white and clean, and pointed together as she stood. Freckles were strewn randomly across her cheeks like a paint splatter, highlighting her big blue eyes that stared up at him questioningly.

Upon seeing her he froze, an odd pressure grasping his soul that sent his blood cold. It felt like a clawed hand had it in it's grasp, and it was squeezing, hard.

The mere sight of her brought memories flooding back. Ones he thought he'd buried forever.

Turning his gun to her wasn't even a thought.

From the back of the bus a strangled cry arose that could only belong to the girl's mother who lurched to her feet at the sight of her child at the receiving end of a gun.

His finger rolled round the trigger and his 'lip' curled in a snarl at the sight of the little girl frowning. But the fear in her eyes. Oh, the fear. It reminded him so much of...

"Nightmare!"

He felt himself jump as a hand grasped his wrist tightly and tug the gun from his grasp, a familiar face blocking his view of the child. Cross. It felt like he'd been snapped out of a dream, his vision foggy and clouded, everything looking like he was underwater.

"C'mon, let's go- Don't waste time!" He fumbled and pointed the gun at the bus driver, hissing. "Open the damn doors."

Nodding feverishly the driver quickly stumbled to find the right button, their shaking fingers quickly jabbing at the correct one.

The gun felt cold and shamefully familiar in his hands, a sense of authority flowing over him. For so much destruction, power and death to lie in one small weapon; it wasn't right. Yet he enjoyed it. But as soon as the bus doors slid open he pushed it in his pocket and grabbed hold of Nightmare's arm, yanking him out of the vehicle and shoving past the surprised people stood outside with their bus passes ready.

The evening was dark and cold, stars already littered across the black sky and winking down at them mockingly. They could see their every decision from their position up in the sky, and he wouldn't be surprised if they relayed every movement they made back down to the police.

Looking around, he tried to figure out where Nightmare had brought them, and why. He was faintly aware of the bus pulling away behind them slowly, the faces of several passengers pressed against the glass to watch the two criminals disappear out of sight once the bus rounded a corner.

They stood at the entrance to a car park, faded street lamps flickering in the darkening night and sending splitting beams of light down that tore smoothly through the darkness like a knife through cake. The car park was mostly empty, a few vehicles parked up and motionless, headlights dull and empty, cold.

There was a building in the distance, a very large building at that. Through the murky darkness he couldn't work out what it was, any of the signs being reduced to meaningless shapes. But the reception light was on. It was still open.

"Nightmare, where the hell are we?" He said through a short breath, eyes narrowing as he slowly pushed the gun into his pocket.

The criminal didn't answer, still seeming to be in a daze from that little girl. Frowning, Cross stepped round so he was stood in front of him, snapping his fingers loudly. "Hello? Earth to Nightmare?"

In the end it took a kick to the shins for the octopus to snap out of his phase, hissing lowly. "What the hell peanut-?"

"You were all zoned out." He grunted, rolling his eyes sharply. "Now wake up and answer my question: where have you taken us?"

"Just look up, geez." He reached down to rub his sore shins, his free hand lazily pointing upwards with a jabbing motion.

Blinking softly he craned his neck back, having to take a few steps away as well to fully allow the subject into his sight. It was a sign. A large stretching sign in the shape of an arch that jutted from one side of the car park entrance to the other. It's colour was a light blue, small lights running round the perimeter highlighting the big and bold words on display.

SEALIFE AQUARIUM

"...Why are we at an aquarium?" His mouth twisted in a confused frown, his pupils flicking over the bubbly designs covering the sign and the painted starfish that littered its surface along with a metal shark and turtle with a flower garland wrapped around it's patterned neck.

"You ask too many questions." Wrapping a tentacle around his wrist he tugged him along, marching towards the reception where a woman could be seen faintly through the glass double doors, typing away at her computer.

Stumbling on after him Cross scrunched his face up in confusion. An aquarium? This was almost as weird as the gay bar. Maybe Nightmare had a bad habit of being drawn to odd and amusing places?

Pushing open the large double doors Nightmare strode inside with Cross behind, his furry hood falling down from his face as he leant against the counter. "Two tickets please."

The woman paused her writing, a tired sigh leaving her as she adjusted her round glasses with black painted short trimmed nails, briefly brushing the hair from her face as well. "Again? I believe it's twice I've had the displeasure of you presence this year alone. What's the occasion?"

Giving an airy wave he shook his head, glancing out the doors towards the car park briefly. "Work stuff, Eleanor, you know me."

"Unfortunately yes, I do." She muttered, reaching down into her draw to take out two tickets, her eyes lingering on Cross for a moment. "Don't have the police swarming the place again like last time, I won't cover for you."

Snatching the tickets up he nodded, giving a mocking bow before walking towards the entrance, chuckling. "You'll have no need this time, don't fret."

Slipping along behind him Cross blinked rapidly, cocking his head. "Who was she?"

"No need to get jealous." He handed the smaller a ticket. "I knew her way back, used to supply her with shit. She's a nice girl, once you get past the drug connections."

"You wish I was jealous." He scoffed and gripped the ticket, feeding it into one of the turning barriers (like at train stations) that stretched across the inner entrance.

"Perhaps." He slipped through behind Cross easily, a smirk adorning his face as he glanced around the open sky-lit room. Before them signs stretched from the ground, all in different colours and all displaying different locations.

Turtles
Crazy Crustaceans
Sea world
Petting Tank
The deep End
Bottom Dwellers
Seals
Toxic Fish

"We should take a picture of you next to that one." Nightmare stretched out his hand and pointed at the particular label of 'bottom dwellers', a comment that Cross found absolutely no comedic value in whatsoever.

"And the audience claps." He muttered sarcastically before he stepped right down in the direction of the toxic fish. Nightmare merely snickered as he followed along behind him. "Your humour is just dry."

"Mhm." His conscience blocked out Nightmare and he glanced around at the aquarium, bones prickling. He felt like he'd hear the police thundering after them at any moment. But the building was silent aside from the soft elevator music playing in the background, whale song and faux bubble noises blending throughout.

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And that's as far as I ever god I'm afraid. I really wish I had written more, but I lost motivation 😔

Sorry for no updates in five months I-

No excuse 😳

Also I've started a kreme oneshot book too so uh check that out

-Jess-