Frisk sat on the edge of the human camp, staring into the mouth of that cavern. It seemed like it was calling their name, but they knew that it was dangerous. All sorts of terrible monsters lived in that place. They had been told that the monsters were ruthless, and if they fell and somehow survived, the monsters would immediately kill them. They sighed, resting their chin on their hand, tapping their heavy boots to a beat only they could hear. The humans and monsters had been locked in war for as long as they could remember, and the camp Frisk was stationed at was to make sure no monsters would climb out of the peak of Mount Ebott. Restlessly, they stood up, deciding to take a walk around the mountain to think. Whoever their parents were had been killed by monsters, and Frisk had been taken in by a training camp. They knew the basics of fighting, how to swing a sword, what common monster's magic attacks were, and, above all, how to kill a monster.
They had been sent many times to try and kill monsters that had made it out of the Underground by stealth or strength alone, but each time, they refused to raise their sword and swing. Frisk's camp, realizing that Frisk wasn't good at fighting, quickly sent them away to where they thought Frisk would be useful. The first opening to the Underground at the top of Mount Ebott. It was easy enough. If any monsters decided to try their luck and climb up, the humans would quickly and easily kill them or knock them back into the Underground, that hellhole of savage monsters... Or, at least, that was what they had been told monsters were like. A shout made Frisk snap out of their thoughts, whipping around to see one of the humans pointing at them and shouting something. They realized that they were nearly at the edge of the pit, and began to step back, trying to keep their footing. Out of nowhere, something whipped out of nowhere, making the wind sing before it grabbed Frisk's leg. They yelped, trying to see what it was. A green vine, wrapped thickly with blood red thorns made Frisk glad that they were wearing their thick boots. It ripped the legs of Frisk's pants to shreds though, and it began to pull them.
More shouts came from the human's camp, and Frisk grabbed on to a brown root, their hands clawing for holds to try and keep the vine from dragging them down in to the Underground. Frisk didn't want to go down there. Everyone said the monsters were savages, dangerous beings hell bent on destroying humans, and Frisk was at their mercy. The vine tugged harder, and Frisk cried out in pain, their leg feeling like it would tear cleanly off. Frisk let go of the root, deciding it would probably be best to try and keep their leg as long as they could. It would at least make their death in the Underground less painful. Frisk was silent as they fell into the Underground, the vine unwrapping itself from their leg and disappearing. The light from the mouth of the cave fell away quickly, and Frisk was shocked. Everyone said that death was supposed to be when you got flashbacks of your life. But they got nothing, merely the frantic beating of their heart and the distant shouts from the camp far above.
Frisk closed their eyes, accepting their death. It wasn't a good life. They didn't know who their parents were, they were beaten for not being strong enough, for not being able to kill a monster. All their life, they were told that they were useless at fighting, told how easy it was to kill a monster. It wouldn't take any effort at all. Just raise the sword and swing. The wind, ripping into their clothes and hissing in their ears as they fell, farther, farther into the Underground stopped suddenly as Frisk impacted the ground. The breath was knocked out of their lungs, and they started to gag and cough, trying to breath. What had happened? Were they dead? Gasping for breath, they sat up slowly looking down at what they had fallen into. Golden flowers. Frisk looked around the room, noting how dark and dreary it looked. The golden flowers were the only life in this place, and right away, Frisk knew that they definitely weren't dead and in some paradise when they tried to stand up. They stumbled, falling to their knees in the golden flowers, sent into another fit of coughing. The taste of blood in their mouth nearly made Frisk throw up, as they wheezed and gasped for breath. Specks of dark red splattered onto the golden flowers, and Frisk felt like crying. They had fallen down, and they were going to die a long, painful death.
Frisk felt their chest, and tried their best not to burst out screaming when their hands sent a burst of fiery pain shooting through them. They had landed on their back hard, and one of their ribs had cracked. Unsteadily, spots appearing in their sight, Frisk stood up, holding their side. They limped towards a dark purple doorway. Perhaps there would be someone in there to help them, but, deep in their heart, they knew that the monsters were savages. Nobody could help them, and nobody would. Blood streamed down their right leg, the one that had been ripped by the vine, leaving a trail behind as they stumbled through the doorway. They tried their best to ignore the bleeding, but it was hard when your leg felt like it was burning, yet felt wet at the same time. Firmly, Frisk told themselves not to look at it, for it would only make it worse, and stumbled into another clearing. They raised an eyebrow in spite of the pain they were feeling, suppressing another fit of coughing. "Well, howdy there! It's a fine day for a slow and painful death, isn't it?" A small, bright red, orange, and yellow flower said, a smug smile on its face. Frisk stumbled closer, and the sneer grew a little bit bigger. "Not much for talking, are you? No matter. I can see that you said yes. But anyways, welcome to the Hellhole! ... Oh, excuse me. I meant the Underground." It chattered, and, if Frisk didn't have a bad feeling about this before, they definitely did now.
"I'm Flowey. Flowey the Flower. Nice to meet you." Flowey said, leaning forward as Frisk walked closer to it. At this point, Frisk could see the red thorns on Flowey's stem, and a strong urge to kick the thing came over them. They started to crouch down to eye level with Flowey, but he raised a leaf to stop them. "Oh, don't do that. It'd only make it harder for you to get up, wouldn't it? And as fun as it would be to watch you try to get up, I'm not fond of listening to children scream. Besides, you don't want to attract monsters that aren't as happy and kind as I am, huh?" He said, the smile on his face widening. When Frisk didn't respond, merely gritting their teeth and holding on to consciousness, Flowey sighed. "Thanks for the blood though. Human blood is good for the leaves. But anyways, I think someone should teach you how things work down here in the Underground!" Flowey straightened up. "Down here, we share strength through these little things called... Steroids." Flowey said, and nearly burst out laughing. "No, no, I'm kidding! We share strength, and heal people through these little... 'Pellets.' See them?" Flowey explained, gesturing to the white pellets that were conjured from his magic.
Frisk nodded, impressed. They liked watching monster magic. As dangerous as everyone said it was, it was fascinating to them. "Sometimes, we play games to catch as many of these as possible." Flowey said. "It's not only fun, it makes you stronger, and heals you! Go around, try to get as many as possible!" Flowey cheered, and the pellets began to float at Frisk, who nervously stretched out a hand. They were probably going to die anyways, so they figured, why not take this risk of accepting what could be healing from this friendly looking monster? But the second their hand touched the little white pellet, they regretted it immediately, as a burning sensation seared through them, making them fall to their knees with a yell. Spots danced around their vision as they stared up at Flowey, whose face shifted and warped into a hideous smile.
"You really are an idiot. You sick humans have trapped the monsters in the Underground, and you expect mercy? That's hilarious. I don't care about getting out of here. I care about getting entertainment from the idiots who fall down into here. And I don't get to see too many humans often." Flowey said. Around Frisk, vines burst out of the ground with an explosion of dirt. "You see... In this world, there's nothing called mercy. In this world, the name of the game is to kill... Everything." Flowey hissed, the vines raising to pierce their way cleanly through Frisk. A shout echoed into the room, and a look came over Flowey. "I'll finish you later." He said, before disappearing into the ground. The vines fell limp and useless around Frisk, who curled into a ball, ready to accept their death. A clink of armor and heavy boots came from the direction the shout came from. With a clank and the swish of fabric, something knelt beside Frisk. Frisk shook as a hand rested on their side. Panic rushed through them, and they let out a yelp.
"Be quiet, human!" A woman's voice that sounded as if the kindness in it had been hardened snapped. A burning sensation coursed through Frisk from where her hand rested, but they resisted the urge to scream, so stern was the voice that commanded them to be quiet. Their breathing slowly eased as the burning ceased, and with another clank of armor, the woman stood. "Get up." She commanded, and Frisk scurried to stand. When they got up, they realized that their leg was no longer bleeding, the blood merely drying on their legs and pants. Spots no longer danced in front of their eyes, and their breathing wasn't ragged. "I healed you." She explained, and Frisk looked up at the person in front of them in awe. Certainly, this couldn't be one of the barbaric monsters that they had been told about. This monster was stunning. The way their body looked reminded Frisk of a goat, but it wasn't just that. This woman wore a circlet, and the gems in the circlet were in the shape of an odd rune, that Frisk noticed that she wore on many other places on her body. On her cheeks were two arrows pointing up, and one in the middle of her face pointing down. She wore silver armor, that looked like it had been roughly polished, and a pair of old looking leather pants. She wore heavy looking boots, and shoulder pads from which hung a cape, on which was emblazoned the rune. Her horns were decorated with two plain gold bands, and she sighed, stamping her foot.
"What are you staring at?" She asked. "It's like you've never seen or killed a monster before..." She said, her tone sounding accusing. Frisk shook their head, and she sighed again. "I am Toriel. I am the guardian of this place, called the Ruins. Defenseless monsters too young or too old to fight the uphill battle against you humans are kept here until they are able. Come on." Toriel ordered Frisk. "Oh... And if you make any sudden moves with that toothpick you call a sword, I'll have run you through." She said, but Frisk was confused. She wore a belt with a holder for the hilt of a sword, but no blade was on it. Frisk knew better than to ask about it, as Toriel had a very imposing air about her, and Frisk wouldn't want to have any run-ins with her anytime soon. As they walked, Frisk could see young, curious monsters quickly run away from a simple glance from Toriel. Was Toriel a ruler down here? Maybe she was cruel and that was why the monsters ran from a mere look that she gave them? Frisk quickly put that thought out of their head as they watched Toriel explain a puzzle to them. If she was cruel, she wouldn't be the guardian of these young and old monsters, and she wouldn't have spared them. "Down here, monsters won't hesitate to attack you. Excuse us if we feel like killing the race that trapped us in here." Toriel muttered. "But I suggest you don't fight back. Besides... They'd snap your sword in half and then what would you do? Use some mercy, human."
Frisk nodded, though they weren't sure why she was telling them this. Toriel held out an arm, making her cape swish out like a wing. "Hold up. This is another puzzle... But I don't believe I should leave you to try and solve it by yourself." Toriel said. She turned, and her gaze chilled Frisk to the bone, but she reached down to grab their rough hand and walk them along. She led Frisk across a bridge, laced with spikes. But as they walked, certain spikes on parts of the bridge withdrew themselves so they could pass safely. When they reached the end of the bridge, she let go of Frisk's hand, but they sensed that her grip felt like she didn't want to let go. "... I've nearly forgotten the time... Listen. I have a meeting with someone. I'd prefer you to stay here, but you may explore the Ruins. If any monster attacks you... Use some mercy. And if I've found that you've killed anyone, I will do more than deal with you." She said, before walking off, leaving Frisk alone, flabbergasted.
This place was strange. Definitely strange, but the monsters here weren't savage like Frisk had been told. Actually, Frisk had been told many things by the humans, most of which had been proven wrong. They didn't kill Frisk on sight, apart from that weird flower, and one of them even healed their wounds. Frisk watched Toriel leave, listening to her steps in the distance. Who the person Toriel had left to meet mystified them as well. Maybe there were other really imposing monsters in the Underground. Who knew. Frisk waited a few minutes before getting up, deciding they wanted to explore.
"you're late. and i thought i was the lazy one."
Toriel sighed, crossing her arms and staring down at the short skeleton who had plopped himself in her reading chair. "cozy place ya got here. but anyways... what did you want me for?" He said, fiddling with his black gloves.
"There's a camp of humans set around the Exit. I'd like you to eliminate as many humans as you can. And could you not get killed?" Toriel said sternly.
"and my payment would be...?" He asked, giving her a devious smile, his left eye already starting to glow in his excitement.
"Five-hundred Gold, just as always, Sans. Oh, and if there are more camps than just that one, I might consider giving you Seven-hundred." She muttered.
Sans shrugged, standing up, putting the hood of his light gray-blue jacket up. "good enough." He pulled a black cloth with a large smile painted onto it around his face, covering his nose and mouth, before walking off. "pleasure doing business with you." He said, before going into her kitchen. When Toriel looked in there, he was gone, like he was never there.
The wind nearly tugged Sans' hood off as he stumbled out onto the surface. He took a deep breath through his mask, savoring the air of the surface as much as he could before going home. Sans crouched down behind a large boulder he had teleported behind, hearing voices. "How many did you get yesterday?" A man was saying. Someone else replied: "Oh, ten. There was dust everywhere. Better get those maids with their feather dusters, eh?" He said, laughing. The first man snorted. "Bullshit! There were only five in that last attack... But this war seems like a big waste of time to me. We can easily go and flush those monsters out. It wouldn't take any time at all."
Sans gritted his teeth, his eye glowing blue. Not yet. He put a hand over his left eye, listening for the perfect moment to strike. The voices steadily grew louder, and the sounds of footsteps crunching through the brown grass were audible. "I've a mind to take one of those monsters for myself! Maybe get... Information?" One of them said. "I've seen a few bunny girls in that cold snowy place!" The other one replied. How disgusting. Humans were disgusting. Sans, his heart pounding, listened, harder. Just a little bit closer... And... Now! Sans sprung out from behind the rock, his eye flaring up blue. A streamlined blaster appeared in front of him when he clapped his hands, and a beam of light cut through the dark, covering the two men's screams with the ear-drum shattering boom from his blaster.
"Easily done." Sans said, before running to the blaster and jumping onto its head. It rose into the air, carrying him to the human camp Toriel had told him about. It was stationed close to the Exit, and Sans could hear shouts coming from the camp. He could barely hold in his laughter as the blaster swooped in low, nearly running over two humans as he tried to get the humans clumped into a group for him to easily shoot all at once. "Come at me you sick bastards!" He taunted. A few arrows whizzed by him, all of which he easily avoided by dodging them, or the blaster speeding faster. Archers, their arrows aimed at him, were grouped together to make a whirlwind of arrows go his way. The wind whistling in his ears, he laughed, stamping on the blaster's head, making its jaw open as the arrows let loose. He lay low and clamped his hands over his ears as a beam blared out of its maw, disintegrating not only the arrows, but the archers that fired them. The sound was deafening, and Sans thought about making blasters that were quieter. He was an assassin, after all. An axe spun by him, catching him off guard. He caught it with his magic. "Woah there. Getting a little..." He threw the axe, and it spun, hitting its mark perfectly, decapitating a human. "A-HEAD of ourselves there?"
Sans laughed as his own joke, before letting loose another blast from the jaw of the blaster, easily killing yet another line of humans. It didn't take long before the entire camp was completely obliterated, nothing but a smoldering wreck left to show that anyone was there at all. Sans stared down at his work, the blaster floating and giving him a bird's-eye view of the destroyed camp.
"... five hundred gold in the bag."