Well, after half a year this story finally gets to the final chapter. (My internet did not want to cooperate. I didn't get a lot of time to write, sorry) I tried to give this one a bit of a creepy feel to it, and if you have any thoughts on how terribly un-scary the "creepy" parts were, don't be afraid to go on a long rant in the reviews below.

Anyway, if I owned Undertale it would probably be half the game it actually is. Heck, I'd probably add an entire room dedicated to the Baby Sun from Teletubbies due to... *cough* *cough* peer pressure, (You'd add that out of your own free will) so you should be grateful that I don't own Undertale.

This thing was frickin painful to finish. Enjoy the product of my suffering.


The clock read five minutes until midnight.

And counting.

...

Yet the sun still shone high in the sky.

The human looked around him, confused. Just a moment ago, he had been underground, pushing open the doors into a giant majestic building, and now he had the sun shining in his face. His eyes darted about the room, suspicious of any possible hint that this was a trick.

He took a cautious step forward, the wooden floor creaking under his weight. Noticing the faint light coming from the doorway, he slowly began to step towards it. His senses on high alert, the human slipped in behind the door, his revolver raised. Without a second thought, the human spun around to face whatever was inside; only to find a woman standing in a kitchen, humming a tune.

The sound of sizzling filled the air as the strange woman shifted the item in the frying pan, while the human lowered his weapon, confused. None of this made sense. First the sun and now another human?

Then, the tune abruptly ceased. The woman stiffened, and a sickly sweet voice flowed out of her lips. "Oh! We've been expecting you."

The human stepped back. A voice inside his head told him something was terribly wrong.

Then, the woman turned around, and in the same harmonious voice, said, "You're just in time for supper, dear."

The moment he caught sight of her face, the human's revolver was pointed straight at the woman's head, his eyes widened in fear. Her face looked completely normal except for one minor detail; in the place of her eyes were two swirling black pits oozing with a strange black substance.

The creepy woman frowned in disapproval. "Now what did I say about using weapons in the house?" she said.

The human felt a shiver run up his spine. A trace of fear flashed through his eyes, his revolver trembling in his hands. His mouth opened to speak, only to close again. The floorboards creaked under his feet further than they should have, like they were going to sink into an abyss waiting under the ground, and his heart jumped to his throat.

"Where are you going, my child?" the woman asked, her tone unchanging.

The human didn't respond, keeping his gun level with the woman posing as his mother. One step became two. This time it felt like the entire house was swaying. Suddenly, the human turned around, and broke into a run towards the door behind him, wanting to put as much distance between him and whatever the thing in the kitchen was. Suddenly, his path was obstructed by another smaller boy. His eyes too were nothing more than two pits of darkness as deep as eternity.

"Clauve? When did you come back?" The boy said, a delightful cheer in his voice.

The human screeched to a halt and his weapon snapped up to point directly at the new obstacle. The creature did not seem to take notice. The human glanced over his shoulder to see the walls behind shifting, contracting in and out as if they were breathing. The human suddenly felt as if the walls were going to cave in at any second, and had the sudden urge to get out as fast as possible.

"The others said-" the boy was cut off as the human shoved him to the side. He thrust out his arm to catch himself against the wall and stared back at the human as he rushed past. "Oh," the boy said, disappointed. "I guess you're not in the mood for company. As usual."

Each footstep sounded like thunder as his heart raced, and the creaking of the walls did nothing to calm his spirit. Taking one last peek over his shoulder, the human caught sight of the boy's eyes dripping out onto the floor at an alarming rate. An inky pool formed at the feet of the human as his eyes broke down, and cracks of darkness crept out of his eye sockets and onto the rest of his face. The human felt a vile taste rise up at the back of his tongue at this grotesque sight.

With a clap, the entire house began to fold in on itself. Walls crumbled to the ground, dust hailed down from the ceiling as the planks above snapped in half. The floor underneath the human became elongated, and the hall seemed to stretch out before him. The distance between him and the door only seemed to increase with every stride, only pushing the human even further. Nails began to pop out from the ground underneath him as the floorboards snapped apart, revealing an empty void beneath. The human pushed himself to go faster as the floor behind him broke apart. Just when it seemed as if the void would catch up to him, sending him tumbling to the infinite void below, the floor snapped forward again as if it were stretched rubber, and the human was sent flying out of the door.

A blanket of grass with a handful of clovers sprinkled in between rushed up from the ground to meet him as he was sent stumbling out the door. He barely managed to stay on his feet as he took a few unsteady steps on the plush vegetation, only to regain his sense of balance a second later. The dark shadow of some kind of bird passed overhead with a soft screech. As he planted his feet firmly on the ground, steadily straightening himself, a new presence blocked out the sun. His head lifted his head to the sky. Two pitch-black eyes as the night stared right back.

In an instant the revolver was back up again, pointing at the boy who had appeared out of nowhere. The second human seemed to be completely ignorant of the weapon completely pointed at his face, his expression remaining completely unchanging.

"Clauve?" the boy said in surprise. Then his lips twisted into a scowl. "Back already? You wouldn't happen to have the money I lent you a while back, would you?"

The human stepped back in fear. His knuckles turned white as his grip on the gun tightened. Already he could feel the weapon begin to slip from his sweat-coated hand. The second boy's scowl only deepened, and he stepped forward as well, completely disregarding the fear radiating from the human.

"Is that a no?" he growled, his tone dropping several octaves as his hands clenched into fists. "The money I gave you was due back last week, and I gave you an extension of a week yet still you claim to not have the money." The boy's hand fell to his hip, firmly gripping the knife hanging there and plucking it off the belt. "You know what happens to those who go back on their word against me, do you?" he said, pointing his weapon at the human's chest. "They die."

It was then that the revolver went off. Blood splattered all over the floor, and suddenly the grass fluttering on the ground did not look as bright and sunny as before. What chilled the human, however, was the fact that the creature did not seem to mind the messy hole tearing through his face. He just stumbled back a bit, a clattering noise sounding off as the knife he was holding dropped to the floor, only to quickly regain a steady balance. A cold, foreboding breeze crept past, and as the human felt goosebumps begin to rise, the blood on the grass turned a sickly shade of black.

"So that's how it is?" the creature said, his voice now sounding like the hissing of a burning blaze.

The human turned to the right and ran as fast as he could, fear giving him an extra jolt of energy to move his legs faster. A glimmer of light caught his attention, and he glanced over to the side to see a mirror propped against a wall. The creature was shown in the mirror, standing in the same place as before, just watching as the human fled. The creature abruptly melted into a formless blob on the floor, before that too disappeared into the grass.

The world around him suddenly seemed to be thrown into madness. The flora under his feet felt as if it were reaching out and attempting to drag him down. The houses lining the side of the street swayed with the grass below, wooden planks creaking and groaning as if they were going to break into pieces despite the wind having barely any force behind at all.

Then the voices started to appear. Barely louder than a haunting breeze, at first the words seemed like nothing more than gibberish. Then they got louder, steadily increasing in volume like the storm clouds that had suddenly appeared in the sky. Ghastly faces pressed themselves up against the windows of the buildings on the edge of the road, words drifting out of their mouths as they hung open.

"Returned."

"Revenged."

"Righteous and just."

The voices circled around the human, their mocking sing-song tone only helping to put him even more on edge. Then the voices started to hiss, their words becoming more mocking.

"Ghastly."

"Ragged."

"Monster."

"Bloodlust."

"Murderer."

The human's eyes zapped about in his rapidly escalating fear. He stumbled through the street, and a chill swept through his body. He did not know what was going on; what he did know was that it was something to be feared.

Then, the windows shattered into pieces. Glass shards littered the green creeping in on the side of the road, and with nothing holding the ghostly faces back, they burst onto the streets. The human's heart sped up drastically as the ghosts started to chase him, tormenting words flowing out of their mouths like a stream of acid. Just as their prickly fingers began to tickle his ankles, his foot met nothing but air, and he found himself falling into a room at the feet of another.

At once he was on his feet, his revolver at the ready. A solid hand slowly pushed the weapon to the floor, and for once the human met two striking blue eyes. His stance relaxed a bit, though his eyes remained suspicious, quickly scanning the form of the girl standing before him.

"Clauve," the girl said, her hands held up defensively. "Don't worry. It's me, Ilsabon."

A look of relief passed through the human's face, relieved that he had finally encountered a friendly face. With a cheerful smile, the girl sat down at a small table, beckoning him to sit down with her.

"Why don't you join me for tea?" she asked cheerfully.

The human sat down without a sound, slipping the revolver back in its holster. The girl poured him some tea from the teapot, steam embracing the human's face as it rose from the cup.

"Cigarette?" the girl asked, pulling a box out of a drawer.

Confusion presented itself on the human's face. He hesitantly reached for the box, keeping a suspicious glare on the box as he flicked it open and plucked a cigarette.

The girl flashed him a smile. "Weird, right? This place seems to know everything about us, down to the box of cigarettes I kept for you at my house."

The human swiped at his chin, and his eyes trailed off in thoughtfulness as he pulled out his lighter. With a click, a spark fluttered out of the machine, sinking into one end of the cigarette. The human popped it into his mouth, causing one end to glow faintly.

After a second, the human pulled the cigarette back out again, and he opened his mouth to speak only for the girl to cut him off. "So, you're probably wondering what I am doing here, and what is going on with this place?"

A squeak came from the window, and the pair looked to the side. One of the disfigured faces smudged itself against the glass, just staring at the two beings inside. The girl just pulled the shades over the window, before turning her attention back to her companion. The human slowly closed his mouth again, and nodded.

"Well," the girl said, taking a sip from her teacup, "You probably thought I was dead, but the truth is I never really died. I've been stuck here for a really long time."

The human looked skeptical, but it passed like a fleeting breeze.

"I've done a bit of exploring, and from what I've found, this place seems far too big to be contained in a building, even one as large as this one," the girl continued. "I've come to the conclusion that this place is some kind of magical illusion, meant to keep us here until the monsters let us out. When that time will come, I don't really know." Then she stopped, and her spirits seemed to brighten once more. "But now with you here, maybe we'll be able to find a way out of this place!"

Again, the human nodded slowly, fiddling idly with the golden locket around his neck. Not a second had passed, when the human's fingers froze around the locket, and he suddenly seemed to recall a humanoid dog monster boast to him about how he had killed a human before with his weapon. Surely this girl must have died.

Suddenly, the girl exclaimed, "Shoot! I almost forgot!"

The human gave her an inquisitive look, curious as to what she was going to say, his previous train of thought temporarily forgotten.

"You might have heard some words that could be associated with my death. Well, as it turns out, there have been humans before us that have not been as lucky as us."

A confused look spread itself on the human's face. On one hand, perhaps that dog monster had not been talking about her. Then again, he had known this girl to be rather sporadic, but the fact that she had just addressed words that had been only a thought in his head was rather suspicious. Though it might be just a coincidence.

Then, the human let the girl's words sink in. There had been other humans before them, all of which must have met their demise at the monstrous creatures of the Underground? His thumb flicked the drum of his revolver as his mind went to thoughts of vengeance. Surely it would be a good thing to avenge the poor souls who had come before. Justice must be served to the murderers of the innocent people; What was stopping them from doing so?

"You want to avenge them?" The girl's cry snapped the human out of his thoughts. "Our first priority should be to get ourselves out of here, not going on a mass murdering campaign. Besides, we don't even know those people! Why should we care about avenging them?"

The human raised a hand to insist that bringing justice should be unconditional, but he stopped. Was he that easy to read? All he had done was flick the barrel of his gun. Not a single word had even left his lips; he was sure about it. His hands went back to his locket, his fingernails clicking against the gold as his mind raced in confused and suspicious thoughts.

The girl seemed to notice the clicking, as her eyes fell on the golden locket.

"Is that the locket I gave to you?"

The human glanced at the metal he held in his hands. Then he looked back at her and nodded. A finger pressed down on the button on the side, and with a click, the locket opened. Inside was a photo of the girl, her eyes glimmering against the light above her.

"You didn't leave this behind," the girl said, seeming a bit intrigued. "You came here for me, didn't you?"

The human nodded, and the ghost of a smile traced itself on his lips.

"Then, knowing you, Clauve, you came here to avenge me, didn't you?"

Once more, the human nodded his head in confirmation.

The girl turned around, a worried frown displayed on her face, and began to pace around the room. "You didn't tear up the Underground searching for my killer, did you? Even if they're monsters, you still should know better than to hack and slash your way across the countryside. How do you think that monster felt when you detonated a grenade at her face?"

A click sounded off behind her as the revolver's drum rolled into place. The worried look on her face was washed away in an instant, replaced by a cold glare at the wall. For a moment, the thick tension was left to stretch the atmosphere. Then the girl spoke.

"It was the grenade part, wasn't it," the girl said, her voice no longer containing the warmth it had moments ago. "Oh well, I was planning on dropping my masquerade sooner or later."

Then, for the first time since he had been thrown into the Underground, the human's lips moved, and words spilled out like boiling water from the pot. "What have you done with her?"

The girl's mouth twisted into a surprised smile. "Nothing," she said, her voice overflowing with a strange satisfaction. "She's dead, just as you presumed before."

"Then justice shall be served!" the human said, practically roaring with rage.

The moment the bright flash of light erupted from the barrel, time seemed to slow to a crawl. The girl's lips parted, flashing the teeth underneath, only this time, they weren't blunt, like the teeth of a human, but jagged and sharp. Her eyes rolled up into their sockets, and the revealed blank whites glowed a deep blue hue. She twisted to the side, the bullet barely grazing her stomach. In an instant, she snapped back again, and her arm lurched forward with inhuman speed. A silver blur streaked across the room, embedding itself in the cloth of the human's sleeve, pinning his arm to the wall behind.

The human tore his jacket from the wall, leaving a jagged hole in his sleeve, only for another knife to plunge into the flesh of his arm, causing the weapon to clatter to the floor. His hand was over the wound in an instant, as a gasp of pain escaped his lips. He was spared only a second before a third knife sailed toward him. The human twisted his head to the side, the blade missing his nose by a millimeter. Then, he snapped back, diving to the ground to retrieve his fallen revolver. A series of wooden noises sounded off behind, signaling that his attacker was determined to keep up their onslaught.

The moment his fingers were firmly grasped around his weapon, the human rolled aside as a knife cut into the wall beside him. Quickly he jumped to his feet and fired, the sound of the explosion rattling the fragile plates on the cupboards above. The girl didn't move an inch as the bullet zoomed toward her head. The human only closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened again, the girl was still standing, the bullet lodged between her teeth.

Her smile widened, her teeth glistening in the dim light. She spat the bullet out to the side, before turning back to the human, brandishing the knives in her hands. A cackle emerged from her lips, as cold and cruel as the winter wind, and with that, shards of glass showered down onto the floor as the windows finally gave in. Disfigured faces swept into the room, shrieking and howling, all of them locked onto the human.

The girl lunged after the human, knife in hand, forcing the human to step back. He reached out behind him, his hands searching for a solid surface. He felt a pane of glass behind him, but the moment his fingers grazed the cold surface, it burst open, leaving him nothing to lean back on.

His back hit a soft carpet of green, sharp pieces of glass piercing into his sides. A second later, ghastly spirits burst through the shattered window, crying for his blood. The moment the human was on his feet, he broke into a run. Wind brushed against his face, its howling almost loud enough to drown out the cries of the ghosts behind him. Leaves were swept up from the floor, swirling around the human's feet as they were tossed in the wind. Branches were thrown to him in a frenzy as if even the trees were against him, but still, he pressed on.

Taunting words slithered into the human's ears in a continuous onslaught as the spirits behind him drifted in the wind, their gnarly hands reaching for his feet as he battled against the wind. Each step seemed fruitless with the wind pushing him back. Crimson drops of blood spilled from the wound in his arm like a scattered red ribbon trailing from his arm, only to be lost into the soil below. The human's arm was braced against his face to shield his eyes from the branches that sailed his way. He was being attacked from all sides as if the forest itself was trying to bring him down.

Then it all stopped. In a snap, the voices were gone. The wind faded away, and the leaves settled down to the forest floor once again. In an instant, an eerie calm had taken over the forest.

With a huff, the human sat down on a rock to gather his breath and recollect his thoughts. So the only friendly face here turned out to be nothing more than a facade. At least he knew that none of this was real and that he would have to find a way out. Or maybe that too was a lie. He remained on the rock for a while, keeping his mind on the matter.

As he pondered his thoughts, he shifted his feet, noting how soft and squishy the ground felt under his feet. He thought this was a bit strange, but it wasn't really something too notable.

Then again, with the way everything else had gone it wasn't too far-fetched to believe that it might have a more sinister underlying secret.

Slowly, the human reached a hand down to the soil. He secured a handful of dirt between his fingers, noting how wet and slimy it felt in his palm. Carefully, he brought it to his face expecting something grotesque and chilling.

Soft brown earth was all that he saw in his grasp. As dirt slipped out of his hand, he breathed a sigh of relief. He let the rest of the soil fall back to the forest floor, scattering it about. With a clap of his hands, he wiped the remains off his hands. He relaxed, sure that he was safe. Then he caught sight of the other side of his hands.

Almost instantly, his mind was swept away with fear at the sight of his palms covered in blood. He leapt to his feet, alarmed, and his eyes scanned the floor only to see that the soil had all been turned blood red.

Something flashed at the edge of his line of sight, and he turned around. His eyes landed on the rock he had just moments again been sitting on. With a trembling hand, he picked it off the ground, inspecting its smooth grey surface. He blinked, only to find himself holding a human skull. The human dropped it in terror, keeping his gaze on the skull for a moment.

He lifted his eyes to his surroundings, only to find the trees now had faces, their mouths open in a never-ending scream. His gaze turned to the empty branches, only to find strands of thick yellow slime hanging from them.

The human stepped back. His heart hammered against his chest, his face white with fear. All rationality was thrown out the window, and his mind was focused on one thing only; to get out of this unnatural place.

So he ran. Leaves swept up under his feet with each step. The human shoves tree branches aside as he fled, his heart racing as his eyes flitted from side to side. The air was hazy and thick, and reeked with the stench of flesh. At every turn, with every footfall something strange and creepy seemed to be hanging from the trees or splayed out on the ground. Not a second was spared for the human to rest.

Then the world began to fade. It started with the colors slowly fading from murky shades of red and yellow to a deathly pale color. Then the shapes too began to break down. With every inch, the trees and stones grew smaller and their surfaces lost their rough edges. The sky slowly broke off, with sickly gold slipping into nothingness.

The human began to slow his pace as the world vanished into nothing, objects and colors disappearing before his very eyes. Finally, there was nothing left except the empty white void. Still, he assumed that anywhere would be better than the horrifying place.

The blank space seemed to stretch on forever. At first, the human didn't mind, but as seconds turned to minutes, the void turned from a welcome calm to a frantic and eerie nothingness. At least with the place he had been before, there was something there. Here? There was nothing.

So the human was left to walk on his own, onward towards an eternal white emptiness. Several times he contemplated turning around, only to be swayed again in hopes that whatever was at the end would be better than what was at the beginning. So he pressed onward.

The calm, however, provided him with a pointed dagger that only streaked back to its owner; time to think, time to ponder over everything that had occurred. As his mind drifted to all the strange and terrifying things before, it began to wander even farther. And as it wandered, his mind began to crumble. His own cold twisted logic began to turn against itself, and all the righteousness that had filled his head was replaced by the ice cold feeling of raw terror. The irrationality of it all, the twisted look of everything in this prison; it only drove him deeper into madness.

Taunting words, accusing words, murderous words, the very same words that had, moments before, only been spat out like acid from the ghastly faces that trailed behind him now circled inside his own head. Voices accusing him of injustice, of murder screamed loudest of all, but with each sentence of guilt that echoed in his head, he only bit back twice as hard.

Unfairness? They could have blasted me to bits with their magic smick kind of stuff! Of course it's unfair!

Cowardice? Firing a bullet through the back of evil men hardly counts as cowardice if you've earned the right. I'll tell you what's cowardly, committing murder of innocent children!

Injustice? They're all monsters! They've been sealed away for a reason. Killing them is hardly more than they already deserve!

Murder? They're creatures, no more sentient than animals. They can't feel. It won't matter if I put an end to their life.

...

Right?

Then again, Ilsabon disapproved of it. And thinking back, monsters seemed to be able to display certain emotions. Moments before he struck them to the ground, they always seemed to tremble in fear, as if anticipating their own demise.

But it could just be an animalistic response. All creatures were built to care for their own survival. Fear of death could easily be tossed aside as nothing more than a primal instinct.

Willingness to betray one's kind, however... that was something different, wasn't it? The human recalled a brief encounter with a strange fish-like humanoid monster who had killed one of his own to prove to the human that he was willing to assist in his quest for vengeance. It certainly was an illogical move on his end, but humans were mostly illogical as well. The human thought of himself as one above illogical actions, so if anyone knew of humanity's tendency to act based on anything but their intellect it would be him, and this act of betrayal was definitely something he could attribute to a human, but a mindless creature?

And if they were capable of betrayal, might they also be capable of other displays of emotion?

No, it couldn't be. If that were true, it would mean that he was wrong, that he had acted unjustly. He was supposed to be someone who stood for justice, not against it. If it turned out that he was wrong, he might become so ashamed of himself that he might just end his own life. But it would never come to that. Would it?

The human eventually lost track of how long he had been walking in this empty void. He could have been walking for hours, and he would have been none the wiser. Not that he would have cared. The nothingness was all that existed, all that ever was, all that ever will be. The only escape from the void was the madness within, breaking away at the human's sanity, filling in every nook and cranny in his conscious from top to bottom. The white was all there was, and it drove him mad.

Then, finally, something appeared on the horizon. With each step closer, more things began to take shape out of the void. Thin, crooked trees rose out of the ground, and a scrawny winding dirt path bled into the forest floor. Dark blue washed over the sky, forming a dreary starless night sky. As the eerie forest overtook the human's surroundings, one thing remained unchanged; the dead silence. The human would have welcomed any noise to drown out the voices that swirled around in his head, but not even the crickets would chirp for him.

Then, the voices in his head fell silent. He had finally gained control of his head again, reeling in the madness and snuffing it out.

Or had he?

If there was anything that he knew about insanity, it was that it didn't go away at the drop of a hat. Then again, perhaps he was special.

No. There was nothing special about him. His mind couldn't have returned to pristine condition just like that.

But then there had to be a completely logical explanation for this. It killed him not to know what was going on, especially since the matter was over his own head. In his frustration he lashed out, slamming his fist into a nearby tree. The wound on his arm instantly flared, and he clutched his arm in pain. This only made him even angrier, and this time he kicked the tree. With a resounding crack, the trunk splintered, and the small tree toppled over and crashed to the ground. The human, however, was unsatisfied. His hands desired something more... alive; a tree wouldn't do.

There had to be someone controlling this strange, distorted world. Someone who he could satisfy his thirst, and help him to escape this reality. That someone had to be here, and when he found them, he was going to enjoy bringing them an unsightly end.

"Who?" He heard someone called out.

The human snapped his gaze to the trees. Two wide eyes stared back, blinking innocently, belonging to a small rounded figure perched on a low hanging tree branch. In an instant, those two eyes were staring down the barrel of the human's revolver.

"Who?" the human repeated, the words barely more than a whisper. "You're the one behind all of this, aren't you? You're the one who's been messing with my head"

"Who?" the owl said again.

"You. It's you. That's who," the human said, his voice raising.

"Who?"

"You. I'm talking to you," the human said, on the verge of boiling over. "No. This isn't..." He paused for a moment as if his mind were conflicted. Then, he said, "Get out of my head."

"Who?"

"I said, get out of my head!" he growled, more loudly this time. "Get out! Get out!"

"Who?"

"You! It's you!" he screamed, seething with rage. "Get out of my head, or else I'll-" The human's last words dissolved into crazed, furious sputtering, his hands flailing about as he struggled to continue.

Words were pointless, he eventually decided. What he needed to do was end this nightmare. His eyes snapped onto the owl, his entire body trembling with fury. As he looked into the eyes of the creature, for a moment he saw a flash of emotion flicker in its eyes. Then he pulled the trigger.

A bright flash erupted from the barrel. The owl shook on the branch it was perched on, the darkness concealing the wound the bullet left behind on its frail body. A single drop fell to the floor. The owl toppled from its perch at last.

Only, the owl never let go of the branch. Instead, it grew in size as it swung down to the underside of the branch. A meaty thunk sounded off, and the human found himself staring down the glossy wooden hilt of a knife, buried in his chest.

The human stumbled back from the force of the blow, a surprised look on his face. His mouth opened, but the only sound that emerged was a strangled gasp. He lifted his eyes to the figure hanging from the tree. His gaze was returned by the same two eyes from before, and this time he was able to catch a gleam of emotion behind those two eyes; cruel satisfaction. Then, he finally crumpled to the ground, no more alive than the countless monsters he had laid to waste.

The figure hanging from the branch let the cold tense silence linger in the atmosphere for a moment. A second passed before his feet finally let go of the branch. He landed on his feet without a sound, his large angel-like wings spreading out behind him as he fell to the ground. The fringes of his cloak were lifted into the air as a soft breeze trailed underneath, and his eyes fell to the limp body on the floor before him.

With a snap of his fingers, the forest vanished, leaving in its place a dimly lit hallway. The only source of light were the echo flowers carpeting the sides of the floor, giving off a soft blue glow that barely reached the brightly colored ceiling, painted to appear like the sky, raised so high up it might have been the sky itself.

A chuckle escaped the lips of the owl monster as he strode over to the human, his clawed feet clanking against the stones embedded in the soft floor. The owl knelt down to examine the limp body. After a moment, he put his hand on the wooden hilt and slid the knife out of the corpse with a sickening squelch.

"Who?" Talon said once more. "You. That's who." The owl monster fiddled with the knife in his hand as he said, "I expected you to put up a fight, and you did not disappoint. And all the raw terror I was able to collect from that confrontation, that was just beautiful."

A faint smile graced his lips. "Funny how the same steel you used to end so many lives was the same steel that was used to end yours," the owl monster sighed. "This knife was getting rusty and Alow stopped playing around with steel, so I'd thought this old favorite of mine would be heading to its grave. That is, until you came along."

Talon examined the shiny metal blade, his gaze only meeting his own as he stared into his own reflection. "Sure, it isn't the best," he said softly, "but it does its job."

Slowly he moved his hand away from the bottom of the hilt, revealing a glass jar with a bright yellow SOUL, glowing and pulsing with light. "The SOUL extraction knife," he muttered. "Alow would have wanted me to get rid of this." A grin broke out on his face, and he added, "Too bad I haven't listened to anyone other than my sister."

The mood shifted at the drop of a hat. Slowly, the grin faded away, and a guilty look flashed in his eyes. "My sister..." he said, his voice a ghost of a whisper. Talon fell to his knees, and all the positivity in his eyes evaporated in an instant, completely hopeless.


"So, what would you require me to do this time, your Majesty?"

Asgore sighed, his slumped shoulders giving out how stressed he was. A bright white mask stared back in the darkness with expectant glowing eyes, its body shrouded in the darkness. A few seconds of tense silence passed before the king spoke.

"A forgetting spell. On all the monsters in the Underground. That is what I require," he said, his voice downtrodden and depressed. "You would not happen to possess one, would you?"

"As a matter of a fact, I do," the ghostly mask replied, "but it will cost you quite a bit. A spell to fool the senses is one thing, but a spell to perplex the mind is another, especially if I were to use it on the entire populace."

"Hardly any trouble," Asgore said. "I just want to relieve my people of the burden of the memory of this horrific event, and since our aging has been slowed, waiting for it to happen naturally would take a long time."

"As you wish, your majesty." the pale mask replied with a bow. "And I assume you would like me to make an exception for you with this spell?"

Asgore nodded, and the monster turned his gaze to the sky. The soft glow in his eyes intensified, and slowly he rose from the floor. Bright cracks began to form on the floor, reaching out to each other and taking the form of a circular diagram on the floor around him. The light on the ground reached up to the ceiling, illuminating the monster's straight, angular form. As the monster floated up in the air, his gaze locked on to the monster king one more time.

"Do you have any questions before the procedure begins?" he asked, his eyes sparking with magical energy.

Asgore hesitated for a moment, before he asked, "Will the spell affect our aging process?"


Talon felt something lightly brush the back of his mind. He paid no mind to it at first, oblivious in his grief-stricken state. In his head, he reached out for yet another memory of happier times, of times spent with friends, when they were still alive, that is, only to have it slip from his grasp like water in a river.

In an instant, he snapped back into reality, his feathers tucked in at the realization of what was happening. Talon reached out, trying to snare a memory before he lost everything, but to no avail.

"No," he muttered, a lost look in his eyes. "Don't take them from me. They're all I have left." Then, his eyes drifted down to the knife he held in his hands.

With a snap, the jar on the bottom of the handle of the knife came off, clattering to the floor. Shaky feathered hands reached for another jar lying on the ground. Talon attempted to attach the jar onto the knife, but his unsteady hands were unable to complete the task. Again, he attempted to attach the container, only to fail again. The owl monster cursed quietly, frustrated tears threatening to spill out from his eyes. He tried once more to place the container on the knife, and this time he finally managed to hit his mark.

Memories began to wash away at an accelerated rate now, making his actions even more of a desperate struggle. The owl closed his eyes, as he finally turned the blade onto himself, leveling it with his chest. Before the final act, he spoke one last time.

"I would rather die with memories of a better time than to live in misery. My sister would disapprove, but... she's not here, is she?"