So my previous fan fiction might state that I headcanon Gaster as the skelebros father, but my headcanons have a tendency to change without warning, so please excuse any inconsistencies in this story.

9th of October, 16XX

So, this is what the humans call a diary, hmm? On the surface, an odd idea, recording the days events instead of simply remembering them, but I can understand the theory. After all, everyone forgets things occasionally, and some form of written record can help prevent events and ideas from being lost and forgotten. I see why so many other monsters are taking up this most human of habits, and I am not one to be left behind by the flow of progress.

So then, let us begin.

I am Wing-Dings Gaster, herbalist, apothecary and learned doctor to the good monsters and humans of this village, working with my sweetheart, Helvatica to provide nostrums and remedies to all who are ill. It is a busy life. Monsters can heal fairly easily, but for all their solidity, humans are remarkably fragile, and the pervasive uneasiness about monsters is easily forgotten, when your wife is having twins and one is not eager to enter this world. It is fortunate monsters do not require much sleep, and Skeletons even less so.

Ah, my dear Helvatica is calling me for dinner. How lucky I am to be blessed with her. The milky white of her bone, the lines of her skull as well formed as the most delicate china...oh dear, there I go, rabbiting on. I'm a hopeless romantic sometimes. Hopefully this evening we can make more progress on our planned wedding. I have waited many years for this joyous day, it should be nothing less then perfect for us to start our new life on...

10th October, 16XX

Removed a stick from the nostril of Goodwife Hendersons youngest son. Sold many of our chest cold remedies. The nights are drawing in, and many humans are catching cold. Helvatica will need to gather more Love-In-A-Meadow.

Woken by a banging on the door at midnight to aid the Mayors daughter, who was afflicted by her fits. Poor child. No medicine seems to be able to abate them, but she copes well most days.

15th October 16XX

Oops, this diary was covered up by the accounts book and forgotten. Careless.

There is troubling news. Discontent seems to be brewing in this nation. There is much gossip in the market regarding a war between the humans and monsters. I find that unlikely, there's been peace as long as history remembers. Still, Helvatica is troubled. I am not as concerned. Even if war breaks out, it will not touch this sleepy hamlet. We are far from the Capitol and more concerned with day to day concerns, like the harvest. Speaking of, the harvest festival will be soon. The local Whimsums have begun working on the lanterns affixed to their abdomens, to give light as evening falls. Perhaps the joy of the festival will take Helvatica's mind off the rumours. I may not be updating with any regularity. There is much planning to be done, all hands in the village are needed.

17th October 16XX

The rumours persist still, a faint haze of paranoia hovering over the town square, monsters and humans watching each other closely. Helvatica has been having nightmares. There is little I can do to comfort her.

I have dropped careful questions at the market, and from what I can gather (and be mindful, these are well meaning, but not well educated folk) its something about souls. Hmm. Interesting. We know well that a monsters soul cannot survive after death, and a humans can, but we've known this for years, what reason could there be for a war?

21st October 16XX

It was a beautiful festival. Basking in the beautiful golds and reds, it was impossible to feel there were any clouds in the horizon. Humans and monsters mingled in a way so warm and genuine it brought a tear to my eye, the children shrieking with laughter as they chased one another through the crowds.

As a learned doctor of the town, it was my duty to judge the produce sections, and I was pleasingly gratified to be able to award Margaret best in show for her prize pig. She's been trying very hard for years. In terms of my services being needed, it was a quiet day, a few cases of sunburn among the children easily treated with aloe.

Then it was judging the wine, a task me and Helvatica were perhaps a touch too keen on, and a warm autumn night as we staggered and giggled our way home, and a haystack, and...well, this is a personal diary, but not that personal...

22nd October 16XX

I am very hungover and the birds are too loud and I just want to crawl in bed and die...

25th October 16XX

The Froggit family moved out today. Helvatica saw them leave as she returned home from the bakers. They told her they were "getting out before things go bad". She is deeply concerned, and now I am too. The Froggits, of all monsters. Calm, reliable, thoughtful...To have them leave like rats fleeing a sinking ship, what could this mean? I passed a group of human children on my evening constitution. They didn't smile or follow me for the humbugs in my pockets as they usually did. They were cautious, shrinking back into the shadows. What are their parents telling them?

1st November 16XX

It rained today. Mayors daughter had another turn.

5th November 16XX

It is war.

The word spread like wildfire among the monsters. Early yesterday the humans announced hostilities against the monsters by...by...

They torched the monster homes in the Capitol.

I finally have my answer to why.

They fear our souls. More precisely, they fear what could be if a monster absorbed the soul of a slain human into itself. We are beings of magic, built wholly of our souls. Humans are souls housed in physical shells, protected from the outside world. But what would happen if a monster took the humans essence? The magic of a monster with the strength and determination of a human? What being would be created then, what god-like power? It is this the humans fear. And it seems we innocent monsters must pay the price for their fear. Should we flee like the Froggits? These people are our neighbours, they trust us and we have done much for them. Yet there is a group slowly gathering outside, the movement of the crowd seeming to bounce more in the direction of our house. Their faces look...odd.

Perhaps we can reason with them?

…

Helvatica...my dear, sweet Helvatica...I'm so sorry...