The sound of the alarm cuts through her dreams like a knife. She rolls over, bleary-eyed, and smacks her hand on top of her nightstand, trying to find the button that would silence the persistent beeping.

Her hand finds its target. With a click, the noise stops, and she groans. Rolling onto her back, she pulls her covers up, trying to shut out the soft morning light streaming through her window. Why must the most effective alarms always put you in an I Don't Want To Get Up mood? Sure, Careless Whisper put you in a weirdly romantic state of mind for most of the morning, but at least it sounded nice.

She groans again, wanting to stay in bed for all eternity. Or for as long as her latest project took. Only calendars could take all the fun out of photography.

With an effort that seemed to take the strength of a thousand monsters (Monsters? Where the heck did that come from?), she lifted her covers off and sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she stared blankly at the far wall, contemplating her existence for a bit. She yawns hugely and stands up, walking slowly to the bathroom.

Not stopping to look in the mirror, she heads straight towards the shower. Twisting the water on, she sighs contentedly as it flows warmly over her body.

She had been having a lot of odd dreams lately. Most of them had some stuff that would put her in one of those comfy jackets with the arms that tied around your back, which is saying something. But all of them had one thing in common. They all ended with a huge mountain that towered over a beautiful green forest.

The most recent dream was also, in her opinion, the eeriest one she'd had. It was a dark room, totally pitch-black. In the middle of the room, illuminated by a bright light, was a plant. A plant with a face, more precisely. And it was screaming some of the most crude profanity she had ever heard in her entire 20 years of life.

And then it began to melt as if someone had poured acid on it. The profanity turned into cries for mercy.

Nobody could expect that from a tiny weed.

But despite what anybody might think, she found it creepy. Hands down. Okay, maybe not as creepy as the one where she was inside of a place that was on fire and nobody saved her, but it was definitely up there.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen the mountain before. It probably had something to do with her childhood. Which was pretty messed up, as far as childhoods go.

She couldn't remember much, only the fact that she had fallen off of a cliff or something and had vanished for a few weeks. After the people in her village found her, they went nuts and started talking about "the creatures under the surface". Needless to say, it freaked her out. But the odd thing was: she had no memories of what had happened when she went missing.

These thoughts ran through her head as she stepped out of the steamy shower, wrapped a towel around herself, and brushed her teeth.

She strode into her bedroom and pulled out her favorite, if slightly worn down, long-sleeved shirt. Tugging it over a pair of jeans, she went into the kitchen.

She poured herself a cup of coffee, idly humming a tune to herself. A buzz came from across the table, and she reaches for her phone. Looking through a bunch of random emails, she finally checks the message that was sent. Her eyes widen, and she almost spits out her coffee.

"No way." she mutters, placing the cup down and scrolling through the message. Her fingers rapidly swipe the screen at an effort to read the message faster.

"Oh my GOD!" she yells, setting her phone on the table with a slight thunk. She slumps over the back of her chair, staring at the ceiling. She groans halfheartedly.

"Now I have to change my entire schedule. Thanks a lot, boss."

They all met up at the loft that was located right above the photography studio. She sits down on a stool, putting her camera bag on the floor next to her.

"So, why are we changing locations this late into the photo shoot?" she asks the person next to her.

The other woman fiddles with her long, honey blond hair. "Frisk, you know how much Stanson loves to change things late into everything. Besides," she leans over towards Frisk. "I'm pretty sure we'll get an more interesting spot this time."

Frisk frowns slightly. "But all spots are interesting, Olivia."

"Yes, I know. But by interesting, I mean it may have an interesting backstory." Olivia taps her chin, thinking. "Like Mirror Lake. That would be a nice change of pace. Or another city." She glances at Frisk, who had picked up her camera bag and was double-checking that all of her equipment was inside. "Deserts are nice, but this is the seventh one we've been to."

"Wherever it is, it better not be too far away. I don't want to change my schedule again."

Olivia shrugs. "Knowing Stanson, we'll be home at ten, at the very least."

Frisk sighs, zipping up her bag. "Great."

A man then struts into the room, carrying a tablet in the crook of his arm. He looks around at all the photographers in the room. Taking out a stylus, he scribbles something on the tablet, and clicks it off. He sets the device onto the nearest table and claps his hands.

"Alright people!" he yells. "I'm sorry about the sudden change of plans, but this'll all work out in the end."

"That's what you say every time." Frisk mutters under her breath, causing Olivia to burst into a fit of giggles.

Stanson glares at her and continues talking. "This time, we're not going to add another desert to the calendar. That will make it too boring."

Frisk was about to say something derogatory towards calendars, but then thought better of it.

"We'll all be splitting up in groups, and going to five different places. Whichever group gets the best shots of said places will get their shots in the calendar! Isn't that great?" His enthusiasm was met with silence.

Stanson fake pouts. "Come on, guys, show some gusto!"

Olivia politely raises a hand. "It's kind of hard to be excited about calendars, Stanson."

Their boss rubs his hands gleefully together. "You're going to get excited once you find out where you're going."

Frisk raises and eyebrow, resting her chin on her hand. "Oh really? And where are we going that's so interesting?"

If possible, Stanson's smile gets even wider. A mischievous glint shines in his eyes as he picks up the tablet, getting ready to walk out of the room. "Mount Ebott."

A/N:

Annnnndddd here's where things start to get interesting!