Darkness swelled around her head so thick she couldn't see the back of her hand in front of her face. Her mind felt mushy and blank. Although the setting was creepy, a strange tranquility filled her. Then she heard a voice that would have been gentle if it didn't echo in an evil way.
"You are broken, you don't need your soul," the demon-like voice echoed.
She didn't know what to say or do. The calmness she had felt in her soul before was replaced with fear. Her mind was as blank as the darkness around her. Then she saw a dim red glow. The crimson color grew brighter as the figure got closer, until she could make out a face. The demon's pale skin glowed red with the only light coming from her empty, red eyes. Instinctively, she held her hand over where her heart was, her soul, as if the mushy armor could protect her. Of course, she knew it couldn't. Not even determination could save her from the familiar feeling.
"Give it to me, or I'll rip it from your body!" the demon flashed a red knife in her face.
She felt burning tears of fire streaming down her face. Before she could respond back, a dim light blinded her. A gentle voice filled her empty mind again, but this time it didn't echo.
"Wake up, sweetie," the voice was indeed the demon's voice without an echo and with a hint of humor. Her voice was a cool breeze on a sweltering day.
The demon figure seemed to vanish as it was replaced with a muzzle and pure white fur. Toriel.
"You were thrashing again," Toriel explained her reason for her disturbance, "I knew you would rather not talk about these 'nightmares' you have, but I didn't want you to have to continue your suffering."
Toriel kissed her forehead, "Maybe you should just rest today, Frisk. I know how much you love cooking with Undyne and Papyrus, but you've been having a bad dream everyday for the past week. If you don't want to be isolated, I'm sure Sans wouldn't mind taking you to Grillby's. Just promise me to not go too crazy today. And by that I mean stay away from Undyne and Papyrus."
Frisk nodded in understanding, unable to speak. The relief she felt that the demon was just a dream mostly blocked her voice from coming. The other part was the familiar feeling she felt during the nightmare. It had felt so genuine.
Toriel smiled as she exited the room. Frisk sat up in bed, thinking about when she should reset. Maybe the dreams were a sign.
"I'll talk to Sans about it later," Frisk knew from all her past resets that just because Sans was such a lazybones, he was still very wise. He must have known something about resets. Even if he didn't, once Frisk eventually did reset, he would forget everything, like the rest of them.
As Frisk got out of bed, she thought she felt a presence in her room. The feeling crept on her like the sins crawling on her back those times when she killed everyone.
She tried to shrug it off, but it stayed put.