Hey guys! This story is going to be about Undertale! This contains minor spoilers for the game, so if you don't wanna be (minorly) spoiled for the game, please leave now! Secondly, I don't own Undertale, Toby Fox does. And lastly, this is my version of the story so please don't hate on me if you don't like it. Constructive critisism only, please! Now, enjoy!

Yellow's Story

This takes place back in the "Old West" time period, and is about the yellow soul's life before and during their time in the underground. The yellow soul is depicted as a male. Please remember that this is my first story I've publicly written so don't hate me if I did something wrong. And if I did, please let me know in the comments below.

Prologue: Part 1

"Pa, what's it like being Sheriff?", asked a young boy to his father, looking upwards to his fathers lightly stubbled face. "It ain't easy boy, but someone's gotta keep everyone else in line." Answered his father, crouching down with his arms parted, silently beckoning his son into a lifting embrace. The child happily obliged, cheerfully giggling as their father squeezed his son tightly against his strong chest, then proceeded to lift his child to the point where he could stand straight. "Daddy, can I be Sheriff when I grow up?" Beamed the hopeful child, leaving his father lightly chuckling, "Maybe, Giddeon, we'll see what happens. But first let's get you home to your Momma." Responded the lighthearted father of his child, Giddeon.

"Yay! I can't wait to be Sheriff!" Exclaimed an cheerful Giddeon, not caring in the slightest what a Sheriff even was, so long as he could be one, too. "And I can't wait to see your Momma." Responded Giddeon's father, chuckling along with Giddeon's giggling as he began to walk towards the direction that would lead them home. "Daddy," Giddeon yawned, "why does Momma call you Jer?". "Well boy, Daddys and Mommas have two names: a big name, and a small name." Began Giddeon's father. "You know how you call me Dad, or Pa?" Giddeon responded to his father. "Uh-huh." He he answered, exhaustion heavy on Giddeon's voice. "Well, that's my little name, only you get to call me that. But everyone else calls your Dad by his big name, Jerimiah." Finished Jerimiah, noticing they were getting close to home.

Prologue: Part 2

"Giddeon!" Giddeon felt a tug back towards reality.

"Giddeon, you wake up right this instant!" Giddeon began to slowly make his way back to the realm of the present, but had not regained conciousness yet. "Giddeon if you do not wake up right now I will bend you over my knee myself, let alone what your mother will do to you when she finds out!" That got him awake. Giddeon begrudgingly lifted his torso off of his desk, yawning loudly as his arms stretched to the ceiling. "Yeah, I'm awake sir." Informed Giddeon, dissapointed that his dream had to end so abruptly. He liked dreams about his past, it reminded him of who he was. "Well, it didn't seem like that about twenty seconds ago! You need to stop falling asleep in class or else you're going to get far worse than verbal punishment." Warned the teacher, but he never really carried any real threat behind his words.

"Sorry sir, I had a late night last night pickin' up round' the house, and the amount of homework ya gave me ain't any helpin' either." Giddeon apologized, taking a second to rub the sleep from out of his eyes. "And where is that homework, Giddeon?" Challenged the professor, raising an eyebrow in a charismatic fashion, confident that Giddeon didn't have his work. "Right here, sir," Giddeon responded, patting around his dusty dress pants for the sheets of paper. When he found them, he held the small stack triumphantly in the direction of his teacher, changing the professor's challenging look to one of surprise. "Oh...?" Questioned the older man, his pudgy belly resisting movement as he bent over to gently but quickly take the papers from Giddeon, as if the neatly scribbled handwriting would dissappear in an instant if he moved them the wrong way. He turned his gaze from Giddeon and made his way behind his widely unused and even more so unneeded podium, and began looking over the work.

"It's all there teach," Giddeon smirked at his teachers scowling expression from the nickname. "A five page explanation on how oil pumps will likely yield more money than gold rushes within the next century." Giddeon leaned proudly in his seat, a grin plastered across his face as the old man looked over the homework, impressed. "An impressive paper," he complimented "had that been what I had assigned, Mr. Court." Added the professor, a look of that was a mix of annoyance and exhaustion spread across his chubby face as he looked back up at Giddeon. "I know it wasn't what you asked for," Giddeon stated. "But I forgot what the homework was, so I thought I might write up somethin' that'd impress you." The proud grin never leaving his skinny face as his instuctor looked at him in utter exhaustion. "Well...under school regulations, I oughta say that you get a zero. But I'm not here to let hard work go to waste, so I'll let it slide this once. But ONLY, this once. I'm not here to encourage slacking either, and I want the next assignments COMPLETED on the day that I ask for them, and how I ask for them to be completed. I want you to learn responsibility, but I also want you to learn that taking big risks works sometimes. And under normal circumstances I would say that class is dismissed, but it's not really a class as much as it is detention. You're free to leave for today, Mr. Court." Giddeon calmly stood from his seat, he hadn't expected that to work at all, let alone as well as it did. "Thank you sir, I appreciate it!" After properly thanking his teacher, Giddeon gathered his things, lifted his belongings and headed for the door. "I'll expect you here on Monday morning bright and early, Mr. Court. And get some sleep! I'm tired of you sleepin' when you're to be studyin'!" "You got it Professor, be seeing ya!" Giddeon started on his way home.

Prologue: Part 3 (of 3)

"Giddeon!"

"Hey momma." Giddeon's mother greeted him as he walked through the door, stopping her dish-washing for only a moment to give him a quick hug. "How was school?" She asked patiently. "It was alright momma. Is Dad home yet?" Giddeon asked as he set his schoolbag down next to the door. "No sweetie, he should be home later though." "Okay momma, I'll be in my room. Holler when dinner's done." Giddeon turned to leave the room and took a couple steps forward. "Oh! That reminds me, some of your friends from around the neighborhood are havin' a campfire tonight. They said they'll have dinner ready by the time they want you there, if you wanna go." Giddeon paused for a moment, then said, "I'll keep it in mind momma. When is it?" "Six-o-clock, honey." "Thanks, momma." Giddeon thanked as he left the room to begin the trek to his bedroom. He moved up the stairs in the front room and down the hallway to his bedroom, the last door on the left.

After discarding his socks to a pile in a corner and retiring his shoes to a space near his door, Giddeon sat in the wooden chair behind his desk, where a half-cleaned revolver lied in pieces, the bullets standing upright in a neat line on the back of the desk. He pulled the polish, oil, and silk cloth out of the top drawer of the desk, and proceeded to take apart each piece carefully, cleaning and re-oiling his deadly weapon with great care. His father gave it to him, after all, and he quickly learned to respect the power it had. When he finished, he pulled a book out and began the reading assigned to him as homework at the beginning of school that day. The book was titled, "Legends of Today". He couldn't quite make out the author, the front was extremely faded from age. It was authored by someone with the first name starting with a "T", and the last name 'Fox'. He turned to the assigned page, and began his reading. 'Mt. Ebott', the book stated, 'a very mysterious place with many legends surrounding it. Some say that its infested with monsters, while others say it's protected by magic. One thing, though, is true: no one has ever gone to the summit and returned.' The rest of the page contained pointless rumors and blurry illustrations that Giddeon doubted would have been useful in any way, had they been describable.

Giddeon closed the book, and slid it back into the second drawer of his desk and sat back down in his chair, the natural sunlight in his bedroom dimming slowly. For a short time, Giddeon sat in his chair which he turned towards his small, but comfortable window. He simply sat and admired the beautiful quiet yellows and vibrant oranges of the sunset, and the soft pink-ish color of the clouds surrounding the area that the sun broke through the sky. Giddeon quickly and skillfully fit all the pieces of the shiny and well cleaned silver together, and carefully placed it into the brown-leather holster hanging on his wall. He opened a drawer in his dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of white socks and slipped them on, along with his worn, but well taken care of shoes. Figuring the time was around six, he opened his door and checked the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway to find he was correct. '5:53' The clock read, and Giddeon quickly slipped into his vest, then fixed his dark hair using an old cracked mirror on his wall and a comb he had nearby on his desk. He descended the stairs into the front room to find his father on the couch sleeping. His mother, sitting next to him was knitting calmly. "He's out cold." She whispered to him. "Don't count on him waking up any time soon, he had a long day workin' today. Sorry honey, I know you wanted to talk to him. " "It's fine, I understand." He assured quietly. "Okay," she answered "I'll be waitin' for when you're back." "Thanks momma, bye." He finalized, and as she waved him goodbye, he turned to the front door and left.

Author's Note: This has nothing to do with Undertale Yellow, or it's creators. If you guys have any cool ideas for the story, tell me in the comments! See you guys soon.