A/N: Why am I starting a new story? Because I am a terrible person with terrible focus, and this idea will not leave me alone.
Anyway, this story is going to get crazy dark, and I dont mean the usual teenage angst bullshit, I mean genuine fucking darkness. The kind that makes you cry, scream, and hide in terror. Deaths, breaking people, and losing yourself. I do not deal with tiny conflicts such as cutting or mild depression, I deal in the really fucked up stuff.
That said, I also love comedy and there will be plenty of moments of levity in this story... except for a certain part. After that, dark humor for a while and back to heartwarming and levity.
Frisk stared down the hole, into the abyss of Mt. Ebott. It was well known that people disappeared on this mountain, but it was the only safe place for him right now. He needed to hide, somewhere that he could not be tracked. The sheer paranoia of this mountain was strong enough to keep all potential threats away, so he had chosen it specifically for that reason.
Staring into that hole, however, Frisk felt the urge to just jump. His life was over anyway. That fire took most of the town away, his parents, his friends, everyone. He had only survived by being out of town those years ago. He had spent the time since on the run, being blamed for the fire, even when he was not there. It did not matter to anyone, they just wanted someone to blame for the tragedy, some scapegoat to blame and punish.
His trait being Determination did not help. Each trait was associated with a certain kind of person. Justice for any form of law enforcement. Patience for... well, any custom servicing job, really. Determination, though? It was associated with dictators, sociopaths, and any sort of terrible human being imaginable. People loved to forget it was required to do anything extraordinary, and stuck with those negative perceptions instead.
He was not depressed. He was not suicidal, not really. He had thought about it before, only in a question of how it would truly affect the world if he were to die. That thought had only made him more determined. He needed to do something with his life, not just run from his problems. If he were to just be some unimportant weakling doing nothing... he would rather die. Determined as he was, he felt the longing to be with those he had lost. Magic could do many things, but bringing the dead back to life is not one of them. Especially not for a soul of Determination. Determination was a very... strange trait in terms of what it could do with magic.
Of course magic itself was pointless for Frisk to wonder about, since he had never gotten a chance to learn any. He knew it existed, and where he may have learned it, but... well, between the discrimination for being a Determined Soul, and the blame of the fire, he had no chance.
Frisk sighed. He hated this kind of life, always on the run, and always hiding. He used to get into fights, but being hunted was a new feeling. Not that he did not know of ways to end this silly hunt, but he had no chance to do so until he was able to reach the capital and explain the situation. It was too far though, he could only run, but everyone else was so equipped with magic... Fists would not help here either, he could only ever run.
Still staring down the abyss, Frisk clenched his fists, enraged at his own powerlessness. No, if he was going to die, it would be on HIS terms, not a bunch of idiots using him as a scapegoat. Not due to discrimination, but because he decided to. He wanted... freedom.
With no more hesitation, he took the plunge.
His life passed before his eyes, all the misery and injustices he had ever faced, along with all the hope he saw in everything... His parents, loving as they were, telling him he was special. His friends helping him, and him helping them in exchange. The various fights he got in from the bullying. The discrimination that dismissed him from becoming a mage. The hopelessness of being hunted for a crime he could not have done.
Those thoughts brought only more, all about what his future would have held. He could be a great leader, a researcher, or just enjoy himself as a mage. He would not have wanted a simple life, but it would have at least been a life. He could have ran, taken down his hunters and become a great assassin from that shift in his life. He could have befriended them and convinced them he was not at fault. He could have done so much... Why had he taken that step? He no longer knew.
The last thought that entered his mind before he blacked out was perhaps the strongest, most powerful thought he had ever had.
'I WANT TO LIVE!'
When he awoke, he was surprised to find himself alive, but even moreso to find himself... safe. He was in some cavern with buttercups, of all things, all over the ground, almost like a garden. Well, he hoped the ancient legends about monsters living in the mountain were wrong. He remembered the tales vividly. A single monster had absorbed the soul of a human, though no one knew whether the human was willing or not. The new hybrid took down several of the most powerful mages at the time before it was finally stopped. Even though that threat was stopped, there was too much fear, too much loss from the hybrid for anyone to be trustful of the Monsters afterwards. There were a few different stories about what happened to the Monsters, but the general consensus was that ancient humans were too distrustful and eventually a war began between the two, leading to their destruction, or relocation.
Frisk remembered his father talking about the legend of the Monsters being sealed in Mt. Ebott. It was only passed down orally, for fear of the knowledge becoming widespread, but it was something Frisk hoped was true at the time, having always wanted to meet a dragon.
Frisk stood up, his body oddly... fine. No soreness or broken bones that he thought such a fall should have provided. On second thought, maybe he was dead and this was some afterlife. It did not matter either way. He had to move forward.
So he did. The very next room, odd as it was that there were rooms in the first place, he encountered... something.
"Howdy!" Oh, it was a talking flower... He was really tempted to scream and stomp on it, but it was not a spider, so he resisted. "I'm Flowey, Flowey the Flower."
"Hello. Where am I?" Frisk's speech was, as always, short and to the point. His thoughts were another matter, always distracted by random ideas and amusing thoughts.
"You're in the Underground silly!" The Flower was really laying on the excitable idiot mask, wasn't he? "Golly, since you are new here, how about I teach you how things work down here?"
That... did not sound good. It sounded either very threatening in a mafia-style way, or very... discomforting, as in 'stranger walking you home'.
"Here in the Underground, we communicate through LOVE." Definitely the latter, then. "Would you like some LOVE? We share it through little white... friendliness pellets." Oh dear god he was about to get molested by a flower.
"No, actually, but I can offer you some weed killer instead." Frisk was always one for sass, though he tried to hold it back more than not.
"Aren't you a cheeky one?" The face of the flower changed, a smug look accompanying the petals now. "You might actually last down here... Well, you might have, if not for me. See, in this world it's kill or BE KILLED"
The face changed again, a terrifying visage of unadulterated rage replacing the condescending look from before. Just as that happened, white orbs of pure magic rose from the ground, surrounding Frisk in an inescapable circle of death.
He stared at the Flower, refusing to show the fear he felt to his killer. "Flowey is a stupid name" He would at least have the last word, damnit!
The Flower paused, insulted, but amused as well. It paused just long enough that it could not dodge, or even notice, the fireball headed towards it, knocking it away and releasing the control of the magic orbs to dissipate into harmless particles.
Frisk turned to see what had thrown the fire, only to be... mildly surprised when he saw the goat-woman for himself. Not that strange compared to a talking psychopathic flower, but still odd.
"What a terrible creature, threatening a poor innocent youth." The woman spoke, her voice reminding Frisk of his own mother's tone, bringing a brief flash of pain to his chest.
Frisk found it adorable she thought he was innocent.
"Come with me, my child." Another flare of pain. "I shall take you somewhere safe, and perhaps explain things to you." She took his hand before he could move it, and led him towards the exit. As unfamiliar as he was with human contact, he did not shy away from the hand holding as he might have, had he more pride. Fifteen years old or not, lacking a mother's comfort and being alone for three years made Frisk into someone hungry for affection, especially since this woman just saved his life.
"I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. These ruins are filled with puzzles and monsters, so be careful my child." He would have told her to use another name, but he felt if he suggested she stop saying my child, he would break her heart, and he could not do that.
"I'm Frisk." His short speech was shorter due to the distractions and his lack of anything to say. This was not the place to ask questions, after all.
Toriel saw Frisk as a child, he realized. It was adorable, but irritating as well. After being alone for so long, he would not speak up about it, but he did not enjoy the feeling of being looked at as helpless or weak, even if he may have been in that situation. She wanted him to solve a rather simple puzzle, and he almost decided to just tell her how easy it was, but... she had that hopeful look in her eye.
The rooms were meant to mirror each other, which was fairly obvious but also tricky, mostly because he could not view it from a top-down perspective, but it was still a fun idea. Puzzles were fun, it seemed.
As he went back to solve the puzzle, he was interrupted by some... frog creature jumping in his way. Instinctively, he punched out at it, almost shrieking but not gathering Toriel's attention. The creature exploded into dust instantly, leaving Frisk with only the feeling of confusion and fear.
Oddly, some part of him felt stronger from that, something he did not think he had before.
'You did not have to kill him, you know?' A voice spoke suddenly, sounding as if it came from his own head. 'At least it was only out of fear and surprise, and not some malicious intent, though... You should still load, its a life you just took, you should try to... uh... not do that?'
Whatever the voice came from, it was obviously feminine and very... dry, if he could put it in words. There seemed to be little emotion behind the words, but enough there to make it clear this thing was not entirely emotionless about the encounter.
'I should introduce myself, I am Chara. Greetings.' The voice seemed to hum in his mind, an amused tone filling it now.
'O...kay, I am Frisk, and how did you get in my head, or am I just going crazy? May have hit my head on the way down... Oh no, wait! You're my conscience!'
The voice giggled at him, the amusement from before only growing. 'No, just consider me a ghost who got trapped in your head because of our compatible souls. Anyway, back to loading.'
'Loading? Am... I in a video game?' Frisk questioned, glancing behind him.
'No, its a temporal ability granted to those with the highest determination in a dimension. Uh... I don't know how to describe activating it, but I can do it myself, I think. If you let me. It would just let us... time travel back to before you entered this room, with only us remembering. The froggit will still be alive that way.' Chara explained.
'A talking voice in my head asking me to let it take me back in time... Still not sure this is not some drug trip.' Frisk shrugged. 'Well, go for it, I guess. Can't be that ba-' his words were ripped from his mouth, as he felt his body vibrate and his soul exit it, before time rewound the the point where he was right before Toriel, about to enter the room. 'Holy shit that was intense.'
'Yeah, first time is never pleasant, but it gets better.' Somehow, Frisk knew she shrugged at that statement.
'Is everyone down here adept at speaking in euphemisms?' Frisk shook his head, following Toriel again.
'No, you just have a dirty mind.' There was a mix of amusement and light disgust at that statement, but it seemed much more teasing than anything.
'You now inhabit my dirty mind. Wonder if that means you'll be influenced by it' He tried to tease back, but he felt it was a bit of a failure.
'I hope not, my mind is dark enough without being dirty too.' Chara sighed.
Frisk contemplated explaining just how dark he could be, but figured it was best to not do that. Instead, he silently kept up with Toriel, who was now leading him out of the room he had loaded from, while the Froggit had been scared away by Toriel, who had seen it this time.
He paused, realizing the part of him that felt stronger after killing the Froggit did not feel any different than it did immediately after killing it. So loading did not erase that... Interesting.
