Hey there wonderful people of FanFiction! So if you're not familiar with my works on Seven Deadly Sins or Fairy Tail, well, I do not blame you. After all, this is my first fic on the game UNDERTALE, which I have come to know and love.
Basically I saw a bunch of UNDERTALE stuff hanging around on the Internet so I was like, hey, let's check it out shall we? And look at me now; I am so immersed into this fandom it's a wonder if I'll even get out of it.
If you're one of my frequent readers and don't know what UNDERTALE is, go to YouTube, search UNDERTALE game-play and start watching NOW. Or even better, download it on Steam and experience the feels for yourself. I had to unfortunately take the former path, but nonetheless it was an amazing journey to travel down, with really quirky characters with personality and underlying morals here and there. And the challenge... I wonder if I'm even up for this game if I can get it.
So! Before you continue, watch the game-play or play it yourself... for there are some MAJOR spoilers here. WARNING: SPOILERS AND FEELS AHEAD!
Anyway, for this shot, it's something of Asriel and Chara's friendship at the start. It's just a head-canon, really, but I love these two so much I don't even know why. Also, Sans and Frisk all the way!
You blink your eyes open to blazing sunlight. You don't feel well.
It's like your body has a weight pressing you down to the ground. Not that you particularly mind. The floor beneath is soft and mossy, like grass. You turn, achingly slowly, to see a patch of golden flowers surrounding you.
Sitting up, dazed, it takes a moment to recollect your thoughts. The quiet tranquility of this patch of golden, with yellow sunlight cascading down from above, puts your heart at rest. Then the nightmares return.
You know why you're here now. You remember everything.
Every single detail.
Suddenly your head feels like it's going to burst. You feel like screaming, but no sound will come out. You've lost your ability to speak. You're terrified.
Shaking, you reach up and touch your face. Your skin feels grimy and greasy. When you remove your hand, you see dirt stains mixed in with wet tears. You wail, softly, despairingly, in the silence of golden flowers.
No one hears your sobs. No one came.
You sit there for a long time, crying until your tears have dried. Then you lay back in the flowers, closing your eyes and wishing to sleep for eternity. You roll on your side so you plant your face among the flowers. They have a fresh moist smell—like dirt and dew. It's soothing.
"Are you alright?"
Slowly you look up. You see something unimaginable. A goat—standing on its hind legs. And it's standing pretty upright. Clad in a green-and-yellow striped sweater, there's a forlorn look on this fellow's face. Probably scared of how you look right now.
An insane thought creeps into your mind. You instantly pat your pocket for your knife, but it seems you've lost it. Perhaps it's somewhere among the flowers.
The goat thing extends its hoof toward you. You stare warily at it, all the while fumbling in the flower patch behind you for the fallen knife.
"Come on, you're dirty. I'll bring you to Mama to get c-cleaned up." The goat thing's high-pitched voice is trembling. So is its hoof directed towards you. Inwardly you smile. Your fingers brush against cold metal, drawing scarlet blood on your skin. Your hand finds the knife's hilt, and once you've clutched it in your palm you hide it close behind your back, ready to lash out once the chance strikes. Right now seemed a perfect opportunity, right?
Right?
Something is stopping you. The goat thing thumps another of his four hooves on the ground impatiently. "Come on, we haven't got all d-day …" Its voice falters.
Suddenly there are tears running down the goat's face. You're taken by surprise. The goat cries, rubbing its tears away while gasping to speak.
"I'm sorry, I just … there's blood on your face, and your legs, and your hand." It motions to the hand behind your back, knife pressed to skin and hidden from its sight. Velvet drops taints the flowerbed. Ah, so that's how it knew. "It's making me feel queasy, and …" it takes a breath. "Scared. Really, really scared. You're a human, and I'm not supposed to help a human, but …"
It takes a step closer. You flinch on instinct. You grasp your knife tighter.
"I can't stand to see you hurt like this."
Your eyes widen. The hard grip on your knife momentarily loosens.
Could this goat see how hurt you're feeling? How does it know? Why does it care? Why… is it feeling so jumpy in your chest?
"I can't stand to see anyone hurt like this." The goat sniffles, and wipes its nose on its sleeve. "That's why I've got to bring you to Mama, so you get cleaned up and patched up, and you'll be all fine again …"
Fine. What a distant word. You don't think you'll ever be fine again, after what's happened up to this point. You can't return to those happy times once more, and you just don't see a need for yourself to be here anymore. And that's precisely the reason. Why you climbed this mountain and fell through it in the first place.
Curse this stupid flower patch for breaking your fall.
You stare longer, waiting for the goat's next move. The goat reaches out again, willing you to take its hoof. You're confused.
You're absolutely, definitely, utterly confused.
A few centuries ago you felt like every living creature should die. But now, you're not so sure.
You stare at the hoof longer. It's making the goat queasy all over again, but in a different way.
"Hey, how long do I have to keep my hand out like this? It's making my arm tired …" It bleats. You narrow your eyes upon it and it flinches.
"Okay then. If that's what you want …" And it's moving its hand away. And suddenly something takes over you.
A warm sensation spreads through your hand. It's a feeling that's been felt long ago. It's very comforting.
Your blood-stained hand is grasping the goat's hoof, staining its white fur a crimson red. Surprisingly, the goat isn't affected in the slightest, and instead smiles sweetly at you, asking for your name.
Your … name?
It's been a long time since you've heard it been said, so you say it.
"Chara … that's a nice name." The goat tugs on your hand, and you feel your heartstrings being pulled along. "My name is Asriel."
Okay, I know it was pretty short, but the thing is I'm in the process of writing this and if you guys want some more, let me know? I hope it turns out well, and hope you guys enjoy this roller-coaster ride of feels!
- Mint-chan.