Just Cause
An Undertale Fanfiction
Chapter 7: The Person I Was
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was (you are here)
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was (you are here)
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
Timeline 1
This is it.
A cloud of dazed, numb blankness flooded through Frisk’s mind, a fog that muffled every thought save a quiet inner whimper. It’s finally happened. I’ve finally died or lost my mind.
Their heart was still pounding from their long uphill run, and sweat streaked their tear-stained face in a slowly drying film. Their chest was heaving so hard that they were afraid the sound of it could be heard all the way from the surface, and dizziness swam through a mind that was struggling to process the reality that sat smiling a few feet away from them.
“Howdy! I’m Flowey. Flowey the flower! Hmmm… You’re new to the Underground, aren’tcha?”
The flower is talking to me. The big yellow flower talks.
“Golly, you must be so confused.”
Yes, Flowey, I am confused. You’re confusing me.
I’ve definitely lost my mind. Unless… this is what I should have expected?
The blossom was still talking, cheerfully ignoring their incredulous stare. “Someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do. Ready? Here we go!”
Ready for- what?!
A sudden tug jolted through their chest, and a lightning bolt of panic thundered down their spine. Strange white lines spread from the ground in front of the flower’s base, forming a box around the child, and their eyes went wide as a glowing red shape emerged from their chest.
“Wha- what is this?!”
“That heart is your soul,” the plant explained, his chipper voice a nonsensical contrast to this day’s surreal madness. “The very culmination of your being!”
“My soul?! Wh-why is it almost outside my body?!”
“Because I pulled it out, silly! Don’t worry, it’s still attached. I’m just doing this to help you get stronger!”
“Stronger? Why? What do you mean?” This is insane. This total stranger who’s also a plant is tearing my soul out to help me get stronger.
“Your soul starts off weak, but it can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.”
“LV? What does that stand for?”
“Why, LOVE, of course! You want some LOVE, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!”
“Y… you will?” Hope tried to rise through the fear, and only almost made it to the surface. “You mean… with hugs and stuff? And maybe… putting my soul back in my body?”
The way he was winking and sticking out his tongue was not reassuring.
“No, silly. Down here, LOVE is shared through little white… friendliness pellets.” Even as he spoke, glowing ovals rose into the air, spinning in a semicircle above his head. Their cold white light transfixed their target, and Frisk instinctively froze, waiting for them to make their move.
They don’t… feel friendly. And even if they are… “I… I don’t think I can make friendliness pellets.” What if he gives me some and then gets mad when I can’t give some back?
“That’s OK. I’ll just give you some of mine. Are you ready?”
No, they weren’t. They hadn’t been ready for anything that had happened in the last few hours, let alone this surreal, otherworldly madness.
But the pellets were already drifting toward them, and Frisk didn’t dare offend their source if they didn’t have to. “OK…”
“Great! Now, move around! Get as many as you can!”
A stumbling step brought them closer to the ominous fragments of magic, and their hand reached slowly toward the nearest one. Their fingers cautiously brushed its edge, and- “AAAAAAH!”
Agony blazed through their recoiling fingers, burning an electric trail down their arm and into their soul. Their hand jolted away from the pellet, and in the haze of pain that engulfed their senses, it took them a moment to realize that they’d fallen on their back, staring up at the ceiling through a blur of unshed tears.
And the flower was still talking.
“You idiot.” That once-cheerful voice had warped into a rough, crackling snarl, and his scathing words came in spurts, like a radio signal filtering into a half-broken receiver. “…this world… it’s kill or be killed.”
Of course.
The feeling of surreality bled away, leaving only empty, resigned acceptance. Of course it wouldn’t be a happy fantasy world of pretty talking flowers that love me. This world is still this world.
This really is what I should have expected.
A tide of numb, mute despair washed over their fear, and Flowey’s voice crashed over them in ruthless waves that pushed them ever further underwater. “Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?”
An opportunity to kill me? Is that really so good… that nobody would pass it up?
The thought was crushing, overwhelming in its horror and enormity.
How many people are in this world? Are all of them this much stronger than me?
And ALL of them… want me dead?
There’s… there’s no way to survive that. No reason to even try, if nobody wants me to live.
But… In the shadow cast by the flower’s words, a flicker of flame awoke. He could be lying. I’ve been lied to about monsters before.
I can’t give up yet.
The limpness fled from their shaking limbs, and in a frantic flurry of effort, they shoved themselves to their feet. A glance around them made Frisk’s heart sink, and their renewed desire to live sent fear pounding through their chest. I’m not ready to die yet, but his pellets are everywhere! There’s nowhere to dodge, and- they’re closing in!
As the deadly circle shrank around them, options raced through a mind that was threatening to shut down and freeze.
Can I jump over them? They look like they’re too big to go over or under, and I don’t think I can take another- uah?!
A second surge of power rushed through their chest, as potent as the last. But instead of hot and draining, this one was soothing and warm, like the fierce embrace of a mother pulling her child out of a fire.
In an instant, their strength returned in full, and shock exploded through Frisk’s mind as a bolt of fire flew across the clearing, striking Flowey squarely in the side and sending him flying.
And then the surreal feeling was back, along with a tide of confusion and wariness as a tall, inhuman woman hastened into view. Her worried face was covered in white fur and framed by long, floppy ears, and her purple robe rustled softly as she ran toward Frisk.
“What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth!” she exclaimed, slowing to a halt as the ethereal box shimmered out of existence. Her eyes softened as they fell to meet Frisk’s, and her mouth lifted in a smile that did its best to be reassuring despite its small, sharp fangs. “Ah, do not be afraid, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins.”
Don’t be afraid.
They wanted to do as they were told. They wanted to listen and be good.
But it was far too late for that.
In this world of “kill or be killed”, where passing up a chance to murder a child seemed to be temporary at best, Frisk wasn’t sure they would ever dare to not be afraid again.
~*~*~*~
She hasn’t tried to kill me yet.
The hard stone floor pressed into their legs and bottom, and the soreness that threatened to seep into their muscles felt like a distant anchor, barely rooting them to reality.
She just led me around and told me to do weird things, like talk to training dummies, and pull the levers she labeled, and prove that I can walk across long rooms by myself, and…
And she was proud of me.
That was the part that made their mind spin.
Even though the things she told me to do were really easy, she was still proud of me, and she tried to protect me from things that weren’t even scary, and she… held my hand…
Even now, they could feel Toriel’s huge, soft fingers wrapped gently around theirs, cradling them with protective affection that felt far more alien than her goat-like appearance ever could.
The world had turned completely surreal, and if it weren’t for the harsh memory of the flower’s attack rooting them to reality, Frisk might have thought they were dreaming.
As it was, they couldn’t help but wonder when the dream would end, and the waking world with which they were familiar would return to haunt them.
Their eyes traversed the cracked purple walls, searching for a clock or window, but all they could find was the occasional waterfall of leaves where a vine spilled out from the stone. They weren’t sure how long Toriel had been gone, but whatever “business” she had to attend to felt like it was taking forever.
Did she get lost? Is she dead?
Did she decide she doesn’t want me after all?
Did Flowey kill her?
Anxiety crawled through their gut, concern for Toriel mingling with a rising fear for themselves. Before, they’d always had the sun to warn them when curfew was imminent and they needed to go inside, but now…
Now, there was only a strange, twitchy tension, like they’d been out of the house too long and needed to go back before they got in trouble.
But that was absurd.
They couldn’t go back to that house. Not ever again.
Besides, if Toriel WAS still alive, leaving the room might upset her, and they didn’t want to risk that. She’d been fairly benign so far, but they’d seen what she was capable of.
Better a hard floor than a hard hit with a fireball. And it wasn’t like they had to keep sitting down.
Their weary legs had had some time to recover, and as Frisk pushed themselves to their feet, they were pleasantly surprised by how steadily they could stand. At least if I get attacked again, I might be able to run.
I wonder if I should call Toriel and make sure she’s OK. I’ve never been allowed to use a phone before, but she gave me this one, so it must be OK.
Unless I’d be calling too soon…
The phone paused its journey from their pocket, and their fingers clenched. What if I call too soon and I’m nagging her, and she gets upset because I’m taking too much of her time?
I should probably wait a bit longer. Maybe a couple more hours.
But what if Flowey-
Their train of thought lurched to a frozen halt, in tandem with their breath. Their trembling grip tightened on the phone, and fear flooded their body and mind as they stared at the shape that had appeared in the doorway.
From his place in the ground at the entrance to the room, the flower smiled up at them.
“Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?”
The sneering words echoed through their mind, and Frisk’s heart started trying to punch its way out of their chest, like a sailor scrambling to escape a doomed ship. Without thinking, they took a step backward, increasing the distance between the grinning plant and their vulnerable soul.
“In this world…”
They couldn’t wait for Toriel. In a choice between “might hurt me” or “definitely wants to kill me”, the safer path was obvious.
They just hoped the seemingly benign woman wouldn’t prove them wrong.
~*~*~*~
Not five seconds after they left the room, the phone rang.
The sound hit like a thunderbolt of panic, and Frisk jumped so hard that they nearly dropped the device. As their trembling hand pressed the phone to their ear, they nearly forgot to hit the ‘talk’ button in their focus on not letting the machine slip from their sweat-slicked grip. “Y-yes?”
“Hello? This is Toriel.”
Oh, no, oh, no, she’s gonna find out…
“You have not left the room, have you?”
“Auhh…” Well, yes, but only by a few steps, and it wasn’t too late to turn back…
Except that the flower had parked himself in the middle of the room, and he was still grinning at them.
“There are a few puzzles ahead that I still have yet to explain,” Toriel continued. “It would be dangerous to try to solve them yourself. Be good, all right?”
And just like that, she hung up, leaving Frisk strung across the bewildering gap between expectation and reality.
It sounds like she doesn’t want me to get hurt, but if she found out I was bad and didn’t listen, would she change her mind?
I should listen… I should be good… but…
But the flower was still there.
Maybe if I tell her the flower chased me out of the room, she’ll go easy on me.
I know the flower won’t.
~*~*~*~
I knew it. I knew reality would come back.
A gleaming magic fly grazed their arm, tracing a trail of fire across their skin, and a gasp raked through Frisk’s throat as they flinched away from it. In front of them, a Froggit stared blankly ahead, insect-shaped fragments of energy floating from its frog-like body and swooping toward the human.
I don’t understand why it’s attacking me. The other one didn’t, and I didn’t do anything different this time.
But maybe some people don’t need a reason.
The barrage ceased, and Frisk glanced toward the entrance of the room, where another Froggit sat staring into space. When they’d first approached it, it had given them advice about how to deter monsters without killing them, and had urged them to show mercy.
But now, the once-alert creature seemed oblivious to the unprovoked assault that was happening twenty feet away from it, and it made no such request for their opponent to spare them.
Is it because I’m human? Toriel said monsters might attack a human in the Underground.
But… what did humans do?
What did I do?
The scent of mustard seed wafted through the air, and Frisk’s assailant let out a soft ribbit, casting questioning glances to either side as if waiting for something to happen.
The child froze and held their breath, but the creature stayed in place, a look of confusion lingering on its broad amphibian features.
Does it even know why it’s doing this? It looks like it did that thing where you walk into a room and forget what you went there for.
Maybe if I do what Toriel said and have a friendly conversation, it won’t remember it was going to hurt me.
“Um…”
Its head snapped back toward them, and their heart slammed painfully against their chest as their breathing froze. I made it notice me, this is bad…
Come on, Frisk, focus and think… “Your, uh… flies are very pretty… when they aren’t running into me, I mean… um…”
Does it even understand what I’m saying?
It didn’t look like it did, but the lights in its dark, glossy eyes seemed to shine a little brighter. A few more flies drifted into the air, but they hesitated longer before swooping in, and their approach was slower than before.
It’s starting to look reluctant, so maybe… “Can we stop fighting now?”
For a moment, the creature stared at them, blinking slowly.
Then it turned and hopped away, leaving a faint clinking sound and a flicker of yellow in its wake. The gleam caught the child’s eye, and Frisk bent down, picking a pair of small gold coins off the ground. Is this money? “Um, you dropped… this…”
Oh… it’s gone.
Should I go find it?
An echo of pain throbbed through their arm where the fly had grazed it, and their fingers closed tighter on the coins. If I take the money, that’s probably stealing. I’d get in trouble, and I’d deserve it because I was bad.
But if I find the Froggit, it might remember it was going to hurt me, so I’ll be in trouble either way.
At least if it doesn’t find me, it can’t do anything to me.
The coins slid into their pocket, and Frisk tried to squash the guilt in their chest as they glanced around the room, confirming that their cash-dropping assailant was indeed gone. Sure enough, the only creature in sight was the monster who’d given them advice, and it was still staring at the wall as if the sum of its musing was written on the stone.
Decision solidified in Frisk’s mind, and they turned quickly toward the exit.
If the Froggit finds me again, I’ll give its money back. But I’m not going to get myself hurt just to give it the money it dropped while attacking me.
Wait…
Their foot froze in midair, confusion flooding their mind like a fog as their eyes returned to the room behind them.
How do I know it’s called a Froggit?
Their eyes snapped back to their amphibious adviser, its words and Toriel’s replaying in their head. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t remember when they’d heard what the creature was called.
Curiosity battled fear and won, and the child padded across the room, reclaiming the small monster’s attention with a careful wave. “Um, excuse me…”
“Yes, human?”
“Um… I was wondering… you’re a Froggit, right?”
A soft croak rose in its throat, and its chin dipped. “That’s right. It seems you’re learning about the monsters here.”
“Yeah, I… guess I am…” But who did I learn it from?
The child turned quickly to mask their confusion, and as they did, a second flash of gold caught their eye. This time, it was far larger, a four-pointed shape of light that spun above a pile of leaves. “Um, Froggit?” I hope I’m not annoying it by asking too many questions.
“Yes?”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, that?” Its eyes followed their pointing finger, and it gave a matter-of-fact croak. “That’s a wall. Or maybe you meant the pile of leaves.”
“I…” Can it really not see it? “I meant the yellow thing.”
“Oh, did someone drop some gold? Monsters do that sometimes. Usually when we’ve started a fight and then decided to stop. If someone you fought dropped some gold, you might as well pick it up.”
“Oh. Um… thanks.” I guess I’m not stealing after all. And it sounds like they start fights even when I’m not around.
Is it really just a thing they do?
That sounds pretty bad, but… even if they start fights easily, at least it’s easy to make them stop, and it sounds like they pay for your medical bills.
I’ll ask about that later. For now, I want to see what the invisible yellow star thing is. Is it something only humans can see?
Small, hesitant footsteps brought them to the edge of the leaf pile, and as their foot sank into the crinkling heap, a knife of nostalgia twisted in their heart.
I remember playing in leaves. It was one of the few things that used to make me happy.
Tears stung the backs of their eyes, and as fingers of fire gripped their throat, they bit the inside of their cheek, straining to stave off the tide.
I’m not going to cry. There were good times before, and maybe, if I can get through this, there will be some again.
Maybe it won’t feel right, but… at least it’s something to hold onto.
The wall blurred past them as Frisk let themselves fall, and the leaves rustled with the sound of a hundred memories as they caught the child in their brittle, soft embrace.
A tiny hand reached toward the star’s yellow glow, and a warm rush of comfort poured into their arm as their finger touched the light.
I don’t know why, but I feel better now. Like even if something bad happens, things are going to be OK.
Their eyes slipped briefly closed, and for a moment, the warm temptation of a nap in the leaves teased their tired mind.
Then a memory’s ominous whispers forced their eyes open, and their heart began to pound.
There, in the entrance of the room, Flowey was staring at them. His eyes were wide with surprise, and his mouth parted wordlessly, as if some vast realization had stunned him into silence.
Part of Frisk wanted to know what had caused the flower such shock. But their desire to live was louder.
With an urgent push, they burst free of the leaves, then bolted down the hall. A backward glance showed that their stalker hadn’t moved, but the thoughtful stare that followed them sent dread swirling through their gut.
Whatever he just found out, it’s probably important, but I’m not getting close enough to ask.
I just hope it isn’t bad.
Touching that star thing might have been a mistake.
~*~*~*~
“Here comes Napstablook.”
And there it goes again. Another name I shouldn’t know, but somehow do.
A shimmering specter hovered in their path, drooping features staring from a body that reminded them of their first attempt to dress up like a ghost.
It would have been comical, were it not for the facts that it completely blocked the narrow hall, and had gone from pretending to sleep on a leaf pile to trembling on the verge of tears.
I’ve never seen Napstablook before, but that voice in my head…
I don’t think this is the first time I’ve heard it. Just the first time I was listening close enough to notice.
Is it the ghost’s voice? It sounded like a kid my age, but kind of tired…
Do dead children turn into ghosts?
A flare of relief and hope blazed through them, and they smiled at the apparition. If this ghost is a dead kid, then maybe-
“Heh…” The sad premonition of a chuckle derailed their train of thought, and tears spilled from Napstablook’s glistening eyes.
Has nobody ever smiled at them before? They must be really lone-AGH!
A tear brushed their shoulder, biting into it like acid, and they flinched away with a cry. Even the tears around here hurt?!
Their legs stumbled into the familiar act of dodging magic, and they tried to divide their attention between watching the barrage and meeting the ghost’s woeful stare. “Please stop crying! I didn’t mean to make you sad – I just want to walk past you, so, uh…”
What should I say? I don’t think they want to hurt me, but if they keep crying, they might just kill me by accident.
I have to cheer them up. Maybe if I tell a joke about ghosts… if I know any… oh, I remember one! “Where do ghosts mail their letters? At the ghost office!”
Even as they watched their assailant’s face for signs of progress, a bolt of trepidation and regret shot through them. Wait, should I have let the ghost answer. But what if they got it wrong and got upset?
“Heh heh…”
Oh good, they’re starting to smile, and… write in the air?
Ethereal lines wavered in midair, a silent announcement that the ghost was “REALLY NOT FEELIN UP TO IT RIGHT NOW. SORRY.”
It was the strangest battle move they’d seen in this already outlandish day, but they weren’t about to upset Napstablook by saying so. “That’s OK,” they reassured them. “We can tell jokes when you are feeling up to it.”
“Oh… OK… if you want to… Uh… before you go, though… if it’s all right with you… can I show you something?”
“Uh, sure.” I hope it won’t be something painful.
“Let me try…”
Try wh- not again!
Liquid rose in Napstablook’s eyes, and Frisk braced themselves for another barrage. Their wide gaze followed the tears as they slipped free and fell…
Up? They’re falling up?
As swiftly as they rose, the drops of magic dissolved into mist, coalescing around their creator’s head to form a small, posh hat.
“I call it “dapper blook”. Do you like it…”
The apparition trailed off, as if too uncertain to even make the question sound like a question, in case they didn’t like the answer.
By now, Frisk was ready to automatically like anything that wasn’t an attack, just for not being an attack.
“Yes, it’s very… dapper.” And safe and un-attack-like.
“Oh gee…” Two final tears fell, slipping harmlessly past the child. The shimmering white barrier that had formed around them faded, bleeding a bit of Frisk’s tension away, and Napstablook sank to the floor.
“I usually come to the Ruins because there’s nobody around,” they murmured. “But today I met somebody nice. ...Oh, I’m rambling again. I’ll get out of your way.”
The shy specter faded from sight, and Frisk’s shoulders slumped with relief. That was weird, and it’s a bad sign when even tears can hurt me, but at least it was easy to make them stop.
Is everyone down here this nice and this dangerous at the same time?
Gentle eyes smiled serenely in their memory, and a shudder swept through them. Maybe I won’t have to make her mad. Given how powerful Toriel is, she might just kill me by accident.
Decision hardened in their soul, and their jaw and fingers clenched with resolve.
I have to keep going. No matter what, I have to get out of here.
I can do this. Just stay determined, keep dodging and being nice, and eventually, people will let me go.
And once I escape the Underground… well…
The frail branch of optimism cracked in their grasp, and their eyes fell to the newly unoccupied leaves.
The last two places I’ve been were too dangerous to live in.
I just hope the rest of the world won’t be the same.
~*~*~*~
“I’m trying to be nice about this! Please, just let me go!”
The rules had changed. Being nice wasn’t working anymore.
Their compliments were falling on deaf ears.
Their legs were getting too tired to dodge.
They’d found a ribbon on the floor, and the voice in their head had told them monsters wouldn’t hit them as hard if they looked cuter, but it seemed that the faded fabric couldn’t make them cute enough.
They’d considered fighting or trying to flee, but that had a history of not ending well.
And no amount of nonresistance seemed to placate their opponent. Even as they curled into a ball on the leaf-strewn floor, assuming the all-too-familiar position of a victim trying to wait out an assault, the Vegetoid continued to attack.
The carrot-shaped monster chuckled, a slit-eyed smile splitting its face like a celebration of the child’s impending death. “Plants can’t talk, dummy,” it claimed, and a flood of terrified frustration thundered through Frisk’s aching head.
“But you just did!” No, no, stupid! Don’t argue with it! You’ll only make it angrier!
As they’d feared, the Vegetoid responded by summoning a hail of magic from the ceiling, and Frisk curled up tighter as the produce-shaped bullets bounced around the room.
It’ll stop, won’t it? Maybe it’s just frustrated, or having a bad day… once it’s had enough, it has to stop.
A shimmering onion grazed their back, sending pain tearing through their spine. Terror pounded in their chest, and their eyes began to burn and blur as they glanced at the ethereal rectangle that showed their HP.
Five out of twenty… what happens if it reaches zero?
The Vegetoid cackled softly, and somewhere in the back of Frisk’s mind, that strange child’s voice whispered, “Vegetoid is here for your health.”
Then why is it hurting me? And who are you?
The ghostly voice fell silent, and Frisk clenched their fists in frustration before turning their questions to the Vegetoid.
“Why? Why are you doing this? What did I do wrong?”
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
Magic rained from the ceiling again, and Frisk wrenched themselves out of the defensive ball and forced their legs into a stumbling dodge. Attacks sped past them, driving them into a corner, and a ricocheting bullet struck them in the stomach, sending them reeling into the wall as they clamped a hand over their abdomen.
Seeing the movement, the Vegetoid smiled wider. “Want a healthy meal?”
I don’t know if I’d trust something it cooked, but if there’s a chance that that would make it happy enough to go away… “OK.”
“Eat your greens.”
They’d thought it would stop attacking and offer some food.
Instead, a rain of carrots plunged from the ceiling, one of them flaring a pale green.
Eat greens… It wants me to eat it? Should I?
Down here, is that how they…
A high, cheerful voice echoed in their head, halting Frisk’s progress toward the emerald bullet.
“Down here, love is shared through little white… friendliness pellets.”
No.
Suspicion blazed through their mind, and Frisk lunged away from the offered greenery. I’ve fallen for this before.
I’m not touching something a plant monster told me to touch. Especially not when it’s trying to kill me and laughing about it.
Down here, I can’t afford to be that trusting.
The Vegetoid cackled again, and the fear that had threatened to freeze their limbs began to heat into rage. Do you really think this is funny?
Two HP left. No margin for error. Once again, Frisk glanced to the side, considering an attempt to escape…
But what if that just made it angrier?
Trying to run away had only ever made hostile people angrier.
It’ll stop before it kills me, right? I mean, even he stopped before… at least, until…
No. Their eyes flinched shut and they shook their head, struggling to dislodge the images that threatened to drive them to their knees. No, I don’t want to think about that.
The seconds whirled around them like wind in a hurricane, blurring past in a blinding rush that drowned all attempts at rational thought. Options raced through their mind, fragments in the storm, and they struggled to grasp them long enough to weigh their pros and cons.
Running makes people angry, and it could catch me… being nice isn’t working… and Toriel was right, I don’t want to hurt anyone… there’s no food left to heal with… I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t… I don’t want to die…
Should I attack it? If I almost defeat it, maybe it won’t want to fight anymore, like the Froggit said… but what if it gets mad and attacks even harder?
Their fists clenched hard enough for their fingernails to hurt their skin, but not hard enough to keep their hands from shaking.
No. Being nice worked on all the other monsters. It has to work now.
It’ll stop. It HAS to stop. Maybe if I’d had a chance to be nice to the flower, it would have stopped, too.
I just have to survive long enough to calm it down. I’ll be good, like Toriel said, and convince it to stop.
“You’re, uh… very good at throwing vegetables, and… it’s great that you’re farmed locally – I mean, that’s a good thing, right?”
That was horrible, Frisk! You have to come up with something better!
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
The ceiling glowed white again, and Frisk’s voice rose to a terrified shriek. “No, wait! I’m sorry! I’ll do better! Please stop! Please!”
Their unheeded cry rang through the room, and panicked words spilled frantically forth as they darted between the falling carrots. “Why are you doing this? Please, just tell me why! Did I compliment you wrong? What did I do wrong?!”
A carrot narrowly missed their hand, and terror pounded through their pulse, drowning out every thought with its silent, rhythmic scream.
“Please stop! Please, PLEASE stop! Just tell me what I did wrong! I promise I’ll find a way to fix it – just tell-AAAAH!”
A too-sharp turn took their feet out from under them, and a frightened cry split the air as they fell in a flurry of displaced leaves.
An ear of corn plunged from the ceiling, and Frisk rolled frantically to avoid the attack…
Only for pain to tear through their head as a tomato ricocheted into the back of their skull.
A horrible cracking flooded their senses, as if the very core of their being had shattered like a stricken bone. In front of them, the vulnerable red glow of their soul split into pieces, and horror choked their gasping throat as they struggled to process the magnitude of this deadly catastrophe.
Their small, limp body slumped to the ground, and as their vision blurred into black, they caught a brief glimpse of their murderer, still smiling down at them.
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
“Why?” I know you can talk. I know you can hear me. So why… “Why do you… all of you…” Their eyes fell closed, years of unanswered questions building relentlessly into one final, broken whisper.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
~*~*~*~
We were really stupid… weren’t we, Dash?
This…
The brutal world had turned black, and the gravity that pressed their body to the floor had melted away, leaving their dazed, battered form floating in a void.
Their eyes slipped closed, blocking out the light of their damaged soul, the cruel irony of their fate drew a humorless smile to their lips.
This is what we were trying to escape to. A place that’s just as bad as the one we were leaving behind.
This is where our hope got us.
I guess… I’ll be seeing you soon.
And as for… no…
Memory sliced through their mind, and their eyes snapped open.
NO.
Determination blazed through their mind, and a flare of red scorched the darkness as their soul shone brighter.
No, it can’t end like this. I’m the only one who knows what happened. The only one who can do something about it.
I have to survive. I have to get out of here.
I have to keep holding on.
A voice was talking now, murmuring assent. A deep, unfamiliar, resonant tone, telling them it couldn’t end like this.
Commanding them to stay determined.
And somewhere in their wounded soul, something in Frisk rose to answer.
Yellow letters formed in the air, forming a pair of glowing words. Reset. Continue.
I don’t know why those are here, and I don’t know what it’s asking me to reset, but… I don’t want to.
I want to keep moving forward. I have to continue.
Their hand stretched toward the word, their fingers tingling as they drew close. Their reaching fingertips brushed the light, and as if in answer, it flared to life, golden light flooding the void in a surge of power and hope.
The pain flooded from their soul, and a blur of purple seeped through the glare, solidifying it coalesced into a familiar wall.
Suddenly there was stone beneath their feet, and orchid-shaded bricks on every side. A table sat ahead and to their right, and beside them, a flickering yellow star flashed as if in greeting.
That table… I’ve seen it before. This is where the mouse might come out and get the cheese.
Why am I here? Did I pass out? Did someone drag me back here?
Their mind spun in search of answers, struggling to reconcile what they’d experienced with a scenario compatible with reality.
That can’t be – I’m still standing up. Was I hallucinating?
A violent shake of their head did nothing to change their memories of the last few minutes, and their mind squirmed in the grasp of an impossible thought they could neither accept nor fully deny.
For a minute, I really thought I was dead.
But that can’t be true… right?
~*~*~*~
“Napstablook? You’re back here already?”
I just finished getting this ghost to move a few minutes before I d- …before I passed out. What are they doing back here already?
Just like before, the specter was saying “Zzzzz” loudly, their desperation to ward off any attempt at interaction at direct odds with their decision to park themselves in the middle of the path.
Visions of acid rain danced through Frisk’s head, and they set a careful foot on the leaves, hoping they could get past without disturbing the obstacle’s fake slumber.
“Oh noooo…”
Oh, no.
And just like that, Napstablook was hovering in the air again, blocking their path. Alarm and frustration clashed into a churning whirlpool in Frisk’s gut, but with an effort, they gave the dangerous roadblock a patient smile. “Hi, Napstablook.”
“Oh… oh, no… do I know you? You seem to know me… but I don’t remember you at all. I must seem so rude… oh noooooo…”
Tears poured from Napstablook’s eyes, and as Frisk fell into a familiar frenetic dance, questions reeled through their mind.
How can Napstablook not remember me? Did I just hallucinate that we met? Can the person who’s been speaking in my head show me things before they happen?
An acid tear grazed their head, jolting their thoughts painfully back to the demands of the present.
I can figure this out later. For now, I need to cheer them up.
“No, you don’t seem rude; just, um…” Just forgetful.
Did I really see the future? If so, maybe I can get them to- oh!
A hopeful revelation sprang to their mind, and Frisk’s smile became slightly more real. “Can you show me Dapper Blook again? That was pretty cute.”
“Oh, gee… I don’t know…”
There it was again, that written message in the air. Exactly like they remembered it. I really did see the future. That means I just have to cheer them up a little more.
“It’s OK,” the child reassured their accidental assailant. “You can show me when you’re ready.” Which will hopefully be soon.
“You really… want to see it?… OK… let me try…”
To Frisk’s great relief, the next rain of tears fell up, bending away from them to form the familiar dapper hat. “Do you… still like it?…”
“Yes, I do.”
“Oh… oh, gee…” Just as before, the ghost settled onto the leaf pile, staring happily up at the ceiling. “I usually come to the Ruins because there’s nobody around, but today I met somebody nice. ...Oh, I’m rambling again. I’ll get out of your way.”
That’s the same thing they said last time. It’s like I’m having the same encounter all over again.
As Napstablook faded from sight, a shadow of apprehension fell over Frisk’s mind.
If I have gained the power to see the future, I’d better stay away from that Vegetoid. I just hope it will let me.
~*~*~*~
How many of these awful carrot monsters are there?!
They’d managed to avoid the first Vegetoid, skirting carefully around the mess of viney hair that peered ominously out of the ground.
The second one had ambushed them from below, boxing them in before they realized it was there, and this time they hadn’t bothered trying to talk to it.
For a moment, they’d considered using the stick that they’d concealed in their pants on their way up the mountain, even though the thought of it made their hands shake.
But there had still been one other option, and in desperation, they’d tried it. The moment the magic box around them faltered, they’d rushed through the opening and out of the room, almost running into the wall as they glanced back to see if their foe was following them.
It wasn’t. Instead, it chuckled ominously as Frisk’s leg collided with something hard, and as they stumbled into the wall in the corner of the room, a moaning wail broke from their throat.
They’d tripped over a Vegetoid. And it had brought a friend.
The familiar lines of the battle box closed around them, and Frisk backed away from the leering plant and the horned cyclops creature that stood beside it.
I haven’t fought one of those before, they thought frantically, glancing from side to side. It looks more mobile than the Vegetoid. What happens if I try to run now?
Another anxious look at the round, staring monster revealed a row of teeth below its massive eye, and the mysterious but increasingly familiar voice commented, “Don't pick on him. Family name: Eyewalker.”
“Please don't pick on me,” the monster pleaded, and Frisk responded to the clear consensus with a hasty nod.
If that’s all it ta- WHAT?!
Trios of glowing white rings suddenly snaked toward them, writhing and undulating like fast inchworms, and one of them lanced across Frisk’s arm, drawing a yelp of pain. Vegetables poured from the ceiling, and one of them struck the child’s head in a burst of searing magic.
The bombardment ended, and Frisk pressed their mouth tightly shut, fighting the urge to whimper or point out that they hadn’t picked on Loox. Don’t talk, don’t move – that just makes them attack.
Their eyes strayed furtively to the exit, and their teeth dug into their trembling lip.
Is Toriel ever coming back? She’ll probably be mad at me for leaving the room, but maybe I can flirt my way out of it, like in the spy movies. That’s what flirting is for, right?
I’d flirt with the Vegetoid, but I already know what it will say.
A gap in the battle box caught their eye, and Frisk lunged without hesitation.
I should keep running. Loox has short legs; maybe I can outrun it.
If I can just find Toriel and convince her not to be mad, maybe things will be OK.
~*~*~*~
“Would you please just stop trying to kill me already?!”
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
So many Vegetoids. So many monsters. So many people trying to kill them.
And by now, Frisk was convinced they were succeeding.
Their HP had run out twice, and both times, they had felt their soul shatter in a blaze of blinding pain.
Each time, the same strange voice had spoken, telling someone whose name they’d never heard before that they had to keep going.
And then, as they thrust their hands into the light, they’d been dragged back into the world from which they’d fallen, returning to their senses at a point at which they’d felt encouraged or determined the first time they passed that spot.
Now, as a trio of Vegetoids hemmed them in and vegetables bounced wildly around them, it looked like it was going to happen again.
“How many times – uagh! – do I have to spare you or run from you before you get that I’m not your enemy?!”
The monsters cackled in unison, repeating their assertion that plants can’t talk, and Frisk’s teeth ground together as their hands shook.
I’ve tried being nice to them. I’ve tried running away. But they just keep hunting me, no matter what I do.
Are they going to do that as long as we live?
They glanced around for an opening to flee through, for a way to buy a few precious seconds before the next fight, but the futility of that option seemed to drain the strength from their legs.
Running away just delays the inevitable. I have to try something else. Maybe if I threaten them…
Their hand slid across their hip, dipping into their baggy pants and emerging with the stick. “Don’t make me hit you!” they warned, struggling to make the threat sound sincere. “I won’t hit you if you go away!”
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
“STOP SAYING THAT!”
Vegetables ricocheted violently around them, striking them twice as they struggled to evade, and wounded rage coalesced into a red, blinding haze.
The stick slashed through the air, slamming into the nearest monster, and Frisk’s hand jolted back as they realized what they’d done. Oh, no. NO, no… it’s gonna be so mad at me…
Numbers floated above the Vegetoid’s startled face, briefly distracting Frisk from their fear, and then the monster’s eerie smile reappeared. As the plants repeated their inane claims about vitamin A and where they’d been farmed, the child’s mind spun in circles around the strange numerals.
Those numbers… is that what it looks like when a monster’s health goes down? He told me I’d be able to see it once I learned how to sense souls, but I’ve never seen it before.
A hail of bullets filled the air and Frisk lunged into motion, their attention reeling between their assailant’s face and a barrage that was quick and dangerous, but no faster or fiercer than usual.
Does this mean the Vegetoid isn’t mad at me for hitting them? Are they even smart enough to understand that I was attacking them?
Do they not care? Or…
The bullets faded, and fingers of ice closed themselves around Frisk’s heart..
Could it be… that this is really such a “kill or be killed” world that attacking and being attacked is normal for them?
Their stomach curled in on itself, and their hands began to shake. I don’t want it to be like that. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Surely that can’t be the only way.
But if the world really is like that, and they’re never going to stop…
~*~*~*~
I can’t… I can’t believe I… I…
A trickle of blood fell from Frisk’s nose, staining the floor where a blow to the back had thrown them onto their face.
Pain and exhaustion flooded their body, clouding their mind and burning the backs of their eyes, and liquid warmth traced a path down their soft, scuffed cheeks.
On the ground at their feet, a stick lay where it had fallen from numb fingers, staring back at them with its sightless, accusing gaze.
And all around, on their shoes, the floor, and the weapon they’d used to commit the sin, was a thin coating of dust.
I can’t believe I did that.
Somewhere in the back of their mind, a flicker of anger whispered that the Vegetoids had deserved it. Even after being spared, the trio had returned, smiling and cackling and trying yet again to kill a person who had repeatedly returned their violence with mercy.
But far louder, closer to the surface, was a silent, disbelieving whimper.
I didn’t want to kill them. I didn’t want them to die.
But they weren’t stopping. Even after I was nice to them… even after I ran away… they just kept coming back.
They were never going to stop.
Sickness rose in their gut, and they had just enough time to stumble clear of the dust before their churning stomach emptied itself in a gush of spider cider.
They were never going to stop… they never stop… it’s never going to stop.
This isn’t who I want to be. But this world isn’t going to stop being this world, and if this is the way it is…
Do I have any other choice?
This is it.
A cloud of dazed, numb blankness flooded through Frisk’s mind, a fog that muffled every thought save a quiet inner whimper. It’s finally happened. I’ve finally died or lost my mind.
Their heart was still pounding from their long uphill run, and sweat streaked their tear-stained face in a slowly drying film. Their chest was heaving so hard that they were afraid the sound of it could be heard all the way from the surface, and dizziness swam through a mind that was struggling to process the reality that sat smiling a few feet away from them.
“Howdy! I’m Flowey. Flowey the flower! Hmmm… You’re new to the Underground, aren’tcha?”
The flower is talking to me. The big yellow flower talks.
“Golly, you must be so confused.”
Yes, Flowey, I am confused. You’re confusing me.
I’ve definitely lost my mind. Unless… this is what I should have expected?
The blossom was still talking, cheerfully ignoring their incredulous stare. “Someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do. Ready? Here we go!”
Ready for- what?!
A sudden tug jolted through their chest, and a lightning bolt of panic thundered down their spine. Strange white lines spread from the ground in front of the flower’s base, forming a box around the child, and their eyes went wide as a glowing red shape emerged from their chest.
“Wha- what is this?!”
“That heart is your soul,” the plant explained, his chipper voice a nonsensical contrast to this day’s surreal madness. “The very culmination of your being!”
“My soul?! Wh-why is it almost outside my body?!”
“Because I pulled it out, silly! Don’t worry, it’s still attached. I’m just doing this to help you get stronger!”
“Stronger? Why? What do you mean?” This is insane. This total stranger who’s also a plant is tearing my soul out to help me get stronger.
“Your soul starts off weak, but it can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.”
“LV? What does that stand for?”
“Why, LOVE, of course! You want some LOVE, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!”
“Y… you will?” Hope tried to rise through the fear, and only almost made it to the surface. “You mean… with hugs and stuff? And maybe… putting my soul back in my body?”
The way he was winking and sticking out his tongue was not reassuring.
“No, silly. Down here, LOVE is shared through little white… friendliness pellets.” Even as he spoke, glowing ovals rose into the air, spinning in a semicircle above his head. Their cold white light transfixed their target, and Frisk instinctively froze, waiting for them to make their move.
They don’t… feel friendly. And even if they are… “I… I don’t think I can make friendliness pellets.” What if he gives me some and then gets mad when I can’t give some back?
“That’s OK. I’ll just give you some of mine. Are you ready?”
No, they weren’t. They hadn’t been ready for anything that had happened in the last few hours, let alone this surreal, otherworldly madness.
But the pellets were already drifting toward them, and Frisk didn’t dare offend their source if they didn’t have to. “OK…”
“Great! Now, move around! Get as many as you can!”
A stumbling step brought them closer to the ominous fragments of magic, and their hand reached slowly toward the nearest one. Their fingers cautiously brushed its edge, and- “AAAAAAH!”
Agony blazed through their recoiling fingers, burning an electric trail down their arm and into their soul. Their hand jolted away from the pellet, and in the haze of pain that engulfed their senses, it took them a moment to realize that they’d fallen on their back, staring up at the ceiling through a blur of unshed tears.
And the flower was still talking.
“You idiot.” That once-cheerful voice had warped into a rough, crackling snarl, and his scathing words came in spurts, like a radio signal filtering into a half-broken receiver. “…this world… it’s kill or be killed.”
Of course.
The feeling of surreality bled away, leaving only empty, resigned acceptance. Of course it wouldn’t be a happy fantasy world of pretty talking flowers that love me. This world is still this world.
This really is what I should have expected.
A tide of numb, mute despair washed over their fear, and Flowey’s voice crashed over them in ruthless waves that pushed them ever further underwater. “Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?”
An opportunity to kill me? Is that really so good… that nobody would pass it up?
The thought was crushing, overwhelming in its horror and enormity.
How many people are in this world? Are all of them this much stronger than me?
And ALL of them… want me dead?
There’s… there’s no way to survive that. No reason to even try, if nobody wants me to live.
But… In the shadow cast by the flower’s words, a flicker of flame awoke. He could be lying. I’ve been lied to about monsters before.
I can’t give up yet.
The limpness fled from their shaking limbs, and in a frantic flurry of effort, they shoved themselves to their feet. A glance around them made Frisk’s heart sink, and their renewed desire to live sent fear pounding through their chest. I’m not ready to die yet, but his pellets are everywhere! There’s nowhere to dodge, and- they’re closing in!
As the deadly circle shrank around them, options raced through a mind that was threatening to shut down and freeze.
Can I jump over them? They look like they’re too big to go over or under, and I don’t think I can take another- uah?!
A second surge of power rushed through their chest, as potent as the last. But instead of hot and draining, this one was soothing and warm, like the fierce embrace of a mother pulling her child out of a fire.
In an instant, their strength returned in full, and shock exploded through Frisk’s mind as a bolt of fire flew across the clearing, striking Flowey squarely in the side and sending him flying.
And then the surreal feeling was back, along with a tide of confusion and wariness as a tall, inhuman woman hastened into view. Her worried face was covered in white fur and framed by long, floppy ears, and her purple robe rustled softly as she ran toward Frisk.
“What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth!” she exclaimed, slowing to a halt as the ethereal box shimmered out of existence. Her eyes softened as they fell to meet Frisk’s, and her mouth lifted in a smile that did its best to be reassuring despite its small, sharp fangs. “Ah, do not be afraid, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins.”
Don’t be afraid.
They wanted to do as they were told. They wanted to listen and be good.
But it was far too late for that.
In this world of “kill or be killed”, where passing up a chance to murder a child seemed to be temporary at best, Frisk wasn’t sure they would ever dare to not be afraid again.
~*~*~*~
She hasn’t tried to kill me yet.
The hard stone floor pressed into their legs and bottom, and the soreness that threatened to seep into their muscles felt like a distant anchor, barely rooting them to reality.
She just led me around and told me to do weird things, like talk to training dummies, and pull the levers she labeled, and prove that I can walk across long rooms by myself, and…
And she was proud of me.
That was the part that made their mind spin.
Even though the things she told me to do were really easy, she was still proud of me, and she tried to protect me from things that weren’t even scary, and she… held my hand…
Even now, they could feel Toriel’s huge, soft fingers wrapped gently around theirs, cradling them with protective affection that felt far more alien than her goat-like appearance ever could.
The world had turned completely surreal, and if it weren’t for the harsh memory of the flower’s attack rooting them to reality, Frisk might have thought they were dreaming.
As it was, they couldn’t help but wonder when the dream would end, and the waking world with which they were familiar would return to haunt them.
Their eyes traversed the cracked purple walls, searching for a clock or window, but all they could find was the occasional waterfall of leaves where a vine spilled out from the stone. They weren’t sure how long Toriel had been gone, but whatever “business” she had to attend to felt like it was taking forever.
Did she get lost? Is she dead?
Did she decide she doesn’t want me after all?
Did Flowey kill her?
Anxiety crawled through their gut, concern for Toriel mingling with a rising fear for themselves. Before, they’d always had the sun to warn them when curfew was imminent and they needed to go inside, but now…
Now, there was only a strange, twitchy tension, like they’d been out of the house too long and needed to go back before they got in trouble.
But that was absurd.
They couldn’t go back to that house. Not ever again.
Besides, if Toriel WAS still alive, leaving the room might upset her, and they didn’t want to risk that. She’d been fairly benign so far, but they’d seen what she was capable of.
Better a hard floor than a hard hit with a fireball. And it wasn’t like they had to keep sitting down.
Their weary legs had had some time to recover, and as Frisk pushed themselves to their feet, they were pleasantly surprised by how steadily they could stand. At least if I get attacked again, I might be able to run.
I wonder if I should call Toriel and make sure she’s OK. I’ve never been allowed to use a phone before, but she gave me this one, so it must be OK.
Unless I’d be calling too soon…
The phone paused its journey from their pocket, and their fingers clenched. What if I call too soon and I’m nagging her, and she gets upset because I’m taking too much of her time?
I should probably wait a bit longer. Maybe a couple more hours.
But what if Flowey-
Their train of thought lurched to a frozen halt, in tandem with their breath. Their trembling grip tightened on the phone, and fear flooded their body and mind as they stared at the shape that had appeared in the doorway.
From his place in the ground at the entrance to the room, the flower smiled up at them.
“Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?”
The sneering words echoed through their mind, and Frisk’s heart started trying to punch its way out of their chest, like a sailor scrambling to escape a doomed ship. Without thinking, they took a step backward, increasing the distance between the grinning plant and their vulnerable soul.
“In this world…”
They couldn’t wait for Toriel. In a choice between “might hurt me” or “definitely wants to kill me”, the safer path was obvious.
They just hoped the seemingly benign woman wouldn’t prove them wrong.
~*~*~*~
Not five seconds after they left the room, the phone rang.
The sound hit like a thunderbolt of panic, and Frisk jumped so hard that they nearly dropped the device. As their trembling hand pressed the phone to their ear, they nearly forgot to hit the ‘talk’ button in their focus on not letting the machine slip from their sweat-slicked grip. “Y-yes?”
“Hello? This is Toriel.”
Oh, no, oh, no, she’s gonna find out…
“You have not left the room, have you?”
“Auhh…” Well, yes, but only by a few steps, and it wasn’t too late to turn back…
Except that the flower had parked himself in the middle of the room, and he was still grinning at them.
“There are a few puzzles ahead that I still have yet to explain,” Toriel continued. “It would be dangerous to try to solve them yourself. Be good, all right?”
And just like that, she hung up, leaving Frisk strung across the bewildering gap between expectation and reality.
It sounds like she doesn’t want me to get hurt, but if she found out I was bad and didn’t listen, would she change her mind?
I should listen… I should be good… but…
But the flower was still there.
Maybe if I tell her the flower chased me out of the room, she’ll go easy on me.
I know the flower won’t.
~*~*~*~
I knew it. I knew reality would come back.
A gleaming magic fly grazed their arm, tracing a trail of fire across their skin, and a gasp raked through Frisk’s throat as they flinched away from it. In front of them, a Froggit stared blankly ahead, insect-shaped fragments of energy floating from its frog-like body and swooping toward the human.
I don’t understand why it’s attacking me. The other one didn’t, and I didn’t do anything different this time.
But maybe some people don’t need a reason.
The barrage ceased, and Frisk glanced toward the entrance of the room, where another Froggit sat staring into space. When they’d first approached it, it had given them advice about how to deter monsters without killing them, and had urged them to show mercy.
But now, the once-alert creature seemed oblivious to the unprovoked assault that was happening twenty feet away from it, and it made no such request for their opponent to spare them.
Is it because I’m human? Toriel said monsters might attack a human in the Underground.
But… what did humans do?
What did I do?
The scent of mustard seed wafted through the air, and Frisk’s assailant let out a soft ribbit, casting questioning glances to either side as if waiting for something to happen.
The child froze and held their breath, but the creature stayed in place, a look of confusion lingering on its broad amphibian features.
Does it even know why it’s doing this? It looks like it did that thing where you walk into a room and forget what you went there for.
Maybe if I do what Toriel said and have a friendly conversation, it won’t remember it was going to hurt me.
“Um…”
Its head snapped back toward them, and their heart slammed painfully against their chest as their breathing froze. I made it notice me, this is bad…
Come on, Frisk, focus and think… “Your, uh… flies are very pretty… when they aren’t running into me, I mean… um…”
Does it even understand what I’m saying?
It didn’t look like it did, but the lights in its dark, glossy eyes seemed to shine a little brighter. A few more flies drifted into the air, but they hesitated longer before swooping in, and their approach was slower than before.
It’s starting to look reluctant, so maybe… “Can we stop fighting now?”
For a moment, the creature stared at them, blinking slowly.
Then it turned and hopped away, leaving a faint clinking sound and a flicker of yellow in its wake. The gleam caught the child’s eye, and Frisk bent down, picking a pair of small gold coins off the ground. Is this money? “Um, you dropped… this…”
Oh… it’s gone.
Should I go find it?
An echo of pain throbbed through their arm where the fly had grazed it, and their fingers closed tighter on the coins. If I take the money, that’s probably stealing. I’d get in trouble, and I’d deserve it because I was bad.
But if I find the Froggit, it might remember it was going to hurt me, so I’ll be in trouble either way.
At least if it doesn’t find me, it can’t do anything to me.
The coins slid into their pocket, and Frisk tried to squash the guilt in their chest as they glanced around the room, confirming that their cash-dropping assailant was indeed gone. Sure enough, the only creature in sight was the monster who’d given them advice, and it was still staring at the wall as if the sum of its musing was written on the stone.
Decision solidified in Frisk’s mind, and they turned quickly toward the exit.
If the Froggit finds me again, I’ll give its money back. But I’m not going to get myself hurt just to give it the money it dropped while attacking me.
Wait…
Their foot froze in midair, confusion flooding their mind like a fog as their eyes returned to the room behind them.
How do I know it’s called a Froggit?
Their eyes snapped back to their amphibious adviser, its words and Toriel’s replaying in their head. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t remember when they’d heard what the creature was called.
Curiosity battled fear and won, and the child padded across the room, reclaiming the small monster’s attention with a careful wave. “Um, excuse me…”
“Yes, human?”
“Um… I was wondering… you’re a Froggit, right?”
A soft croak rose in its throat, and its chin dipped. “That’s right. It seems you’re learning about the monsters here.”
“Yeah, I… guess I am…” But who did I learn it from?
The child turned quickly to mask their confusion, and as they did, a second flash of gold caught their eye. This time, it was far larger, a four-pointed shape of light that spun above a pile of leaves. “Um, Froggit?” I hope I’m not annoying it by asking too many questions.
“Yes?”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, that?” Its eyes followed their pointing finger, and it gave a matter-of-fact croak. “That’s a wall. Or maybe you meant the pile of leaves.”
“I…” Can it really not see it? “I meant the yellow thing.”
“Oh, did someone drop some gold? Monsters do that sometimes. Usually when we’ve started a fight and then decided to stop. If someone you fought dropped some gold, you might as well pick it up.”
“Oh. Um… thanks.” I guess I’m not stealing after all. And it sounds like they start fights even when I’m not around.
Is it really just a thing they do?
That sounds pretty bad, but… even if they start fights easily, at least it’s easy to make them stop, and it sounds like they pay for your medical bills.
I’ll ask about that later. For now, I want to see what the invisible yellow star thing is. Is it something only humans can see?
Small, hesitant footsteps brought them to the edge of the leaf pile, and as their foot sank into the crinkling heap, a knife of nostalgia twisted in their heart.
I remember playing in leaves. It was one of the few things that used to make me happy.
Tears stung the backs of their eyes, and as fingers of fire gripped their throat, they bit the inside of their cheek, straining to stave off the tide.
I’m not going to cry. There were good times before, and maybe, if I can get through this, there will be some again.
Maybe it won’t feel right, but… at least it’s something to hold onto.
The wall blurred past them as Frisk let themselves fall, and the leaves rustled with the sound of a hundred memories as they caught the child in their brittle, soft embrace.
A tiny hand reached toward the star’s yellow glow, and a warm rush of comfort poured into their arm as their finger touched the light.
I don’t know why, but I feel better now. Like even if something bad happens, things are going to be OK.
Their eyes slipped briefly closed, and for a moment, the warm temptation of a nap in the leaves teased their tired mind.
Then a memory’s ominous whispers forced their eyes open, and their heart began to pound.
There, in the entrance of the room, Flowey was staring at them. His eyes were wide with surprise, and his mouth parted wordlessly, as if some vast realization had stunned him into silence.
Part of Frisk wanted to know what had caused the flower such shock. But their desire to live was louder.
With an urgent push, they burst free of the leaves, then bolted down the hall. A backward glance showed that their stalker hadn’t moved, but the thoughtful stare that followed them sent dread swirling through their gut.
Whatever he just found out, it’s probably important, but I’m not getting close enough to ask.
I just hope it isn’t bad.
Touching that star thing might have been a mistake.
~*~*~*~
“Here comes Napstablook.”
And there it goes again. Another name I shouldn’t know, but somehow do.
A shimmering specter hovered in their path, drooping features staring from a body that reminded them of their first attempt to dress up like a ghost.
It would have been comical, were it not for the facts that it completely blocked the narrow hall, and had gone from pretending to sleep on a leaf pile to trembling on the verge of tears.
I’ve never seen Napstablook before, but that voice in my head…
I don’t think this is the first time I’ve heard it. Just the first time I was listening close enough to notice.
Is it the ghost’s voice? It sounded like a kid my age, but kind of tired…
Do dead children turn into ghosts?
A flare of relief and hope blazed through them, and they smiled at the apparition. If this ghost is a dead kid, then maybe-
“Heh…” The sad premonition of a chuckle derailed their train of thought, and tears spilled from Napstablook’s glistening eyes.
Has nobody ever smiled at them before? They must be really lone-AGH!
A tear brushed their shoulder, biting into it like acid, and they flinched away with a cry. Even the tears around here hurt?!
Their legs stumbled into the familiar act of dodging magic, and they tried to divide their attention between watching the barrage and meeting the ghost’s woeful stare. “Please stop crying! I didn’t mean to make you sad – I just want to walk past you, so, uh…”
What should I say? I don’t think they want to hurt me, but if they keep crying, they might just kill me by accident.
I have to cheer them up. Maybe if I tell a joke about ghosts… if I know any… oh, I remember one! “Where do ghosts mail their letters? At the ghost office!”
Even as they watched their assailant’s face for signs of progress, a bolt of trepidation and regret shot through them. Wait, should I have let the ghost answer. But what if they got it wrong and got upset?
“Heh heh…”
Oh good, they’re starting to smile, and… write in the air?
Ethereal lines wavered in midair, a silent announcement that the ghost was “REALLY NOT FEELIN UP TO IT RIGHT NOW. SORRY.”
It was the strangest battle move they’d seen in this already outlandish day, but they weren’t about to upset Napstablook by saying so. “That’s OK,” they reassured them. “We can tell jokes when you are feeling up to it.”
“Oh… OK… if you want to… Uh… before you go, though… if it’s all right with you… can I show you something?”
“Uh, sure.” I hope it won’t be something painful.
“Let me try…”
Try wh- not again!
Liquid rose in Napstablook’s eyes, and Frisk braced themselves for another barrage. Their wide gaze followed the tears as they slipped free and fell…
Up? They’re falling up?
As swiftly as they rose, the drops of magic dissolved into mist, coalescing around their creator’s head to form a small, posh hat.
“I call it “dapper blook”. Do you like it…”
The apparition trailed off, as if too uncertain to even make the question sound like a question, in case they didn’t like the answer.
By now, Frisk was ready to automatically like anything that wasn’t an attack, just for not being an attack.
“Yes, it’s very… dapper.” And safe and un-attack-like.
“Oh gee…” Two final tears fell, slipping harmlessly past the child. The shimmering white barrier that had formed around them faded, bleeding a bit of Frisk’s tension away, and Napstablook sank to the floor.
“I usually come to the Ruins because there’s nobody around,” they murmured. “But today I met somebody nice. ...Oh, I’m rambling again. I’ll get out of your way.”
The shy specter faded from sight, and Frisk’s shoulders slumped with relief. That was weird, and it’s a bad sign when even tears can hurt me, but at least it was easy to make them stop.
Is everyone down here this nice and this dangerous at the same time?
Gentle eyes smiled serenely in their memory, and a shudder swept through them. Maybe I won’t have to make her mad. Given how powerful Toriel is, she might just kill me by accident.
Decision hardened in their soul, and their jaw and fingers clenched with resolve.
I have to keep going. No matter what, I have to get out of here.
I can do this. Just stay determined, keep dodging and being nice, and eventually, people will let me go.
And once I escape the Underground… well…
The frail branch of optimism cracked in their grasp, and their eyes fell to the newly unoccupied leaves.
The last two places I’ve been were too dangerous to live in.
I just hope the rest of the world won’t be the same.
~*~*~*~
“I’m trying to be nice about this! Please, just let me go!”
The rules had changed. Being nice wasn’t working anymore.
Their compliments were falling on deaf ears.
Their legs were getting too tired to dodge.
They’d found a ribbon on the floor, and the voice in their head had told them monsters wouldn’t hit them as hard if they looked cuter, but it seemed that the faded fabric couldn’t make them cute enough.
They’d considered fighting or trying to flee, but that had a history of not ending well.
And no amount of nonresistance seemed to placate their opponent. Even as they curled into a ball on the leaf-strewn floor, assuming the all-too-familiar position of a victim trying to wait out an assault, the Vegetoid continued to attack.
The carrot-shaped monster chuckled, a slit-eyed smile splitting its face like a celebration of the child’s impending death. “Plants can’t talk, dummy,” it claimed, and a flood of terrified frustration thundered through Frisk’s aching head.
“But you just did!” No, no, stupid! Don’t argue with it! You’ll only make it angrier!
As they’d feared, the Vegetoid responded by summoning a hail of magic from the ceiling, and Frisk curled up tighter as the produce-shaped bullets bounced around the room.
It’ll stop, won’t it? Maybe it’s just frustrated, or having a bad day… once it’s had enough, it has to stop.
A shimmering onion grazed their back, sending pain tearing through their spine. Terror pounded in their chest, and their eyes began to burn and blur as they glanced at the ethereal rectangle that showed their HP.
Five out of twenty… what happens if it reaches zero?
The Vegetoid cackled softly, and somewhere in the back of Frisk’s mind, that strange child’s voice whispered, “Vegetoid is here for your health.”
Then why is it hurting me? And who are you?
The ghostly voice fell silent, and Frisk clenched their fists in frustration before turning their questions to the Vegetoid.
“Why? Why are you doing this? What did I do wrong?”
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
Magic rained from the ceiling again, and Frisk wrenched themselves out of the defensive ball and forced their legs into a stumbling dodge. Attacks sped past them, driving them into a corner, and a ricocheting bullet struck them in the stomach, sending them reeling into the wall as they clamped a hand over their abdomen.
Seeing the movement, the Vegetoid smiled wider. “Want a healthy meal?”
I don’t know if I’d trust something it cooked, but if there’s a chance that that would make it happy enough to go away… “OK.”
“Eat your greens.”
They’d thought it would stop attacking and offer some food.
Instead, a rain of carrots plunged from the ceiling, one of them flaring a pale green.
Eat greens… It wants me to eat it? Should I?
Down here, is that how they…
A high, cheerful voice echoed in their head, halting Frisk’s progress toward the emerald bullet.
“Down here, love is shared through little white… friendliness pellets.”
No.
Suspicion blazed through their mind, and Frisk lunged away from the offered greenery. I’ve fallen for this before.
I’m not touching something a plant monster told me to touch. Especially not when it’s trying to kill me and laughing about it.
Down here, I can’t afford to be that trusting.
The Vegetoid cackled again, and the fear that had threatened to freeze their limbs began to heat into rage. Do you really think this is funny?
Two HP left. No margin for error. Once again, Frisk glanced to the side, considering an attempt to escape…
But what if that just made it angrier?
Trying to run away had only ever made hostile people angrier.
It’ll stop before it kills me, right? I mean, even he stopped before… at least, until…
No. Their eyes flinched shut and they shook their head, struggling to dislodge the images that threatened to drive them to their knees. No, I don’t want to think about that.
The seconds whirled around them like wind in a hurricane, blurring past in a blinding rush that drowned all attempts at rational thought. Options raced through their mind, fragments in the storm, and they struggled to grasp them long enough to weigh their pros and cons.
Running makes people angry, and it could catch me… being nice isn’t working… and Toriel was right, I don’t want to hurt anyone… there’s no food left to heal with… I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t… I don’t want to die…
Should I attack it? If I almost defeat it, maybe it won’t want to fight anymore, like the Froggit said… but what if it gets mad and attacks even harder?
Their fists clenched hard enough for their fingernails to hurt their skin, but not hard enough to keep their hands from shaking.
No. Being nice worked on all the other monsters. It has to work now.
It’ll stop. It HAS to stop. Maybe if I’d had a chance to be nice to the flower, it would have stopped, too.
I just have to survive long enough to calm it down. I’ll be good, like Toriel said, and convince it to stop.
“You’re, uh… very good at throwing vegetables, and… it’s great that you’re farmed locally – I mean, that’s a good thing, right?”
That was horrible, Frisk! You have to come up with something better!
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
The ceiling glowed white again, and Frisk’s voice rose to a terrified shriek. “No, wait! I’m sorry! I’ll do better! Please stop! Please!”
Their unheeded cry rang through the room, and panicked words spilled frantically forth as they darted between the falling carrots. “Why are you doing this? Please, just tell me why! Did I compliment you wrong? What did I do wrong?!”
A carrot narrowly missed their hand, and terror pounded through their pulse, drowning out every thought with its silent, rhythmic scream.
“Please stop! Please, PLEASE stop! Just tell me what I did wrong! I promise I’ll find a way to fix it – just tell-AAAAH!”
A too-sharp turn took their feet out from under them, and a frightened cry split the air as they fell in a flurry of displaced leaves.
An ear of corn plunged from the ceiling, and Frisk rolled frantically to avoid the attack…
Only for pain to tear through their head as a tomato ricocheted into the back of their skull.
A horrible cracking flooded their senses, as if the very core of their being had shattered like a stricken bone. In front of them, the vulnerable red glow of their soul split into pieces, and horror choked their gasping throat as they struggled to process the magnitude of this deadly catastrophe.
Their small, limp body slumped to the ground, and as their vision blurred into black, they caught a brief glimpse of their murderer, still smiling down at them.
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
“Why?” I know you can talk. I know you can hear me. So why… “Why do you… all of you…” Their eyes fell closed, years of unanswered questions building relentlessly into one final, broken whisper.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
~*~*~*~
We were really stupid… weren’t we, Dash?
This…
The brutal world had turned black, and the gravity that pressed their body to the floor had melted away, leaving their dazed, battered form floating in a void.
Their eyes slipped closed, blocking out the light of their damaged soul, the cruel irony of their fate drew a humorless smile to their lips.
This is what we were trying to escape to. A place that’s just as bad as the one we were leaving behind.
This is where our hope got us.
I guess… I’ll be seeing you soon.
And as for… no…
Memory sliced through their mind, and their eyes snapped open.
NO.
Determination blazed through their mind, and a flare of red scorched the darkness as their soul shone brighter.
No, it can’t end like this. I’m the only one who knows what happened. The only one who can do something about it.
I have to survive. I have to get out of here.
I have to keep holding on.
A voice was talking now, murmuring assent. A deep, unfamiliar, resonant tone, telling them it couldn’t end like this.
Commanding them to stay determined.
And somewhere in their wounded soul, something in Frisk rose to answer.
Yellow letters formed in the air, forming a pair of glowing words. Reset. Continue.
I don’t know why those are here, and I don’t know what it’s asking me to reset, but… I don’t want to.
I want to keep moving forward. I have to continue.
Their hand stretched toward the word, their fingers tingling as they drew close. Their reaching fingertips brushed the light, and as if in answer, it flared to life, golden light flooding the void in a surge of power and hope.
The pain flooded from their soul, and a blur of purple seeped through the glare, solidifying it coalesced into a familiar wall.
Suddenly there was stone beneath their feet, and orchid-shaded bricks on every side. A table sat ahead and to their right, and beside them, a flickering yellow star flashed as if in greeting.
That table… I’ve seen it before. This is where the mouse might come out and get the cheese.
Why am I here? Did I pass out? Did someone drag me back here?
Their mind spun in search of answers, struggling to reconcile what they’d experienced with a scenario compatible with reality.
That can’t be – I’m still standing up. Was I hallucinating?
A violent shake of their head did nothing to change their memories of the last few minutes, and their mind squirmed in the grasp of an impossible thought they could neither accept nor fully deny.
For a minute, I really thought I was dead.
But that can’t be true… right?
~*~*~*~
“Napstablook? You’re back here already?”
I just finished getting this ghost to move a few minutes before I d- …before I passed out. What are they doing back here already?
Just like before, the specter was saying “Zzzzz” loudly, their desperation to ward off any attempt at interaction at direct odds with their decision to park themselves in the middle of the path.
Visions of acid rain danced through Frisk’s head, and they set a careful foot on the leaves, hoping they could get past without disturbing the obstacle’s fake slumber.
“Oh noooo…”
Oh, no.
And just like that, Napstablook was hovering in the air again, blocking their path. Alarm and frustration clashed into a churning whirlpool in Frisk’s gut, but with an effort, they gave the dangerous roadblock a patient smile. “Hi, Napstablook.”
“Oh… oh, no… do I know you? You seem to know me… but I don’t remember you at all. I must seem so rude… oh noooooo…”
Tears poured from Napstablook’s eyes, and as Frisk fell into a familiar frenetic dance, questions reeled through their mind.
How can Napstablook not remember me? Did I just hallucinate that we met? Can the person who’s been speaking in my head show me things before they happen?
An acid tear grazed their head, jolting their thoughts painfully back to the demands of the present.
I can figure this out later. For now, I need to cheer them up.
“No, you don’t seem rude; just, um…” Just forgetful.
Did I really see the future? If so, maybe I can get them to- oh!
A hopeful revelation sprang to their mind, and Frisk’s smile became slightly more real. “Can you show me Dapper Blook again? That was pretty cute.”
“Oh, gee… I don’t know…”
There it was again, that written message in the air. Exactly like they remembered it. I really did see the future. That means I just have to cheer them up a little more.
“It’s OK,” the child reassured their accidental assailant. “You can show me when you’re ready.” Which will hopefully be soon.
“You really… want to see it?… OK… let me try…”
To Frisk’s great relief, the next rain of tears fell up, bending away from them to form the familiar dapper hat. “Do you… still like it?…”
“Yes, I do.”
“Oh… oh, gee…” Just as before, the ghost settled onto the leaf pile, staring happily up at the ceiling. “I usually come to the Ruins because there’s nobody around, but today I met somebody nice. ...Oh, I’m rambling again. I’ll get out of your way.”
That’s the same thing they said last time. It’s like I’m having the same encounter all over again.
As Napstablook faded from sight, a shadow of apprehension fell over Frisk’s mind.
If I have gained the power to see the future, I’d better stay away from that Vegetoid. I just hope it will let me.
~*~*~*~
How many of these awful carrot monsters are there?!
They’d managed to avoid the first Vegetoid, skirting carefully around the mess of viney hair that peered ominously out of the ground.
The second one had ambushed them from below, boxing them in before they realized it was there, and this time they hadn’t bothered trying to talk to it.
For a moment, they’d considered using the stick that they’d concealed in their pants on their way up the mountain, even though the thought of it made their hands shake.
But there had still been one other option, and in desperation, they’d tried it. The moment the magic box around them faltered, they’d rushed through the opening and out of the room, almost running into the wall as they glanced back to see if their foe was following them.
It wasn’t. Instead, it chuckled ominously as Frisk’s leg collided with something hard, and as they stumbled into the wall in the corner of the room, a moaning wail broke from their throat.
They’d tripped over a Vegetoid. And it had brought a friend.
The familiar lines of the battle box closed around them, and Frisk backed away from the leering plant and the horned cyclops creature that stood beside it.
I haven’t fought one of those before, they thought frantically, glancing from side to side. It looks more mobile than the Vegetoid. What happens if I try to run now?
Another anxious look at the round, staring monster revealed a row of teeth below its massive eye, and the mysterious but increasingly familiar voice commented, “Don't pick on him. Family name: Eyewalker.”
“Please don't pick on me,” the monster pleaded, and Frisk responded to the clear consensus with a hasty nod.
If that’s all it ta- WHAT?!
Trios of glowing white rings suddenly snaked toward them, writhing and undulating like fast inchworms, and one of them lanced across Frisk’s arm, drawing a yelp of pain. Vegetables poured from the ceiling, and one of them struck the child’s head in a burst of searing magic.
The bombardment ended, and Frisk pressed their mouth tightly shut, fighting the urge to whimper or point out that they hadn’t picked on Loox. Don’t talk, don’t move – that just makes them attack.
Their eyes strayed furtively to the exit, and their teeth dug into their trembling lip.
Is Toriel ever coming back? She’ll probably be mad at me for leaving the room, but maybe I can flirt my way out of it, like in the spy movies. That’s what flirting is for, right?
I’d flirt with the Vegetoid, but I already know what it will say.
A gap in the battle box caught their eye, and Frisk lunged without hesitation.
I should keep running. Loox has short legs; maybe I can outrun it.
If I can just find Toriel and convince her not to be mad, maybe things will be OK.
~*~*~*~
“Would you please just stop trying to kill me already?!”
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
So many Vegetoids. So many monsters. So many people trying to kill them.
And by now, Frisk was convinced they were succeeding.
Their HP had run out twice, and both times, they had felt their soul shatter in a blaze of blinding pain.
Each time, the same strange voice had spoken, telling someone whose name they’d never heard before that they had to keep going.
And then, as they thrust their hands into the light, they’d been dragged back into the world from which they’d fallen, returning to their senses at a point at which they’d felt encouraged or determined the first time they passed that spot.
Now, as a trio of Vegetoids hemmed them in and vegetables bounced wildly around them, it looked like it was going to happen again.
“How many times – uagh! – do I have to spare you or run from you before you get that I’m not your enemy?!”
The monsters cackled in unison, repeating their assertion that plants can’t talk, and Frisk’s teeth ground together as their hands shook.
I’ve tried being nice to them. I’ve tried running away. But they just keep hunting me, no matter what I do.
Are they going to do that as long as we live?
They glanced around for an opening to flee through, for a way to buy a few precious seconds before the next fight, but the futility of that option seemed to drain the strength from their legs.
Running away just delays the inevitable. I have to try something else. Maybe if I threaten them…
Their hand slid across their hip, dipping into their baggy pants and emerging with the stick. “Don’t make me hit you!” they warned, struggling to make the threat sound sincere. “I won’t hit you if you go away!”
“Plants can’t talk, dummy.”
“STOP SAYING THAT!”
Vegetables ricocheted violently around them, striking them twice as they struggled to evade, and wounded rage coalesced into a red, blinding haze.
The stick slashed through the air, slamming into the nearest monster, and Frisk’s hand jolted back as they realized what they’d done. Oh, no. NO, no… it’s gonna be so mad at me…
Numbers floated above the Vegetoid’s startled face, briefly distracting Frisk from their fear, and then the monster’s eerie smile reappeared. As the plants repeated their inane claims about vitamin A and where they’d been farmed, the child’s mind spun in circles around the strange numerals.
Those numbers… is that what it looks like when a monster’s health goes down? He told me I’d be able to see it once I learned how to sense souls, but I’ve never seen it before.
A hail of bullets filled the air and Frisk lunged into motion, their attention reeling between their assailant’s face and a barrage that was quick and dangerous, but no faster or fiercer than usual.
Does this mean the Vegetoid isn’t mad at me for hitting them? Are they even smart enough to understand that I was attacking them?
Do they not care? Or…
The bullets faded, and fingers of ice closed themselves around Frisk’s heart..
Could it be… that this is really such a “kill or be killed” world that attacking and being attacked is normal for them?
Their stomach curled in on itself, and their hands began to shake. I don’t want it to be like that. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Surely that can’t be the only way.
But if the world really is like that, and they’re never going to stop…
~*~*~*~
I can’t… I can’t believe I… I…
A trickle of blood fell from Frisk’s nose, staining the floor where a blow to the back had thrown them onto their face.
Pain and exhaustion flooded their body, clouding their mind and burning the backs of their eyes, and liquid warmth traced a path down their soft, scuffed cheeks.
On the ground at their feet, a stick lay where it had fallen from numb fingers, staring back at them with its sightless, accusing gaze.
And all around, on their shoes, the floor, and the weapon they’d used to commit the sin, was a thin coating of dust.
I can’t believe I did that.
Somewhere in the back of their mind, a flicker of anger whispered that the Vegetoids had deserved it. Even after being spared, the trio had returned, smiling and cackling and trying yet again to kill a person who had repeatedly returned their violence with mercy.
But far louder, closer to the surface, was a silent, disbelieving whimper.
I didn’t want to kill them. I didn’t want them to die.
But they weren’t stopping. Even after I was nice to them… even after I ran away… they just kept coming back.
They were never going to stop.
Sickness rose in their gut, and they had just enough time to stumble clear of the dust before their churning stomach emptied itself in a gush of spider cider.
They were never going to stop… they never stop… it’s never going to stop.
This isn’t who I want to be. But this world isn’t going to stop being this world, and if this is the way it is…
Do I have any other choice?
Author's note:
If you want to read my original novels, you can find them here.
If you'd like to help me publish new chapters faster, please consider supporting me on Patreon or Ko-fi so I can spend more time writing stories and less time doing other things to make money.
Author's note:
If you want to read my original novels, you can find them here.
If you'd like to help me publish new chapters faster, please consider supporting me on Patreon or Ko-fi so I can spend more time writing stories and less time doing other things to make money.