Sans sighed as he slouched deep into his green couch, he knew what was about to happen. He had watched Papyrus exit through the front door, a determined look on his face. All the monsters in Snowdin already fled when news of the human arrived. Papyrus and Sans had joined them all but too briefly. Sans took his shortcut back to his house when he saw Papyrus head out. That was but ten minutes ago.
The memories returned full force, a stark white snowy woodland, a determined human child, a chilling smile, a glinting knife, and dust-dissolving into the wind. Sans let out a loud whimper. His eyes watery with tears threatening to flow down his cheek bones. Slowly, he stood up and walked solemnly up the stairs to Papyrus's bedroom.
Each step felt slow like time had frozen still. Yet it had only been a minute. Opening the door, Sans took in the sight of his brother's bedroom. A race car bed, a carpet with flames, and a shelf chock full of action figures. Papyrus was just like an overgrown child. With that thought, Sans smiled a bitter smile.
He sat on the edge of the bed and let the tears go. His sobs echoed around the empty house. His soul felt empty, oh so empty. Papyrus his dear, dear little brother would die. He would turn to dust with a sad smile on his face, still believing in the human child. All that would be left, his beloved red scarf.
Sans fell over in grief, tears racking his small frame. He knew the drill, first that lady behind the door, then his brother, Undyne would follow, then Mettaton, and after it would be his turn as the last defense before Asgore. Why couldn't they just be left alone?
The child had reset after reset, after reset, and would continue to reset. Sans was tired, exhausted of reliving this over and over again. You'd think it get easier as it repeated, but no it got harder and harder seeing everyone he loved, everything he cared for die, again and again. Simply never ending.
With one final thought, Sans took one last shortcut, to a golden hallway. His one thought to kill the dirty brother killer.
