i.

His kingdom is in ruins.

Antasma stands before him, severely weakened. He is wounded, though he does not let it restrain him. He only has one thing left to do.

"You'll never hurt another soul ever again." he proclaims, readying his blade. He will not show mercy for the monster, no matter what.

But Antasma wasn't down yet. Just before he can make the final strike, the monster strikes first, blasting him away. He couldn't even keep his grip on the sword, as it clatters to the cracked ground a few feet away from where he went. He can't concentrate, he can't reason, and he can't prevent the monster from getting the last laugh.

But he knows how he'll get it.

"I'll...I'll never become you…" he mutters, struggling to get up.

The hunger has already started.


ii.

"I'm—" he winces. "—alright."

That's what he says to the residents that worry about him. He doesn't want them to worry any more, especially after what happened with Antasma.

He can't let them know. The hunger can't be known.

But alas, it cries out.

He hesitates as he eats his first dream, when it's dark as night and silent as a mouse. He doesn't want to, he doesn't, but—

it tastes sweet as honey.


Let me eat your dream. It won't hurt.

I don't want to do this. The hunger tells me to. I can't stop it.

I can't believe this has to happen. Please forgive me.

I'm sorry.

Dominate. Devour. Destroy.


iii.

The hunger is relentless. He wishes he can do something, anything about it, but it proves unsuccessful. He has to eat. No, he has to devour.

It went against everything he thought was right and wrong, that helping was good and hurting was wrong. Was he hurting anyone?

They'd just have a bad sleep, right? He wasn't a bad person, right?

He can't sleep. The hunger beckons him. Remorsefully, he satisfies it the only way he can.


I don't want to do this again. And yet I do it anyway.

It tastes bitter and lukewarm. I'd hesitate to say you haven't been feeling well, but it doesn't matter.

I'm satisfied again. I'm sorry.

Dominate. Devour. Destroy.


iv.

A dream tastes fulfilling. Like you've completed a holiday resolution, or a long-term goal. It feels...good.

He hesitates. The curse will never end. They'll always taste fulfilling.

No, I can't. I don't want to even look at a dream as long as I live.

The hunger calls out.

Just one more fulfilling dream.

Just

one

more.

He sneaks out where no one can see him and


Do you have good dreams or bad dreams? As far as I know good dreams taste light and fluffy, while bad dreams taste bitter and full of sorrow.

It doesn't matter. I can adapt to bitterness. I'm not picky.

Let me eat your dreams. Your sweet, fluffy, bitter, sorrow-filled dreams.

Dominate. Devour. Destroy.


v.

He can't stop.

Every night where he consumes another dream, the hunger fades, only to come back the next morning. He knows it's getting worse, he has to stop it, has to not let it take over his mind—

"I'll never become you."

He can't.

And every night, the urge to resist becomes nothing more than a faint reminder.


Hunger is a fickle thing. You get hungry, you eat, you're satisfied, rinse and repeat. But I like that.

Your dreams are so beautiful. If only I could have dreams like you. Then I'd never get hungry.

But I want to be hungry.

But why do I want to be hungry?

I don't

I don't—

understand.


vi.

"Stop it!" he cries out. "Stop trying to break me!"

He knows nothing is trying to break him. It's his own fault for eating all those precious little dreams.

They tasted

so

good, but

The hunger never fades

It doesn't

It won't

It can't

but

He cries out.

It's only on him

for eating

our dreams,

That's what they're saying.

A monster? A demon?

Is that

who

he is?

Give in.

Give in.

"Please…" he can barely speak.

They tasted good, didn't they?

Those dreams

they're

delicious

"No…"

Devour. Devour.

"I can't…"

So what about that curse? You enjoyed it.

Dev

our them all, DREAM EATER.

"It...hurts…"

Does it?

Does it?

IT HURTS, IT REALLY DOES

It might, but

it's nightfall already.

"I…"

Devour them. Devour them all.

Do it. Do it.

Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do itdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoit

do

it.


.

"You'll make good prey," he whispers to a lost soul, "but I'm not partial anyhow."


He is the Dream Eater. It doesn't matter how the dream tastes or what it is, for they're all equally delicious.

There is more to him than just simple hunger. He lusts for a meal, a sin he's willing to bear. He revels in your misfortune brought on by a lost dream.

He rules the kingdom that sends everyone into a deep sleep. Once there is rest, he's able to enjoy the feast brought on by the magic from a festival of dreams. His own personal wonderland.

Nothing will stop him.

Dominate. Devour. Destroy.