The girl slashed though waves of monsters, turning them to dust. The grit coated her hands and face, and as she brushed it off her pants, a large shadow loomed over her, wicked horns and great claws. She looked up. It was Asgore, the monster king. He swiped down at her face, and she closed her eyes and prepared to die.
Frisk woke up sweating. She clutched her stuffed goat to her chest and breathed heavily, trying to calm down. It had just been a dream, that's all. Gerson had warned her she might get nightmares when she asked him about to tell her the story of when the humans and monsters fought, and she hadn't believed him.
Of course I won't, she had signed reassuringly- she didn't talk much, and mostly relied on sign language to get her point across. It was… easier. I never get nightmares. But she had.
Suddenly, a noise made her ears perk up. She peered over the side of her bed, and started to get up to find Toriel or Sans- she wasn't about to admit to Gerson that she had been wrong.
A voice from the darkness of her bedroom made her jump. "Howdy, Frisk. My name is Chara. I have a proposal for you." She felt the cold blade of a knife pressed up against her chin. The lights snapped on.
A figure, about her height, stood in the center of the room. They wore a green and yellow striped shirt and had light brown hair. They also sported a stadistic smile, and rosy red cheeks.
She looked down, and saw Toriel tied up near the person's feet, trying to yell through a gag. Her hands were in gloves, most likely suppressing her fire magic. The door was barricaded and sealed by some sort of dark magic, presumably preventing Sans, Undyne and the others from getting in.
Frisk started to cry, but stopped, meeting Toriel's eyes. Her gaze locked on to Frisk, and she smiled sadly. Seeing Toriel alive and okay filled Frisk with determination.
The figure spoke once more. "See, I don't have a soul of my own, or a corporeal body. I can use this knife, but other then that, I can't interact with the world around me. I exist in a state of flux, between life and death. But you- your soul- can change that. So, give me your soul, or I'll kill your mother. You do call her that, don't you?"
Frisk trembled, but stood her ground, and held her head high. Frisk knew if she gave this person her soul, everyone would die- not just Toriel. But if she kept it, Toriel would die. Frisk would have to reset. But at least she would be able to reset.
She shook her head no. Glaring at Chara, Frisk crossed her arms in defiance.
Chara chuckled. "Well, then. I guess I'll just have to take it from you!" They touched the tip of her knife, and it glowed blue, a sickly, grayish color. Touched it to Frisk, she grinned. "You're blue now. That's my attack. That's what Papyrus once told you, right?"
Frisk, in horror, saw that her soul was now deep blue. It pulsed with a dull light, not as bright as it used to be.
Suddenly, the knife whistled past her ear. Dodging at the last second, she stood alert, ready for another attack. And it came. Chara pulled knife after knife out, flinging them at Frisk as she sidestepped and ducked.
I won't fight you, She signed frantically. Stop it!
But Chara didn't stop. Suddenly, there was a knife pointed at her chest. It swooped through the air like a bird, honing in on her soul. It pierced her chest, and her soul cracked. Frisk collapsed, her determination gone. Chara had won this battle. And now Frisk's soul belonged to them.