Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Why am I awake?” You whispered to yourself. Welcome to the dark was one of your unspoken thoughts as you twisted and turned in your sheets, unfortunately awake.

You had been experiencing a dream that was just out of reach now, and probably out of reach for good, but you had an inkling that it was pretty awesome. Therefore, you were a little irritated.

Staring into the darkness- well, semi-darkness, your room was carefully lit by streetlamps from outside- you closed your aching eyes and hissed through your teeth, grumbling. You flipped your thin blanket over your head, then flipped it back off.

The summer heat’s edge was petering off, but it seemed to come back with full force this night. You felt the slight stickiness of perspiration on your skin as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable and hopefully drop off into sleep again.

Your sleep had been disturbed, but for what reason? A stupid one, probably. Like the heat, or the color red or something. You questioned yourself internally. Maybe you needed something. A bathroom break? Food? Water?

It was water. You felt the scratchiness in your throat. Pulling the sheets off of your body, you swung your legs over the side of your bed. Funny enough, there was no head rush when you stood up. You felt pretty alert, which was weird. Most people weren’t this awake for just waking up.Were you the exception this time?

Trying to make it to the door as stealthily as you could with the lighting at hand, you bumped into your dresser. Not lightly, either. A few things fell on the dresser, and one thing actually fell off of it, clattering to the ground pretty loudly.

You froze in place for a second, waiting for any response to the noise. As a few seconds passed without any other sound except the whir of a fan and the usual night soundtrack, you relaxed and stooped down, grabbing the thing that had fallen. With a little inspection, you found it to be your blueberry flavoured lip balm.

You giggled at your skittishness and placed it back on your dresser, knocking a few more things over with your hand. Sigh.

You opened your door and stepped out into the hallway. The journey to the kitchen was nothing special, just sticking close to the wall and moving a step every minute or so.

You finally reached the kitchen with little trouble (besides tripping over a rug on the floor). You went over to the cupboard where your cups were stored and opened it. No glasses. All that was left were mugs. You extended your feet until you were on your tiptoes, reaching for the mugs which happened to be on the top shelf.

Instead of swiftly grabbing a mug in your vision, you effectively smashed it against the others with your hand, creating a loud clink. You winced and snatched it from the shelf, holding it close to your chest. You held it up and looked at it. Hey, it was your old honey bee mug from when you were younger. Cool.

You closed the cupboard with a little too much force; it banged shut with as much noise as a gunshot. You winced once again, your ears already cursing you. A peaceful night ruined by your clumsiness.

The water running out of the tap seemed like a roaring river, so much so that you only let it fill your mug for a few seconds before turning it off. Shutting the tap off, you ventured back to your room, carefully avoiding the rug this time. You took a few sips from your mug as you did so. It didn’t really do much other than let you taste your own mouth, but at least a menial task was accomplished. You did a mini fist pump at that. Maybe completing this task was what your mind needed to rest.

Your room, with its familiar and soothing decorations, seemed just a tad darker than when you had left. The streetlamps light was as bright as before, but the shadows stretched longer, were just a shade darker.

You tried to ban your anxious thoughts as you got back on your bed, placing the mug on your bedside table. You were still entirely not sleepy, but at least you were feeling refreshed.

Instead of laying back down, you laid your arm on your upraised knee, hair falling in your face. You put your other hand up to your face and groaned. You just wanted to sleep. What time was it anyways? You couldn’t remember looking at any sort of clock.

You brushed your hair out of your face, straightened your back, and stared.

There was a shadow that had not previously existed standing right in front of you. Like a void of space a few feet tall, and a few inches away; it looked close enough to touch.

“Oh my gosh.” You let out a half laugh, eyebrows raising. You must have been hallucinating. Your mind was playing a trick on you.

Apprehension hit you as you tired to decipher it with your eyes. It couldn’t be real. It was nothing. An illusion. You put your hand forward slowly to wave it away, to quell the fear that was growing ever larger.

It moved.

You made a sound of confusion and fear, pulling your hand back and jolting away. You got tangled in your blanket, not helping the situation at all. You struggled and inched backwards, giving yourself space from the thing. You gathered courage.

“Um… H-hey?” You said, voice cracking. Great, you spoke to the intruder.

You expected words back, maybe a threat.

Your expectations were wrong.

A deep laugh sounded from the thing, and boy did it not sound friendly. The shadow moved as laughs wracked its body, each one getting you more and more scared. It stopped laughing abruptly, allowing silence to fall. You felt paralyzed, still in your fear. You didn’t know what to do. What could you do? Your heart was pounding, a cold sweat breaking out over your body. You felt a scream building up in your throat.

“FUnny.” The thing spoke. Its voice was deep and sounded like it was filtered through an old voice recorder. Some words glitched, letters repeated in an odd manner. You opened your mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Another laugh.

A car rumbled from down the street, its headlights giving more light to your room. Your eyes widened as you took in the thing that stood in front of you.

It looked all in all like a glitch. Like something one would find after messing with the code in a video game. It was black, inky like the shadows around it. Several particles of itself kept moving and disappearing, showing you the colour of your wall through the spaces. A sort of neon blue stained its cheeks like tears. Just before the car passed, before you were plunged back into darkness with the thing, you looked into its eyes.

And they held uncontained vehemence.

You didn’t look it over much more than that, only those details spoke up to you. But it was enough to classify this being as a monster. Or maybe an alien. You needed to escape. But you couldn’t you were trapped, and both you and the monster knew that.

You saw some motion from the monster, and you moved back more, thinking it was going to hit you or something. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes, confused. It didn’t hit you? What did it do then? You glanced around your room, seeing nothing. Then suddenly, a numb sensation began in your chest and spread through your body. A sharp yelp escaped from your lips as you were caught off guard. Motion from above caught your attention, and you craned your head up.

Several strings of blue drifted down from the ceiling, coming from an unknown source. They dipped lower and lower, their key plan to probably reach you and… Then what?

You tried to move. Nothing happened. You tried again. Nothing happened. The strings dangled closer, and you furiously tried to move anything, even just a finger, to no avail. The strings reached you.

You watched as a strange phenomenon occurred. The strings passed through your flesh, and were drawn by some force to your chest.

Oh my gosh what the f-

A burning sensation began to make its way through your veins, replacing the numb feeling that had previously overtaken your body, nerves screaming from the unknown and sudden pain. You tried to scream yourself, but you came to realize that your jaw was clenched shut, letting only a whine. You concentrated through the pain, looking down to see what in the galaxies name was happening.

The strings were wrapped around a thing that hovered just over your chest; a blob that emitted a soft glow of colour. The strings seemed to be harming it, wrapping tighter around the object and making it pulse under the bindings. Whatever this thing was, it felt like it was connected to your pain, and your inability to move. And the monster had summoned the strings to constrain it.

The lights flickered on suddenly, illuminating your room, and giving you a clear view of the monster that held you in its magic.

A blue jacket with a yellow fur trim, in what only could be described as a blue gradient, dipping to black at the ends. A red shirt, and black shorts with a neon blue stripe. Black slippers for some reason. The monster looked like a… Black skeleton? You wouldn’t have believed your eyes if all of this other stuff had not happened. But that was what it was. A black skeleton. Its eye sockets were red on the inside and held asymmetrical pupils; one was abnormally large, the outside of the pupil being yellow, with an inside of blue. The other pupil was abnormally small; it was just barely a pinprick, and its colour was hard to discern. Possibly yellow. It had a large grin on its face, the teeth appearing as yellow as its pupils.

Words seemed to be affixed to its body, all of them spelling out ‘Error’. This was one more thing on the list of confusing happenings, if you were even compiling a list.

It had its hands hovering at its sides, the bones black except for the last two parts; those were red and yellow, and they had the ends of the strings wrapped around them. It was in control of you. No, he was in control of you.

“Int3r3stIng c0l0Ur” He mused to itself, walking closer to you, his eyes focused on the blob hovering in front of your chest. For no reason you could understand, you felt exposed. It wasn’t a good feeling to have in this moment. It intermingled with the barrage of emotions you had been experiencing, enhancing the terrifying, if small in stature, skeleton that held your life literally in your hands.
“BUt I gU3ss thAt’s 0nE 0f th3 pr0p3rtI3s 0f thIs UnIv3rs3.” His eyes flicked up to yours, taking in the wide-eyed fear that dominated your features. His smile shrank, eyes narrowing somehow.

He took several steps backwards, eyes glazed and looking far away. You released a breath and tried to calm your heart. It was beating hard enough to hurt, and you knew that was not good. The skeleton scoffed, and his gaze returned to you. He was trying to cover up confusion in the form of nonchalance, that was obvious. Whatever he had thought of or seen must have not been what he was expecting.

“N0 m0nst3rs In thIs UnIv3rs3? HUh, wh0 w0Uld hAv3 kn0wn.” He spoke directly to you, smile returning as if nothing had happened.
“ThAt Is A cIrcUmstAnc3 wIth An Imp0ssIbl3 pr0bAbIlIty. Y3t, thIs UnIv3rs3 3xIsts…” The skeleton began pacing, pieces of him glitching rapidly as he moved. You struggled again. Nothing happened. The strings on his fingers gave him slack appearing from nowhere, enabling him to pace the floor of your bedroom with ease. You watched as the faraway expression on his face slowly turned into anger and glee. He wasn’t up to anything good, and it just made your want to flee greater. Of course, you could not do anything. The strings held you firmly in place with the glowing blob.

He finally zeroed back to you, grin larger than before. With a twitch of his fingers, the strings tightened, bringing another wave of burning through your body. You hissed because of it, eyes focusing on nothing.

“W3ll, sInc3 th3r3 Ar3 n0 m0nst3rs Anywh3r3 In th3 c0d3, thIs UnIv3rs3 th3r3f0r3 sh0Uld n0t 3xIst. M3AnIng thAt y0Ur SOUL Is As InsIgnIfIgAnt As A pIl3 0f dIrt. I’ll hAv3 fUn crUshIng y0u UntIl y0Ur SOUL br3Aks Int0 pI3c3s. It w0Uld pr0vId3 s0m3 3nt3rtAInm3nt b3f0r3 I g0 Al0ng And d3str0y thIs plAc3.” He sighed, somehow, as if he was upset. But the grin remained, malice showing on his features. Another twist of his fingers sent the strings tightening slowly but surely, increasing the pain bit by bit. You saw darkness creeping on the edges of your vision, the pain too great. You were going to faint.

Your thoughts were hazy, but one stood out. Fight. Fight. It won’t end this way.

But you couldn’t move! How could you fight! You couldn’t even yell for help. All you could do was breathe, and your breath was speeding up. You were going to die. If you fainted, you would never wake up. You’d be dead, and everyone else would be too.

The last thing you could do was call out for help in your mind. It wouldn’t do anything though, but it was worth a shot. You concentrated on staying awake, glaring into the crazed eye (sockets?) of the skeleton. You made a small space in your mind, away from the pain.

You called for help. But no one came.

You called again. But no one came.

Again, you called for help. But no one came.

You were fading, your mind collapsing. The pain, the pain was too much.

You called out for help.

Someone answered.

A tearing sound, then a bright flash of colour. The strings around you were cut, the pressure releasing. You fell over and began coughing, the burning pain ebbing away. The blob thing was still hovering just above your chest, and it moved with you. A flurry of colour and a crash was heard, and you looked up.

A stand down was happening inside your room. The skeleton who had been crushing the life out of you was glaring with unbridled hatred at his attacker, and your saviour. Who was also a skeleton.

The other skeleton was white like you had seen in science books, but its skull had smudges of ink on it. The most prominent features of this one was its large brown scarf, with wrapped around its neck several times and still hung down to the floor, a rainbow of colours staining the ends. And a giant paintbrush. No, you weren’t imagining it. The other skeleton had a giant paintbrush, and it was brandishing it at the other skeleton like a sword. Its eyes were the normal size, but still weird. One pupil was a blazing blue, while the other one was a golden star that sparkled of its own accord.

It was glaring at the black skeleton as well, though more defensive than him.

“Error! Leave this universe, and all the other ones, alone!” The white skeleton said, addressing the black one. Error shrugged his shoulders, pixels glitching once again.

s0rry, Ink. n0 cAn d0. It's t00 mUch fUn! And y0U kn0w thAt It's my pUrp0s3!” Error swiped at Ink, sending an array of blue strings at him. Ink, in the blink of an eye, swiped his paintbrush at the strings. The paintbrush sliced through the strings, making them dissipate into thin air. Ink spun around, purple paint appearing suddenly on his paintbrush.

Error dodged to the left, sending paint to splatter all over your wall. Ink whirled sideways to hit Error again, but with a tearing sound and a flash of white light, Error was gone. Ink’s paintbrush once again made a large splash of paint appear on your wall.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then Ink sighed in frustration and rubbed his skull with his hand, the purple disappearing from the paintbrush.

Your jaw was open, staring at the skeleton who had ultimately saved your life- But painted your room over at the same time. Well, purple wasn’t the worst colour ever. But with just the two large splotches on your walls, it looked like you had not cared while painting, like you had just thrown the paint on your walls and called it a day.

The skeleton turned around, then jolted back as he saw you. You and Ink stared at each other for a second, then you raised your hand and gave him a weak wave. He blinked a few times (the star turning into a green square, then a purple diamond, then back to a star), and he moved closer to you, twirling his paintbrush then tucking it into a sheath behind his back. His hands were outstretched in a sign of peace, the bones covered by brown fingerless gloves.

His expression was open, trying to convey that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“I won’t hurt you.” He said, driving the point home. You brushed your hair back and nodded, sitting up into a crossed leg position. His eyes broke from yours to your chest, where the blob was still floating. His eyes widened.

“Th-thank you.” You said, your voice creaky. You cleared your throat, putting a hand up to the blob. It was warm, an opposite to how you were feeling now. A cold had settled into your body, and you shivered as it was acknowledged.

“It was no problem. I had been chasing Error anyway, this was just a surprise.” His eyes left the blob, your SOUL as Error had dubbed it, and he looked down to the floor, his arms back at his sides.

Now that the danger had passed, you could take in more details of the skeleton who had saved you. He wore a jacket that was a light grey, with light blue line crisscrossing it. A Blue sweater was tied around his waist, and he wore light brown shorts with darker stripes, with calf pants the same colour of his jacket underneath. Unlike Error, he had on actual shoes, which matched his outfits colours with browns, and yellow laces.

Slung around his waist was something like a tool belt; except it had all of the colours of the rainbow in little vials stashed in it.

The skeleton looked up and stretched out one hand. He looked worried.

“I can put your SOUL back in your body, but you need to trust I won't hurt you, okay?”

“Okay.” You whispered, the cold making you sleepy. Ink leaned closer and put his hand on the blob. With a gentle pressure, he pushed the blob back into you somehow, until it was all the way in. He withdrew his hand and looked at your face, examining your expression.

With the reinsertion of your SOUL, the cold drained away and the heat returned to your body. You became more awake, and you looked back at Ink, a small smile on your face. He smiled back, then stood up and backed away.

He unsheathed his paintbrush, twirling it in his hands.

“My names Ink.” He said to you. You gave your name to the skeleton. He stilled his paintbrush and put his hand out for you to grab. You did so, and you shook his hand. It was actually warm, somewhat like yours, but instead of a soft feeling, you felt the smoothness of bone and the worn fabric of the fingerless gloves. You let go of his hand and covered your mouth, a yawn creeping out of your mouth. Ink’s eyes shifted to where Error had escaped from. He shifted his body sideways.

“I got to go and chase Error down before he does anything else drastic.” The skeleton used his paintbrush, which now had a paint changing all the colours of the rainbow, and opened a tear in your wall. Except it didn’t. It opened up into a world with golden light. You tried to see into it, but Ink blocked your line of sight.

“Um, goodbye.” He said. and with that, he jumped into the portal. It closed, leaving your wall unbroken and perfectly normal. The light was still on, and another yawn, bigger than the last, escaped from your lips. You looked around your room, suddenly realizing something.

“Hey, my room is still purple!”

Chapter Text

Leaves in the colors of orange and yellow, with the occasional red, drifted across the ground in the light breeze that played in the streets. The sky was overcast, a light gray charcoal dust obscuring the sun, though it still let out enough light to see decently. The day was just void of direct sunlight, and it appeared softer because of it.

Rain did not fall; it was simply just a cloudy day. You were walking down the street, bags from the grocery store in hand, going back to your apartment after a supply run. A scarf was tied around your neck, and you were wearing a light sweater. It was just cold enough for it.

You needed more groceries; the food you had would not last much longer, and some things were close to spoilage. At least, that was what you were telling yourself. This was just one of about thirty things you had done to try to get the event that had happened a couple of days ago out of your head.

It couldn't have happened; it was impossible. That sort of stuff came from the intense imaginations of middle schoolers, not people trying to get their life together!

But it was real.

The paint had eventually disappeared. You had woken up to the swathes of purple glowing softly, before fading away back into the normal colour of your walls as if it had never been there. Your hand kept unconsciously hovering over your chest where the blob- your SOUL, as the skeletons called it- had been. Suspicious glances over your shoulder and sleeping with the lights on were now a part of your daily routine.

You, a rational, normal person, were denying it furiously. Trying to, at least. But it was of no use. It seemed like the more you tried to forget, the more your mind burned it into your brain, making you play the events over and over again, analyzing the interactions and the skeletons like it was a conspiracy theory you were trying to solve.

You were growing tired, restless, and irritable. Your part time job was boring and numbing work, your school subjects were beginning to appear as chores rather than the fun they used to be.

Man, this really messed you up.

You knew how to deal with it too. Your mind wanted you to validate the ridiculousness, in any way, shape, or form.

You twirled the pencil in your hand, staring down at the blank page. You had packed the groceries away, taken out a piece of paper, and complied to the madness, only so it would leave you alone. You were going to draw them, the skeletons, or at least one of them.

You started the base sketching, outlining the skull and basic anatomy. As you worked, you silently noted the relaxation this was bringing you. Already you were appeasing your mind. It was settling down, happy for its flustered thoughts being acknowledged, whether begrudgingly or not.

As you finished the basic outlining, you decided to draw the white skeleton- Ink. The scarf came next; a big thing with little detail, besides the folds. You outlined the skull a bit more, defining the features to make it easier to fit the scarf around it. So far, so good.

After a while, the skeleton was looking okay. The shoes were your biggest problem, and the folds in the clothing were wonky, but the hands were okay and the paintbrush bristles were half decent.

It was like you could feel the previous tension leave your body. Your shoulders were more slumped than they had been in a while, and your breathing was easier, deeper, and slower. A few more strokes of your pencil and you would be done. Mostly. You set your pencil down and stretched, glancing at the clock. Wow, an hour had passed already. That was fast.

You leaned back in your chair and idly played with your hair, taking advantage of your tranquil mood to close your eyes and fall into a stupor. You let out a sigh that was almost a groan, you were so content.

But it was not meant to last. Already, your body was edging up, preparing itself, putting your guard back up. It was reacting to something, and that frustrated you. The event had passed; you were never going to experience it again. Possibly. Hopefully.

You growled and opened your eyes, looking around your small kitchen/living room mashup.
“Look me, nothing. Can’t I calm down for five minutes?” Well, at least you were prepared now. If anything harassed you, you wouldn’t be caught unawares. Or, if you were, you would be quick to react.

You bent over the paper again, becoming absorbed in correcting minor flaws. They bothered you to an extent that you just had to correct it. Something was still missing from the drawing though. What was it?

“Hey, great drawing!” In one movement, you tumbled sideways off of your chair and spun smoothly, now standing a few paces away, crouched in a defensive position.

The skeleton, Ink, was standing beside the chair you were previously sitting at, appearing shocked at your sudden drawback. His paintbrush was tucked neatly in its sheath, and he looked less intimidating than a few nights ago. You hadn’t noticed then, but he was actually sort of small. Short.

You relaxed slightly, easing out of your crouch and lowering your hands.
“Um, hi.”

Ink blinked and smiled.
“Hi.”

Well, this was awkward.

“I wasn’t expecting you. Or, anyone for that matter.” You said, wincing inwardly at your callousness. Ink was better than that other skeleton, Error, that was for sure. Ink had saved you, and even if he bolted off suddenly, it was no excuse for you to be rude. You were just tired. Tired from the constant fear that had held you in its clutches for these few days.

You cleared your throat, shuffling a pace closer.
“What did you say? Before, I mean.”

“Oh! Well…” Ink pulled a pencil from who knows where and beckoned you closer. Dropping most of your guard, you approached the drawing and Ink, until you were just separated by the chair and then some.

The skeleton bent over the drawing slightly, just enough so you could still see it.

“The anatomy is great, but there is no shading. Well, unless you were thinking of colouring in the picture, then that would make sense.” He hovered the pencil above the paper.
“If you weren’t going to colour it, then I’d suggest using this part of the paper as the ‘light source.’” Ink put air quotes around the words.

You scrunched your eyebrows together.
“… Light source?”

Ink nodded his head.
“Yeah! Like, the light source. A lightbulb, the place where you base your shadows around. Here let me show you.” He drew a faint circle in the place he had chosen and then faint lines leading to the drawing of him. You watched with interest as he shaded in the limbs and main body. Soon, you saw what Ink had meant.

The shading had improved the image greatly, adding shadow and contrast to places on the picture that you hadn’t thought about. Your eyes drifted with the pencil, noting where the shadow went on the body. Ink stopped and lifted the pencil up, his other hand going to his chin. He looked thoughtfully at the finished product, seeming to weigh something in his head.

You, meanwhile, were playing what Ink had done back in your mind. He had just scratched a bit here and there, yet the drawing was so much more polished, professional. You had left out an important part of the process! Though in your defense, it hadn’t occurred to you. But the thing that was missing was shading. Of course!

Ink mumbled to himself then nodded, putting the pencil back where he had produced it from. You squinted your eyes as Ink straightened back up and closed his eyes… Were those bony eyelids? You stepped back as a glow began to leak from under his eyelids(?). He passed one of his hands over the paper.

The picture suddenly moved. It became animated, the small Ink blinking its eyes and moving its limbs slowly, then smiling bigger and waving at you. You closed your mouth (when had it opened?) and waved back timidly. The drawing ran across the paper, touching each side twice, before sitting down in the middle, legs crisscrossed.

Ink (the real one, not the drawing), opened his eyes and looked to you. You were astounded by your creation suddenly springing to life on the page. The Ink drawing was docile as you ran your fingers over the lines, your eyes tracing the details and the movements.

“Cool, right?” Ink said. Your head snapped to him so fast it looked like it hurt. You winced as a tendon in your neck twinged, but it did not deter you from blabbering wildly, your eyes almost reflecting stars.

“Ohmygoshthepictureismovingcanyouseethatitsamazingdidyoudothis?” You spoke in one breath. Ink’s eyes were still giving off the glow, the star pupil having a slow changing rainbow of colours coming off as almost a vapor trail.

The Ink drawing looked a bit distressed as you took the paper off of the table and held it at the real skeleton.

“This. Is. Amazing!” You said, using self restraint to hold yourself from shaking the paper back and forth. The Ink drawing’s cheekbones grew darker, and the real Ink’s darkened (was that blush? Rainbow blush?) as well as his smile widened.

“Thanks, but it’s really all you. You drew it, I just got it moving.”

“Well, yeah. But you got it to move! That’s many levels of awesome.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Ink laughed and the rainbow glow dissipated from his eye. You looked at the drawing just as it slowed down and stopped moving, now sitting down with its pupils in your direction.

You put the paper down on the table and leaned against the surface. That was pretty cool. You tilted your head at Ink and half-smiled at him.
“So… Do you want anything to drink? Or something?” Now that the drawing thing was over, you were more nonchalant. As much as you could be with a monster in your home, albeit a friendly one. Hospitality was a must.

Ink declined your offer, but he did take a seat in your chair, tapping at a patch of black ink stained on his skull. You took the other seat and folded your fingers together, staring at them.

Awkward. Silence.

It was metaphorically killing you.

“Man, I don’t have an inkling of an idea of what to talk about.” The skeleton said, taking you out of your intense staring contest with your fingers.

“Uh…” You said, at a loss of words. You eyed him with a small smile creeping across your face. Puns. He was doing art puns.

“What a pen-culiar way to start a friendship, huh.” Ink continued, a bead of sweat forming on his skull. He was seeming to brace for impact, maybe in case you’d outright scream because of the puns, like an enormous number of people do for some reason.

“At least you’ve come pre-papered with ice breakers and drawn out puns.” You fired back, a full smile breaking out. Ink matched your smile, his eyes brightening at your counter pun.

“Well, you have a colourful array of puns, don’t you?”

“It’s a bit abstract, but I manage.”

“Are you being realistic? Pun making is an art.”

So Ink wasn’t going to back down. You felt a challenge wafting through the air, almost tangible as a smell. Of course, the competitive beast inside you reared its head, and it was on. You cleared your throat, shifting in your chair. You closed your eyes and assembled yourself. An easygoing smile was placed on your face, though when you opened your eyes, it was a different story. They flickered with a hidden fire, accepting the challenge.

“As steady as a brushstroke, bud. No still life here.” You tilted your head, spreading your hands on the table. Ink’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his smile grew.

Well, this was one way to know someone.

Chapter Text

Music filtered through the air, and you tapped your foot to the beat, folding a towel then placing it on your dining room table. Humming along to the song, you grabbed a shirt and folded that as well.

It was one of those days where you were feeling peaceful for whatever reason. You bobbed your head and forgot about folding for a second, pretending to play the main musical instrument while moving to the song.

It was nice. A good day was what you had needed, and you had gotten it. Maybe you'd read a book after you finished folding and putting your clothing away. Or maybe you'd bake, or take a walk. You could do pretty much anything; the day was open to possibilities, Saturday was a no college day, and no work to worry about either.

Maybe Ink'll visit You mused, changing tempo as the song morphed into a different one.

The skeleton monster you were thinking about was now your buddy, kind of. He visited often, though you two really didn't do much, and you didn’t even know much about each other either.

The guy really just hung out with you. When he appeared, the two of you would chat a little, which turned into a sit and draw-slash-read session. Or, if you were doing chores, he'd sit and draw as you did your chores, making idle chat together as you worked. Ink would pull out a small sketchbook and pencil, scratch along the paper, and create something that he would hand to you afterwards. It was usually pictures of scenery, like a snow covered tree or a river. You'd join him eventually too, taking your own paper and sitting beside him. The skeleton would give you tips on techniques or anatomy.

Your drawings were okay before, but with Ink's guidance they had improved significantly in detail and quality.

Your bedroom walls were slowly becoming covered in the drawings that you and Ink would create. It was good to look at all the elements of the drawings, almost like meditation. You sometimes tried to see if the drawings would move like that one time. It had been magical, and also impossible. But impossible didn’t really apply in your life now, considering the ‘impossible’ skeleton with his giant paintbrush and glitchy foe.

Yeah, it was weird.

Being acquaintances with a sentient skeleton who had mad drawing skills had never even come up in your imagination once. Nothing even close to that. In the back of your mind, this was surreal. ‘Why’ was a frequent question that you thought about regularly; but you pushed it to the side. It seemed rude, now that you had become something akin to friends.

Ink was mysterious. It intrigued you about how he acted; where he lived. He hadn’t talked about it to you yet, but you had a hunch that his life wasn’t short of exciting, along with tiring.

Well, you weren’t going to pry into it. If Ink wanted you to know then he’d tell you, simple as that.

You picked up the last piece of clothing, folded it, and sighed. You stretched, and heard a few pops in your back. That felt good.

You put the laundry away, happy to be done the last chore on your list.

“Now, what shall I do?” You tapped your chin, and then looked outside. The clouds had cleared some, allowing the sun to peek through every once in a while. It was one of the rare days in autumn where the sun shined and it was warmer than usual. A feeling sparked in your stomach, some old memories flashing through your mind. You smiled and went to grab your coat.

~

You wandered down a path of gray gravel, birds whistling and branches creaking overhead. You smiled at the greenery with your hands in the pockets of your jacket. The park was alive, brimming with the movement of forest animals and the sounds of kids playing; people talking.

Humming to the tune coming from your ear buds, you stopped and took a deep breath, savoring the smell of flowers and dewy grass, along with the scent of autumn. With a huff and a tug on your jacket, you continued on your walk.

You could still hear the crunch of gravel underfoot, so you didn’t mind the loudness of your music. Hopefully no one would bump into you; that was several levels of awkward that you did not want to deal with. It was the person who bumped into you who was at fault, but you would have to either accept their panicked apologies or mutter not nice words at the jerks who just kept walking.

It was funny. You had been spending so much time in your apartment, at work and at school, that it had been over two months since you had taken a stroll in the park. It wasn’t your fault really, since school was burdening as always, work was tiring, and you had a skeleton as a friend.

Yep, the last while had been hectic, so much so that you couldn’t enjoy the beauty of the outside. But here you were, enjoying the breeze and the solidarity of your person.

After circling the park trail, you took a seat on a wooden bench, facing the playground. There were kids running all around the structure, climbing on the monkey bars and sliding down the slide. They yelled and screamed, all smiles and having a great time playing with each other. You smiled at their energy and youth, remembering a time where you were that small. The world had been pretty simple back then; no taxes or responsibility, just play and fun.

You were so absorbed in watching the children romp around, that your music blocked out any other sounds. It certainly startled you when a person plopped down beside you on the bench and tugged on your sleeve. You jumped, and then looked at the person, eyes wide. It was a small child of ambiguous gender with short dark brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a blue and pink striped sweater. You took your earbuds out of your ears, tucking them into your pocket.

“Oh, hi there!” You said, giving the child a small smile. They grinned back and swung their legs back and forth on the bench, looking towards the other youths on the playground. You were perplexed at the actions of the child; they seemed content just sitting beside you and watching their peers, not actually interacting with the others. You had at first thought they were there to invite you to play with them or something, but after a few minutes you decided that wasn’t the case. They just idly swung their legs around, giving you companionship.

“So, kid, how are you?” You tried small talk, hoping that it wasn’t too awkward. Well, children usually didn’t notice awkwardness, so maybe you’d luck out.

The child turned back to you, acknowledging that you had asked them a question. They thought for a minute, eyebrows crinkling, then they picked up their hands and began signing words, concern on their face.

I’m doing pretty good, how about you?

They cringed when they finished signing, probably scared that you might get confused or angry.

“I’m doing pretty good myself.” You answered them. Their face brightened, and they began a flurry of signing.

“Hey, slow down! I can’t read that fast!” You laughed, waving your hands at them. Their smile was big as they slowed down their signing, allowing you to read it.

You can understand sign language?

“Yep, took a few classes a term ago. Haven’t been practicing, but most of it came back when you started signing.”

Man, the child was practically buzzing with happiness. You had a fleeting thought of the reason why the child sat down beside you, and why they weren’t playing with the other kids; none of the kids wanted to play with them because they didn’t speak. That was a little disheartening to think about.

So you talked to them. The kid was really smart for their age. They were nine years old, liked the color red, and loved pie. You told plagued them with puns when they offhandedly told one, and you spent the time laughing with them and throwing jokes back and forth. It was a good conversation, one that you rarely came across even in your classes.

The time really flew by, and all too soon they were telling you they had to go, before their mom got worried. It was getting a little dark; the sun was beginning to set in the horizon.

“Here, I’ll walk you to your mom, okay? Don’t want you getting lost.” You told them, getting off of the bench and stretching. They nodded and hoped off, grabbing your hand and directing you where their mom was. You just walked across the playground to the other side, but you felt better protecting the kid anyway. They certainly seemed to feel calmer with you there.

There was a woman sitting on another park bench, watching as you and the child walked toward her, a warm smile on her face. She stood up as you neared her, hands linking at the front of her jacket.

“Hello. Brisk evening, isn’t it?” She had very fair skin, and her blond hair almost appeared white. She didn’t look very old, but she had a motherly aura surrounding her, a presence that was calming.

“Yep, it sure is. Just helping my friend here with walking over. It’s getting pretty dark.” You let go of the child’s hand, and they took the few short steps to their mother, wrapping their arms around her waist. She chuckled and hugged them back.

“Thank you. My name is Toriel, what is yours?” She asked you. You told her your name, and very quickly a conversation began between you and her. She told you she was a school teacher where her kid went to school, and you told her about your pursuit in the subject you were most passionate about, what job you were hoping to leave college with. A few minutes passed, and then it was really time for you to part ways with the child. You remembered something at the last minute, and got the child’s attention.

“Hey, I didn’t get your name. Do you think you could tell me?” You said. They opened their mouth as they also realized that they had not told you their name.

My name is Frisk They signed. Frisk was an abnormal name. You had never heard of anyone called Frisk before. But the world was large, and it wasn’t your job to tell people what their name is, or whether their name was right or not. Heck, Toriel's name was unusual as well. Whatever, it was none of your business. They then tried signing your name.

“Yeah, that’s how it’s spelled. Cool!” You shared a smile with the child. Frisk then yawned and leaned against Toriel. The woman smiled, her gaze on her own child, and then looked back to you.

“Well, I’ve kept you for far too long, and I’m feeling a little sleepy myself. Walk safely; I hope to see you again soon. Goodbye.” The woman herded Frisk away, giving you a wave. You returned it, feeling warmth in your chest from meeting the two people. Toriel obviously loved Frisk, and it seemed to be the same with the child. Toriel was very beautiful. Smart, and nice, and kind as well.

You smiled wistfully, beginning your walk home.

~

“Hey Ink.” You greeted the skeleton as he popped in once again.

“Hello.” He said, watching as you took the kettle and poured yourself a steaming cup of hot chocolate. You caught his gaze and smiled.

“You want one too?” A fleeting thought of ‘How could he even drink it?’ passed through your head before you shoved it away.

“Uh, sure. Why not?” Ink said, rubbing his skull. You started in surprise. Ink had declined past invitations of food or drink, and you had thought it’d be the same this time. Your smile grew larger as you took another mug from the cupboard. You took a moment, pondering something. Go plain, or all out?

“Sit down and wait a minute. I’ll bring it to you.” You said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Ink complied, shooting you a confused glance before making his way to the coffee table, sitting himself down on the couch and taking out the sketchbook and pencil. You whirled back to the mug, formulating what to do.

You filled the kettle with more water and set it to boil. It wouldn’t take long, so you had to work fast. You opened the fridge and grabbed the whipped cream and milk; then opened a cupboard, and took out one of your stash bags of chocolate chips. The coco powder was already out, and you pulled out a new spoon.

You cracked your knuckles, then winced, then began.

Put the powder in the mug, two spoonfuls. Add about a third of milk. Mix. Wait for the water to boil. Take the kettle off and pour the water in. Mix. Put whipped cream on. Sprinkle a few chocolate chips on it. Put spoon in. Done.

In the span of four minutes, you had made a master piece. Satisfied, you grabbed your own hot chocolate along with Ink’s and carried it over. Ink’s eyesockets(?) widened as you put the supreme hot chocolate in front of him, sitting opposite and sipping your own.

“I may have gotten carried away. If you don’t like it, that’s okay.” You shrugged and gave him a lopsided grin. He gave you a dazed one and took the mug. You watched carefully as he raised it to his teeth.

Then he did something. You couldn’t exactly see what it was, but he lowered the hot chocolate, and some of it was gone. Some whipped cream was on his mouth, which he wiped off with the back of his hand.

“That’s pretty good hot chocolate.” He said, one eye changing to a dark blue circle and back to a star.

“Thanks. I try.” You hummed contently and continued to watch Ink, as both of you went into a comfortable silence.

Chapter Text

“Hey, do you want to do something?” You asked Ink, who was sitting in your chair, which faced the couch. His eyes rose from his sketchbook, the pencil in his hand halting its scratching.

Ink had once again popped in, this time while you were washing a few dishes in the sink. In all honesty, you found his habit of almost literally dropping in normal now. It was happening often enough that it didn’t bother you anymore. It was just another part of your day. Probably a highlight, in fact.

Though in the back of your mind, you were still concerned that instead of Ink, that other skeleton would appear. Error, the one who had almost taken your life. Your rational mind knew that was absurd; Ink had beaten him (or at the very least, chased him away), and he dropped by frequently enough to drop the probability of the black skeleton messing with you again to pretty much zero.

Still, that didn’t stop an involuntary shiver from trickling down your back every time Ink came over.

“Something? Aren’t we already doing something?” Ink asked.

“Well, yeah, but a different something.” You replied, finishing off on the last dish and draining the sink, rinsing your soapy hands off and drying them on a rag. You turned to face the skeleton and placed your hands on your hips, giving him a playful glare and smile.

Ink closed his sketchbook and put it away, along with the pencil. He sat up straighter, tilting his head.

“What something do you have in mind?”

“Well since you asked-“You dashed out of the room, only to reappear seconds later with a box in your hands and your face almost giving off its own light. The box was thin and square, made of some type of dark wood. Ink sat up more, the confused look on his face only growing deeper.

“What is that?” He asked with thinly veiled interest. It certainly looked like just a thick plank of wood to anyone who didn’t know what it was. But you knew.

With a clunk, you set the box on the coffee table and sat across from him, composing yourself before looking up at him with a somber expression.

“This box is very special.” You said, gesturing to the box. Ink looked down to the box then back at you, being pulled in by your suddenly serious aura.

“Some say it is imbued with the wisdom of many a person, and that its history stretches across centuries, when it was first made in ancient China, as a gift to an emperor.” You placed your hands on the box and gently lifted off the top. Ink leaned forward, now fully interested in what this something was.

“Chinese checkers!” You said, grinning from ear to ear. The inside of the box held a simple wood board, with a plastic bag holding the marbles sitting to the side. Ink became still for several seconds, his features becoming stone, as if he had turned into a statue. You waited for a reaction.

A bubble of laughter burst from Ink, as he bent over and wheezed. His booming laugh filled the room, and you laughed along as well. He had never let out any noise like that before, and it both surprised and pleased you. The build-up was perfectly executed, judging by how positively Ink reacted.

After his laughing fit died down, Ink was still overcome with silent giggles that shook his frame. He was leaning on one arm of the chair for support, wiping his eyesockets like tears were forming there.

“Oh my stars.” He breathed, covering his mouth with one hand, supporting his skull with the other.

“I actually didn’t think it was that funny.” You confessed. Ink waved your words away.

“It was the dramatics leading up to it that got me laughing.” He explained with his voice still soft and almost hiccup-like from aftershocks.

“Glad you liked it.”

“Oh, yes. That was great.”

“Do you want to play it?” You questioned, reaching to take the pieces out but waiting for his answer.

“I don’t really know how to play.”

“Oh that’s fine.” You said nonchalantly, waving away his words like he did before.

“It’s almost totally the same as regular checkers, there’s just the ability to play with six people. You’ll do fine.”

Ink frowned.

“I mean, I don’t know how to play checkers. At all. What even is checkers?”

~

After explaining the rules of the game to Ink, you played a few rounds with him. He did mess up every once in a while, forgetting rules and such, but he caught on quickly and soon you had lost a few games to him. The atmosphere was almost the same as when you had exchanged a pun war with the skeleton. Neither of you were backing down, and both of you had lazy grins on your faces, while behind it you were both giving it all you had.

It was a bit silly how competitive you were, since it was a simple game of checkers. But this was what friendship really felt like. To be able to compete with the person and still be friendly after, no matter who won or lost.

“Hey, how’s the wife and kids?” You said jokingly, moving one of your men closer to one of his, still too many spaces away to hop over.

“Ah, they’re doing well. Yours?” Ink asked, moving a different man over one of yours. You growled and hopped over one of his men, getting closer to the triangle before answering.

“Absolutely great.”

You both then lapsed into silence, focusing on the game. Ink was putting up some good strategy, but you had seen holes in it and had gotten farther than him. You occupied four spots in his triangle, while he only occupied two.

Currently, you were tied with Ink in games won. This game, though unspoken, was the tiebreaker. Whoever won this one was the winner here.

You needed to faze him somehow. Yep, you were going to play dirty. Competition really did bring out the worst in you.

But what to faze him with? Ink would appreciate puns, and he had many interesting ways to use wordplay in his favour. You had to think a bit before answering, so that was out. It had to be something that he needed to think hard about. Maybe quantum physics or why there were so many different kinds of pasta. Well, it had to be something. You wanted to win!

“Where do you go when you aren’t here?” You asked, moving a checker and waiting for his move. As you anticipated, Ink froze like a statue, with no movement whatsoever.

“Why do you want to know?” Ink’s voice sounded strained, and he sat back without moving a checker.

You hadn’t meant to go down this path. Well, you had meant to. But his reaction made you want to not continue.But here you were. A frown made its way across your face as the atmosphere went from competition tense to awkward tense. You sat back as well, hands clasped together.

“You don’t live here. In this place; this world. You do things somewhere else. While that is pretty far out in my understanding of the inner workings of the universe and all that jazz, it still can intrigue me. You aren’t human; you are some sort of, um, monster,” You flinched at how callous you sounded saying that word.

“Not in that sense. Just… ugh. You are a mystery, something different. Can’t you at least humor my curiosity and tell me one thing about your life? It could be your favourite food, for all I care. You know more about me than I do about you.” This was going nowhere. You were spinning in circles, trying to recover some sort of intelligence. Ink’s face had smoothed into a blank, unreadable expression as you had been talking. The only indication that he was listening was his stare, fixed on your eyes. His eyes brewed with thought, and silence descended as you shut yourself up and waited for him to voice his thoughts.

“Where I live is… complicated.” Ink finally said, his gaze now not drilling into your eyes, but rather somewhere above your hairline. He spoke slowly, as if talking about it was painful.

“Picture a still pond. Then, imagine lilies in the pond. The leaves and flowers are all interconnected, their roots tracing to a single point. I float just above and in the water, like a frog.  I travel to each lily, discovering new ones and meeting other frogs.

“Error is a trout. Or maybe a better metaphor would bird. He doesn’t care about the lilies or their beauty, and he certainly doesn’t care about the frogs. He cares about himself, about the pond being still and pristine, with nothing to distort the surface. He tries to destroy the lilies and tries to get rid of the frogs.” Ink closed his eyes, grimacing.

“I try to stop him. I search for his glitches, the traces he leaves behind. I have allies that help me, but he has allies too. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten as close as I did those months ago. This universe is special, and so unlike anything I’ve seen. It’s almost like…” Here Ink trailed off and opened his eyes; they were now focused on your chest. Specifically, where your SOUL had hovered that one time ago. Then he shook his head and chuckled.

“No, I’m being foolish.” He smiled and shrugged.

“Well, that wasn’t a good analogy at all. I’m guessing you are more confused now, huh?”

You put a hand up to your hair, running your fingers through it absentmindedly.

“No. Well, yes. Kind of. I mean, metaphor slash analogy stuff hasn’t always been my forte, but I get it. Mostly.” You sighed.

“Thanks, Ink. That was a lot more information than I even expected you to give me. Even if it was in quasi-riddle form. It looked like it was hard for you to tell me.” You said, nodding in affirmation at him. The skeleton put his hand on his neck and didn’t answer. You stood up and clapped your hands.

“Well, I guess we’ll call this my win. I am closer to winning than you.” You began to pick up the board, a hidden smile on your face. The board was then covered in a rainbow glow and put itself firmly back down on the coffee table. You raised your eyes to Ink challenging gaze.

“Who said this was over? I can still beat you.” He smiled, and you knew then that the delicate mood was gone.

After all, you two still had a game to finish.

Chapter Text

Blue strings. Blue strings everywhere.

You were running, weaving through the trees and undergrowth alike, as the strings dropped down from everywhere; the sky, the branches, everything above your head. They slithered like thin snakes toward you, and they stung like jellyfish when they hit bare skin. It was not a smart idea to be wearing a t-shirt and shorts.
Wheezing and gasping, snot running from your nose and tears from your eyes, you stumbled ever foreword, your cloudy vision obscuring obstacles, which slapped at your face, legs, and arms. You tried to plug your ears from the laughter that rang out from seemingly all directions.

Rocks littered the forest floor. You had evaded all that had aspired to trip you, but you failed to see the sharp shale protrusion until it had upset your balance and you had fallen. The ground cradled you like a baby, spongy moss softening your fall. You tried to get up again, but to no avail. Your legs refused to work.
The strings descended from the sky, nearing you, deaf to your cries. You were pleading for MERCY. Pleading for something to stop your painful death from nearing. The strings met your flesh, and the pain was paired with the sizzling of meat.

The strings were melting your flesh off.

You scrambled for a handhold, to drag your body away, but the same moss that had cradled you was trapping you, bringing you to immobility. Your panicked gaze met your legs. Under the haze of pain, you screamed.

You were becoming a skeleton.

Darkness met your eyes, along with the bitter cold of missing sheets. You were lying on your bed, as curled into yourself as humanly possible, with wet cheeks. A little gasp flew from your mouth as you sat up and leaped off your bed, arms raised up to protect yourself, stubbing your toe in the process.
Seconds later, you felt silly. There was no one there. It was just a nightmare. You huffed through your nose and flicked on the lights, blinding yourself from the sudden brightness.

“Gah!” A garble of sounds came from your mouth as purple and yellow stars exploded behind your eyelids, pounding with the heartbeat in your ears and the pain in your toe. A few more seconds later, arms holding each other in a tight embrace, you cracked open one eye, and then the other. There was a scared anticipation in opening them, thinking that someone would be standing in front of you.

You let out a long sigh, your heart continuing to beat fiercely. Fatigue was creeping back into your body, mixing badly with the cold air of your room. The changing of the temperature had finally arrived, and while you loved wearing sweaters and scarves, it was bloody annoying in the night.
You grabbed the blankets off of the floor (where they had lain, bundled into a mess) and heaped them on the bed. Crawling into the blanket heap, you made a cozy nest to rest in. The light was still on, but it wasn’t like you were going to turn it back off.
If someone were to describe your feelings, any word was an understatement if it wasn’t terrified, or at the least severely ruffled. You were shivering; mostly from the cold, but also from the fear that ran thickly through your veins.

This was a first. Well, not really. You had on and off nightmares, usually consisting of really scary things, like clowns and tennis balls and your student debt. But this was new. It was the first nightmare to reference Error at all. You had experienced none, not up until this point. It made you uncomfortable, unsafe. Even if Ink was there right then (which he wasn’t), you’d feel the same. You closed your eyes and tried to relax.

…

Nope. It just was not going to work. You couldn’t fall back asleep that easily. It might as well been like tackling a brick wall. With a grunt, you got out of your nest and headed to the bathroom.

When you got there, you took a minute to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was flyaway, your face was covered in wet and dried tears, your clothing was dishevelled, and you looked bad. Just, bad. More sounds of discontentment left your mouth as you dug around drawers, looking for your solution to sleep.

“Aha! Got’cha, you little bugger.” You held the bottle up proudly in the light. The sleeping pills were just what you needed. You hadn’t used them for a long time, and hopefully they hadn’t expired.

Your excitement dimmed as you held the bottle in your hands, reading the label as you had done countless times.

Time 4 sleep: Homeopathic medicine.

Indications: Homeopathic medication for the temporary relief of symptoms of simple nervous tension and occasional sleeplessness.

250 tablets

Directions: Adults and children 6 years and over: for nervous tension: Swallow with water or chew 1-3 tablets as needed 2 times daily.

For occasional sleeplessness: Swallow with water or chew 1-3 tablets ½-1 hour before retiring.

Those words were familiar to you; you had read them many times. Over and over, until you could recite them without prompt. But did you need them this time? You frowned and thought. Well, you would fall asleep eventually, hopefully. Your sleep schedule was balanced now, no need for them. You put the pill bottle back in the drawer and shut it, sighing.
You weren’t sure that you’d get back to sleep. But you were strong now. You didn’t need the medicine to bring you sleep. You could fall asleep yourself, without aid anymore.
You let out a laugh, just one soft bark. Tousling your hair into something more presentable, you wondered if there were any twenty-four hour coffee shops within walking distance. You could rest there, get a drink, and wait for the sun to rise. It was late enough that all of outside was dark. Though it could be six for all you knew. The days were getting shorter.

You turned.

And fell.

A black hole spawned under your feet, and a cry left your lips as it began pulling you in. You reached for anything to hang onto, but it all left your grasp. A sticky, tar-like substance lapped at your knees. Your waist. Your shoulders. It was quick, and soon your neck as submerged. Some of it got in your mouth and you sputtered at the taste. It was gross, like garbage. Your arms would not move. They had sunk into the tar and were immobile. You cried out as laughter, cruel and deep laughter, echoed from the tar. But soon you couldn’t hear it, for the tar had reached your ears. You couldn’t breathe. You were suffocating.

This was it.

You jolted up and hit your arm on the drawer. A fit of coughing came from your lungs as you breathed in air instead of the tar. You glanced around, and found yourself on the bathroom floor, unharmed, and with the tar out of sight.

You found yourself then on the counter top, pressed against the wall, one foot in the sink. Calm. Calm. You were calm. Peaceful and calm. Like a lake. Like an ocean, gently lapping at the shore. Breathe in and out. In and out.

Your racing heart slowed down slightly as the minutes passed. Your limbs became tired, but you kept your position and breathed. Calm.
Finally, you stepped down from the counter, setting your feet delicately on the floor, testing it for any give. You leaned on the door and steadied your head, for it was light, and shadows pulsed from the edges of your eyes. You were definitely awake now. You were not going back to sleep anymore. There was a twenty-four hour coffee place near your apartment. You could hang out there, get your caffeine fix, and wait out the day. Work super hard at your job and get a head start on the newly assigned projects from college. Yeah, you’ll do that. Sounds fun.

You stepped out the door, and fell.

The sky surrounded you, a forest below. Wind whipped around your body, flinging your hair up and tearing at your clothes. You were falling, falling from the sky to the forest below. Screaming, you flailed around for a parachute, or something. But there was nothing. You were falling to your death, as the sun rose in the sky.

“No no no no no this is a dream this is a dream.” You were rambling, your words ripped from your mouth as soon as they were spoken.

“Help!” You screeched to the world below.
“Help me! Please!” The ground was fast approaching, threatening you to a painful, splatter of flesh and broken bones. It didn’t matter if it was a dream; the fear was real. Closer and closer, and closer still, the ground rushed to meet you. A prayer passed through your lips as you shut your eyes, curled into yourself.

Instead of a splat, you felt a tingly sensation all over your body. It came with a dizzying sense of vertigo. Soon, but not soon enough, it stopped. And everything was still.
You opened your eyes to literally nothing. Just black. Not like night-time black, more like you were in a black room. You could see your body, unharmed, but you couldn’t see anything else. You rose from your fetal position, eyes wide and arms at your sides, hands clenched into fists.

“H-hey.” Your voice was soft, crackly. You swallowed and cleared your throat.
“Hey!” You barked into the room, scared but still standing your ground.

“Stop messing with me! It’s annoying!” Great, you couldn’t come up with anything to say. You sounded like a child, and your cheeks burned at the thought. You were a mature adult, not a child! These things shouldn’t scare you anymore.

Silence permeated the room. Not the normal silence, but a heavy one, one that lay on your skin like a tangible presence. You recoiled as something slithered just in the corner of your eye. You whirled around, but it had gone. It appeared in the corner again, and once more you turned around to face it. But it was already gone. Irritation buzzed in your abdomen, curving your mouth into a frown.

Yes, you were scared. But you would not let this... This thing keep terrifying you.

“Why don’t you stop hiding in the shadows and show me who you are.” Your voice was soft again, and your heart sped up once more, igniting pressure in your neck and ears. Your pulse pounded as the thing Moved closer. The black room, the surroundings, began changing ever so slightly. Violet outlined shadows writhed in front of a light red background, the colour of spilt blood. And the thing was known as it stood in front of you.

It was grotesque, several long appendages jutting out from its back, curling in the air. Long masses of black, with a silvery blue tinge to them. The tentacles lead down to a short figure. Oh god, it was another skeleton. This one was pitch black, with the same silvery blue tinge outlining key feature. Like a hoodie, shorts and slippers. The skeleton had only one eye as you could see the left one. It was the same blue, the iris encircling a black pupil, which was just staring, almost unfocused. The right side of its face had just a continuously moving ripple, like a liquid dripping. Its smile was wide, and menacing, and the only part of it that was white, beside its eyebrow. Paired with the eye and the whole body, it looked senseless.

You squinted, not at the skeleton, but just behind it. There were two things standing behind it. What were they? They were tall, taller than both the skeleton and you. Were they... Taller skeletons? Like bodyguards? That was peculiar.

The skeleton tilted its head, then moved its arms. You reacted on instinct, covering your chest and taking a step back, readying a defensive stance and glaring at the skeleton with a mixture of fear and distrust. Its eyebrow twitched upward, but all it did with its arms was move into a shrug. The taller skeletons moved slightly behind the shorter one, but did nothing else.

“Well? You asked me to stop hiding in the shadows and to show myself, why get all defensive on me? I haven’t even done anything.” It... He said, lowering his hands to his pockets.
“Yet.” He giggled then, and it brought about darker tones. Your fight or flight instincts revved up, and you turned and ran, desperate to get away from this crazed skeleton.
Quicker than you could have even anticipated, the tentacles shot out and wrapped around your midsection, knocking the breath out of you and leaving you struggling for air. The appendage dragged you back slowly, to where you had stood moments before. You were lifted into the air, eyes connecting with the skeleton, who was clicking its tongue (somehow).

“Really, you think you could have gotten away like that? You humans are so stupid.” His voice grew darker, lower, and crackled like a radio. You shivered as the air grew cold, and the air once again left your lungs as the skeleton began dripping. Black liquid dropped from his body, his appendages. His uniform smile stretched and broke, rounded teeth turning to sharp points, reaching from one cheekbone to the other.
“Welcome to my special Hell! Now, DIE.” He began laughing as the tentacle slowly crushed you. Your breaths turned short, shallow, and frantic. You wiggled fiercely, hoping to get enough room to get your arms out. It was no use. You close your eyes, letting go the last bit of air that you had managed to choke down. Your lungs screamed for air, but to no avail. You were done.

Then you heard a swish, a thunk, and a scream.

The tentacle released you, dropping you to the floor as it recoiled to its owner. You immediately began taking in air, watching the goings on with bewilderment.
The skeleton that had attacked you was struck by something. The screaming was from him, as he clutched at one of his tentacles. The appendage had some sort of spear or staff embedded in it, the thing that had saved you.

But who had thrown it?

Something or someone behind you had the stout skeleton hissing, and the two taller skeletons advanced to protect their charge.

What surprised you was the skipping.

Shoes tapped against the floor behind you, light and airy, while the person wearing them hummed a tune that was unfamiliar. Soon they stood in front of you, much like how the two skeletons that looked to be composed of midnight stood in front of the stout skeleton.
This person, your saviour, seemed to be composed of light instead. It was a skeleton as well.

A gold cape fluttered at his ankles, with gold boots adorning his feet. A gold band of some sort encircled his head. That was all you could see of this skeleton from behind.

“Brother! I won’t allow you to hurt this human!” The light skeleton spoke in a grandiloquent voice, booming with pride. Peeking around the light skeleton, you watched as the staff tore itself out of the appendage and flew back to the light skeletons outstretched hand.

“Interfering? Error’s gotta know. Why don’t I just take this human, bro? I won’t hurt them, promise.”

“You will not touch them!” The light skeleton spread his arms in a protective gesture, shielding you more.

The tall skeletons suddenly took galloping steps toward you, black bones summoned in their hands. Your skeleton, the light one, jumped off the floor and spun the staff around, bringing it down onto one of the tall skeletons, cleaving its skull open. It shattered into shadows, which slinked off to the side. The light skeleton handled the other one with the same speed, and then he turned to you.

The first thing you noticed about him was his smile. It was wide and warm, beaming with HOPE. His cheekbones held a gold dusting on them, and his pupils were gold stars. It captivated you.

The staff disappeared in a burst of light, and the skeleton picked you up off the ground. Just like that. Like you weighed no more than a stack of papers.
The dark skeleton said something, and you saw the tentacles thrown toward you.

“Close your eyes human!” The light skeleton told you. Without a second of hesitation, you close your eyes and turned into the skeleton. With a twirl and a swish of his cape, the light skeleton, filled with the dreams of the human and the HOPE that they would be safe and returned home, left the nightmarish place.
The dark skeleton screamed, tearing at his clothes and face, tentacles whipping around. He was mad. Enraged. He had been given a simple task, and he had failed. The screams were heard by your ears, small ripples of sound as you were whisked away on a trail of stars.

“Human. Human! Are you awake?” You groaned and tried to tunnel deeper into the blankets. You timidly opened your eyes and shut them again, blinded by the bright lights outside of your eyes.

“You are awake then! Human, are you okay?” Wait. That wasn’t Ink’s voice. That wasn’t anyone’s voice that you remembered.
You squeaked and tried to clamber away, eyes still shut tightly against the light. A pair of hands grabbed yours and held them tightly.

“Don’t hurt yourself human! You are safe!” You were spurred to open your eyes, and that you did.
You were met with a really happy looking skeleton, clothed in gold and blue. The memories of last night(?) pushed themselves to the front of your mind, and you shivered from residual terror. The skeleton’s smile dimmed, and he let go of one hand to pat your head.

“It’s okay now. You’re safe.” His voice was soft and low, spoken in a calming tone. You settled down and took in his attire.
Gold boots with teal clips. Light blue pants tucked into the boots, and a teal over coat with white sides and little gold cross buttons. A belt with a large buckle with the letters “DS” in black cursive lettering. Cyan cloth with little stars and moons covered round little blue spheres attached to the belt. He had gold fingerless gloves on his hands, and a round pink clip with a white star holding his gold cape on. A gold circlet adorned his skull, swirling at the center.
A gold, almost blush looking dusting on his cheekbones matched his golden pupils, which were stars.

“Who are you?” You whispered.

“I am Dream!” He proclaimed, smiling brightly at you. Gosh, he was cute. You felt happiness fill you just by being near him. You told Dream your name.

“Nice name, human!” Dream tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes, smiling. Yep, really cute.

“Dream, what happened?” You asked him, a dot of dread condensing in your stomach. Dream’s whole figure seemed to dim, like the light had died down. His smile curved downwards.

“My brother, Nightmare, had taken you to his pocket dimension, where he hides from us; the sacred tree, me, everyone. I just want to help him, Ink too, but he’s sided with Error. He was going to harm you, and I stopped him.” Dream had tears in his eyes. You wanted to hug his sadness away, but you waited for him to finish.
“I picked you up and used your HOPE to bring you home, and I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, so brother won’t try to get you again.” A yellow tear escaped from Dream’s eye and made a path down his face. You reached out and wiped it away.

“That sounds very sad that your brother has sided with the bad guy. I’m sorry that had to happen to you, that you have to fight your own brother.” You smiled.
“But thank you. Thank you for saving me. I don’t think I would have survived if it wasn’t for you.” Dream brightened at this, and he accepted your thanks with happy abandon. At least you took the guys mind off of the heaviness.

You got up and noticed that your pjs looked fine. Like, they should’ve shown some sort of wear and tear from the happenings, but they had not a scratch on them.
Now you wondered if it had all been mental. It had been a dream- a nightmare. One after the other. And the first two times, you had woken in your body. So that means that it had all been a nightmare. And it also meant that Dream had put you on the couch after saving your mental body.

Wow, he was strong.

There’s no way I’m going to classes or work today. You thought.
I’ll call in sick.

As you walked to the phone, Dream followed you. A thought came up that made you look towards the short skeleton. You should have picked up on it immediately.

“Dream, did you mention Ink?”

Chapter Text

“The viscosity of a fluid is a measure of its resistance to gradual deformation by sheer stress or tensile stress. For liquids, it corresponds to the concept of ‘thickness’. For example…” You listened attentively to the teacher as they spoke, jotting down notes all the while. This was midterms, and it was slowly dragging you down the path of anxiety.
You already knew this stuff, you had read your horribly overpriced textbooks a fair bit, and you had browsed the internet a little as well, but it paid to pay attention. With the tests approaching like a train going eighty miles an hour, you felt that listening would make the process feel less like dying, and more like hoisting yourself along a wall in the dark.

The tests had been taking their tools on you; yes, you didn’t let it show much at all, but the bags under your eyes had deepened and your easygoing smile was strained. You felt like shouting at people who wasted your time, and you also felt a little like death.

Welcome to college, I guess.

Thank goodness this was your last class. The afternoon had lasted forever, much to your displeasure. But there it was, the clock was on its last minute. Your professor finished up on their rambling and told the class to study and study hard, if they wanted a decent grade on the test.
You filed out with the rest of the people, who either walked quickly to meet up with friends, or shuffled zombie-like down the hallway. You weren’t going with the rest of the hoard though. While they walked to the exit, you walked deeper into your college.

It really was a pretty place. Old, made of stone, and with a rich history to boot. Everything on the inside had been, over the years, modernized. But it still held its feeling, which you enjoyed.

As you rounded the corner, you grinned and straightened your back, pace increasing slightly. His door was open, meaning he was here, and he could be talked to.
You slowed down and peered in, careful to be as quiet as possible, even if you were excited. He went into trances of deep thought while working, and had a history of exploding when interrupted. If the case was that he was in ‘the trance’, you’d leave him to his work. No need to spoil scientific endeavours with your presence.
But there he was, writing slowly in a notebook, calmly focused on his task. It was a good time after all to see him. Your smiled stretched for a second as your excitement expanded, before composing yourself and walking in, knocking twice on the door.

“Hey, Professor Gaster, your favourite student is here.”

The pen stopped moving and was set aside as the man looked up, a bigger smile replacing the small one he had on. He closed the notebook and scratched at his hair, signing with his one free hand.

Greetings.

Professor Gaster was mute, but not by choice. He had once talked, but that had been before the accident. A flame, just a spark, had burned his house to the ground when he was young, harming him and his lungs to such an extent that he could not speak for the rest of his life. The black haired man, stick thin with pale skin and scars criss-crossing his face, almost black pupils and a tall, intimidating posture, looked scary to most people. Freshman at the college were spoked by him; his physical appearance enough to bring uneasiness to those not yet used to it.

Gaster was a teacher. He had to be, in order to use the supplies from the college to forward his studies. Physics (Quantum mechanics to be exact) was his main class, with mandatory sign language classes on the side for those attending his lectures (it was also a voluntary class for people just wanting to learn sign language). That was where you had learned sign language; in Prof. Gaster’s classes. In fact, it was how you had met him at all. A simple glance at one of the many notice boards up around your high school, and a free evening brought you to his class in ASL, or American Sign Language. It had also lead to you applying for this college, which was a plus. You had no idea where to go before finding this place. It really was a miracle.

Professor Gaster was a quiet person. He preferred one-on-one talks or projects alone, and he wasn’t one for big crowds. It came with the job, really. Science wasn’t very socially inclined. It was data and numbers, alone at a desk for hours, pouring over equations and questions, looking for an answer.

“What’cha working on?” You said, leaning on the wall a respectful distance away from Gaster. He waved his hands around dismissively.

More formulas, more work, things of the same sort. Nothing new, unfortunately. He gazed questionably at you, forming more words.

How have you been? Your presence has been scarce for a while.

He was also observant. Your eyes flickered away from his and one hand rose up to scratch at the back of your head.
“It’s midterms, Professor. Gotta study for those, you know? And I’ve been working longer shifts at work. Never know when some extra cash’ll be needed

That was… Most of the truth. You had a hard time even conceptualizing telling anyone, much less Gaster, of the happenings surrounding your life. Ink, Error, existential crises of how the universe works and of how small you actually were at the end of the day. You know, normal stuff.

A frown broke out on Gaster’s face, telling you that he could see through your half-truth telling. You heaved a sigh and gave him the look. The, ‘I’m tired, and I don’t want to share more than I already have’ look. Gaster’s frown lightened, but his eyebrows were still drawn together, concern making small markings on his scarred face.

Alright then, I wont bother you on that. He signed. But don’t hide anything too stressing. It is not good on the subconscious and conscious mind, and it makes me worry.

“Hey, don’t worry, Dadster.” You snickered, un crossing your arms.
“I’m a good kid. Wont keep anything from ya that I can’t handle.”

A silent snort of unamusment came from Gaster. He motioned toward one of a few chairs scattered around the room.

Sit down you comedian. You’ve come just to say more than puns, haven’t you?

“Maybe?” You said, stretching out the ‘ay’ as you grabbed a chair and dragged it to the desk. Professor Gaster sat down in his chair respectively, eyebrows raised.

Hush, child. You’re breaking the quiet atmosphere I’ve been trying to create in this room. Speak with your hands; some here might begin to think you are crazy, talking to yourself in an empty room.

You saluted him.

Got’cha.

~

Talking with Professor Gaster was cool in many ways. He had insight and wisdom in a broad range of subjects, and he was willing to converse anything. Watching him sign and responding back was a bit slower than usual, since you hadn’t been doing it for a while. But familiar patterns eventually sped up your pace. Of course, the conversation couldn’t compare to verbal communication, but you could be patient with yourself around Gaster. He was calm and collected, and he had talked you through many things.

Prof. Gaster was something like a father figure to you. He was old enough to be your dad, and he acted like one to you as well. If you had a problem, he was there to give advice. If you were down, he’d pull you up in his own way. As far as you knew, he wasn’t much like that to his other students. It might’ve been because you had been intrigued by his sign language class and told him so. Or maybe it was because you looked past his physical appearance to the person underneath.

It might also have just been because you had a feeling that he would make a great dad, if he had someone to stay by his side and have children with him. He had that air about him.

Well, whatever it was, it didn’t matter much. The present was now, and the present was you and Gaster talking about the universe. Multiples universes, to be exact.

So, it is possible for alternate universes to exist? You signed, leaning forward in your chair.

It is more than possible. The way that the universe we live in, and how cause and effect works gives many hints to there being an alternate universe. Gaster then stopped, and straightened his labcoat before continuing.

For example; picture our timeline as a large river. We are traveling down it as we speak. Now, imagine a decision that you make, like getting up to go to the washroom. You haven’t right now, but what if you did? The main river stays, but a tributary opens up on the side of the river, giving us the alternate decision of you going to the washroom. That is a timeline, an alternate one. Ours is the main timeline, and smaller timelines are constantly being created and destroyed. The man then leaned closer to you, lights in his eyes.

But what if there were many decisions that were different? An alternate universe is where the decisions have deviated so much from the original universe that a whole new river is opened, flowing freely of its own accord.

There is possibly one where I am not a physicist, but a botanist. Or you are the teacher, and I am the student. It is a theory that many believe in, and a concept that many do not.

It’s called the Multiverse Theory, correct? You signed. Gaster tilted his head and smiled.

You knew about this already, didn’t you? The sheepish look you gave Professor Gaster confirmed it. Yes, you knew. You knew about it from what Ink had told you in the analogy of what he did slash where he went, when you had played checkers with the skeleton. You had also searched it up on the internet (when you had looked things up to study for your tests), but you wanted to know it from Gaster’s point of view.

Do you believe in this theory, Professor Gaster?

It took a minute for him to answer, in which his eyes glazed over and his hand did the tapping thing on his desk, signalling that he was thinking.
My field of work dabbles in this theory. He signed slowly.

If you ask me in a scientific way, as in one physicist to another, then yes. If you ask, as one human to the other as casual chat, I’d say yes and no.
You were about to ask another question, one that involved travelling between the universes, when you glanced at the clock.
Crap. You had to get to work in thirty minutes. That was inconvenient.

“Hey, sorry, but I have to go now. Work needs me in half an hour.” You said, standing up from your chair and swinging your bag onto your shoulder. Professor Gaster’s eyes crinkled and his brows furrowed, but he nodded and stood up as well.

And I also must go. There is s a teacher conference to be held in ten minutes time. You smiled and waited as Gaster manoeuvred around his desk. He was soon beside you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

If you are in a rut, or need some help, He signed with one hand.
Just tell me. I will try to aid you as much as I can.

“Okay.” You said, emotion swelling in your chest. Gaster gave you a smile filled with warmth before taking his hand off of your shoulder and allowing you to depart. You jogged down the hallway, giving him a wave as you left.

Chapter Text

“What on earth are you doing?” Ink said at the bottom of the tree, staring with a ‘Are you crazy?!’ look in his eyesockets.

“Nothing… Just living on the edge.” You replied, swaying slightly on the tree branch you had climbed to.

Ink snorted at your sentence, an amused smile playing out on his face.
“You’re stuck, aren’t you.” He didn’t even phrase it as a question.

“What! I am offended that you’d even suggest such a thing!” You laid a hand on your chest in mock hurt, your other hand on a branch at eye level to steady yourself.

“Alright then, climb down.”

…

“M-maybe I don’t want to!” You said, getting childish. You could feel your ears beginning to burn, signaling that a blush was approaching. You were stuck, but by all the Gods you weren’t about to tell Ink that.

The tree you were totally not stuck in was growing in a forest a few miles away from the main city, in the suburbs. To be frank, you just wanted to get out of the city for a time, to spend time with Ink out of your apartment, and a park wasn’t going to cut it. Too many people ready to scream at a skeleton interacting with a human in the middle of the park. So you had googled walking trails and found a few in the outskirts of the city, where it became streets of houses with breaks of forest in between.

How did you actually travel from the city to the walking trails with a magical skeleton in tow? Well, you had waited until Ink had arrived to ask him pretty pretty please could he use some magic and teleport you and him out to the trails? There were cool things to draw out in nature and you wanted to take a stroll with him. With a small amount of begging on your part, he had finally complied, wrapping your arms around his neck and keeping a firm grip on your waist as he teleported.

So, there you were, out on an adventure in the wild, walking side by side with Ink, enjoying the sweet smells and sights of late spring. The trail you two had been taking eventually opened up to a mostly clear field; while Ink stayed at the entrance to sketch a bush of very beautiful flowers, you had beelined to one of the larger trees in the clearing. It was a sort of soft-leaved thing – not pine. You had to think hard for a moment. What was it called again… Oh! A walnut tree!
There were many branches, thick enough to hold your body weight. So with a giggle, you began climbing. Soon you had gotten high up in the leaves, and peeking through them gave you the view that many wished they could have.

The forest lay out in front of you, grey rooftops peeking out over the trees. The landscape, with its bumps and dips, gave you depth to the once thought to be flat world. Off in the distance, amidst the cotton white clouds and the robin’s egg blue sky was the city, just a sort of blurry smear of manmade structures.

Oh, it was a perfect picture to draw! You didn’t have any drawing supplies but Ink did. You tried to climb down to tell him about it.

...

Yeah, no. You were too high up and didn’t have enough confidence in yourself or the tree, leading you to this moment in time; being as stubborn as a small child about your ability (or inability) to scale a tree.
The exchange of words was merely a show of pride. Ink knew you were stuck; you knew you were stuck. This was purely about your ego, and how far you would stretch to protect it.

“You need help getting down.” Ink said matter-of-factly. You scowled.

“No, I don’t!” Ink stared into your eyes, a distant browbone raised and a certain tilt to his head. It clearly relayed ‘Are you sure about that’.

“... Yes, I do. I need help.” You surrendered your pride with a dramatic sigh.
“There, are ya happy? Help me please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I will.” Ink’s eye flared into the familiar rainbow glow of his magic. He extended his hand toward you, and you felt the gentle touch of his magic. It tingled your skin with a feeling akin to a cold shiver, but warmer and much more pleasant. And then, with a slight tug, you were lifted off the branch and into the air.

As soon as you left the tree branch, you folded your legs and wrapped your arms around them, looking around as yoiu slowly floated to the ground.
It was slightly disorienting and dizzying to be carried by magic, but it was also fascinating. Though your SOUL was covered in a rainbow haze, you could see everything clear as day. You hadn’t entered a FIGHT, so your surroundings weren’t monochrome. One golden rule you had though was never look down at the ground. One time was enough to tell you that it was a bad idea.

Soon you were deposited gently into the waiting arms of Ink, landing in his firm and comforting embrace. Inks magic dissipated, from both your SOUL and his eye.

“My, it seems that an angel came down from the heavens to meet me.” Ink teased, hugging you close and chuckling.

“Aw, you softie.” You laughed with him, hitting your forehead against his lightly. The blush that had disappeared made a comeback, heating up your face. The sun beat down on the two of you, and you couldn’t be happier in this moment. You wanted to live in it forever.

Human and monster, existing in harmony. It was just like a fairy tale.

Chapter Text

Crap. Oh crap. He was here again. He was here again. You hated him. Hated him and feared him at the same time. He made you infuriated and terrified at the same time. And his stupid smile. It smoldered with fake sweetness, like that splenda stuff, with pride and delight at your fear. You hated it.

The fear was at the forefront all the time. The anger was more of a spark in darkness, in the suffocating terror.

“Leave me alone! Please.” You begged with tears choking your throat as you ambled aimlessly through the abandoned ruins of what was once an apartment complex. Not yours, but close to it. You couldn’t stop moving; that was a part of his sick game. Stop moving, and you were dead. He would separate your head from your neck and use your blood to make his precious art.

His chuckle met your ears, your faces suddenly almost touching. You swatted him away weakly, lungs struggling to continue to supply you with oxygen.

“Oh, tiring already? But midnight hasn’t even come yet! You were so fun the times before, why did you lose all your pep?” He taunted you with words, searching for the spunk that you had once possessed, hidden under a mellow exterior.

But it didn’t exist anymore. His games had taken their toll on your personality. He had played too rough with his toy; you were no longer the same.

Shy. Timid. Scared. Hurting. Some words to describe you, how you were now.

“…” You refrained from telling him the truth, refrained from speaking at all. You couldn’t tell him that you were changed, that it was no longer a part of you. That you had broken on the inside. If you did, you were sure that he’d kill you. Your ‘spunk’, as he had put it, was why he had not killed you. Why he was keeping you alive.

He gave you some space, hovering a foot away from you as you completed another one of the countless loops around the ruins of the building, whimpering as you did so. There were hours left, hours before you would be free, that the game would end.

Your legs complained, your lungs joining them. A symphony of pain from your whole body. But you couldn’t stop moving.

Why? Why me? I’m so tired. So tired of everything. Your brain, free to roam in the tedious repetition, brought back that memory. The beginning of your personal, private purgatory.

You don’t know what you did to deserve this.

~

Yes. Yes, this was perfect.

You twisted and turned in the mirror, looking your costume up and down for any rips or tears, for a seam to have popped loose or for some makeup to have been smudged. Thankfully, you saw none, and you marveled at what you had somehow accomplished alone.

That time of the year was upon everyone. The time where spooks were handed out left and right; pumpkin spice everything, sweaters and scarves, and most importantly- Halloween. That magical time of the year where people dressed as other people and threw giant parties, where candy was handed out free and creepy stuff was the thing.

You were going to a party in a nearby club, dressed as a skeleton. No, you weren’t going to consume alcohol (even if you were old enough to); you were just going to the place to dance and have fun. You were also planning to go to a haunted house and get spooked afterwards, before heading back home to watch a few horror movies and then go to bed. Halloween was a great holiday.

You were wearing skeleton print leggings and black shoes, with a long sleeved skeleton shirt and fingerless skeleton gloves. You had painted your face a pale bone white with black accents, checking and double checking along the way that you were anatomically correct on how a human skull looks. You weren’t a master at makeup, but you had done a decent job at least.

How original, going as a skeleton. Yeah, you had some other ideas, but your supplies and cash were limited. This was the best you could do on short notice. You had thought of dying your hair lighter or darker to somewhat match the costume, but you decided to just leave it alone.

No, you weren’t going as a naked skeleton! That would be ridiculous! You grabbed the first pair of shorts that your hands touched and slipped them on. They were black with reflective white stripes down the sides, and you had a faint recollection of buying them last New Years as incentive to be more athletic. Ha, yeah. You thought about donning a shirt over top of the skeleton one you were already wearing (It was cold out, and you were sure that skeletons did not go around ‘shirtless’). After some thought, a white tank top was added to your outfit.

With the final touch put on (An old, dark blue hoodie), you were out the door and into the night.

~

After getting past the bouncers (the two were totally an item, they dressed in matching guard costumes), you were glad to have thought of earplugs. The music was loud, really loud. Even with the earplugs in, the music was clear. You danced through the crowd expertly, barely grazing people’s bodies. This wasn’t your first rodeo.

You forgot your objective as a particular song came through the speakers. It was the remix, but you knew this song well. It was kind of ironic now, the costume you had dressed in.

Clearing a bit of space around you in the second you had, the dance started.

“Spooky scary skeletons!” The bass dropped, and just like that you were gone. The crowd, the music, the dancing, it became you. There was nothing but that; the smell of sweat and exhilaration. You were the lights, flickering in multiple colours overhead. You were the DJ, spinning the tracks and taking requests. You were the drunks and the sobers, the stumbling feet and the waving arms.

You only surfaced after many songs had passed, suddenly thirsty and disoriented. Also possibly a little shocked and anxious.

You danced by yourself, at home in your room, alone. With only a handful of public dances and many YouTube dances to songs under your belt, along with ones you had created yourself; it made you self conscious. But excitement burned away your anxiety. You had danced, and no one had laughed. They all, like you, were here to laugh and have a good time.

You were in costume; you were someone else. You could relax, be yourself. No one was judging you except yourself.

“Ay, bartender! Glass a’ water, please.” You shouted to the man behind the bar as you took off your hoodie. It had gotten sweltering when you had danced, and the layers suddenly were too much. He nodded in acknowledgement to you silently while shaking an alcoholic drink for some other person.

Now, his costume was cool. The bartender wore a red vest and an orange to white ombré dress shirt, with red pants. His hair was also a flaming orange, all curly and wavy. His look was subtle, but he seemed to be suggesting a being made of fire, or as close as you could get.

Well, he may have been going for that. It was kind of hard to discern colours with the lights flashing overhead. His hair was what you noticed the most. Was he Irish? Or did he dye it? His skin looked very pale, and many freckles dotted his face and arms that you could see.

The bartender slide your glass of water to you, earning some hoots from the already intoxicated costumers that were hanging around the bar. You picked up the glass and took a large gulp, watching the man serve more customers, his eyes reserved but sparkling, the wire frame glasses slipping slightly down his nose. The bartenders face was smooth and betrayed no emotion.

It’s probably real. You thought, putting the now half drained glass down. The ice clinked in the drink, bringing you out of your thoughts and alerting you to the fact that the music had stopped.

“Have a scary Halloween people. And have a playlist of spooky songs as well.” The DJ clicked something on his computer, and the song “Thriller” by Michal Jackson began to play as the crowd cheered, hands and drinks rising to the ceiling once again.

You drank the last of the water and took some ice in your mouth, slipping back into the crowd. You blended seamlessly, no trepidation in your step as the dance floor became yours again.

Eventually, you eased away from the club, the magic unfaltering but your body exhausting. The air was cool and crisp outside the club; silent as well. You took out your ear plugs and put them in your pocket, donning your hoodie once again as the cold autumn air flowed around you.

The streetlamps cast yellow and orange lighting across the sidewalk as you made your way downtown, the mumble of chatter from passerby accompanying your solitude. The phone in your hand was mapping your route, showing you where to go to get to the haunted house. It was a high school that was running it, and as far as you could remember, it was five dollars for entry, and a total time of seven minutes. It was sort of short, and it was probably a bit lack luster (because it was a student run event fundraising for some trip), but hey, you didn’t say you absolutely loved being scared. A haunted house from a theme park would be just a bit too scary. You’d save your cowering in a blanket for when you watched the horror movies currently waiting for you back at your apartment.

You glanced at your phone occasionally, to keep track of where you were going. The rest of your attention was on the people around you. Cautiousness on any day was good, but Halloween was a special day. People dressed in costumes covering their faces and decide that they are invincible to anything; the law or otherwise. They were, in reality, vincible. But that wouldn’t stop them. Halloween cast a spell that turned both ways. A night of fun; but a night of terror as well.

The streetlights soon became few and far between. There were fewer people too, and fewer cars as well. Everything dulled down, the sounds of the city replaced by the wind in the trees and the sound of your footsteps echoing down the sidewalk. Your head swung around, trying but failing to not look like a wide-eyed doe, vulnerable and defenceless. The tall, concrete and glass buildings were now wood and brick houses. You had passed from city into suburbia. The houses were dark, no light showing from them. It was strange, but not unheard of. Some neighborhoods just didn’t hand out treats because no children came. But some people would still have their lights on, right?

A large driveway came into view a few houses down. You kept your pace and slowly approached. It must be the school. But why couldn’t you hear anything?

“Wait...” You said aloud, slowing down and squinting at your phone. The GPS had been leading you to this school, but it wasn’t the right one! You clicked on the search bar, and lo and behold, you had clicked the school name below what you wanted. And the app said it was over ten kilometers away.

“Great.” You growled, severely put out. There was no way you were going to walk ten kilometers to get to a simple school-made haunted house. Yes, you were willing to walk two, maybe even five, kilometers. But you weren’t going to walk ten. Not on this cold night. You stood under a lamppost, grumbling under your breath as you typed in your address. You didn’t know where you were, so it was your only hop-

Then, right before your eyes, your phone died. The screen went dark and it died. Just like that. Leaving you stranded on an unfamiliar street in the darkened suburbs, alone and without either a way to contact someone or a way to get home.

Way to go phone.

“No!” You exclaimed loudly, slapping the side of your phone against your hand, like that was going to do anything. You stomped your foot and huffed, then you held your hands out in front of you and took a breath, letting it out and slumping your shoulders.

I’ll go back the way I came, and then hail a cab when I get back to people. You thought, lips puckered in anger. Another sigh, then you laughed. It was a tad nervous and a bit hysterical, but the reality of the situation dawned quickly, and you turned around.

A few steps behind you, looking like shadow just in front of a streetlamp, there was a person. Their head was bowed and they stood right in the middle of the sidewalk. You felt their eyes on you, burning like a match. You stared right back, unable to see any discerning features. Adrenaline began to flow through your system the longer you were in the staring contest with the person. Not once did they move in the minute, and not once did they speak. Neither did you, though. It seemed to be a sort of standoff. Who would break first? Who would move or speak?

Another minute passed.

The cold began seeping into your flesh. While walking, you were creating enough energy to be warm. But now, you were still, and the chill made itself known. You tried to hold it back, but no matter how you strained, it happened.

You shivered.

And it wasn’t a small shiver either. It was a full body shiver that wracked its way from your calves to your head, almost forcing your teeth to clack together. You spat out curses in your head as you tried to stop the shivers, but they just kept coming. A few seconds later, you reined them in, though the damage was done. You could feel it in the air, in your toes from the ground. The air was no longer frigid; it held tenseness laced with danger, a sort of challenge.

The shadow moved forward, and you had one thought as you froze for a moment. Everything was still.

Then the figure moved once again.

And then you ran. Your legs unfroze, your mind kicked into overdrive, and you performed a perfect 180 degree turn and took off, footsteps clicking against the pavement. Your breath became short huffs; your arms were in sync with your legs. You did a ninety degree turn and ran straight to the school, shadows cloaking you in darkness. Your eyes were not adjusted, and you tripped momentarily on the curb of the road. A strangled curse flew from your lips as you stumbled, barely avoiding a marriage with the ground. You tilted a little to the left as you ran, your lungs reacting to the anxiety and constricting. It left you gasping as you ran from one side of the school to the other, hoping to have gotten enough space between you and the person. The tree line rushed up to meet you, and you slowed down just as the ground changed from grass to dry, crunchy leaves. With a small whistle of air, you crouched down and shuffled into the trees, leaves crunching under your feet like boulders smashing into each other. More curses ran through your mind as you situated yourself behind a few trees, hiding yourself in just the way so you could see from where you had come from.

Your eyes had adjusted finally, allowing you to at least see lighter objects from darker ones, along with movement. There was nothing, only some branches swaying. No person, no shadows moving. Purple and yellow danced in your vision, and you blinked to get rid of it, your eyes protesting. They were dry, from both your partying and from the cold, dry air. You wanted to put your head in your hands, but anything made the leaves underneath your feet crackle.

You shouldn’t have ran like that. Staring stock still was bad enough, but now you made it seem like you were scared, and that was a bad move. Scared meant vulnerable, and vulnerable meant easy prey. Now you had no phone, and no way of contacting someone for help. Why did your phone die anyway? Didn’t you charge it to full before you went out? It couldn’t have used all of its battery just sitting in your pocket!

You wanted to groan, but you caught yourself. That could alert the person to your whereabouts. But you couldn’t see them? Maybe they had given up. You kept scanning the area, but after many minutes, there was still nothing. Were you safe?

“Aww, hiding from little ole me? How cute.” A voice whispered into your ear. You screamed and jumped up, diving straight through the trees into the clearing. Without a glance backwards, you ran. Your objective to run out of the school grounds to a public place, no matter how much distance.

But something forced itself at your ankles, and your speed times the sudden abrupt stop equated to you falling down and meeting the ground. Hard. It hurt a lot, and a whimper escaped from you. A evil sounding cackle erupted from behind you, and you flopped to your back just as the lights of the school blazed on, blinding you.

You hissed and shielded your eyes with one hand, feeling your injuries throb. The laughter continued as you covered your eyes, leaving you blind and helpless. When you could bear the light, the laughter had stopped. But a menacing presence was right in front of you. With some bravery summoned from some point below your solar plexus, you uncovered your eyes, and couldn’t help but speak.

“Ink?” You said with an edge of exasperation. It was Ink, the skeleton you had met a few months ago. Your friend. But he looked different. He looked... Scary.

His left eye socket, instead of a gold star, held a glowing blood red diamond. His skull seemed to be smoking, with a black aura wafting from one side. His clothes... They were drenched in red. His tan scarf was tattered and smeared with black and red. It wrapped like a snake all around his body. Ink’s belt, once filled with rainbow colours, were now stocked with vials filled with red, and sharply pointed pencils and pens, all of which seemed to have red on them as well. His paintbrush was broken, large cracks running down the base. Two large pens were strapped to his back as well, and they were also covered in red. His hands hung limp on his sides, stained in red.

What really terrified you, much more than the red substance that decorated his attire, was his smile. It was deranged; demonic. It twisted across his face, wide and certainly not friendly, showcasing razor sharp teeth. A trail of the red substance went from the side of his mouth to the bottom of his chin. With widening eyes and a quickening heart, you realized what the red was.

It was blood.

Human blood.

“Wow, you went as white as a sheet! Heh~” Ink said, his voice gravelly and jumpy. It was a huge change from the friendly, almost cheerful voice you knew he had. He was out of his mind, turned tipsy. There was no MERCY in his eyes, or in his tone.

“Such a scaredy cat human, arnt’cha!” He giggled, raising one of his hands and placing it just in front of his mouth, like he was holding back more maniacal laughter. You swallowed bile down and spoke with a waiver.

“Ink... What happened? Are you okay?” You spoke softly, searching for any of his old personality.

“Why, of course I’m okay, dearie!” He said back, shifting from side to side.

“I am who I really am, is all~”

Your mouth gaped open, and you promptly closed it.

“But, you’re calm and artistic and colourful and...” Your fingers clenched the dirt.

“Not like this.”

Ink’s smile stretched even wider, if that was possible.

“I am artistic, dearie! Here, I’ll show you~” His diamond eye flared a dark red, and you suddenly rose up off the ground. You, unaccustomed to any sort of flying out of sitting in an airplane, let out a short yell that was silenced by Ink’s magic. It pressed against your windpipe and allowed no sound to pass through, and barely allowed you to breathe as well. It was disorienting, being held up by nothing solid or see able, and you felt nauseous.

When you were deemed high enough off of the ground, you stopped ascending and floated several meters off of the ground. Ink nodded and tilted his head, giving you a wave. Then, you watched as he took a vial from off his belt and tipped it onto the ground with one hand, and unsheathe his broken paintbrush at the same time with the other.

He then put the brush to the ground and swiped it sideways. With growing horror, you couldn’t pull your eyes away as Ink, or whatever creature he had turned into, float a few inches off of the ground and paint a picture of a bleeding sunset with blood. You wanted to escape. To turn away and run, to never look back and forget what was happening. But you were forced to watch, staring at his smile, while Ink laughed gleefully, ecstatic. There was so much blood, it seemed endless. It was much more than what the tiny vial could ever possibly hold. It must’ve been magicked to hold that much blood. Or maybe it was his paintbrush. It didn’t matter in any way, shape, or form of how it was a seemingly endless supply of blood. It just was.

Ink’s clothes and bones had fresh blood splatter when he had finished, and the smell of iron wafted up to your nose. You gagged, and held your mouth with one hand.

He sheathed his paintbrush, uncaring of the blood still dripping from it, and floated his person up to yours.

“See! Isn’t it beautiful?” Ink exclaimed, thrusting his arm out to the beautiful, yet disgusting, display he had created.

“But- Where are all the colours? And why is it…” Your sentence petered off, trailing into silence. Ink’s browbones drew together, and then he laughed again and floated closer.

“Made of blood?” He said, finishing your question. You nodded, legs pulled into your chest.

“Why, because it is such a beautiful liquid! Such a vibrant candy red, changing to vermillion and then black as it darkens…” Ink pulled you closer with his magic, ending the distance between your bodies. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into him. You squeaked and tried to struggle away, and his grip tightened in response.

“Shush, dearie. You wouldn’t want me to drop you; it is such a long fall…” He whispered, wrapping one arm around your waist as the other angled your head to the side and traced your neck.

He chuckled as you shivered.

“You are filled with so much blood, did you know that? About one and a half gallons, eight pints, or five point five liters. It makes up seven percent of your overall weight too. Some creatures on earth have blue, green, even violet blood! And,” Ink poked the vein in your neck, and you shut your eyes as nausea washed over you again.

“If you lose more than forty percent, or four pints, of your blood, you’ll need a transfusion, or you’ll die~”

“Well!?” You spat, surprising Ink.

“Well what?” He said, looking confused. You craned your head around and glared at him, angry and scared tears in your eyes.

“You aren’t here to just teach me facts about blood, are you? You want to drain my blood like whomever else you murdered. Stop prolonging the act and just do it then!” You yelled, your body beginning to shake, the tears spilling from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. You didn’t want to die, especially not like this.

Ink’s smile, which had disappeared, returned with full force. His eyes became hooded, and his mouth opened slightly, showcasing the two long incisors that dragged longer than the others. Laughter erupted from him once more, long and drawn out, sounding highly amused.

“Oh dearie, I won’t kill you just like that!” He said, patting the top of your head like you were an upset child. His words put a cold feeling in your ribs.

“You were such a good friend, and you have so much spunk! Not like anyone else I’ve come across. You, my dear, are so fascinating, like a new toy all for me!” He hugged you tightly, like you were a toy.

“But I am a human being! I have thoughts and emotions, therefore I am not a toy. And I am certainly not yours.” You squirmed in his grasp again, but you were trapped. Trapped by his magic and his arms.

“Oh, you aren’t understanding! You silly goose...” The diamond in his eye grew smaller, and an edge entered his tone.

“You don’t have a choice~”

Chapter Text

A comfortable chair. A fuzzy sweater. A good book. A mug of steaming liquid. A free afternoon. It was the perfect setting. The definition of relaxation.

Too bad that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“Hello! What would you like to order?” You were at your job, earning your paycheck with thinning patience. Yep, you were one of the front end staff at a fast food restaurant. Depressing, but it was the only available option right now, and it made money.

You feigned a relaxed expression, hiding the frustration and angry tears on the inside. And the terror. Your grin twitched slightly as the person you were serving asked for a special limited time item, which had gone a week ago.

“I am so sorry, but that is not available any more. Is there anything else you wanted to order?” You asked with a pretty convincing apologetic tone. It barely concealed the ‘Wake Me Up Inside’ look that was coming from your eyes.

There were simply no other work opportunities, and boy were you looking for some. Front end work wasn’t the hard part; that was pretty easy in itself. It was dealing with the many, many people interacting with you, them being either customer or co-worker.

Most people were polite in ordering, but there were a few hecklers who made an otherwise decent day pretty bad. Your co-workers weren’t bad people; they just had different priorities not related to working. As in they didn’t really do their job well. Work was something to do proactively, and to be honest with. You wanted to lose it, but instead you kept a level head in the workspace and screamed into your pillow when you got back home. You yourself did slack off regularly, but these people made you look like a great worker.

Nerves grating against each other, you stole a glance at the time, and then grimaced. You groaned inwardly as you saw that there was still forty minutes left in your shift.
It could not end fast enough.

~

Though eventually, it did. You rushed out of your uniform and into your normal clothes in the bathroom, sighing as your casual clothing felt much better than the uniform. You stuffed your uniform into the bag that had previously held your clothing and burst out of the establishment into the parking lot.

You took a large breath of the air outside. You could still smell the lingering stench of grease. Also, people were staring at you, like they had never seen a person desperately trying to escape from a fast food place.

You grinned at all of them and gave them a two-fingered salute, before beginning your walk to the bus stop. While walking, you stuck your hand in your pocket to feel for your bus pass. It was still there, thank goodness.

Let’s see… Got to do the dishes, dust, make myself a dinner, and do the assignments that are getting close to the due date. Ugh. You cringed inwardly and a little externally as well. That was a lot of work for the evening. You really were in no position to complain, though you could and you did. The stacks of assignments piling up were mainly caused by your buddy, Ink.

He was the real MVP. He should have a room in your apartment or something. Ink was good company, keeping you from feeling lonely, unlike your other friends.

Your, like, two other friends.

You finally made it to the bus stop, and thankfully no one else was there. That meant you didn’t need to put your ear buds in your ears and act like you were busy so no one would talk to you, and therefore making you almost miss that the bus was there and ready to leave without you. Not like that had happened a few times or anything.
To busy yourself, you searched your pockets for any stray mints. Buses were nerve-wracking, but with no car and little money to afford a car, it was walking or the bus.

And you were not walking ten kilometers to get to work.

~

Staring at the clock was never so aggravating. Well, it was less ‘staring’ and more ‘try to think of any other chores or things to do’ while you paced around the kitchen, chin in hand, arms crossed, and brows furrowed.

You had been expecting Ink to appear a while ago, but he didn’t show. The skeleton usually showed up around the same time, being pretty punctual (to an extent).

But he wasn’t there.

It spurred you to think after wondering had failed you. Something must have come up to stop or stall your friend’s arrival; but what?

You halted your pacing and looked out the window. Snowflakes flashed in and out of sight as the wind made them lashed at the window, the outside world nothing more than darkness. A snowstorm. Maybe college will be closed tomorrow, and maybe work’ll be closed too.

Back to the thought at hand; what was the matter? Well, Ink was a skeleton with magic at his fingertips and a giant paintbrush-scarf-ensemble. Maybe then, if he was magical, there were other magical beings of whom he could be tussling with. Error, for example. Or maybe Ink was sick (Though you couldn’t conceptualize Ink getting sick. Could skeletons even get sick? Maybe magical ones).

You suddenly had a thought that hit you so hard you had to sit down. It had lurked on the edges of your mind, waiting for any slip of belief.

“What if Ink isn’t real?” You said to yourself out loud.
“What if none of this had been real?”

College had been bearing down with tests, the workload being ten times harder than high school's ever was. Maybe the stress had you fabricating everything. From that night a few months ago to now, right now. And then, possibly, it had just stopped.

But then how could you explain the… You couldn’t think of anything for a moment, and that made you panicked. But then it came to you. How could it not be real if there were the drawings on the walls of your bedroom?

You jumped up and went to your room at a brisk pace. Your stomach clenched as you thought of the possibility that the drawings wouldn’t be there at all. But your stomach relaxed as you opened your door and saw the random assortment of drawings taped to your walls.

With a small hop, you stepped onto your bed, leaning closer to the drawings. Some were done in your style, which you could see right away, and some were not. Some were definitely different, in the detail and execution. They were Ink’s, they had to be. You saw him do most right in front of you! Ink had to be real then, right?

You probably had some mental issues in need of sorting out. But the drawings were there, and your questioning on whether the experiences you had were real was debunked.
You touched one of Ink’s drawings and sighed. A sudden hollow feeling opened up in your stomach. It was a deep, unknown sadness. You didn’t know why it did come up right then, but it was melancholy, and it had hit you without warning.

Just as quickly, alertness sliced through you.

Duck.

You slammed down onto your mattress just as something sunk deep into your wall, where your body had been just a second ago, with a deep ‘thunk’.

“HUh, y0U d0dg3d thAt.”
The voice. That low glitching voice. It was Error. He was back, and Ink was a no show.

Without pausing, without even glancing at Error or the damage he did to your wall, without even thinking, You rolled off your bed and hit the ground running, bolting out of your bedroom to the rest of your apartment.

You FLEEd. Running with a fleet-footedness you knew you possessed but had never been used. Your speed, minus running and divided by socks had you crashing into the wall; not a pleasant experience.

The few seconds of dazed thought gave Error more than enough time to amble over to your taller, but less intimidating form. He took his sweet time, footsteps heavy on the floor as the storm raged outside. His hands in his pockets and a terrifyingly smug smile adorning his face, he simply observed as you cradled your arm and leaned against the wall, eyes wide and glaring with indignation at the black skeleton.

“W3 m33t AgAIn, mIstAk3. I’ll sAy, y0U Ar3 d3fInIt3ly s0m3thIn’ 3ls3. B3Ing thAt Al3rt And d0dgIng my AttAck, It’s Alm0st lIk3 Inky’s b33n t3AchIng yA.” Error cocked his head to the side, his eyes focusing below your neck. You pressed yourself firmly against the wall and hissed at him as the skeleton raised his hand. You felt a tugging sensation and numbness trickled through your body, watching as the world drained of its colour, into the black and white landscape.

Your SOUL, the blob, had been taken from you once again. You gritted your teeth as it was pulled farther away from your body. Soon your soul rested halfway between you and Error. It was not a blob, as you had previously thought. Your SOUL was actually in the shape of a valentine heart, a faint glow surrounding it.

Error’s focus was now on the heart. He squinted at it, a faraway calculating look on his face. You eased off the wall and regarded him warily, watching as his expression shifted when something clicked in his head. It was a look of revelation; the answer to a question that had been difficult.

Error began to laugh. Loud, deep laughs bent him over as his body shook. His arms were wrapped around his ribs, laughing whatever kind of lungs he had out. Error wheezed and cackled; his body glitching wildly.

Fear had slinked its way into you, and it was in your gaze as his laughs slowed and quieted into giggles. He bent back up with his hands rubbing under his eyesockets. In a sudden movement, while still giggling, one of Error’s arms shot out and summoned the neon blue strings. They formed quickly, dropping onto your soul and wrapping around it before you could even twitch a muscle.

This time, as they draped around your SOUL, effectively immobilizing it, the feeling was different.
Instead of a burning, which you had braced yourself for, it was sticky. The threads were light, but it felt like the strands of wet water reeds were stringed onto your body. It was cold and disgusting, and it sent shivers up your spine.

“ThAt’s why Ink wAs s0 Int3r3st3d In y0U, vIsItIng thIs InAn3 UnIv3rs3 s0 0ft3n! HA, I sh0Uld’v3 th0Ught 0f It s00n3r.” Error indulged in the emotions your SOUL was emanating with. Fear, confusion, anger, anxiety, the beautiful mix of negatives. And that wavelength coming from it was unmistakable; he had thought of something along those lines, and Nightmare had been sent to see. Unfortunatly, some meddling from Ink's forces had kept that secret unknown; but it was clearer now.

Error finally calmed down and stopped laughing, concentrating once again on your SOUL.

You, meanwhile, were screaming for help in your mind. Voice gone once again, that was all you could do; physical movement was restricted by the strings. Over and over you called out, hoping for an answer. All there was in response was silence. You could sense a glimmer of something, possibly Ink. But it was so slim, so far away. Too far away to save you.

Panic was lacing itself around your thoughts, brewing the slurry of negative emotions into a swirl of chaos. Your heart raced, choking you.

You wished you could move. If Ink couldn’t save you, than it was up to yourself. But you were trapped by the strings; helpless.

You tried to move. Nothing happened.

You tried again. But nothing happened.

The quickness of your short breaths made your head spin. You needed to calm down. Rational thought was being overrun with the panic, and you needed to regain control. You took a grounding intake of air and focused your mind. The whirlwind died down slightly, enough to formulate some sort of tactic.

Now, talk!

“What do you call a bull that’s sleeping?” You asked Error, voicing the first thing that flashed across your mind. Anything to stall, to give you and that faint glimmer of hope to become larger.

Error’s eyebrows (eyebrows? No, you couldn’t dwell on confusing anatomy right now) rose. His smile shrunk slightly, confusion now dancing across his face.
“WhAt, A j0k3? Y0U’r3 j0kIng, 3v3n n0w? H3h, h0w pr3dIctAbl3. HUm0r m3 th3n, mIstAk3. WhAt do y0U cAll A bUll thAt's sl33pIng?” Error waited for your response. You swallowed several times, your throat grating against itself, sweat beading on your forehead.

“A bulldozer.” You burst out laughing, in a nervous sort of way. Error seemed unimpressed. He shook his head in mock disappointment, his smile large once more. You realized that your time was up a second too late, as Error raised his hand once more, wiggling his fingers, manipulating the strings on them.

That burning. That nerve slicing burning. A shrill scream crept from your lungs as you thrashed in agony. It was like a hot pan was set all over your body, the heat growing to an unbearable point.

Tears trickled down your face as you felt yourself grow weaker. This was it. You were going to die. You were going to burn to cinders and you’ll be forgotten and that would be it.

You tired to call for help again. But you couldn’t.

Error was hurting you slowly. He was enjoying this, enjoying your suffering. He got a kick out of your pain.

Anger, akin to the burning of your body, blossomed deep in your SOUL. The feeling made it glow brightly (even under its confines) and your ears rang. This couldn’t be it. You wouldn’t let this be it.

It was easier to give up, you knew that. To surrender to your fate, to the burning, the destruction of your body.

But you refused.

Your SOUL grew brighter and brighter, the only colour in the monochrome battlefield you had been forced into.

The anger ran through your veins, somehow easing the pain away slightly, bringing a clearer thought process along with it. You used the strength to call out one more time.

There was an answer.

You lifted your head, which had previously fallen limp, lifting it to make direct eye contact with your opponent, with Error. He now looked confused.

You cracked a cheeky smile.

“You’re gonna have a bad time.”

Error was knocked sideways as Ink slammed into him, the rip in space closing itself as the skeletons tumbled to the ground.

The strings snapped; their connection to Error cut. They disappeared within a second, leaving your Soul a little worse for wear but not broken. You ran and grabbed your SOUL, holding it close to your chest. You hesitated, unsure of how exactly to… put it back in yourself. You narrowly avoided a flying chair, one of your chairs, as it flew towards the tussling enemies, suspended in a rainbow glow. Bolting to the kitchen part of your living room-dining room, you winced at the crash of the chair as you tugged a kitchen knife out of its sheath in the butchers block. The air had a strange quality to it now; as if it had been infused with something heavy and almost fruity. It must have been magic.
Snarls attracted your attention and startled you out of your stupid reverie. Ink and Error were full out punching each other, their eyes glowing and their fists covered in their magic; Ink’s in a rainbow and Errors with blue strings wrapped around his fingers like padding. Their teeth were bared in feral smiles as they over turned and plowed through your furniture, the air crackling with energy.

Well, this was a ridiculous looking circumstance.

Still holding your SOUL close, you inched forward, looking for an opening in their FIGHT. You weren’t totally in on the idea of hurting someone, even if it was a malevolent skeleton, but you couldn’t not do something! The knife was held tightly in your dominant hand, you’re lesser holding your precious SOUL to your chest. You bit your lip as Error whacked Ink near the eye, dazing him. The feral smile on Error’s face grew triumphant as he reached one hand up to finish it.

You lunged at that moment. Dropping the knife, letting clatter on the floor, you shoved into the black skeleton, yelling at him to get off your friend.

You plowed into Error, throwing him off of Ink. His form suddenly disappeared from your grasp, leaving you as the sole person hurdling toward the wall. You slammed into the wall and heard a crack. Brilliant pain, ten times as bad as Errors burning and red in colour behind your eyes, flared in your leg. You became paralyzed, blackness in your vision. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think. You were trying your hardest to be nothing, to not exist. But the pain was there. You weren’t anything. You were existing. And it hurt like living on the sun.

There was shouting, there were flashes of brilliant light and more sounds of objects hitting things, and you were still there. Hoping that you wouldn’t get hit by anything, and hoping that Ink wouldn’t get hurt.

Raw emotions, unchecked, ran through you. Sadness. Melancholy. Anger. Hate. Fear. And pain. So much pain.
Please... You whispered feebly in your mind.

Please get me out of here.

And you rolled over, straight into a bright light and a swirl of stars.

And you were gone.

Chapter Text

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no.

Ink fettered around the room, hoping to the stars that the human was safe. Hoping that they were just in their room, or hiding in a safe location. His fight with Error had been the first real one in a long time. It had been more than a chase. It had been a standoff. And he had gotten so caught up in it that he had only noticed the human’s absence when Error had FLEEd. They had pushed Error off of Ink, and slammed into the wall... And that was the rest of Ink’s memory of the human. Everything after that was just magic and adrenaline. He wanted the human to be here, in their home, safe. But Ink knew deep down that the human was gone. Not just missing from their place, but from this universe. And even though he was a chill guy most of the time, that scared him. He should have never interacted more than that one time with the human, that he should have left this universe alone to go about its natural rhythm, and to only check on it every once in a while to keep Error away, to make sure that the universe was running smoothly. He did that with all of the other universes… Mostly.

But he found a kinship with the human. More than in most of the monsters and humans he had interacted with (besides the Sans' of the other universes). They liked puns and were curious about him and listened to him. The human didn’t ask much of him at all. They drew with him and gave him a place to rest, even gave him food and played games with him. They had been kind. He had felt something in them, and well...

It must be true.

There wasn’t really any other way to explain what had happened. Sure, he had maybe thought of asking them if they had wanted to join him, but he had brushed that thought far, far away. Humans were delicate, fragile beings. They had no way to use the magic they had, and they were susceptible to death easily. Their SOULs were powerful, but they couldn’t unlock the potential. At least, not anymore in some universes.

Ink checked all the rooms once again, looking in crevices for the human’s SOUL, hoping that they were still here. And once again, like every other time, they were simply not there. Like a puff of dust (shudder), they were gone.

Ink mentally returned to the worse-for-wear-but-not-totally-destroyed living room, where Dream and Blueberry sat on the floor alongside him, watching with concern.

“I think the human disappeared into the Multiverse.” Ink said, voicing his fears. Dream gasped, and Blueberry jumped up.

“Then I, the magnificent Sans, must save them!” Blueberry’s cape fluttered behind him heroically while he struck a pose. Usually Ink would chuckle at Blue’s antics, but this was too sobering of an incident for him to laugh. Though it was admirable how Blue was ready for a search party, for someone that he hadn’t even met.

“We three have to look for them.” Ink said with quiet passion, feeling warmth brew in his ribcage. He then suddenly bent over and spewed black ink from his mouth. Wiping his skull, he cleaned up the ink with his paintbrush and looked back to his comrades, a bit embarrassed. He had gotten a little too scared and excited. More like anticipation, actually. But Blueberry and Dream were looking back with determination in their eyes, ready to help.

“I don’t know why, but Error has a big grudge against them, meaning they are vulnerable while lost. And since they are from a universe, and they are like we once were, alone and in danger, it is our duty as the Star Sanses to find them and return them here, to safety.” Blueberry puffed out his chest at ‘duty’, and Dream began to almost emit his own light. That finally brought a smile to Ink’s face.

Ink withdrew his hand from his pocket and held it out. Dream and Blueberry held theirs out as well. They used a bit of their magic each to make three separate stars; one fading through the colours of the rainbow, one as gold as a coin, and one as blue as the sky

“We are the Star Sanses!” They all said in unison.
“We’ll always save the day! And if you think we can’t, we’ll always find a way!”

“That’s why every universe believes in…”
“Ink.”

“Blueberry!”

“Dream!”

The stars then faded away, leaving all three of them glowing. Frisk wasn’t there, but they had school and their family to worry about. The child didn’t need to be burdened with more worry, or a missing person. Ink unsheathed his paintbrush and opened a portal. They all went through, to look for the human who was more than they appeared to be.

Ink felt like he was forgetting something. But whatever it was could be remembered later.

~

It was cold.

Like, not exactly brisk, but not lukewarm, if that made sense. Cold enough to bite at your toes and fingers. The ground was cold. You were cold. There was no outside warmth; all of it came from your body, which was sucked away by the cold.

Ugh, did I wind up on the floor again? You thought, eyes moving behind your eyelids. Gosh, you were freezing. It was time to start the day, to go to work and classes and count the hours and minutes and seconds until you could return to your home. You sighed, resigned to your normal duty, even if you were super tired. More tired than usual sleeping tired. Ugh, whatever, you’d get a coffee or something and continue the dragging existence you live called life. A cold breeze played against your body, and you shivered. You must’ve left the window open again.

Welp, time to start the day.

You opened your eyes.

And stared.

Either you were crazy...

Or...

you had sleepwalked.

To a forest.

And fallen asleep.

...

“What the heck?” You said out loud. You giggled after that, the absurdity getting to you. Feeling the ground underneath you, you were surprised to find yourself laying in something soft and cold. You tried to sit up, but dizziness overtook and you wound up laying back down, holding your head.

When your headache subsided, you shivered again from the cold. Thoughts of hypothermia flitted through your mind. You needed to get up and out of the snow. You went and bent your legs to stand up, leading to a throb of pain from the right leg and a gasp from you. It hurt, and you bent towards it. You stretched your hands onto your pant leg and gently felt along it until you felt a bump. Your chest constricted, and you pressed it gently. You hissed from the pain. It seemed to be that your leg was injured, though not that extensively. The lump seemed to be just on the front of your shin, and though the pain spanned from the bump to your ankle and knee, it was, in your best insight, severely bruised and strained, not broken. But hadn’t it been broken…? You rolled over from your back onto your stomach, carful to be slow and steady, as to not jostle your leg.

You were lying in snow. The heavy, white substance covered the ground and the trees, which looked to be spruce. The world was still and eerily quiet, with nothing but the wind whispering throughout your surroundings. Dark grey clouds covered every inch of the sky, with only a muted light shining through. You were lying near the base of one of the spruce trees, close enough to touch the light brown bark.

After a few minutes of surveying your immediate area and questioning how on earth you ended up in such a predicament (and how you were to get out of it), You felt secure enough in your surroundings and with your leg , so you tried getting up slowly this time. Crawling the few inches toward the trunk of the tree you were next to, you used the trunk and your good leg to finally stand. The shivers had gradually gotten stronger, and you had to use the tree for support as your body was wracked with the muscle contractions. You needed to get to some place warm, and soon. But how? You couldn’t walk with an injured leg without some sort of support. You tested it then, putting some weight on it. Nope. Limping unsupported could not be done here. You needed a walking stick, or a crutch.

The trees all around you had smooth, branch-free trunks until somewhere around halfway up the tree. You examined the ground around you for any parts of the snow that might conceal a branch. The forest floor was surprisingly flat, unmarred from rocks. That fact comforted you. Hadn’t you had a nightmare about running through a forest, tripping over rocks in your panic..?

What you found while looking was a branch sticking out from the ground, covered in snow but appearing thick enough to hold if you leaned on it. It was a couple of steps away from the tree though, and you needed to walk over to it to unearth it from the ground and actually utilize it.

Ironic.

So, with a grimace and a whispered promise to your body that you would get a hot shower as fast as you could, you lied back on the ground and crawled to the stick. The snow was not slushy, but not crusty. If you were focusing on the snow, and not your current objective, you would have called it ‘snowman snow’.

The snow squeaked as it sunk in, showing your caterpillar route to the stupid stick. It was a slow, annoying process. You were cold, and plunging your elbows into the snow to drag your pretty much useless legs behind you was not favourable. But you did it, it was done, you had gotten to the stick. Rolling around to your back, you took a second to blow on your hands and put them in your armpits. They were numb and tingling in a way that was alarming. Nothing about you was warm anymore, but your hands somehow scraped enough warmth together to bring feeling back. You muttered thanks to a celestial being and shifted to sit on your butt.

Reaching out to the stick, you wedged it out of the ground partially by using your body weight to pull it down. It took energy, and when it had shaken off the snow you were breathing harder, the small amount of exertion tiring your dwindling energy. You scooped the last bit of snow off of the stick, and once again offered thanks as you found that the stick was just that, a stick, and not attached to a log or something.

This was the hard part. Now that you had the crutch, the last game was a balancing act as you tried to get up and use the stick with a useless lump of flesh attached to your body that hurt when even mentioned.

You were tired. Eyelids drooping, head nodding, you wanted to lie back in the soft snow and fall asleep. But you couldn't. Why couldn't you? Thinking back, you realized that you didn't remember how you had gotten here. In fact, there was nothing to think back to. You had only very faint, very hazy recollections of the last… Few hours? You didn't even know how long it had been. One memory was the strongest, stuck in your head. Your friend, your enemy, they had a fight in your apartment. You were in it, and then…

Blank. Nothing. Your next memory was opening your eyes to a cloudy sky, in the forest. You didn't even have this many spruce trees in your area! It was mostly leafy trees where you lived. No part of your city, even the suburbs, had this large concentration of pines in the forest.

This realization came to a sobering question, one that woke you up from the stupor you were spiralling into and left you shaking from more than just the cold;

Where were you? Truly?

That got you up. You rose out of the snow like you were ascending to the heavens, the walking stick firmly in the ground and in your grip. Your leg did twinge, but you got the stick under your arm and transferred what little weight you had placed on it to the stick.

You firmly pushed the question that could bring about an existential crisis to the side so you could worry and chew on it, but you wouldn't freak out.

Now, to find people, or at least a shelter. There was a slim chance that you would find anything, but you cocked your head to the side and listened.

Silence. Not even birds tweeting. Just the air manoeuvring quietly through the boughs of the trees. It made your nervous level spike up to an eight, considering that even in snowy climates, there was animal life. Squirrels, birds, small mammals like mice or weasels. There were no sounds of that source. But you just listened harder, desperate to find something.

Suddenly, you got sound. It was faint, but you heard the sounds of water rushing. A river. Old sayings surfaced from your blank mind, voices from people far in the past.

“If lost, find a river. Both people and animals go to water sources. You might not find others, but you will find a steady, clean supply of water and a supply of meat as well. Following it downstream will lead you to a lake, and it will give you more chances of finding people.”

That was reassuring. You took an experimental step forward, leading with the walking stick. Awkward, but it would have to work. You turned to the direction of where the noise was coming from.

Get out of the forest. Find someone. Get out of the forest. Find someone.

You repeated this mantra in your head as you took hobbling steps forward, trying to forget your leg, your survival chances, and where you were most of all.

~

You must've been the luckiest person alive.

That was sarcasm. You were unlucky. Possibly the worst kind of unlucky. Dangerously unlucky.

You had limped a long ways for an uncountable amount of time, your heartbeat, breathes, and the rustle of branches your only companions. Your mind played tricks on you as it told you to sleep. You were barely alive, your flesh a sort of purple as you froze. How were you still moving? The hope of finding warmth drove you each step. Your leg didn’t even hurt much anymore; it was too cold. But hope had also been diminished to a fading ember, a mere dream.

The river was second to the hope of finding warmth, keeping that ember alive. You had thought that it had been a figment of your imagination a while ago, but it was getting louder. Slowly, but surely, you were getting closer to the source. Your surroundings were still endless spruce trees, endless snow though.

“I… must…” You whispered out words in between breathes, the air forcing itself in and out of your lungs just barely wisps.
“Make… it…”

The forest created the impression of endlessness, as forests often did. But something nagged at you. There was shelter, there were people, you were sure of it. You just needed to keep going. Even though your brain was fuzzy, even if it might’ve been a thought from your fevered mind, you followed the nagging. It was that or give up, after all. And you had no intention of giving up.

Something caught your vision in front of you, and your brows furrowed. Were those… Lights? They looked like lights, though they were far away. They glowed yellow, and flickered. There seemed to be a clearing ahead of you, many steps away. Your pace quickened slightly, hope rekindling. Lights meant people.

Lights meant warmth.

You got to the end of the forest, a few trees from emerging into the clearing. It was easy. Just step forward a few more paces. People would see you, right?

But something, or rather, someone had you stop.

A bar sat in front of you. Its exterior was made of bricks, the sign above spelling out ‘Grillby’s’ with purple lettering. Snow sat atop both the windows and the door, the windows cracked in places and showing a dimly lit interior, and the door baring deep scratch marks, a flimsy piece of wood hanging over the door, holding at least a foot of snow. The bar itself didn’t really alarm you, though it was confusing considering you were, well, in a snowy forest. No, what made you stop was the thing standing in front of it, arms crossed and glaring.

It was a bear. A bear monster. That was the only way to describe it; as a monster. Its fur was black, missing hair in some places where scars lay instead. Its muzzle was covered in scars as well, and its eyes were a bright yellow, staring at the ground with a burning gaze. The jacket it was wearing was brown leather, patched in places and looking like it had been through fights.

You readjusted the stick under your arm and shuffled to the left, making your way away from the monster. A thought tickled at your memory once again. You had a badgering feeling that you knew about monsters… Well, of course you did. Everyone knew about monsters. But they were never described as looking so ordinary. The bear monster was just a bear standing on its hind legs, wearing a leather jacket and a bad attitude. You didn’t understand how you could’ve jumped to the conclusion that it was a monster. But, bears were quadruped, standing on their hind legs only sometimes. This bear had a straight spine, no sign of rearing up. Plus, it was wearing a leather jacket, and its face was showing emotions like a human you would not want to cross.

You stayed near the village, moving sideways, to the left. You were just looking for a house to huddle in. Even if there were monsters that looked mean and scary, you were going to die without asking for help. And honestly, seeing them wasn’t the weirdest thing that had transpired. It was just right under ‘waking up in unknown location with no recollection of events that had lead up to aforementioned point’.

You were chasing hazy circles in your head, your eyes unfocused at a black and red devil-ish monster (truly the example of monster) that was arguing with a large eared, brown-furred mouse monster wearing a humongous scarf wrapped around its entire body and slim black heeled boots, both of whom were standing across the way.

The trees suddenly seemed to be moving closer, their branches reaching out to grab you. That was it; you were getting out of the forest, out of the cover of the trees. The slightly threatening street, lit with even lamps but in the open, looked ten times better than staying with the curving branches, the same patterns of trunks.

You made a less than graceful exit from the woods themselves; getting your walking stick stuck in some hidden roots and falling with a half groan, barely catching yourself in an awkward position. Your head shot up to the creatures you had been watching, but your sound of distress did not break their heated discussion about whatever the argument was about. You grabbed your walking stick and tumbled fully out of the forest, nervous shivers racing down your spine, lining up with the cold ones.

You quickly limped away from the devil and mouse, away from the bear and the bar. You wanted no quarrel with them.

After passing by the darkly painted ‘librarby’ (It had a spelling mistake, you noted, and its windows were fully busted, looking too menacing for you to even step towards), a house came into view. It was made with the same wood as the forest, and it had lights on, meaning someone was home. The world tipped suddenly, and you wobbled, trying to keep balance. After it settled, you tried to walk quicker, the door being just a few feet away. You passed by two mailboxes, both empty, but you hardly noticed.

Then, with a halting, quivering stop, you reached the door. Light shined through the small window in the door, and you rested against it for a minute. Your eyes slipped closed…

No, no, you were there. So close to warmth. So close to help. You knocked a few times, kind of just slapping your hand on the door. Your heart sped up, and through the blood pumping in your ears, you heard a shuffling from inside the house. You stumbled back as the door swung in harshly, a short, red and black being growling out words you heard but couldn’t understand. Your bleary eyes fixed on them, and your jaw dropped open. A memory clicked into place as the world spun.

“Ink?” You slurred, and then promptly fell to the ground, darkness bringing you into its depth.

Chapter Text

Fell, in all of his ponderings and work in timelines and universes, would never have even expected to have an unfamiliar human, never seen before, fall unconscious on his and his brother’s doorstep.

He shouldn’t have actually been home (guard duty, slacking off, the slim but possible chance of being caught by his brother slacking off, yadda yadda), but he had been compelled by some force or another to pop into his humble abode and screw around with the magic tornado he had kicked up in his room. It was really for aesthetic more than anything, but his job was incredibly boring, enough to want to experiment with something that had been self-sustaining. He was told to keep guard for any other humans that might’ve fallen, so they could break the barrier without having to hurt the kid. Everyone liked Frisk. So much so that the entire monster race wanted to SPARE them, a human with the last bit needed to free every monster. The opportunity was right there, but no one would take it. No one wanted to take it. Frisk had befriended them, shown them MERCY and taught them another way other than to FIGHT. Sans took it all in stride, even though he knew no other human would fall down.

At least, he thought that he had known. The timing wouldn’t have been better to turn the day on its head than to throw an unexpected variable into the mix.

A knock at the door was rare. Papyrus opened the door like he was throwing open curtains obscuring the masses from his glory, Undyne just bashed right through it like a twig, and no other monsters dared to even think about approaching the skeleton brother’s home. Fell had a half-second thought that the kid was back from hanging around Waterfall, but the knocks weren’t the soft, pattering raps of the kid. They were semi-loud bangs on the sturdy door.

The sweaty skeleton immediately flared his magic, as he had released it for a small break, and teleported to the front door, fixing his sweater from its fight with the tornado and baring his teeth in a feral mock of a smile. He then opened the door with a flicker of his red magic and promptly growled,

“who are you and what do ya want?”

Expecting a particularly ballsy monster, he had been shocked to find, not a monster, not the child even, but a totally dissimilar human to the one he had grown to know. Fell had stared at the human for a full second, browbones furrowed and mouth half open. The human was leaning on a large stick, and they looked purple. They swayed on the spot, staring at him with bleary eyes.

Fell considered killing them right then. Get their SOUL, destroy the barrier, and be free. It was easy, and the kid wouldn’t have to get hurt; the human here had barely two HP left. Plus, he would be both somewhat of a saviour, and his brother would possibly even compliment him on his acheivment. His magic swirled, eager to be released and crush the human.

But they said something that made his magic stop in its place, half formed bones dissipating into thin air.

“Ink…?” They said. And then their eyes rolled back into their head, and they were out cold, falling to the ground in the doorstep of his home.

“god-“ Fell’s magic sparked, and a red glow surrounded the humans form, raising them out of the snow. Low growls came from Fell as he moved into the house, unconscious human in tow. He shut the door, laid the human on the couch, and immediately began pacing, sweat making tracks down his skull. He needed a good excuse for not killing the human on sight, why he had brought them into the house instead of taking their SOUL.

Fell glanced at the human in his pacing. Their breathing was small pants, their hair messy and their clothing soaked and dirty. Their flesh was slowly turning a pinkish colour instead of purple. Did they really say ‘Ink’? Was it a random interpretation of a mumbling? Fell looked at their SOUL, and it confirmed his thoughts. They had traces of magic, Ink’s magic, on their SOUL.

Ink’s magic on them meant one thing; they were not from this world. Well, possibly. But Fell knew about the repercussions and problems that would arise from killing someone who belonged in another universe. That and he also knew that Ink would not be happy. Well, Ink was usually a hard skeleton to make angry, and he hadn’t really seen Ink angry, but it was because of that. He had no idea how bad it would be; nothing to gauge the reaction off of.

Fell stared for another second, and then he walked out the door, using one of his shortcuts to get to the kid.

Things had just got complicated.

~

A sleep at strong as cement and as thick as it as well had you in its grip. No dreams; just fevered flashes of colours and voices. You had been slung out of the sleep several times, collecting blurry pictures of where you lay, before you were pulled back under. You couldn’t get comfortable; you were rolling back and forth, shifting, hoping to be more comfortable. You were tired, even as you slept. You felt cold, very cold.

You were only able to wake up when a low, gravelly voice stirred the sleep cement.

“i’m guessing you can see my predicament now, kid.” You kept your eyes closed, listening closely. Well, it was more like your eyelids were very heavy, and keeping them closed wasn’t hard.

There was silence, broken only by the soft swishing of fabric, then…

“stumbled right up to the door, i suppose. they might’ve tussled with another monster, i dunno. th’ stick they used to walk was thrown back into the woods by me. “

…

“boss can’t know. you know what he’d do.”

…

“kiddo, if i had any idea, i would’ve left you alone to play with napstablook and their stupid snail fighting ring.”

…

“yep, don’t think they’re from our universe. th’ magic tells me that they’ve been around ink.”

…

“well, we ain’t going to get any answers while they’re sleeping.”

A hand then nudged your arm, enough to push your body and even hurt a little. You gathered the strength to pry your eyelids apart, blinking a few times to clear the blurriness away.

A skeleton and a small child stood before you.

The skeleton was short, but not as short as the child. His attire was a red turtleneck under a black jacket with a white fur rimmed hood, and a gold coloured zipper. Red and white shoes adorned his feet, and black shorts with a gold stripe down the side completed the look. He was smiling, but it looked a little panicked. His teeth were sharp, and one was gold as well. He seemed to be sweating a lot, and one eye socket was just solid black while the other had a red eye in the center.

The small child was shorter than the skeleton, wearing a red and black striped turtleneck sweater that looked a bit scruffy, along with black jeans and red shoes. They had short brown hair, looking scruffy as well. A flower accessory seemed to wind up their right arm. At least, it looked like one until it blinked at you. The petals were golden, but they had many rips and tears in them. The flower looked surprised and concerned, while the child looked pleasantly surprised. They were grinning widely, almost bouncing.

And they just seemed to make the scene more bizarre than it already was.

“Uh…” Your voice crackled badly, and you turned to cough violently into your shoulder. You were shivering, and you were cold. Your clothes were still damp, and your muscles felt very, very stiff and sore. The child frowned and put a hand to your head. Their eyes widened, and they then pulled out a phone that looked positively ancient. It didn’t even have a touch screen, and it looked battered.

You stared, confused, as they tapped wildly fast into it. Then a box projected out of it, light blue and flickering, and the child then reached a hand into it. Your eyebrows shot up as the child retracted their hand and- a cinnamon bun came out with it. Like, an honest to gosh cinnamon bun shaped like a rabbit. The child smiled, pocketed the phone, and held it out to you.

You peered at it for a second, warily and without hunger. You weren’t hungry, just cold and tired and very confused. But you reached for it and took it with trembling fingers, giving what you hoped was a smile that looked thankful.

It’ll- The child stopped signing and flapped their fingers, looking a tad distressed. They turned to the skeleton, who had been watching them, and signed rapidly. The skeleton then turned.

“th’ cinnamon bunny’ll heal you.” He said with a scowl on his face. You held disbelief in your chest, looking back down to the sugary thing that honestly would’ve appealed to you if you weren’t in your current condition. The skeleton said it would heal you..?

With a little (a lot) of hesitation, feeling uncomfortable that the skeleton, the kid, and the flower were watching, you took a small bite of the cinnamon bunny.

The treat was cold for a second, but it heated up in your mouth, the icing melting almost instantly. As you chewed the piece of food, your eyes widened. Tingles were blooming on your tongue, and they raced down your throat as you swallowed the piece. They weren’t uncomfortable ones; they were soft, warm. You felt warmth begin to go through your body. You took another bite, bigger this time, wanting more of whatever was happening. It brought you out of the half-asleep haze, helping you become more conscious.

The child seemed satisfied that you were eating heartily, and nodded as if to call it a success. They turned to the skeleton and began signing rapidly to him. You watched while taking smaller bites, feeling warm despite your cold clothes. For some reason that you faintly remembered, you could understand most of what the child was signing. You noticed that the skeleton, while watching the kid tell him whatever, also kept you in his peripheral. Instead of snooping in on the pairs conversation (even if you were sort of half-included), you turned your attention to where you currently lay.

You were propped up on a lumpy green couch, which was squishy but hard in some places and slightly painful to lie on. The floor was carpeted in a wavy dark blue and dark purple pattern. The walls were a dark brown wood, and a small table stood beside the couch at your head, along with a longer one at the opposite end. The longer table appeared to have something on it, but you couldn’t really tell what it was. The small table had a large, dark red book on it with the title, “Joke book” and not much else. A doorless doorway lead off to another room. You had a hunch that it was the kitchen.
Behind the trio (you counted the flower), there was stairs that lead up to a unfenced upper level, where there were two doors and a picture of a bone. One of the doors had many things on it; the other was simply a door.

A TV was directly across from you, sitting on a table with a drawer. The TV looked like a flat screen, and it had a few cracks running across the screen.

You refocused onto the conversation happening in front of you, only to find the two had finished their conversation and were looking back at you. You cleared your throat.

“I don’t want to impose.” Your voice was still raspy, “But I’d, um, like to know where I am.”

“do ya know where ya came from?” The skeleton asked gruffly.

“No, not really. I mean, I have a fuzzy recollection, but all I can clearly remember is coming to in the forest.” You replied, playing with the sleeve of your shirt nervously.

“do ya remember a skeleton like me, but with different clothin’? do you know about th’ alternate universes?”

You frowned, and then scrunched your face up.

“K-kind of?” You stared at him, trying to dreg some memory up. Suddenly, it came to you.
“I do remember Ink. He’s my friend. You look like him, But edgier.”

The child burst out laughing then, clutching their stomach almost comically as they doubled over. The Ink-lookalike’s frown drooped deeper, irritation sparking on his face.

“yeah, real funny punk. hilarious. never heard that one before.”

You didn’t understand what you said that was that funny.

“okay, you can answer my second question while ‘chuckles’ here finishes their hysteria.” The skeleton motioned towards the still giggling kid, walked closer, and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“do you know about the aus?”

You frowned at his rudness, but answered anyways. It seemed that your head was becoming clearer thanks to the cinnamon bunny. You were remembering more and more.

“Yes, I know about alternate universes. Why?”

The skeleton blew air sharply out of his nasal bone.

“’cause you’re in underfell, bucko. i’m the sans of this universe, and this is the frisk.” Sans leaned in closer, smile coming back with a hint of malice. His one eye glowed brighter, and you shrunk into the couch cushions.

“and we monster’s here don’t play nice.”

Chapter Text

Error hovered in the void, his own personal pocket, to be exact. It was where he originated, after all. It gave him peace; the endless dark, the thundering silence. His strings hung from the nonexistent ceiling, weaved through the nonexistent air. They quivered slightly as he nursed his bruised pride, neon blue tendrils glowing a tad brighter as they thrummed with magic. His physical wounds had been repaired easily with healing magic, but the fight with Ink, more specifically, the draw, bothered him.

He would’ve won if that stupid glitch with the familiar but peculiar SOUL wavelength hadn't knocked him off of Ink, saving the colourful skeleton from a strong, paralyzing magic jolt. Just the thought of Ink and that human touching him made him shudder in disgust. He felt like scrubbing his bones.

The glitching skeleton swiped a hand to the side lazily, bringing up a screen sort of space in front of his eyes that only he could see, appearing sort of like the retro arcade screens. Lines of black symbols raced across a yellow background, too quick for the human eye. But Error tracked them all, scrolling with twitches of his fingers.

Ugh, just looking at all of them, all of the AUs, made magic crackle across his strings with anger. All of them were mistakes, never meant to happen. He wanted so dearly to crush them; to envelope the universe into a small sphere of his magic and cease their functioning. But Ink was the main problem.

That skeleton had eventually, despite Error’s best efforts, brought almost the sans’ from all the universes into a functioning group of interconnected relations. The sparce few (Nightmare, Dust, Horror) were on his side. They were loyal comrades, aiding in whatever Error told them to. It almost made him regret the fact that he would encapsulate and eventually destroy their universes as well.

Almost.

All was not bad, of course. He might have been stalled for a very long time, but it was a matter of patience, he knew that. Even with Ink travelling from AU to AU, even with the reminders written into his scarf, even though Ink diligently put his half-baked organization first, he was bound to slip up. Everyone does, after all.

Error felt a shadow of happiness as he once again called upon his “souvenir corner”. It had been bare for some time, never able to be used. But now there was something there, filling up space on one of the “shelves”. A small, dark blue sphere sat on the top, pulsating slowly. If one were to look closely, they could almost see something within, swirling slowly.

Error had successfully captured a universe.

And it was yours.

Chapter Text

You got better clarification on what the skeleton had said a few hours later.

Since your clothes were pretty damp from the snow, the kid (whose name you had learned was Frisk), had somehow gotten the admittedly intimidating skeleton to lend you some clothes. That was how you had ended up in a sweater that was baggy and barely covered below the navel, and a pair of shorts that went to three quarters of your thighs and hung off of your hips in a threatening display of ‘be careful, or you may flash everyone’.

Fell (that was what he told you to call him) was wide and short, a combination that did not fit with your figure. He had gotten into a sour mood when you had his clothes on, but he didn’t do anything other than glare and then look off to the side. You felt embarrassed and nervous, mostly because it felt strangely intimate to be wearing strangers clothes; a monster stranger, no less. But within minutes you were warm, and Frisk was insistent on you wearing something other than the clothes you had come with. You kept your undergarments on, of course, but everything else had been trashed, leaving you in a place that was simultaneously unfamiliar, confusing, and thirsting for your SOUL, all while wearing a stranger's clothes (of whom was your friend’s clone or cousin or something along those lines).

So overall, you were having a grand old time.

Sitting down at the table in the kitchen, you stared down at your hands, which were clasped tightly on the table. You were staring pretty intently at your hands like they would tell you the secrets of the universe, and Frisk caught onto that. The child knocked on the table to draw your attention. You had told them at some point that you knew how to read sign language, though the kind they were using was partially unreadable. Deciphering it was a bit of a challenge, but since you had asked Frisk to sign a tad slower, it was easier to understand what they were trying to tell you.

Are you feeling okay?

“Yeah, I’m just a little spacey sometimes.” You smiled and shifted in your seat. Fell, who had seemed to be leaning against the doorway asleep, shifted imperceptibly.

I don’t think you’re being truthful.

“Man, you can certainly read people. I am lying, I’m actually pretty terrified. I have gaps in my memory, and I’m down here without a clear picture of why, and there are monsters-“ You drew in a shuddering gasp.
“-Monsters, of all things. And they want to hurt me.” You could feel the burning stare of Fell, who had his eyes opened very slightly digging into the side of your head, and it was unsettling. You ignored it.

I understand your panic. When I fell down here, I had the same feelings and thoughts that you are describing. But I didn’t give up. I talked to them, I ACTed instead of FIGHTing.
Frisk raised their eyebrows.

Would you like for me to tell you a story?

You leaned back into your chair, tilting your head. A story?
“Well, no reason to say no, right?”

Frisk gave you a smile, wiggled their fingers, and then began to sign.

This place, the Underground, was worse before I fell down here. There was deceit, treachery, lies thrown around like candy. No one was to be trusted, everyone was an enemy.

A long time ago, two races ruled peacefully over the earth; HUMANS and MONSTERS. One day, a terrible war broke out between them, and the world was buried in it. After a long battle, in which both sides lost many, the humans were victorious. They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell. Rumour says that if you climbed the mountain where the monsters were cast, you would never return. Mount Ebbot is its name, but after a while, it simply became a fairy tale.

Frisk paused for a moment, and you wondered if that was the end of it. Fell looked vaguely nervous, buried in his sweater like it could hide him, but still pretending to be asleep. A few drops of sweat traced their way down his skull before Frisk continued.

That is where the tale that the humans tell ends. Of course, there is always more to a story.

The monsters grew bitter toward the human race after their imprisonment. They craved revenge, but they were unable to reach what they wanted. Bone deep grudges- Frisk giggled, then sobered up –changed the monsters. With no outlet, they turned to each other to rid themselves of the hate. Kin fought against kin, friends betrayed friends, and everyone looked out only for themselves and fought each other ruthlessly. Their behaviour only worsened as time dragged on. The underground was a mess, a battleground full of the dust of monsters.

You didn’t understand what Frisk meant by ‘the dust of monsters’, but it definitely did not sound good.

The king and queen, along with their son, tried to regulate the violence. They themselves were angry, but the queen was kind, and the king was forgiving. Their son, Asriel, was raised with kindness toward all, even with the destruction around him.

One day, he found a fallen human.

Frisk’s eyes darkened for a fraction of a second.

The human was adopted by the Dreemurr’s, and fit in well. Though they themself were human, the monsters began to slowly learn that not all humans were bad. Kindness and compassion slowly began to rise up, above the hate.

Then the human child fell deathly ill and died. Prince Asriel merged their soul with his to fulfill their last wish; to see the golden flowers of their village again. When he entered the village, the human inhabitants took his carrying of the child’s corpse as murder, and attacked him. Asriel fled back to the underground injured, dying of his wounds later.

You were stiff and unmoving, the horror of such a misconception dawning on you. Frisk did not stop.

Enraged, the king ordered a death penalty on any humans who would fall afterwards. Queen Toriel tried to reason with him, but he ignored her pleas and banished her to the ruins, only allowing her to leave once she had a human SOUL.

A few months ago I fell into the Underground. The monsters tried to take my SOUL, but I talked to them, helped them. I showed them that FIGHTing was not the absolute answer. When I finally reached Asgore, the king, I didn't want to leave. I could, and still can, but I don't want to. These monsters are good. They can be good. Do you understand?

You nodded, tears pricking your eyes. You were always a sucker for sad stories.

“Couldn't you use your SOUL to break the barrier?”

Frisk shook their head.

To use my SOUL, the monsters would have to kill me and take it. I would let them take it, but my friends won't let anyone do that. Some monsters would, but most won't. That means that we have to wait for another human to fall down.

Frisk looked sad themselves, and you knew why. The ultimate pacifist, they didn't want anyone to get hurt. They would even sacrifice themself for these monsters. It chilled you slightly, that a child would talk of these things so casually, but Frisk wasn't completely a kid anymore. They had been through countless fights and tests of will, and they gave an air of someone older than what they looked.

“You need to wait until another human falls into the Underground…”

Yes. Frisk signed. That means that you are in danger. You do not belong here, but the other monsters don't know that. If they found out about you, they would kill you without hesitation.

“How pleasant.” You said sarcastically, and Frisk smiled humorlessly.

~

“Ey yo, sweetheart, ain't got all day.” Fell said from the doorway. You widened your eyes in frustration and stared at the wall like it was a camera for a second.

“Alright there, bones.” You said, getting up from the table. It had been about a half hour after Frisk had told you the history of monster, and your current situation. Since then, you had finished the plan about how you were to leave, and you were chatting with Frisk while waiting for the right moment.

Frisk and Fell had talked, and you had listened. You were apparently going to be brought to a place they called “Waterfall”, where you would wait with Fell as your escort until Ink arrived. It was a pretty solid plan, though Fell grumbled a bit about it. Dang, he was a tough nut to crack.

Well, you were going now. Still dressed in Fell’s clothes (you had mentioned putting your other ones back on, but Fell had told you to just keep his, he’d throw yours out later), you put on your boots and turned to give one last hug to Frisk. They weren't going to join you, they were staying in the house.

The kid was sweet, and full of kindness. You hadn't known them for long, but it was like you had.

The flower suddenly spoke in the middle of your hug with Frisk.

“Stay safe.” It said quietly, shaking ever so slightly. You smiled at it and nodded, then let go of Frisk.

“I don't believe in goodbyes.” You said.

“So, see you soon.”

Frisk smiled and waved, and you grabbed onto Fell. He opened the door and took a step. You closed your eyes, and the ground seemed to disappear. You floated, and for a split second, you thought you heard someone say something, but you weren't sure.

[XXXXXXXXXXX]

~

Fell had immediately let go of you the second you were stabilized, almost shoving you away from him. It kind of hurt, but you inwardly brushed it off. Fell wasn't the most kind monster (none of the monsters here were apparently), and you had a hunch that closeness, whether physically or emotionally, was uncomfortable for him.

“welp, we’re here. welcome to waterfall human, where you'll be picked up by our buddy ink.”

Waterfall was a peaceful place, even if the monsters that lived in it weren't. Its main colours were black and varying colours of blue. You could almost feel the tingle of magic in your fingertips, and the whole place smelt of ozone and something undoubtedly slightly minty. Though the air tasted recycled, it didn't hold back the charm of the place. Fell began walking forward at a slow, unhurried pace, not waiting to see if you'd follow. A huff of air escaped from your lips as you frowned and tried to catch up to him.

The route to the rendezvous point was a bit twisty and turny, what with all of the bridges and large spaces. You were sure you had passed by a particular patch of glowing mushrooms at least five times. It wasn't that bad, actually; sure, your leg was still aching, and you were limping, but a calm settled over you in this place. It was tranquil, peaceful. Maybe it was magic, maybe it was a lowering of your defended slightly (it was most probably possibility number one. You were smarter than possibility number two). Whatever it was, you welcomed it. It eased the anxiety churning in your gut at any rate.

A while of walking later brought you across a bridge suspended over the glowing water to a place attached to the rock wall, with enough cover to hide you from hostile monsters. It was actually several bridges connected to one piece of the land rather than one, but technicalities be disregarded. The point was that you had arrived where you would leave. The drop off point. There was nary a way to word it that didn't sound like you were a child being traded between your separated guardians.

Fell told you to stay back, and then he walked forward a few paces. Nothing appeared to happen for a few seconds, and you thought that maybe Fell couldn't call Ink. But then, right in front of Fell, a small rip in the air materialized. It was tiny, but it shone with a golden light. Fell closed his hand into a fist and flicked his wrist a few times. He then opened his palm, and a tendril of red magic twisted out of it. The tendril weaved into the hole, which then closed quickly with a pop. The skeleton then sighed deeply, sweat pouring down his skull. Looks like sending the message took a lot out of him.

Fell, true to his infuriatingly neutral and uncaring nature, decided to then fall asleep on the spot without a word, leaving you to hide yourself behind the tall grass and reeds, staring down into the water.

Though you felt calm, your thoughts were swirling like storm clouds on the horizon, or like storm clouds perched overhead in a silent threat.

A knot of fear was settled neatly in your rib cage, in the right place to get a hold of your chest and grip it tightly, barely allowing breath. You breathe deeply then, reassuring yourself and simultaneously trying to loosen the knot.

Of course, it barely affected the knot, but it was worth a shot.

A second knot, one of anxiety and dread, was sunken in the pit of your stomach. Though the details were fuzzy, you knew that the fight between your friend Ink and Error was not good. It was a turning point, or at least the build up to one. Something was going to happen. The dread nagged at you, telling you that something had already happened.

You didn't want to think about it.

“Hey, Fell.” You said. No response from the skeleton. You crinkled your brow and turned to him. He was still standing, still breathing deeply like in the throes of sleep. But you could see that his eyelids were open slightly. The jerk was awake, and he was ignoring you.

“Fell. Shorty. Edgy McMy Chemical Romace. Skelly boy. Edge meister. Hot topic sellout. Yo, I'm trying to get your attention.”

You finally heard a low growl of words emit from Fell.

“Screw off.”

“Rude. And no.” You countered defiantly, if somewhat childishly.

Fell opened his eye sockets finally, glaring at you with his one glowing red eye, teeth bared threateningly.
“What do you take me for, your friggin’ parent? I ain't here to coddle you. You're annoyin’ as all fell, an I'm only here to keep you from losing your SOUL.” Fell chortled a tad from his word play, then tilted his head and shrugged.

“Not that I would care if your SOUL got taken, but standin here’s better than guard duty.” He sneered at you, then closed his eyes.

“You're a pain in my side that I want to get rid of, so don't think that you're oh so special to me. You are an anomaly, screwing around with the timeline’s o’ this universe. You aren't even supposed to exist here.”

You felt a stinging in your eyes. Great, you were three seconds away from crying. You blinked away the water and growled in your chest, curling your hands into fists on the ground, grabbing fistfuls of grass.

“Look,” you said, staring down at the ground, which was capturing more of your attention than you would care to admit. You wanted to sink into it, for it to swallow you up, but that wouldn't happen. You were left to talking.

“I don't know why I ended up here, and I barely remember how. All I really want to do is lie down and sleep for the next month, but since that is not available, I'm using what is left of my energy to continue on.” You sighed heavily, tugging at the neck of your borrowed sweater.

“I'm trying to understand my situation without having a panic attack, so if you could kindly not snarl at me with your hastily put together façade of toughness, that would be great.”

Fell didn't respond. All he did was glare, his eye seemingly trying to pry your SOUL from your body. You heaved another sigh and tucked into a ball, wrapping your arms around your legs and watching the little wisps of blue fade up from the ground, listening to the rushing water. The ground was surprisingly dry for such a wet environment.

After a minute of silence and boredom, a being sat down beside you. You didn't react, but you did glance out of the corner of your eye. It was Fell, who looked uncomfortable, and who was sweating slightly more than before.

The two of you exchanged no words, and barely acknowledged each other's presence. The knot in your chest throbbed at the edges, but the pain was dulled slightly from the silent companionship, if you could call it that.

To be honest, he sort of had the right to act like this. You had just ended up in this world, and crawled to his house. He (although begrudgingly) had taken you in, and though he was a prickly person, Fell put up with you all the way to here.

You sighed and shifted around, getting a need to walk around. You glanced back at Fell for permission, then looked away and heaved yourself up.

Fell said nothing, once again asleep; though it did seem like he noticed your absence.

I'll take a quick loop of the bridges and come right back. You thought, walking forward onto the creaking wood. Your restless thoughts were replaced with the sounds of rushing water, the rustle of grass, and a haunting but peaceful tune that drifted through the air.

~

“TEm wAN… UR mONS!! U… Giv TeM Ur MONS! OR TeM… TAk UR HOMe!”

Your heart thumped against your chest as you watched from within the shadow of a overhang, as a small dog-ish monster haggled a monster that looked like… A muscled horse fish. The horse fish flexed its arm and snorted threateningly, but it looked a tad distressed.

The dog (cat?) monster was wearing a small tuxedo. It had short grey hair and a monocle. Though it was small (it's ears would almost brush your knee), the monster had a commanding presence that was laced with something menacing.

The two continued to stand off, and your muscles were beginning to complain from the position you were in; pressed back flat against the wall, arms on either side of you spread out. The shadow was small, but just big enough. Any movement would uncover you though. Stillness was key.

It was supposed to be a small jaunt, but your internal clock told you almost thirty minutes had passed since you had left Fell. It wasn't your fault though. You had taken a wrong turn and wandered deeper into Waterfall, until you had gotten so lost that you couldn't backtrack. It was difficult to avoid the monsters, as they seemed to come from everywhere, but Lady Luck must have blessed you, for you were able to slip past them.

Things began to get heated between the monsters in front of you, and you wondered if they were going to start fighting.

If so, you thought.

Then I could go around them while they are distracted.

It seemed like that was how it was going to go. The dog monster’s face changed into a smug glare, and the horse fish whinnied, slapping its tail on the ground. They both looked about ready to brawl, and you waited, tense, for the right moment to run. It wouldn't be much longer. You tensed.

Suddenly, the sound of boots clomping loudly echoed in the cavern. The two monsters froze in place, and you grew confused. Then, with a final hiss at the horse fish, the cat (dog?) monster dashed away. The horse fish spat at the retreating monster, before slipping into the water beside it.

You waited breathlessly as the stomps grew louder, signalling that whoever or whatever it was, was getting closer. The shadows wouldn't cover you anymore, your body refused to continue to be stuck in that position. You were out in the open, vulnerable to any monster. Considering how the horse fish and cat/dog monster had acted, it must be someone who meant business.

The thought of diving into the reeds on your right came into your mind, and you somersaulted into them, just as the stomping entered the space. The footsteps stopped, and everything was quiet, almost deathly so. You pressed your body to the ground and held your breath, praying that the being hadn't seen the flash of your clothing, or the wild rustling of the reeds.

The silence lasted for over a minute, and your lungs were aching for air. You couldn't hold your breath anymore. Slowly, very slowly, you opened your mouth and took a quiet breath.

All at once, something large slammed down beside you, piercing the ground. You flinched and squeaked, then froze.

“I WILL GIVE ONE SECOND TO WHOEVER LIES IN THE REEDS TO STAND UP AND SHOW THEIR COWARDLY FACE TO THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS.” A grandiloquent voice boomed, echoing around the cavern loudly. You could here the ruthless undertone. If you didn't stand up, you’d be killed. But standing up also guaranteed your demise, as the monsters thirsted after your SOUL.

Oh heck.

Chapter Text

There was no time to think. You had to act, or you would perish. This tall, intimidating skeleton meant what he said. What were you to do otherwise?

So you stood up, uncovering yourself from the reeds.

A skeleton stood in front of you, at least two feet taller than you. He was frightening. Black armor with red accents, sharp black gloves, with a scar splitting through one of his eye sockets.

“A HUMAN!?” The skeleton roared, his face a mix of confused and surprised. It soon morphed into a scary sort of glee.

“EXCELLENT! JUST WHAT WE NEED! THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS HAS FOUND A HUMAN!” His voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you as it echoed in the cavern. You cringed, and the skeleton took note of it.

“SCARED? YOU SHOULD BE, HUMAN. I WILL KILL YOU AND TAKE YOUR SOUL. WE WILL FINALLY BE FREE.” He seemed to pause, then annoyance graced his features.

“THAT LAZY OAF! HE DID NOT TELL ME OF THIS HUMAN AT ALL! THAT IMBECILE MUST HAVE SHIRKED HIS SENTRY DUTY AGAIN!” The skeleton shook his head in disgust, then outstretched his hand. A large orange bone formed in it, and he quickly drew it back, holding it half behind himself. He then pointed his other hand's sharp index finger at you.

“NYAHAHAHAHAHA! PREPARE TO FIGHT THE CAPTURER OF YOUR SOUL, THE CAPTIAN OF THE ROYAL GUARD, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS!”

It wasn't half a second afterward that you felt a tugging from your chest. It was chillingly familiar, and you knew what it was. Your SOUL was being pulled out of you. The world faded to monochrome, the skeleton taking on the same shades. He looked a little less frightening, but the glare in his eye and the set scowl of his mouth told you that he was not going to spare you.

Your heartbeat quickened, and your muscles tensed.

Oh no

You sucked in a breath, feeling queasy. Crap, you were beginning to panic. It wasn't your fault that each time this had happened, you were on the verge of death. No, no, you needed to focus. You weren't going to immediately die. There was a way out of this, you were sure. You just needed to keep a level head and think.

Faint music began to play in the background. If you were paying attention, you would have questioned why such a thing would occur. But you were not paying attention, so the sudden music went unnoticed.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iKVvpiHS4Y)

Your SOUL floated in front of you, in a different format than before. It didn't glow, it was flatter in color, and it blinked twice, then disappeared somewhere. You closed your eyes tightly, hands clutched at your chest, waiting for the skeleton to attack you.

But nothing happened.

You opened one eye slightly and saw him standing there. He moved slightly from side to side, but otherwise, he was still. A white outlined rectangle floated in between you two, black inside except for a bit of words.

*Papyrus is waiting for you to make the first move.

Waiting.

What do I do? You asked yourself. As you lowered your arms, there was a small clink sound. You looked down and saw a little menu spread out around you.

Three orange and one yellow rectangle floated in front of your body. Each one had separate text in it. The first one to your left had ‘FIGHT’ in it. The second one had ‘ACT’, and it was yellow. The third had ‘ITEM’ in it. The fourth, ‘MERCY’.

You had absolutely no idea what they meant and what was happening.

You looked back up, and you noticed that the words in the rectangle had changed.They were bulleted with more asterisks. One said ‘check’, the other, ‘flirt’, and the last ‘insult’. The check one had your SOUL floating after the words, miniature.Under it was more white writing on the left and a short yellow bar on the right.

LV. 1
HP 40/40

You scrunched your eyebrows and looked back down to the menu. You hesitated, then cautiously tapped the yellow rectangle. It turned back to orange, and your SOUL was in a small space before the word. You hovered your hand over the button, then you slid it to ‘ITEM’. A small, different sound came from the menu, and the SOUL heart appeared in the space before ‘ITEM’. You looked back up, and the skeleton was still stationary, the same text there again.

*Papyrus is waiting for you to make the first move.

You tapped the ‘ITEM’ button, but nothing happened. You didn't have anything on you.

You looked at ‘MERCY’, and while SPARE was there, that was all.

You returned to ‘ACT’. Gosh, you were sweating. You wiped your hairline and patted the sweat into your shirt.

You tapped *check.

*Papyrus ATK ??? DEF ??? HP ???
*loud and brash. Scary. Seems to like to say NYAHAHAHAHAHA.

Wow, how helpful. You didn't even understand how ‘check’ was useful at all.

You heard the skeleton laugh again, and your head shot up.

*NYAHAHAHAHAHA

What.

You had no time to react. The words disappeared and the rectangle became shrunk down, turning into a smaller square. With a start, you realized that your SOUL was in it. Suddenly, bones flew out from the sides, as white as the border. You didn't know what to do.

One clipped your SOUL, and a burning ripped through you.

“Augh!” You cried out, clutching at your shoulder. Your SOUL blinked in and out, and a few bones passed through it, this time dealing no damage. The bones stopped flying, and the box turned back into the rectangle.

The burning was gone now, but something had changed. The small yellow bar on the right wasn't entirely yellow anymore. A sliver of it was now red. The number beside it had changed too.

36/40

“Aww crap.” You said, getting it a bit now. If your HP or whatever hit zero, then you were gone. The burning, it was the HP depleting.

You looked down at your body. Nothing seemed out of place. No ripped fabric, no blood. It seemed to be not physical at all.

You looked up at the rectangle.

*Papyrus is predicting a easy win.

Oh no. No way were you going to let him gloat over your novice battle skills. You pressed your lips together and lowered your eyelids halfway, brows following. You glared at the tall monster, refusing to back down.

If you were going out, it wasn't going to be in a cowardly way.

You took a few grounding breathes. FIGHTing wasn’t your style. Looks like what was left was the ‘flirt’ and ‘insult’ options in the ‘ACT’ box. Well, no harm in (ugh) complimenting him, I guess.

You hovered over the ‘flirt’ option. You racked your head for something impartial and yet flattering that could be interpreted as flirtation.

You pressed the option.

“You are very intimidating. It's really... Cool.” You said, leaning on a hip and looking at him from a three quarter head turn, looking up through your eyelashes. Okay, yeah, you were bad at flirting. But it seemed to fluster the skeleton.

“FLIRTING!?” Papyrus screeched.
“W-WELL, I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I AM A SKELETON WITH VERY HIGH STANDARDS, HIGHER THAN A MERE HUMAN COULD EVER REACH.”

Two options appeared in the box as you thought of a clever comeback. He seemed to be expecting one, anyways.

‘I have zero redeeming qualities’ one said.

‘I can make spaghetti’ was the other option.

Welp, may as well go with the truth You thought as you pressed it.

“I have zero redeeming qualities.”

“NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SO YOU HUMANS ARE SO WORTHLESS YOU EVEN KNOW IT! HOW PATHETIC!” The skeleton cackled, his words feeling like a whip on your ego. Ouch. You did just say it to get a mediocre laugh out but apparently, the universe wanted to give you a tough time.

The box shrunk to a square again, your soul shrinking to fit it. More bones assaulted you, and you tried to move and avoid them as best as you could.

Then you caught a break.

A bright flash of light and the sound of fabric tearing echoed through the cave, causing your eyes to shut instinctively. You felt another burn assault your leg, causing your body to fall to the ground.

“Ow!” You exclaimed, opening your eyes and clutching your leg, hissing against the phantom pain. The world’s colors bled back; the fight had ended. You felt a presence near you, and warm hands were placed on your shoulders.

“HEY, STOP ATTACKING THE HUMAN EDGE!” A loud and fierce voice boomed. You flinched from the reverberations and looked up from your leg.

You wanted to cry with relief.

Three skeletons were suddenly in the fray, two in front of you and the third standing beside you, the one with his hands on your shoulders. You could see that it was Dream beside you, with Ink and another skeleton that you hadn’t seen before in front of you. Their backs were to you, facing Papyrus.

“THAT IS NOT NICE!”

“NICE???” The taller skeleton retorted, face somehow contorting into a furiously confused expression.

“IT IS MY DUTY AS A GUARD TO FIND AND KILL ANY HUMAN WHO FALLS INTO THE UNDERGROUND! NICENESS HAS NO ROLE HERE, BLUE!” He sneered at the skeleton in blue armor, the one unknown to you.

Ink stepped forward, his hands outstretched as a sign of trust.

“This human has accidentally traveled across AUs to here. They didn’t come to the Underground organically. Killing them could set off dangerous imbalances in the Multiverse.” He said calmly.

“OH REALLY? AND WHY SHOULD I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, BELIEVE YOU?”

“Why would I meddle in happenings in universes that are organic? I protect the AUs, and the stability of them. I truly would not be here if I wasn’t being honest.” Ink’s voice was clear and truthful. For some reason it made you shiver even more.

Edge panned his eyes from Ink’s to yours, glaring at you. The pinpricks of light in his eye sockets burned into you, and you shivered, curling into Dream a tad more. Then Edge sniffed in disdain and the bone he was holding faded away.

“FINE! I WILL CONTINUE MY PATROL. LEAVE NOW, OR I WILL NOT HESITATE NEXT TIME.” He smiled with malice and promptly walked out of the cavern.

The second you couldn’t hear his footsteps, you broke down sobbing.

“Oh human!” Dream picked you up and held you close as the other two skeletons rushed to your side.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM?” Blue said, touching your shoulder. You shied away from the touch and buried your face in your hands, shaking.

“They were just in a fight with Edge, Blueberry. He was going to harm them.” Ink gave your frail form a look of sympathy. He then looked at Dream.
“Dream, can you send them to sleep?”

He nodded and tilted his head down, whispering a few words into your ear. A golden aura leaked from his teeth into your ear, and your shaking stopped as you entered sleep.

Ink unsheathed his paintbrush and opened a portal.

“Let’s bring them to the Anti-Void. I’ll talk to Fell later.”

They all jumped into the portal.

Chapter Text

Possibly the worst thing to happen, that could happen, did happen, and you were all sorts of discombobulated and distressed.

At least you would be if you were awake.

You were asleep right now, somewhere in between the light and the dark, where they intermingled and created grey; where purple and yellow danced in patterns that were quick to be seen and forgotten. It was the kind of sleep where you could feel, but didn't pay much attention. An energy sapping sleep, where you were just awake enough but teetering on the edge.

You had done a lot of sleeping in the past day (had it only been a day?) in one way or another.

(If you counted passed out as a form of sleep. It was unconsciousness, so it could possibly be the same.)

You were on a small wedge of cushion, big enough for your body and then some, but not something that you could sprawl out on. Flinging your limbs over the side was out of the question, so you mostly tossed and turned fitfully, rubbing your face into the squishy pillow and pulling the scrunchy blanket over your shoulder and ear.

There wasn't much noise at all. It was quiet, more of the “peaceful” type than the “empty” type, though you heard the murmuring of some persons a room away. You made a few noises akin to words and sighed, clumsily pulling a strand of hair out of your face as it was disturbed by said sigh.

You were at a comfortable temperature, a much better change from last time. Last time what? You didn't know.

Your eyebrows scrunched, mouth pouting into a frown. There was a last time? When and what-

Oh stars.

You shot up, eyes wide open. You toppled to the floor, the white floor, and heard screaming. You realized it was yours when your arms came to your face as your body curled in.

Pounding footsteps raced towards you, and your eyes darted to a door you hadn’t noticed before as it burst open.

Ink was there, eyes sharp and wielding his paintbrush, running in, scanning the room for danger.

Dream was behind him, staff in hand, and Blue held two medium glowing blue bones in his hands. Dream was the first to lower his weapon and sweep towards you, his staff disappearing as his face softened into concern.

“Human, human! It's alright, it's alright!” He kneeled over you and put his hands on your body gently. Ink lowered his paintbrush, and Blue’s bones disappeared as well. Your screams stopped, heavy, jerking breathing replacing it.

“HUMAN, WHY WERE YOU SCREAMING?” Blue said, curiosity on his face.

You took another breath, gulping.

“I-I, I don't-” your breathing sped up, more memories seeming to be dredged up with the sole purpose to steal the air from your lungs. You gasped, trying to pull oxygen in.

“Oh stars.” Ink said, hands clutching his skull in panic.

Dream said your name.

“Listen to my voice. Anchor yourself to it. It's alright, it is okay. You are safe, you are safe.”

He continued to murmur to you, telling you to breath deeply. You took shuddering breaths, slowly being brought back to the present by your golden saviour. He smiled comfortingly as your eyes became clearer, focusing better.

“There, you’re good, you’re alright.” He took your hands and helped you up, back to your resting place. It turned out to be a couch, uncannily like the one in-

Yeah.

You sat down heavily, suddenly aware of how stupid you must've looked. You felt your face and neck get hot, and you averted your eyes to the side, away from the trio of skeletons that were in front of you.

Several minutes passed in this silence as you caught your jumbled panic and tied it into a package of embarrassment.

“Ugh I'm sorry.” You buried your face in your hands, eyes burning.

“Hey, no, it's okay.” Ink pulled your hands from your face and forced you to tilt your head upwards. His eyes were full of relief, a small smile on his face.

“You've been through a lot in a short amount of time. No reaction would have been worse.”

“THAT IS TRUE, THERE IS NOTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR HUMAN!” Blue was grinning full force.

You groaned and scrunched your face in, still feeling gross.

“You all are too nice.”

“Probably.” Dream chuckled.

“Yeah.” Ink agreed.

“OF COURSE! BEING NICE IS THE LEAST THAT ANYONE CAN DO!” Blue said.

You leaned back and pulled the blanket to you, balling it up and squeezing it. Another silence, more awkward this time, permeated the atmosphere.

After a while, you noticed something, breaking the silence.

“Wait, where am I? Where are we?”

~

“The Anti Void?” You said, confused.

You and Ink sat on the furniture, you on a chair, and Ink on the couch that had housed your slumbering body. You had your legs to your chest, arms wrapped around them, face open and conveying your confusion.

Dream had gone off somewhere, while Blueberry had taken off to his AU. That had left you and Ink to awkwardly stare at each other.

“Yes, the Anti Void. It is the opposite of the Void, and the headquarters for most of the other Sans’.” Ink said, his hands tapping on his legs.

“Error was born of the Void, and as his counterpart, I was born of the Anti Void. It is a moldable liminal space, as you can see from the furnishing.” Ink gestured to the couches and beanbags and coffee tables laying around in the finite space, “finite” being dictated by the opaque walls.

“If the Void is the end of all things, then the Anti Void is the beginning. The realm of possibility.” He said.

“I am the creator, and Error is the destroyer.”

You nodded slowly, looking around at the things.

“So, like the Yin-Yang deal?”

Ink shrugged.

“Yeah, if you want think of it like that.”

“Ah.” You made a noncommittal sound, now focusing on your feet instead.

You were still wearing Fell's clothing, bringing about not pleasant recent memories. You had a strange conflicting feeling of wanting to cry, scream, and cease to exist. You were tired emotionally and mentally. Ink could probably sense it.

You wanted to say something. You couldn't not say it, but something held you back. You continued to let him talk, feeling very weird.

“It's a gathering place for all the AUs, a place where Sans’ can meet and chat peacefully, without threats. Since this place is where creativity can flourish, and since it is ‘my place’, I provide it as a neutral zone where we can simply hang out.” Ink explained.

“There are a few exceptions to this rule though. Error being one, of course. He cannot travel here, nor does he know how. A few AUs are also not allowed, since they are very unstable and are in cahoots with Error.”

“Um, sorry, I just need to ask this.” You butted in. Ink nodded, allowing you to continue.

“This is great and all, and I know that I'm sounding obnoxiously like a jerk, but why am I here? Why was I picked, why aren't I back in my universe? Why has all of this-” you gestured around in the air with your hands- “happened?” There it was. The question bugging you, out in the open. Everything was cobbling together, unraveling at the seams.

Ink paused after your questions, regarding you thoughtfully.

“Your universe,” he began slowly “was a new one, so to speak. It was a newly formed thought, out in the edges of the Multiverse, well made but without connections. Hence why I hadn't visited sooner.” Ink took a breath, looking excited but troubled, a strange combination. He leaned forward slightly.

“The first thing that happens when a universe is created is that the Sans within that universe emits a strong SOUL wavelength to draw me to it, to herd it into the connections and help it grow. Unfortunately, Error can sense it as well, and it seems that I wasn't fast enough.” Ink sighed.

“You see, Error has the ability to break apart the “code” of a universe, so to speak. He separates the Sans from it, sealing the lines. From there he destroys it, tearing it apart until it freezes. He then takes the now destroyed universe and “spheres” it, making a trophy of both the universe and the Sans.

“If a universe’s thought fades, then it fades too. I've seen my fair share of great AUs pass away from discouragement and self doubt. The ones Error has taken apart have been few, thankfully.”

“Wait, universes are thoughts? Thoughts from who?” You asked. Ink gave you an indecipherable look.

“They are from those out there, past the edges of even my sight. They are beings of incredible magic and power, able to conceive and give life to things, even if they themselves do not know it.”

“They sound pretty cryptic.” You commented.

“Cryptic? Possibly. Wonderful? Yes.” Ink replied, a faraway look in his multicoloured eyes.

“Anyways, back to what I was saying. Your universe-” Ink’s eyes darted from yours quickly.

“Your universe has been taken by Error.”

All of the air in the room disappeared. Your chest felt like it had been hit by a car (again). Gone. Taken. Your life, gone. Your friends, family, gone.

“The Sans.” You said, rasping.

“They're taken too, aren't they? Error has them, I'm the only survivor.”

“No, they're safe.” Ink said, shifting around.

“What?” You suddenly sat bolt upright in your chair, hands clenching at the fabric of your pants.

“Where are they then! Do I know them? Are they here?” You weren't the only survivor? Maybe there was hope?

“...” Ink looked at you, really looked at you, and you shivered. (music)

“... You don't get it, do you?” Ink’s voice was soft, sympathetic.

“Error is drawn to universes by the SOUL wavelength of the patron Sans. He ended up in your bedroom, attacking you.”

You stared in shock.

“Only Sans’ can pass through the Multiverse and enter other AUs alone.”

Emotion welled up in your throat.

“Only Sans’ have peculiar SOULs.” Ink smiled.

“Human, you are the Sans.”

You began to cry, choking up from happiness and helplessness.

Just then, a skeleton walked in. He had a white coat on with a red slash stain on it, and a long red-orange scarf wrapped around his neck. He had a weird fuzziness to his right eye and places on his body.

“Ink! There you are, I've been meaning to talk to…” He trailed off and noticed you.

“Hey, is that a new Sans?” He asked.

Cue more tears.

~

“Geno.” The skeleton introduced himself as after you were cried out and sitting at an island table, a cup of something called “Goldenflower tea” in front of you, and an overall worn out feeling.

“Of Aftertale.” He added as an afterthought. You nodded and told him your name, leaving it at that as you hadn't a clue what your universe was called, if it even had a name besides “your universe”.

This sans was different from the few you had met already. He was conversational and friendly, and pretty laid back. But he had an edge to him that you couldn't quite pin down. Well, besides the weird fuzziness around certain parts of his features and the red stuff smeared at the corner of his mouth. He was guarded underneath the layers of casualness.

You didn't probe, partially out of respect, but also because you didn't have a reason to. It didn't seem like a tale he'd tell you about if you did gather the courage to ask anyways.

Geno wasn't overly talkative, which you were appreciative of. He simply sat beside you, giving you space but providing the presence of at least someone.

You felt as if you had gone through a war.

The tea was warming your fingers, and you were blowing on it, to cool it down some. You decided that now was a good time to drink it, and you took a tentative sip of the warm beverage.

Your palate was overtaken with a warm rush, like you had just walked into a patch of sunlight. It lit you up from the inside, bringing heat to every part of your body. You jumped from the feeling, staring at the tea, wide eyed and amazed.

“Whoa wow, what was that?” You said.

“Goldenflower tea. It's imbued with magic, giving the drinker the feeling of warmth. It's a common drink in Monster society.” Geno said, appearing faintly amused by your reaction. You gave the tea a smile and took another sip, this time enjoying the feeling.

“There we go bud, there's a smile.” Geno’s own smile widened.

You laughed (laughed!) and sighed.

“Been through a lot.” You said.

“I can relate.” He replied.

And that was all there was said on the matter. You finished your tea and took another nap, aware of the presence of Geno and your new rank in the way of things.

It felt like a step from a sturdy bridge into the uneven marsh, but it was a step nonetheless. And it felt right as well.