Welcome to the Underworld
{Log 1: The Ruins

Entry1: The Fall}

Once Upon a Time. . .

That is how the first line of a fairytale is supposed to go, isn't it? A protagonist falls into a world of crazy dream and childlike wonder? You, my dear reader, are thinking of a light hearted tale. One filled with passion, love, and magic. Perhaps you should set this story down and go read one of those tales for yourself. This, though not a work of pitch black, is darker and drearier then what you can imagine. Consider for a moment that the phrase Once Upon a Time is but a device. A device to illuminate the story of a girl that will one day experience horror and tragedy in a place far from that of a what you would call a fairytale. Every appearance a deception. Every word a lie. So let us start again since such conventionalities are important.

Long Ago. . .

Two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS. One day, war broke out between the two races. After a long battle...{You are NOT making me re-write the fucking history of monsters!}You already know all this.

Mt. Ebott: Year 201X

Legends say that those that climb the mountain never return.

Do you know what happens when the entire world forgets a part of their history? What happens when a pivotal moment becomes lost in time, buried, forgotten? A savage and brutal war for the dominance of the planet was fought on the very ground which you now walk, yet no one remembers. A long time ago, humans and monsters used to live in harmony on the surface together. The monsters gave a small group of humans the gift of magic, the very essence of themselves. The humans gave the gift of science, law, and other principles to them in kind. Not all the monsters agreed to this world of harmony. Both races eventually felt superior over the other. The monsters primarily were frightened of the power of the human soul. Their DETERMINATION and ability to manifest their very being made them formidable, powerful, and a threat. The humans that they had once respected began to become greedy. As did monster kind. What was the catalyst of this great war? Experimentation is what drove both sides to loathe one another. A scientist by the name of Dr. Wing Dings Gaster, a foul tempered mad scientist of a skeleton, began to harvest and experiment on humans exhibiting strong soul traits. Not every human had these attributes that stained their very being a singular bright hue of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, cyan, or purple, but those that did, still did not sate his twisted curiosity.

The skeleton refused a moral compass at an early age, devoting himself and his work to the betterment of monster kind. At what cost? His very soul? The souls and lives of others? Mere trifle compared to the success that lay just beyond his grasp. Monsters would no longer have to peacefully reside with the humans, they would rule as they were supposed to. As they were originally intended. Human subjects sucked of all life, their very essence and being ripped from their physical form became his main intrigue. Experiment after experiment caused him to push his work to new heights at the expense of ethics. Humans were but collateral damage. A way to attain new scientific acclaim. The humans began experiments of their own. Both parties were equally abhorrent in their practices, treating one another as lab rats to further scientific breakthroughs. The power obtained within such experimentation continued for centuries until finally war broke out. It is unclear if either side was successful in their pursuits; however, the long bloody war followed for the next two centuries. Once humans and monsters now dissolved into humans v.s. monsters.

As the legend goes, humanity was victorious, but to what end? The ancestors of the first humans that had received the gift of magic, seven human mages as they were so labeled, used their power to seal the monsters underground for their uprising. These seven were humans able to manifest their souls and use magic just as the monsters had after decades, perhaps even centuries of practice. Each one exhibited a different brightly colored aura and soul trait. Up to this point, all humans had some sort of trait though very few had the amount required for it to be useful. The seven stood over what used to be just a lonely mountain as the barrier rose. No one would be able to get out, human or monster alike. The combined power of their souls would seal them away forever, and only the combined power of the seven would be able to break it.

Once praised as heroes for their imprisonment of the demons trapped underground, the seven human mages were deemed a threat when they began to build upon those foundations the monsters once started. If humans could harness and use the power of their souls and potentially even magic, the benefits would be great, but they were just a minority. After the events of the war, the rest of the human population wanted to erase it from their memory, and centuries later the very existence of monsters and magic ceased to exist. The concept of magic faded into obscurity becoming something evil. The war became nothing but a legend in the eyes of the new generations. Monsters were nothing but a superstition, the mad ravings of a deranged mind. For how could something so terrifying and so deadly exist in this world? As consciousness began to fade so did magic. Those that exhibited unusual magical capabilities were quickly disposed of. Thus the second war began. The war against all magic and those that had the ability to wield it. A civil war that ended in the extinction of mages from the earth, or so it's said. A town just on the outskirts of a major city. Just like the mountain named after it, the people of this quaint little town have never forgotten. After a long period and generations of repressed history, even the humans within power began to forget all but one small town. The town at the base of the mountain, Ebott Town.

The balance within the world was now broken, but as with such universal constants it always finds a way to right itself through natural means. There must always be a balance in the world. A balance of magic and science. The humans prior tried to exterminate the existence of magic to no avail. Every death of a mage would bring forth another as the magic buried itself deep into a new soul creating latent abilities in a chosen human child. The Seven: justice, bravery, patience, kindness, perseverance, integrity, and DETERMINATION would live on within these children. If one perished then the magic would attach itself to another chosen soul, unless of course the souls were collected. The lone town that knew the truth of their past was their only sanctuary. A place for them to escape from those that wished them harm. Ebott Town had once been a place of protection, but after the decades had passed, the beliefs of the townspeople had began to twist. Absolute power corrupts absolutely and thus this is how our story… begins.

Frisk clambered up the mountain. The mountain of so many horror stories, myths, and legends. She refused to be frightened by such things, but her heart was still racing as she ascended the peak of Mt. Ebott. It was rumored to be the home of bloodthirsty monsters that were cast into the mountain as punishment for their loss against humanity. It was a bloody and brutal war, yet it faded from existence slowly. It became nothing more than a scary story except for those of her little town. Her little town? No, that's not where she belonged. She was abused, her body showing signs of such brutality. The people in her town were crazy occultists that tried to appease the monsters below by sacrificing special children. The books contained in an ancient archive spoke of such a sacrifice required. The only way to nullify their spell, a barrier of sorts, that kept the monsters trapped in the darkness could only be broken by seven human souls. It would only be later that she would learn of their true motives. To make humans with latent magical or soul properties a weapon against the monsters. One by one, they would fall into the mountain never to return from their brainwashed mission.

Frisk was one of these children. Her parents had been killed due to their opposition to have their only daughter thrown down into the black abyss. The fall would kill her instantly when she reached the bottom of the towering mountain. She was alone and frightened. She no longer had anyone to look after her or instruct her on the essentials of life. All she had was a feeling of never ending dread and death looming over her head. She pushed it all down, internalizing all her pains and putting on a mask of indifference. She tried to be the happy one no matter the circumstances. One day, she could not take it any longer. She just wanted to get it over with. Nothing was worse than the eternal wait of being thrown down of the cliff. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Year after agonizing year. Her resolve wavered as she stood at the lip of the cavern just below her feet. All of it would soon be over. She would finally be able to be at peace. Her hands convulsed when she prepared to jump.

Time seemed to stop as she flung herself into gloom. She felt herself falling, down, down, down further and further before smacking the ground. Everything went black instantly but there was no pain. Her eyes fluttered open to see herself in a desolate cave, void of all foliage or life except for a small patch of golden flowers she had landed upon. She had survived? How? That fall should have killed her instantly, yet here she was, now trapped in the mountain like those before her. A mountain filled with the bloodthirsty terrifying monsters of legend. Creatures that were supposed to only be found in books and movies. Now she was trapped just like them.

There was a giggle from behind her, wispy and distant, yet so close it was like it was in her head.

~It's because of me, partner.

She looked around frantically in confusion, only to find the darkness of the cavern creeping closer as if it were alive and had a mind of its own. Black tendrils were just waiting to surround her in darkness. She called out meekly, "who...who is there?"

There wasn't really a voice, more like a feeling.

Chara

She felt a shudder run down her spine. An intuitive feeling that she knew was dark and twisted. It was in her head. Her soul. Frisk arose from the spot that she had miraculously survived her fall. She brushed herself off. She knew that this, Chara, was dangerous, and yet her curiosity was getting the better of her, "who are you and why am I here?" She knew she was speaking to thin air, but she still wanted answers.

*You feel like there is something dangerous about this place. The eerie chill of the air fills you with weariness. Do you have the DETERMINATION to continue?

Frisk shook her head slowly. She was in a mountain, cold, alone, and scared. No matter how hard she tried she could not shake this feeling of dread. It was overbearing and stagnant. It permeated the air like a toxic chemical. She could not let her fears wash over her so easily. If she indeed survived this fall, all she could do was push forward. It was just a mountain right? All she had to do was find a way out and then… she paused. Did she really want to go back to that cruel unforgiving world? What was the point? Her heart sank for a moment before trying to cheer herself up, "Put on a smile, Frisk! You can get through this!" She made her way through one of the arches beyond. An insignia loomed overhead. It looked like it had been worn by the passage of time. She could not make out any of it, but it made her uncomfortable. She pressed on, yet, that symbol seemed to send a chill up her spine.

The cool mountain air felt stale with dust. As she walked the catacombs of the abandoned ruins, she could see a spot where light pooled out of the ceiling of the cave. A lone flower stood in the indirect rays.

As she neared it, she realized that the pool of light was coming from the ceiling. It was strange. How could light be so far down in a deep dark cavern in a mountain? The lone golden flower that stood in the center seemed to emit its own light as she approached. She knelt down gently to examine it. The golden flower was dazzling but it had sustained some damage. One of its lustrous golden petals was torn in two. It looked like someone or something had tried to rip it from the ground where it now stood. The signs of abuse surrounded its flood of light. It's once lush, green home, blackened with soot and char. Her very presence disturbed the ashen soil in which it now lay kicking up wildfire laden debris into the air surrounding it. Her mood solemned as she stared at the sight. The parallels between her and this suffocated flower were uncanny. It almost reminded her of herself. "Who would do something so cruel to such a pretty flower?"

The damaged flower continued to sway back in forth amidst its peaceful slumber. Such a thing was a rarity here as Flowey woke with a start, whipping around to face the voice. "P-please don't hurt me!" Shielding his face with his leaves, he hesitated before staring up at the speaker. "Oooooh no. No. No. No. No. No. No! What are you doing here?!"

Frisk nearly fell back in shock when the flower started to speak. She did not know what to do other than tilt her head in confusion.

The flower seemed to try to shoo her away. " You need to hide! If you're seen, they'll kill you!"

At her shock and confusion, he sighed then cleared his throat. "Howdy! I'm Flowey. Flowey the flower! Okay, NOW we know each other. You're in the Underworld, kid!" His expression changed to one of seriousness, "Listen to me! Please! You have to hide before you're found! The monsters down here will kill you on sight!"

Frisk blinked in surprise before smiling, "It's nice to meet you, Flowey. My name is Frisk." Her heart skipped a beat for a split second "M…..monsters?"

"Y-yes! Monsters. You know about monsters right? You've heard stories?"

She knew all too well about the stories of ruthless monsters that were supposed to be trapped in the bowels of Mt. Ebott. She felt her hands shake slightly. She had jumped from one Hell into another. She plastered a fake smile on her face, but on the inside, her soul was shaking in fear. "O….oh I...I see. Well, maybe they will help me."

"W-What?! Are you crazy? They'll just as soon kill you than help you! Aren't you listening to anything I am saying kid?!"

A blast came out of nowhere, hitting Flowey, and flinging him across the room.

"What a disgusting creature." Came the voice of a tall goat like quadruped, "Oh my, a human!?"

She looked up at the goat being abruptly. Before her was a monster that loomed over her in a threatening stance. She looked over toward her flower friend that was now strewn to the opposite side of the ruins. "Flowey!" Her heart sank deep into her chest. She didn't know if running would work.

The creature stood to its full height over her small frame, shrouding her in its shadow. It was in the shape of a goat, something she had glanced over earlier. Its shaggy fur must have been white once but now had yellowed and was discolored in tone. Its eyes held a similar discoloration in the sclera, as it looked down upon her with menacing white teeth pulled into an unsettling grin. Its eyes were rimmed with a red discoloration showing its sleep deprivation. Amber eyes stared down the frightened human with a hint of mirth dancing like fire within them. The seemingly flaming eyes contradicted her signs of exhaustion. A jagged mouth was carved into its muzzled face and two twisted obsidian horns protruded from the top of its head. A set of long, floppy dog like ears framed its face. Distressed robes hung on its tall frame and ended just below the creature's knees. The fabric it adorned seemed to be losing its strength with the monsters every passing step. Its inky color appeared faded at the edges, giving way to the splayed fibers of the fabric underneath. The color seemed to engulf the goat like being as if it was some kind of mourning clothing.

A strange runic symbol stood out against the black robes, its shapes spreading outward as if to symbolize a set of outstretched wings. The threads were splotchy in color as if someone had dyed the symbol crimson, which was its current state. Some spots of white could be seen but very little. Lining her robes was a golden fabric that, just like the entirety of its attire, looked worn and discolored. Once long ago, it might have shone with a beautiful, metallic, golden brilliance that would have sparkled like the sun. It was a fabric fit for royalty. Even her robes seemed to emanate a sense of past regality. Golden runic trims lined her cuffs, hem (what was left of it), and neckline. Underneath her robes was a matching black tunic that just extended past the supernatural entity's forearm. Its robes tapered downward to give way to a pair of discolored white haunches. From the soft feet, Frisk saw her claws like chips of obsidian that glistened in the lack of light, casting an eerie and almost sinister reflection. They were sharper than any knife she had ever set her eyes on and all the more deadly. Like a curved blade, the creature's claws curved in a mild arch, only to end in a sinister point. On the underside, the claws represented the jagged teeth of a switchblade. It was most likely due to wear; however, the edges were jagged and sharp almost looking like the ridges of a house key. A fallen Queen. The sight was unnerving.

Frisk was rattled from her observations to come crashing back to the reality that was presented in front of her. She was in front of a menacing looking monster, and her golden companion had been forcefully flung to the opposite side of the desolate space. She could barely see if he was moving. The thought of losing him even though they had just met caused her cobalt blue eyes to fill with tears. The goat creature stood before her as an impenetrable wall. She was helpless. A gruff and guttural sound escaped the creature before it opened its jagged maw to clear its throat. The voice that reached her ears was not at all what she expected from such an alarming monster. The voice was melodious and had a hint of motherly protective instinct.

Toriel was delighted to see another human, yet another human child! How long had it been since the last one that she held closely in her arms tears staining the fur of her cheeks. They had left permanent trails onto her discolored white fur adding to an even more unnerving look. It caused the fur to become discolored with tracks of past mourning showing in a faded crimson. Massive discolored paws folded themselves on top of one another in an attempt to keep the child comfortable. It can be rather shocking to see a monster for the very first time. She remembered it well, the look on a human's face when they first learned of their existence. The fear and apprehension in their eyes as she held her hand out to each of them. What horrible stories had the humans been spreading about them on the surface? After all their injustices, the humans continued to tarnish monster reputation. All they had become were nightmares and boogeymen. Nothing but human prattle and mad ravings. This human before her did not seem to be as vexed as the others had been. All her poor sweet children oh how she missed them so. They would always be with her. They always were with her. Their voices, their laughter, their smiles. All of them were still here. They would now have another sister to be a part of their little family. She opened her mouth to speak as she stared at the child in front of her. Her eyes were soft and kind but held a kind of desperation in their citrine depths, "Hello, my child. Do not be afraid, I am here to help you. Why don't you come with me?"

Frisk was surprised by the sudden motherly tone that ended up coming from her after she had just seen the creature's fiery rage, no pun intended. Her appearance excluded, she seemed desperate for something, and Frisk could not just let the poor anthropomorphic suffer. A small hand reached toward the one extended out to her. She was still horribly worried about Flowey, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that he was no longer where he had been thrown. She was still afraid of what was going to become of her as her feet, once cemented in place, moved on their own accord rather reluctantly. It was as if she was moving through quicksand as the goat creature enveloped her small hand with their large paw and began to make their way through the ominous archway that loomed over them. It could have been due to monster stature. Its height appeared to tower over her in all its ruined glory. That, or she was just a small thing to begin with. It was quite clear that it was meant for a monster perhaps even larger than the one she now had as a kind of escort. At first, she thought this might be a kind of sick dream manifested by all the nightmarish stories of monsters that the village used to feed her on a daily basis. She would be one mad enough to dream up something so dark and disturbing, but this was not the case. Monsters were real, living, breathing creatures exactly as Flowey had mentioned. Ones that wanted her head on a silver platter, for what purpose the young human could not place. Her flower friend had been vague on his details about the society in which seemed to rule this underground world.

The human child's apprehension and fearful gaze was not lost on the once mother of many as she crouched down to Frisk's height with the sweetest smile she could muster. Another yellowed paw came to rest on the child's head as claws combed through the human's auburn locks. In her mind this was going to be the last one. The last human child that was going to leave her. The last human child to suffer in their world. A world that she had removed herself from long long ago. The child in front of her was proof that she was not forsaken. Those blue eyes that bore into her. They were the final piece and one she vowed as she tried to comfort the human in front of her that they would never obtain. Her voice was calm and steady as she spoke for fear of startling the youth, "Ah, do not be afraid my dear. I am here to help you. I am Toriel, banished to this dreadful place we call the Ruins. I pass through every day to see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first human in a very long time. Come! I will guide you through the catacombs." A small speech, but Toriel knew that the more she spoke, the more she would ease the young one's mind of any ill thoughts that they may have been subject to. They had been with the weed earlier, so it was of no surprise that her initial reaction was one of fear. She hoped that she was able to assuage their small mind into a kind of mild sense of security. Standing to her full height, she once again looked at the child. They were around 5'5" with a thin build. Some might say too thin due to the way their purple and yellow sweater seemed to hang on their small frame. It drowned them in a light knit fabric and long sleeves that extended just below their wrist. The sweater had a turtleneck piece that caused the child to be able to hide their face into it due to its size. A normal human would have fit in the garment just fine but this young one did not. From what she could see, she also saw a pair of white crew socks that ended just above their ankles and a pair of brown flats that looked worse for the wear and horribly uncomfortable. There were scrapes and lacerations on the human's two pale legs that caused Toriel to begin to worry. They had fallen quite a long way and not without injury. She would ask as any concerned mother would about that in due time. For now she would lead them to her home at the other end of the catacombs.

Frisk could feel the warm fur brushing just gently near her face before a paw came to land on her head. It was a gentle gesture, one a mother might use to reassure their child. It made Frisk feel a little comfortable. Maybe Flowey was over exaggerating. Maybe he had been lying to her. She did not want to believe that the first person, or rather monster, that she met would deceive her in such a way, but she had to be careful. For now, she would follow Toriel to where the goat monster wanted to take her. The words catacombs and ruins caught her attention. So that is what they were? It did seem rather void of any life for it to be a kind of monster haven, but Frisk knew nothing of monsters, only what she had been taught and the stories. She did not believe in absolute evil. Anyone could be evil or good, it just depended upon their actions. Frisk did find it rather endearing that Toriel, as she was now named, continued to call her a child. She was in fact, a young adult, but she supposed to a monster of such stature that she would be seen as such. Her thoughts began to drift as she walked with Toriel, leaving the place of her fall behind. The small sliver of light seemed to grow smaller and smaller the deeper they made their way through the catacombs. Something within Frisk told her that natural light would be something she would not be seeing for a very long time.

October 7th 201X

End of Entry...