Frisk snuggled into the blue jacket. She liked it. It was warm and soft. Although she preferred it better in blood. Of course, she'd never say it aloud. Sans and she were napping on the couch, a good pastime for the peaceful yet exciting Neutral Run. She breathed and looked up. Sans heavy eyelids were closed, and his breathing was steady and deep. He was asleep. This was her last chance. She could back out now and live her life surrounded by family and friends who loved her and cared for her.
If Frisk went along with her plan, there was no going back. The stain of Genocide was irreversible. She knew that. Yet somehow, he forgave her. Frisk had worked so hard to build this sense of trust and here she was planning on breaking it. She looked at her bag. Papyrus had bought it for her from the shop. It was weird what she was using it for. She quietly got off of the couch and walked to the kitchen. She opened a drawer and pulled out a knife. Frisk glanced at the clock. It was twelve-thirty. It was night.
Papyrus was sleeping. Frisk walked to the stairs. She climbed them, each step bubbling with anticipation. She reached the top and took a deep breath. Frisk opened the door to Papyrus's room. He was dozing in his racecar bed, a childish choice of furniture. She hopped on his bed. Papyrus woke and said sleepily, "OH, HELLO HUMAN! HOW ARE-" Frisk muffed his mouth with her hand and revealed her knife.
"Okay, Papyrus this is how it's going to work. Sans is going to disappear and you're not going to say ANYTHING. Or," Frisk raised the knife to her neck, "I'll make sure to send his remains in the mail. Okay"
Papyrus's fearful and teary face nodded. Tears strung down his face. Frisk let go of his mouth. "Good, that's good," she murmured, "Oh, and watch the mail. I've got something for you."
Frisk glided down the stairs and grabbed her bag. She popped open the bottle chloroform. She dropped some on a dish rag from the kitchen. Frisk headed to the couch where Sans was still sleeping. He breath in and out, his chest moving up and down. She still didn't understand how that happens. She climbed back onto the couch and shoved the rag into Sans' smile. His eyes shot up and stared in shock. Her scream was snuffed out and his eyes closed. Frisk let go of the rag and tossed it aside. Frisk picked up her bag and put it at her side. She braced herself and grabbed the hoodie of his jacket and pulled him off the couch. He was much lighter than she expected. She dragged him on the floor, opened the door and dragged him outside. Her choice was made.