A/N: Before we start, let me just say this was inspired by Silent Hill, one of my favorite game franchises. This story will share elements of the Otherworld. This is a re-imagining of the genocide run, but more nightmarish and intense. Enjoy the story. And also, this is my first fanfiction on this website.

It was as if a painter colored the world black. The sky and ground was seemingly invisible to anyone left living in the forsaken world. This world was plunged into the depths of madness, but with nobody to share it's influence with. The fall was inevitable though, but who knew it could have started with such an innocent child. A child that had such an important burden. In the eternal darkness lay a human.

To their side, stood a lost spirit. It's face was frozen in place, in that eerie static that replaced the features on the spirit's face. He stares at his hands, dust caressing the soft skin that it laid on. The living embodiment of guilt sat there, ignoring the ash that fell from the non-existent sky.

Their name is Frisk.

And they regretted their decisions.

Light. A warm and bright light. Gold. Golden flowers grazed their skin. Brown. Brown hair appeared in their vision. Their eyes open, excepting to see someone. But nobody came. Their eyes glance towards their arms. Surprisingly, no cuts were present, which was very strange. They had just plummeted down the mountain. The forbidden mountain.

All of it was repeated.

Curiosity is an evil thing. It's like a venomous snake injecting you with emotion. Curiosity and their determination worked as a team. They would try something. Something new. Something so inexplicable that nobody would expect. After all, the fall had been inevitable.

'My name is Frisk.'

Frisk's hand groped for their trusty stick, whom they had used previous times. Their hands eventually grabbed ahold of something. Something unlike the feeling of wood. Steel. Their hand wrapped around the handle.

The spirit stood beside them. Her serene smile faded into a emotionless face. The air surrounding them grew thick with the realization that stung Frisk with fear.

A knife.

They examined the knife. One jab from the weapon would be fatal. A decisive blow would instantly turn a monster to dust. The reflection in the mirror seemed as if their face mocked them. Frisk left the weapon on the floor, and he could slightly see the spirit's smile return. The two walked to the door. Across the purple-pillared doorway, there was the flower.

That flower.

"Howdy! I'm FLOWEY! FLOWEY the FLOWER. Hmmm...you're new to the UNDERGROUND, aren'tcha? Golly, you must be so confused! Someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do. Ready? Here we go!"

The world around them blacked out. Their eyes focused intently on Flowey as he looked at their SOUL.

"That is your SOUL, the living embodiment of-"

"Enough."

"Huh? Did you just talk?" Flowey's face grew sour with annoyance.

Frisk walked towards the doorway, passing the yellow flower on the way. It now replace its face of annoyance to one of confusion.

"Answer me."

They turned around and glared hatefully at Flowey. Flowey could faintly see the flash of red in their eyes. The unnerving tension that formed between them made the helpless flower disappear, descending into the ground. Over the doorway, Frisk's eyes were laid on the object stabbed into the floor.

The knife.

They were baffled as they looked to their side. The spirit frowned, her bangs obscuring the eyes they had never seen. Frisk took one last glance at the weapon as they walked to the next room. Although they entered the next segment of the area, they found that they were in the same room. The knife was on the same spot in the room. Frisk walked on the path to the next room.

The same room.

Frisk started to run. Each desperate attempt to get to the next room was met with disappointment as their eyes focused on the sharp knife embedded on the purple path.

'What the hell is going on?'

They eventually walk towards the knife. Each step they took closer to the weapon made their shoulders heavy, like a weight had been laid on them. They snickered at the thought of gravity betraying them. Frisk kneeled down on one knee as their hand felt the familiar feeling of the cold handle on their fingertips. They were suddenly hit with a feeling unlike any other. White blinded his vision.

"What do think it is?"

"What do you think it is, Rei?"

"A knife?"

"No kidding."

"Hey, what are you doing?...Don't touch it, do you know how Mom and Dad would react if you had a weapon in your hands?"

"Calm down, I'm just...looking at it."

"...Let's go, I think I see the flowers nearby."

"Okay."

"Don't bring that thing..."

"Child, are you okay?" A familiar voice rang out.

Frisk opens their eyes. The spirit is gone. They look at the woman before them. Toriel. She stares down at them, a look of concern on her face. They slowly nod as they stood up.

"I saw you here, unconscious. Here, let's go to my home."

Toriel grasped their hands as she led them to the next room of the area. He quickly looked at the spot where the knife laid.

The knife was nowhere to be found.

"Here, I'll give you a cellphone. You can contact me anytime you need me. I'll be running some errands. You stay put here until I am finished, okay?"

Frisk nodded.

"See you later, my child." Toriel ruffled their hair before leaving the room.

They walked through the Ruins, ignoring the same scenery. Boredom seeped into every pore of their body. They stopped. A Froggit initiated a battle with the human. Their hands hover above the ACT button as he proceeded his usual routine. They stopped and stared at the button on the far left.

FIGHT.

They had never made mention of the option on their numerous journeys through the Underground. They contemplated the morbid ideas in their head. They tried to shake them off, but they couldn't help to think how would they attack. Would they use a projectile? Would they use their stick? Hell, would they use their bare hands? Curiosity is one hell of a motivator. They had a choice. FIGHT or SPARE. The wheel of fate made them decide their destiny.

Frisk's body lunges forward against the helpless monster. Their hands swing sideways. Their face was immediately hit with dust as the Froggit's head flew in the air. The lower part of its body dissolved into a pile of dust, along with its head. They stared at their hands. Dust coated his hands as tears start dripping from their eyes.

'I...I killed...'

Frisk stares at the knife in their hands. Their reflection stared at him, not mockingly, but it seemed to be congratulating them. Like a baby having its first steps. They looked at the wall on their left. The walls were peeling off, revealing rust in a relatively crimson red color. The newly shed dust rained in drops as the room was plunged in the same condition as the ruined wall. The falling dust eventually covered the wall they looked at, revealing words.

"All your fault."

Frisk laughed. They didn't cry tears of remorse. No, these were tears of joy. They felt a hand on their shoulder. They looked up, and the spirit stood next to them, a new smile appearing on her one depressed face.

"Let's go."

Frisk sat up. Their eyes quickly look at their hands. No dust. They stand up and start walking. The rooms were all empty, not a single monster appearing out of the shadows. They imagined an eerie ambience heard in the rooms. This was strange. Froggits, Whimsuns, Migosps, and numerous other monsters would usually ambush them. Here, there was silence. Also, no signs appeared while they began their walk towards the next room.

They stopped as they saw the stairs leading down. They had never seen a room with stairs leading down. Their phone (which they forgot) received a voicemail. They quickly fished the phone out of their pocket and listened to the message.

"Hello, my child. Where are you? It has been hours since I last saw you. I have sent 4 voicemails to you, but you have not answered any of them. Are you lost? Call me. I hope you get home safely. Goodbye, my child.

Frisk was confused. They had been gone for, what he presumed to be, hours? What was going on right now. There was the repeating room, the knife, the hallucination, and the nightmare. What could possibly come next? They dialed in Toriel's number and pressed the phone to their ear.

"Hello?"

The sound of TV static blared in their ear. They lowered the phone and heard the sound of a woman in the speaker.

"Fr...i...k...p..lea...e...ru...n."

Frisk looked to their side as the walls peeled away again.

'What is wrong with me?'

They heard the sounds. The sounds of the monsters inhabiting the Ruins. Dust started to pool down the room behind them. The piles of dust pressed against each other. They turned into the shape of the monsters, Froggits, Migosps, Whimsuns, and the others.

They started their pursuit against the petrified human.

Frisk started their descent down the stairs, using his phone to light the way. The stairway stretched down, the horrific sounds of the dust monsters making them run faster. They never turned around, afraid to see the monsters' faces. Frisk was beginning to tire out, but they kept going, adrenaline and their determination keeping them going. The stairs never disappeared. The monsters got closer, and Frisk was starting to accept his fate.

They were going to die. They knew they killed the monsters. They knew this was some sort of karmic justice. They let Death take them in his boney hands, and closed their eyes.

Light.

Frisk opened their eyes. It was one of those stereotypical "light at the end of the tunnel" moments. One that fueled them with determination. They galloped. They could practically feel the dust monsters' breaths on their shoulder. They jumped out of the stairway, falling on the floor. Frisk picked themselves up and looked back.

The dust monsters dissipated into piles of normal dust. It blew away as the wind picked it up. They were home. The tree towered above them. There was an inscription carved into the tree.

"Are you prepared to take this path?"

The spirit stood beside me. She stared at them with a smile as they walked into Toriel's home. Next to the passageway was the familiar object, coated in dust. Another message appeared on the wall.

*But nobody came.