The Surface

(Prologue)

Brittle brown leaves crunched underfoot as the woman came to stand at the edge of the crevice at the peak of the mountain. Cold air kissed her mottled skin and she smiled ruefully to herself, admitting to herself that this cold desolate mountain was the perfect setting for her passing. All she saw below her was darkness, its pitch black jaws patiently waiting to swallow her up. However, unlike most humans, it did not look unwelcoming to her. There seemed to be no end to the shadows hiding whatever the bottom may harbor within. It was a mystery with only one way to solve it, and she could not be happier to be that sleuth.

The day had been painfully long; after waking up long before the sun, she had taken her ancient rusted bike, packed what was dear to her, and left the vast metropolis she called home. As she journeyed the streets, sprinkling rust in her wake, she creaked to a stop at the stairway of an apartment building. She stared toward the upper levels until her eyes rested on an empty balcony, illuminated faintly by a flickering light pole. Would he miss her? Would he call when she did not come in morning to cook for him? Whatever happened, she could care less now; she placed her feet to the decrepit pedals and soldiered on. If he had cared enough to tell her weeks- no, months ago, she would be in bed still today. When he went looking for her today he would find no trace of her, nor would he ever; her apron was tied snugly around her waist and her frying pan dangled from her backpack, which was jam packed full of clothes, books, provisions and several other miscellaneous items associated with herself. She was almost sure that she wouldn't be needing her things, but she would be damned if she let him keep her things after she was gone. As if he cared.

By the time she arrived at the foot of the mountain the sun was beginning its descent. She'd observed the foreboding peak with little to no uneasiness about what she was going to do next. She'd heard things about the place, and none of the gossip traveling from person to person were at all benign. Rumors often circulated her part-time job, and from behind the stove, through the clouds of steam and the thick smell of cooked food, she heard the whispers.

"They were all sealed away there."

"Are they all dead?"

"Dunno, but people who go there… they never come back."

"Do they eat people?"

"Maybe, they killed humans years ago, who's to say they've stopped? All I know is that humans go up there, and nothing comes down here."

As much as many people tried, be it making excuses, denial, or switching subjects, the rumors were all true. The war between monsters and humans, occurring long before she was born, had resulted in the banishment of the creatures. They'd been sealed away in mountain by the best magicians, trapping them beneath the Surface. Though there had been no notification of their presence since being enclosed in the fissure of a prison, most were almost certain there was something living underneath. After all, why would there be random incidents circulating the mountain? People of various ages and backgrounds went missing without a trace; who could everyone blame BUT whatever resided underneath?

With tales like these, she couldn't think of a place more perfect. Stepping off her bike, letting the battered thing fall to the bed of dead grass on the ground, she began her long trek up to the fabled entrance. As she maneuvered through the trees and dense undergrowth, she was dismayed at the feeling of her thoughts melding together; she did not want to reminisce on her last memories. She wanted it to be over. No matter how hard she tried to take her mind off everything that had happened in the past year, like trying to comfort a lamb before its slaughter, it was futile. Why had it happened? It wasn't just her who asked this question; several… ALL humans, be it past, present or future had wracked their brains for the answer. It was a problem that never got an answer, for the solution could only be ruminated alone in tranquil solitude. So she did as leaves and sticks crunched softly under a pair of worn brown sandals; screw the autumn chill, not like it mattered.

As she neared the peak, she pondered it alone on the high altitudes, the questions being tossed around furiously in her mind. Why had it happened? Why did it have to be this way? Why did no one tell me until it was too late? Why did I have to remain instead? Why did she have to die? It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not FAIR.

Sans's eye sockets shot open, left socket flickering a violent electric blue. Had it been his imagination? It couldn't be, right? Maybe it had been another dream… maybe he should listen to his brother's incessant nagging and quit sleeping on the job. But how could he? He'd felt this before, not too many times but enough to become accustomed. Not again right? Not so soon after the last, it couldn't be, it just couldn't.

Yet he felt the next sign. To most monsters, they would have felt nothing and gone about their business. To Sans, it was like a vicious quake, unforgiving and frenzied, shaking him down to the core. He caught his breath, gripping the edge of his sentry post with a frigid bony hand. He steadied himself, his eye socket flashing aggressively; the spasms of pain in his skull were overwhelming, causing his ghoulish grin to even falter. There was no denying it; it wouldn't come now but he had felt it arrive. Something had fallen into the ruins.