Disclaimer: Undertale is Toby Fox's, and I haven't played it yet... oops.
"So, uh, kid."
The man scraped his sneakered feet at the dirt, looking down at the ambiguously brown midget. He didn't quite like the intelligent edge in her? his? their? whatever's entire, well, being, but if this tiny bundle of energy knew a way to hide his addiction from his parole officers, sure, whatever. They'll play along.
Of course, at first he thought the chip was crazy. All that talk, alternating between soft speech and hand-signing that he could only roughly understand from his year or two lessons of ASL, about escape, power, help for him, and he jokingly thought that a devil was trying to strike a deal with him.
Then he thought he was hallucinating. The tyke could play with knives like an expert, had the vocabulary of a high school senior that spent more time trying to conduct college essays than party and skip classes, and dodged him whenever he tried to hit that brat like a seasoned karate person.
Yet, little un's logic can't be argued, and the kid seemed wise beyond all years, like hundreds of years of experience was packed down into a tiny package of a 5th grader. The things said made too much sense, and he couldn't deny the fear crawling up his back whenever he took another sniff of the white gold.
He was awfully desperate, huh? Too trusting for their own good too, if the current situation could prove anything else.
The squirt looked back up at him, the ghost of a smile starting to emerge on that innocent-looking face. 'Hi,' they signed.
Ugh. The creepy-cute kids were always the worst.
"So. You said I can avoid the authorities."
The kid nodded and turned towards the woods, the hand waving for him as a universal sign for him to follow through with the plan.
The little tyke could walk like a pro too. When he was already panting in the afternoon heat an hour or two in, the kid kept trekking along like a well-seasoned 30-year-old hiker. He kept on getting surprised by that kid, again and again. He didn't think his heart could quite keep up with anymore of this nonsense.
Still, he persisted. He started this; he might as well see it the whole way through.
Besides, since when did a walk through under a nice-looking sky hurt anyone? Not a single cloud, the sun beating down rays of sunshine and probably disappointment...
At one point, they both stop a bit suddenly, the man almost colliding with the kid, who sported a sad smile directed at him.
"Uh… anything important come up? Forget your homework?" he tried to joke. Sweat poured down his back, and he had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't all from the recent exertion.
The smile soon became laced with glee.
They wiped away the blood on the grass beneath them and stood up. It was a warm summer evening , and they wondered what the others would think of their actions.
Even human souls can fade in time. They should hurry.
Immune to the aura of magic in the air, they very quickly rushed up the forested mountainside, the purple SOUL bobbing up and down innocently in their hands. Somewhere down, down below, an wanted person lies, never to be found again until his flesh rot to bones.
Heh. Bones.
They look down at the hole, and yet again, they wonder how they ever survived it. A miracle indeed. Maybe it was the Barrier's work? Maybe a stroke of pure luck? Whatever it was, they were glad.
They dug out a note and a ribbon from their pockets, and tied said note with the ribbon onto the soul, and dropped it far, far down. Hopefully, Toriel will find it before Flowey. Although… didn't Flowey… after seven human SOULs….? Hmm, maybe giving him some SOULs can't hurt.
Oh well. Until they come out again, they'll keep giving as many SOULs as their friends need.
They peered over the hole at the fading purple light, until all they could see again was the gaping blackness. One day, one day their monster friends would all be free, but for now they can always wait for the next undesirable human to cross their path. A murderer, a rapist, a druggie, any sort of criminal would do. After all, whoever the blue SOUL was, they had a bunch of dusty stuff lying around.
But they don't kill monsters. Monsters are nice.
Afterwards, they quickly leapt down the mountainside, expertly dodging each root, rushing out amongst the light and shadows from the setting sun and growing night. If they hurried home fast enough, maybe they could fix themselves a quick sandwich and lock themselves up at the roof of their foster home to watch the stars. Their foster parents usually weren't home, but the other human kids? Insufferable.
No one paid mind to the skipping child down the darkening streets, a bright grin glowing on their face.
Soon, their friends can come back to the place where they belong!
A/N:
Began this yesterday when I realized that the next day was the day of spoops, so... hi...?