Prologue:

Long ago, two races ruled over the earth: humans and monsters. They lived together in harmony for years, but as time passed, humans grew to trust the monsters less and less. The monsters were powerful beings, and their power made the humans paranoid. Paranoia grew to distrust, and in a short amount of time thousands of years of friendships and alliances were ignored and forgotten. War erupted.

What the humans didn't realize was that while the monsters were powerful, they were also weak. The monsters didn't stand a chance against the humans, and their loss in the war was inevitable. Once the humans were victorious, they sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell.

Time passed. Weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and years turned to generations. The monsters settled Underground, and they tried desperately to escape their prison. But nothing worked. The claustrophobia of the caverns became too much for the monsters, and it slowly drove each and every one of them mad. Many of them completely gave up and gave in to the madness, but others fought it and continued to try to escape.

Their lives were all completely altered when a young girl fell into their world.

Many years later:

Frisk was growing quite tired of sitting with her sister by the river bank. It was a particularly hot day, and Frisk was beginning to hate all of the skirts and the wool stockings that she had to wear. She began to miss the days when she could run around in the meadows by their house, barefoot. But of course, that was when she was much younger, and she didn't have to worry so much about being a proper young lady.

Frisk went to her older sister to see what she was reading. Her sister sighed in annoyance as Frisk peered over her shoulder to peek at the book in her hands.

"Frisk, if you would like to read, you should bring your own book."

Frisk wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I don't see how you can read that. It doesn't have any pictures."

Her sister scoffed. "My dear sister, there are a great many works of literature without pictures."

Frisk sighed and sat down next to her. "Well, in my world, all the best works of literature are nothing but pictures."

"Your world?"

"Yes, my world. A world where animals talk and wear clothes and live in cute little towns, the flowers talk and sing, and every day is a celebration. In my world, I can do whatever I want."

"Well, I'm sorry, Frisk, but this isn't your world, it is our world. The real world."

Frisk folded her arms. Her sister went back to reading. "I'm bored," Frisk whined.

Her sister sighed. "What do you expect me to do about that?"

Frisk sighed, then stood and said, "I want to pick daisies."

"Alright. Then go pick daisies."

"Would you like for me to make you a crown?"

"Yes, that would be lovely," she said tiredly.

"Alright." Frisk turned and began to walk away to a nearby field that she had seen earlier. To her glee, she found that there were indeed small patches of daisies blossoming in the green. Frisk went to kneel in the grass and began to pick the biggest and prettiest ones, one by one. As she picked the daisies, she daydreamed about her world and pondered many things, like what the animal's houses would look like and what a flower with a face would look like.

Frisk was a very curious and imaginative child, which was both her strength and her weakness. While her imagination had always gotten her out of sticky situations and her curiosity would lead her to ask many questions and explore many things, the two combined had gotten her into trouble more often than not. She was beginning to be about the age when her mother and older sister started telling her to get her head out of the clouds and focus on more important things, like her studies. She found it difficult to focus on her studies, though, when it was all so boring. She read through all of the books that she was assigned, but never found any entertainment in them when they had nothing to do with magic or fairy tales and would put off reading them for as long as she could.

The only person who seemed to approve of Frisk's imaginative ways was her father. She would often go to him to describe all of her ideas and wonders, and he would listen contently, with a smile.

"My, Frisk," he had said once while patting her head, "you describe these things so vividly, perhaps you should write all of them down. You could create a story from them and be a great fantasy writer someday." Frisk tried to do that more than once, but always lacked the patience to write everything down.

As she was picking daisies, her process was interrupted when she heard a soft rustle in the grass in front of her. She looked up and saw a white rabbit with bright pink eyes nibbling at the grass. Frisk grinned and knelt even closer to the ground so that she could creep up to it and get a closer look at it. As she crawled on her hands and knees towards the rabbit, (not paying any mind to the dirt she was getting on her blue dress or white apron or striped stockings), she wasn't as quiet as she wished she could be. She made the grass rustle, and that caught the rabbit's attention. The rabbit looked up at Frisk, its tiny nose twitching. She must have looked like a stalking cat to it, because it quickly bolted away into the brush. Frisk discarded the daisies she had in her hand and stood to follow the rabbit, calling, "Wait! Mr. Rabbit! Come back, I didn't mean to frighten you!" She followed it through the brush and into the woods, running after it, until it disappeared into a hole at the base of a tree.

Frisk stopped and peered inside the hole. It was a rather large hole; much larger than any rabbit hole she'd seen before. Big enough for her to fit in, even. Frisk looked around.

"Well," she thought, "I certainly must have given that rabbit quite a fright. Wait a minute…" Frisk interrupted herself when she saw a golden glow deep inside the tunnel of the rabbit hole. "How curious…" She got on her hands and knees and proceeded to crawl inside and follow the tunnel to inspect the golden glow. The earth was cool under her hands as she ducked beneath roots that hung from the ceiling of the tunnel. She felt her way through the tunnel, eyes straining to watch the dim golden glow. She eased her way through the tunnel until it came to an abrupt end with another hole that went straight down. "Goodness," Frisk said aloud, her voice echoing faintly in the hole before her. "Why, if it weren't for that light, I would have fallen in." She leaned close to the ground and peered inside. "It must be a rather deep hole. But what could possibly be making that light?" She leaned in further and strained her eyes. Yes, the glow was definitely coming from down there, but what could be making it?

Suddenly, the ground that she was resting on gave way, and before Frisk could save herself, she fell down the hole.