A/N: Holy shit, you guys. The response to this story has been overwhelmingly positive. I'm amazed, to be honest. I didn't realize so many people shared my demented state of mind. Thank you so much to every single reader and reviewer; you guys are the best. Enjoy!

Naughty Humans Get Hurt

"Punk ass, are you listening
Can you hear me or are you deaf and dumb to my language?
Do the real words seem to hurt you
Well put 'em up, motherfucker
You'll feel it
When I stamp it on your forehead
So you will never forget
That you're a reject
And you're a no one
And you're nothing
Little impotent one"
—Reject – Disturbed

The clock on her dresser said one-thirty in the morning when her door swung open. Daryl shut it a little quieter than he'd opened it, but it still slammed shut.

Frisk jumped awake and stared wide-eyed at the drunken adult standing in front of her.

"You've been a naughty girl, Frisk," he attempted to growl. The words were mumbled and slurred together.

Frisk shook her head. "No, I've been good. I've done everything you told me to do."

Daryl clicked his tongue and adjusted his erection in his pants before taking a few steps closer to the child. "You haven't sucked my cock in a couple days. I'd say that's pretty naughty."

Sans growled and scraped his claws against the closet door. Maybe this had been a bad idea; he wanted to rip the man's legs off.

Frisk gasped and sat up, looking over at the closet with wide, terrified eyes. Yes, Sans thought. She should be afraid; he was by far more dangerous to her than this human. This human would never touch her again after tonight.

"Shut up, bitch," Daryl all but shouted. "Nothin's gonna stop us this time. Not your mommy, not your fucking invisible monster, not you…so you're gonna suck my cock, and then I'm gonna fuck that tight pussy."

Sans narrowed his eyes with anger when her fear came from the man again. He growled again when the man's pants dropped and he grabbed his member with one hand. His other hand went to Frisk's hair.

He couldn't watch this. This was an injustice even he couldn't commit. It was about fucking time Daryl got what was coming to him.

Sans slid the closet door open and growled again, this time flaring his blood-red magic. It lit in his left eye and carried over his skull, down his neck and arms, and to his hands.

Both Frisk and Daryl looked over at the closet with wide eyes. The child's pounding heart was like a drug; Sans needed to hear it pound right out of her fucking chest. The tears in her eyes, fresh and fearful from this new terror, made him realize how much he'd missed scaring her. The realization of what Daryl had taken from him sparked his anger anew.

"Get the fuck away from the kid," he growled, low in his chest. "She's mine to break."

Daryl stumbled backward a few steps.

Frisk sobbed and backed up against the wall. "Monster!" she cried out, voice tight and ragged. "Monster, please help me!"

The strangled plea made him stop and look at her. Did she think he was a new monster? He stepped up to her and held out the same claw she'd clung to twice now. "I am your monster," he snarled.

She looked at him with a wet face, tears still streaming down her cheeks, but it was clear she understood when she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his. "That's why you wanted my room clean?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, he pulled away and turned his attention to Daryl. The human cowered in the corner, his pants still around his ankles and his erection deflated.

Sans rumbled again and stepped slowly toward the man. He reached out a hand and curled his fingers into claws, gripping Daryl's soul. Daryl was lifted off the ground, shivering and crying. Sans laughed darkly as the man pissed himself.

"You ain't even gonna beg?" Sans asked. "Ain't gonna ask me to spare your pathetic life?"

"Please," Daryl managed to squeak. "Please don't kill me."

Sans barked a laugh. "Kill you? Nah, I ain't gonna kill you. Not right away. I'm gonna do much, much worse." He turned back to Frisk and pointed a clawed finger at her. "I ain't done with you, neither." However, he couldn't do to Daryl what he wanted to do in her room, or even in her presence.

He pulled his arm close to him, causing Daryl to fly across the room and stop next to him. Daryl shrieked and shivered again. With a wink at Frisk, Sans wrapped a hand around Daryl's throat and disappeared.

Frisk looked around the room in shocked amazement. She wiped her face with the backs of her hands and got down on her hands and knees to look under the bed. She believed that the monster she'd seen was her monster, but she had to look. The one she'd seen had been too big to fit under her bed. Maybe he could change his shape?

She wondered for a moment where they had gone. What was her monster going to do to Daryl? She wasn't exactly sure what could be worse than killing him, but she also wasn't sure she wanted to try to imagine the possibilities. She was just happy that he couldn't hurt her again.

She sat back and thought about what had just happened. Her monster could talk after all. She had to admit she liked the gravelly, deep sound of his voice. She wanted to know why he never spoke to her. Whatever his reasons, she was happy to think that maybe they could have real conversations now.

With a sigh, she got up and left the room to get a drink. As she walked into the living room, she saw her mother laying on the couch in a white nightgown. It looked like she'd been drinking; she was sprawled out with her arm and leg hanging off the edge. Frisk passed her quietly, being sure not to make any noise as she got a cup down and poured some juice.

Something didn't feel right to Frisk as she started her way back to her room. She looked at her mom as she moved closer, trying to be as quiet as possible. Something was off. She was too still, Frisk realized. Even drunk, she was fidgety in her sleep.

Frisk sucked in a breath and moved a little closer to her mother. Still she didn't move.

"Mom?" Frisk whispered. No movement.

She could tell now that her chest wasn't moving. Dread began to fill Frisk, starting in her chest and spreading out all the way to her toes.

"Mom?" she repeated, a little louder. "Mom, wake up."

Her eyes filled with tears, although she wasn't sure she understood why. Her whole body was stiff and full of terror unlike anything she'd ever known before. She reached out and shook her mother's shoulder. She didn't respond the right way. Frisk put a hand to her cheek and gasped. Her skin wasn't warm like it should be. It didn't move like normal skin.

Tears spilled from her eyes and clouded her vision as she shook her mother again and cried out to her.

"MOM!" she shrieked, slapping the woman's arm. She fell to her knees and shoved her face into her mother's stomach, bawling.

She didn't know how she knew what was going on. She'd never seen a dead body before, but somehow, she knew her mother was dead.

What she didn't notice, however, were the bruises on her neck.

Sans dropped the human in his hold unceremoniously to the hard concrete ground. Daryl grunted and made an attempt to get up. Sans let him try. Humans weren't accustomed to teleporting, so it was common for them to be dizzy and unsteady after they experienced it.

"We need to have a talk," Sans started. "You see, that girl is mine to terrorize, and I'm very possessive of what's mine."

Daryl huffed a laugh. "You're not even real. I got some bad drugs."

Sans quirked his mouth and nodded. "Possible, I s'pose. That ain't gonna make what I do t'ya any less real." He reached out and grasped the human's soul again, lifting him into the air and dragging him closer. "Do you know what happens to monsters who hurt children?"

Daryl shook his head. "I'm not a monster."

"Could'a fooled me. Monsters who hurt children, they come to me. I hurt them. I tear 'em apart and make 'em wish they'd never been born. Get where this is goin'?"

"I'm human!" Daryl shouted.

Sans laughed sadistically. "You ain't no human, fucker. You hurt a kid, there ain't nothin' worse than what you are."

"What are you going to do to me?" The man's voice shook as he spoke.

Sans grinned, showing off his sizable fangs and glimmering, gold canine. Instead of answering the question, he shoved the tips of his claws into Daryl's chest. The lights in his eye sockets met Daryl's wide, terrified eyes as his nails began to scrape harshly downward. Daryl screamed in agony, blood oozing from the scratches.

"You screamin' already? Damn, you're weak. We got so much further to go." He lifted his hand to his mouth and made a show of creating a glowing, red tongue to lick the blood off his bones. "That shit tastes good." He had missed the smell and taste of blood.

"SANS!" another voice boomed through the large, empty space.

Sans rolled his eyes and sighed. He thrust his hand forward, causing Daryl to fly and smash against the far wall.

"Stay here," he growled. "And just to make sure you don't try to run…" he flicked his wrist and watched with a satisfied grin as Daryl's legs snapped in half, bending the wrong way at the knees. The answering scream echoed throughout the empty space. "That's better."

"SANS, WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? WHY ARE YOU NOT UNDER THE CHILD'S BED DOING YOUR FUCKING JOB?"

"Hey, Boss," Sans said with a deferential smile. "I'll go back. I caught this scumbag hurtin' my charge."

Boss stared down at Sans with a hateful gleam in his sockets. "HURTING YOUR CHARGE HOW?"

"Makin' her suck his cock."

Boss was silent for a second, his sharp brow bones furrowed. "BUT SHE'S A CHILD."

Sans nodded. "Yep, and now he's gonna get his innards beat outta him before I go back and scare my kid."

Boss thought about that for a second before he nodded. "WELL DONE, SANS."

Sans bowed his head in gratitude before he watched Boss leave. Fucker.

Alone again, he turned back to Daryl. The man was crying openly and praying for forgiveness, swearing he'd never hurt anyone again.

"Damage is done, my friend," Sans said as he sauntered up to the man. "You royally fucked up. I ain't been able to do this in a long time, and I missed it. I'm gonna keep you alive as long as I can."

With that, he lifted Daryl up with magic and brought his claws to his stomach, drawing a swirling design in his skin. "Might not be that long."

Daryl whimpered. "Please, I'm so sorry. I won't touch her again."

"You already said that." Sans slid a claw down Daryl's chest, slicing easily through his skin.

"You told me I should beg. I'm begging. What else do you want?"

Sans chuckled and gave the other man a dark grin. "I want you to bleed. And, actually, I didn't say you should beg; I just asked if you were gonna."

"You can't do this to me. I have a family; they'll miss me—they'll wonder where I am and come looking for me."

As Sans pretended to consider the human's words, he dug a claw into his shoulder, smiling as Daryl screamed.

"You don't have a fuckin' clue where you are, do ya?"

He added a finger to the hole he'd created in Daryl's skin, stretching and tearing it open further and deeper into muscle tissue. He watched in delight as blood flowed down the human's pale skin. It really had been far too long.

"I'm…" Daryl looked around as if he might see a familiar landmark. Instead, blackness and cracked concrete surrounded him. "I'm in a building."

Sans snorted and dragged a claw down, opening the wound even further. It now ran from the top of his shoulder down to his armpit. He reached inside, pushing all four fingers to the side, and watched the skin bulge toward the middle of his chest as he explored and dug down to reach bone. He curled one claw under a rib.

"Buddy, you're in hell." He ripped his hand out, smirking as blood spattered his face and Daryl's scream echoed around him.