5. Knocks
[[File 5.1 HI-20140202-1-1]]
Although he had suspected, even before he accepted the position, that work would be boring as a sentry, it never ceased to amaze him how terrifically boring the job turned out to be. The entire purpose of sentry duty was to watch for humans. The fact monsters lived deep in the underground ensured humans never came.
Meaning… a sentry… had… literally… nothing… to ever do.
Some of the guards and sentries whose stations lingered closer to civilization found time to slip into town for short breaks or interact with passing travelers. For them, perhaps, the sentry position paid well and they managed to spend their hours enjoyably. For Sans, whose station hid deep within the recesses of the forest, he could not simultaneously manage his post and keep himself entertained. Sans could either excuse himself from his station, ignore his job description, and mill about somewhere interesting, or he could sit under the dullest roof in the underground, watching branches barely move on a windless day.
Typically, he elected to do something more stimulating than tree watching.
Sentries could wander about their station so long as they remained in their designated area and returned to their booth frequently. Over time, Sans had learned precisely how much he could dally without infuriating his boss, squeaking by with the minimum amount of work accomplished short of being fired. Today, he would spend little time at his assigned station. He slipped right past it and headed deeper into the woods.
Though unfrequented, eventless, and dull, the deep forest boasted one fascinating feature. Sans could spy it before him, first by simply glimpsing bits of purple color between the branches of the pines, and then by spying the walls in their full glory. The Ruins.
These Ruins loomed high above him. Violet stone crumbled down from steep stone towers, and endless brick walls abruptly halted the sea of trees. Snowdin Forest ended unexpectedly with the proud remains of an ancient civilization. Its wall cut from north to south; and no mind how far north or how far south Sans had traveled, he had never reached the end of that wall. There appeared to be no route around these Ruins.
There seemed to be no route into the Ruins, either.
Thus far, Sans had only located one entrance into the derelict wall. He headed there now. The path on which he tread led straight to an enormous set of ancient double doors. Two thick Doric columns held up an arched stone pediment, carved with an old but familiar monster symbol in which three equilateral triangles, two pointing upward and one downward, rested beneath a winged circle. Only the pediment was decorated. The door itself contained no marks – at least, none intended by the original architects – though many scratches and indentations marred the purple doors now. Likely, the damages had been caused by monsters attempting to open the entrance and explore inside the Ruins. Sans himself, in curiosity, had attempted to open the Ruins doors once, yet had found them, disappointingly, locked. No amount of magic appeared to evoke a response and force the doors open, either. He had admittedly not tried that too long – he was getting lazy in life, truthfully – but instead he had contented himself with the knowledge this entrance could not be opened, and that the only entertainment he could glean out of the doors was to sit outside them.
He could not precisely explain what lured him to the doors. Perhaps they simply seemed interesting compared to the rest of the woods. Perhaps his old thirsts for knowledge and research drew him toward this little mystery. Perhaps he had settled into a habit of walking by them, and could not bear to break the routine now.
Either way, Sans settled outside the doors. He seated himself in the snow, ignoring the cold, and leaned up against the sturdy slabs.
Raising up a left fist, he rapped on the door.
Another routine.
"knock knock," he chuckled to himself.
Maybe he just came to these doors to practice knock knock jokes. The physical action of knocking on a door made it more entertaining, somehow. Sans had probably played this game a dozen times with himself this last month.
He pretended to hear a response.
"Who's there?" that monster would ask.
With a mischievous smirk, Sans responded to the nobody, "who."
"Who who?"
"heyanow, are you an owl?"
At this point, his listener would probably groan and shoot him a glare. That was always funny. Sometimes, the reactions were more hilarious than the jokes themselves.
Imagining the pained pun faces, he knocked on the door again. "knock knock." The door resonated with the sound of his knock.
"Who is there?"
Sans froze. SOUL jolted in shock inside his ribcage. He knew his eyesockets had blackened for a moment. Did he actually just hear someone respond…
…from inside the Ruins door?
Complete. Silence.
He recovered quickly, closing his eyes, and pretending as though he had expected a real, living audience from the start. In a voice that sounded remarkably collected and casual, he returned, "dishes."
He waited and wondered if he would hear someone speak again.
The high-pitched voice of a woman vibrated right next to his skull, close to his external auditory meatus, just on the opposite side of the door. It sounded as though this surprising guest was leaning against the door herself. And though he could not see her and knew nothing about her, he could sense a lonely eagerness to her voice as she responded, "Dishes who?"
He could only respond one way. With the punchline.
"dishes a very bad joke."
The thickness of the door muffled none of her loud guffaws. Hysterical laughter erupted from the other side of the door, high pitched shrieks shaking the door behind Sans' back and whacking him in the skull. The noise continued on and on for several minutes, well over the time most individuals laughed over the best of jokes. The entire time, Sans simply stared ahead, feeling the door rattle behind him, attempting to comprehend what was occurring.
There was someone who lived on the other side of the door!
And she was here! Right! Now!
Her chortles finally settled down, though intermittent giggles rose up several times when Sans had thought her laughter complete. He could feel himself smiling a little, now, just from hearing her laugh. Nothing could be more infectious than someone laughing, especially from an audience member who clearly had been deprived of good conversations and jokes for some time. It prompted him to rise up his fist again, rap at the door behind him, and bait her a second time, "knock knock."
She jumped upon his words. "Who is there?" Strange, aged formality accompanied child-like eagerness.
"crepe."
"Crepe who?"
"crepe to meet you."
The laughter which accompanied his punchline came with a delighted squeal. She seemed to wholly appreciate the appropriateness of the joke. Sans' own smile was widening.
"knock knock."
"Who is there?"
"anna."
"Anna who?"
"annather knock knock joke!"
He continued pounding them out. He exuberantly threw his hand onto the door and banged with excited force.
"knock knock."
"Who is there?"
"dozen."
"Dozen who?"
"dozen anyone know who i am?"
Again and again.
"knock knock."
"Who is there?"
"colin."
"Colin who?"
"colin to see how you're doin'."
Each time, she responded with enthusiastic howls.
A thick, bass-booming bump all of a sudden jerked him forward and interrupted the stream of jokes. He glanced back, startled, then realized what he had just heard. The monster on the other side of the door was knocking to him now.
"Knock knock!" she exclaimed. Her voice carried a distinct sense of pride and barely-managed amusement, the sort of voice tone which accompanied little children struggling not to snigger.
"whos there?"
"Old lady!"
"old lady who?"
"Oh! I did not know you could yodel!"
Wow. What a beautiful, horrible joke. Amusement parted his jaws into an enormous grin. Laughter shook his belly and a chuckle rose out from his throat. "ehehehehehehehehe…"
Boredom completely forgotten, sentry duties completely forgotten, and with more cheer than he had felt for months, he rose up his hand to knock on the door once more.
[[File 5.2 IH-20150701-3-3]]
He wondered if he should be capturing the human after all.
It's not like that would be difficult to accomplish.
They trailed behind him timidly, very quiet, not speaking, keeping their hands bundled up in their worn sweater sleeves. While the silence might have indicated the human felt some lingering fear toward Sans, he suspected that was not the case. They seemed hesitant to be around him, and uncertain of whether or not they could speak, but worry no longer widened their eyes. In fact, despite his initial prank on the human, and despite the fact they had only shared a single, brief, one-sided conversation together, the little child almost seemed to be… attaching… to him. Certainly, they followed Sans doggedly, tripping through the snow on their stubby legs with a strong determination to match his pace. They could not successfully complete their goal; they kept tripping on their own feet, or sinking too deep into the snow to move, or falling behind simply because Sans had a longer stride.
Seriously though… all it would take for Sans to capture the human would be… to pick them up.
That was it.
Maybe situations would proceed better than the last time ASGORE acquired the seventh SOUL.
And yet…
Sans' memories flashed back to that previous timeline. His shudder came involuntarily. He glanced back at the child floundering helplessly in the snow, thought back to his last encounter with a human. A different timeline, a different unwanted result. Hesitated.
He based his judgment on what he saw before him. The kid yanked at a small ribbon in their hair, wiped their nose on their sweater sleeve, and promptly tripped and fell in the snow. This shy and rather innocent creature, barely four feet tall if even that, appeared completely undangerous. Perhaps their ancestors and their parents and the other adults in their life were much more frightful, but this child… not so much. If Sans had to judge this small human for what they were, he would consider them a far less polluted SOUL than ASGORE.
He could at least give the kid a chance. As uncomfortable as he felt walking alongside this species, better this than a guaranteed world of bloody dust.
so that's it.
don't say a word to my boss about what's going on.
the kid doesn't get captured.
i let them walk with me down to Snowdin… and then…
then…
then… something. not sure what that something is yet.
Sans glanced behind him to check the human had not fallen too far behind. At the moment, they were wrestling with a snowbank, but appeared on the verge of triumphing their battle.
Sans nodded, satisfied with his own decision – unconventional though it might have been – and continued forth. He heard the human crunching behind him a moment later. They had conquered the snowbank.
Slowly the two travelers approached Sans' sentry station, the small, pointed-roof booth he should have frequented well over an hour back. Ironically enough, though the sentry duties required he consistently man that station and monitor the road for travelers, his sidetracked excursion through the woods had led him right into the human.
Or perhaps… not so ironically. He had predicted it, after all.
What Sans did not predict, however, was the six foot tall skeleton pacing frustratedly around the empty booth. A long, tattered, but brilliantly bright orange scarf flew like a dragon in the wind behind him, whisking around his neck as he paced. Gloves of the same bright orange fabric were clutched tightly at his sides, and rubbery orange boots marched furiously through now-well-worn tracks of snow. He had been stomping through the same circular path so long his feet were digging himself into a trench, making him appear a good half foot shorter than he actually was.
Worry seized Sans' SOUL immediately. The last monster he wished to encounter right now was his brother – not with the human in tow. Glancing around frantically, Sans wondered if he could usher the human into some trees. That might prevent Papyrus from spotting the human. As innocent as this little child appeared, Sans wished to take no risks with the human harming his brother. The grim histories and his past experiences with humans had taught him to be cautious.
"SANS! ! ! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?"
He froze. After a short moment, he pulled up a smile and slinked forward. So much for hiding the human. With the small child trailing less than three feet behind him, and Papyrus hailing Sans, he could no longer inconspicuously shove his human shadow away. All he could do now was play casual and hope for the best.
Situations had proceeded smoothly thus far with this human in this timeline. Maybe a good ending could yet be reached.
It was worth a try.
Slouching and shrugging, Sans responded to his brother, "getting work done, finding humans, ya know. that sort of thing." No one, not even Papyrus, would have detected the worry within Sans' voice; only a silly, teasing nonchalance could be heard.
Papyrus failed to detect even that. "I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS," he moaned, somehow not noticing the round, sweatered figure trailing right behind Sans. He continued pacing and gesturing at the piles of empty ketchup bottles littering the sentry station. "ALL YOU DO IS HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION. I SUPPOSE IT'S TOO MUCH TO ASSUME YOU'VE CALIBRATED YOUR PUZZLES?"
"uncalibrated as always, bro. the human i found will have to suffer sans sans-puzzles."
Sans glanced behind him, grinning and winking at the human, hoping this would help them feel more welcome in the situation. They stared, wide-eyed, with an unmistakably baffled expression at the brothers' dysfunctional conversation. A hand hovered before the human; they seemed divided about whether to hold their fingers to their mouth, or whether to reach out toward Sans and Papyrus.
"OH MY GOD!
"IT'S BEEN EIGHT DAYS! ! !
"HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY NOT GET SOMETHING SO SIMPLE DONE IN EIGHT FULL DAYS!?"
"but you've got your puzzles all calibrated, right, bro?"
"YOU CAN JOKE ALL YOU LIKE ABOUT CAPTURING A HUMAN, BUT WHEN THE DAY COMES, WE NEED TO BE PREPARED!"
A voice, neither Sans' nor Papyrus', began squeaking. Both turned slowly toward the human, who was now half-standing, half-crumpled in a ball, and giggling with great amusement. Shrieking out, the child exclaimed, "How can you not seeeeee meeeeee?"
Papyrus' jaw dropped. It almost became unhinged, and he had to reach up a glove to quickly catch it before it dropped to the ground.
"WAIT… IS THAT…" He leaned in to whisper to Sans. "(IS THAT A HUMAN?)"
The whisper sounded rather like a blaring trumpet, words clearly audible not only to Sans, but also to the human beyond them. Dogami and Dogaressa could probably hear him, too, half a mile down the road.
Voice still shaking from fits of laughter, the child said, "Of course, silly! Imma – Imma human!"
"you heard that, didn't you, papyrus? that's a human right there before your eyesockets."
In sudden uncontainable excitement, Papyrus burst into a hectic, foot shuffling dance. His hands flapped wildly in the air and he let out an enormous hoot. "IT'S A HUMAN! IT'S A HUMAN IT'S A HUMAN IT'S A HUMAAAAAAAN!"
The dance stoked even greater laughter from the child. At the same time Papyrus shrieked, the human's high-pitched voice accompanied him in howling merriment.
"Ahahahahahahahaha you're so weeeeeeeiiiiiird!"
At last the tall, floundering skeleton contained himself. Sort of. Whirling straight toward the human, staring at them with eager eyesockets, he directed his words toward the brown-haired newcomer.
"AHEM.
"HUMAN! YOU SHALL NOT PASS THIS AREA!
"I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL STOP YOU!
"I WILL THEN CAPTURE YOU!
"YOU WILL BE DELIVERED TO THE CAPITAL!
"THEN…
"THEN!
"I'M NOT SURE WHAT'S NEXT.
"IN ANY CASE!
"CONTINUE… ONLY IF YOU DARE!
"NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!"
And then, spinning out in another crazed dance, Papyrus rushed past Sans' sentry station, down the road, and toward what would be the location of his first puzzle. Sans knew his brother would await them there, eagerly, with the intent of befuddling the human with the puzzle the taller skeleton had created.
The human was still laughing behind Sans, putting their hand to their mouth to try to stifle some of the giggles. They were quieter than Papyrus had been, but not by much.
"well, that went well," Sans said to himself. He felt somewhat astonished. Papyrus' mood had never been brighter, and the human, on their own end, seemed very happy to be in Papyrus' company. Worries lessening, he thought to himself, maybe things don't have to go so bad with the human after all.
He could pave way to a better future, it looked like.
Now that the child had quieted, Sans turned around with a grin, not a fake mask but something containing genuine cheer. "my brother's been kind of down lately, but seeing you just made his day. he's never seen a human before. don't worry, he's not dangerous – even if he tries to be. whatcha say we go on up ahead and see this puzzle of his?"
"Okay!" said the human.
They trailed right behind Sans, staggering through the snow in wild leaps and fits of giggles, shrieks loud enough to frighten off all birds and rabbits that might be in the nearest five square miles. They could have been an altogether different human than the one Sans first met. His brother certainly loosened the child. No longer timid and silent, the human happily babbled all sorts of nonsense to Sans, everything from how to bake snow pies to how weird Sans' skull looked to how beautiful the ribbon in their hair was to their opinions of Papyrus' 'battle body' to how their mom didn't like the color black to their personal opinion of ferrets to a long narrative of their encounter with a snail-loving old lady they met on the other side of the Ruins door. Everything could be the topic of a conversation. There was no filter and even less sense of restraint for this child.
"How are you a SKELETON?" their happy little high-pitched voice squeaked. They flew gallantly over a twig that rested, flat, on the surface of the snow. Powder flew everywhere as they landed heavily into the snowbank. "That means – that means you should be DEAD, you know!"
"who says i'm not dead?" Sans trolled with a wink.
With a shrieking giggle, they exclaimed, "Don't be silly! Only ghosts are dead!"
"i could be a skeleton ghost."
"No you – no you can't." The human seemed to be quite confident about their knowledge in paranormal metaphysics. "You can be a skeleton. You can be a ghost. But nobody – NOBODY – can be a skeleton ghost."
"is that so?"
"YES so! You CAN'T be both. That would be wrong." Maybe the human mentally categorized skeletons and ghosts as separate Halloween creatures, ensuring they were mutually exclusive concepts. It was always challenging to comprehend a child's train of logic. "Except…" and now the child paused, leaning down and tugging at the sleeve of their sweater. Something thoughtful – at least as much as one so young could be thoughtful – passed over their eyes. They cocked their head to the side and stared at Sans. In the same sort of innocence with which they had talked about ferrets, the human inquired, "…can ghosts also be dust?"
Chills shot up Sans' spine. Though he could not see his own face, he knew that the shining white orbs in his eyes flickered off, and he stared out with gaping, blank black eyesockets.
It was the human's turn to frighten Sans, apparently.
Oh god… how did they know?
Part of him wished to teleport straight to the door of the Ruins and knock hard against the wall, hoping to hear some response from the lady on the other side of the wall. The rest of him knew he could not leave this child out of sight.
Attempting to appear calm, he asked, in what hopefully sounded blasé, "hmm… well let's see… what do you know about dust?"
Fidgeting in a clearly indicative manner, the child lied, "No reason. I just KNOW these things."
"'fraid you lost me there, bucko. what things ya talkin' about?"
"Everything." The child began to stroll forward again, round body rolling over the crest of a hill. Sans trailed after them, neck craning forward to hear their response above the loud crunch of their footsteps. This tiny little ball of innocence spoke in a confident tone that suggested Sans was stupid for not understanding their jump to conclusions. Typical contorted child logic. Except this logic had to be grounded in fact and experience.
"I think – I know ghosts are made of dust. It's because you can't touch ghosts. They're nothing and dust is nothing too."
"you… haven't happened to 've seen a ghost, have you?"
"No."
"that's a lie, isn't it." No more playful speech to the child now. A call-out, a demand, a grim glare.
The human squirmed. Their fingers fidgeted on the sweater sleeves for so long that the cuffs began to unravel. Finally, they said, avoiding eye contact with Sans the entire time, "I had a dream. She died, the old lady, she died, but it wasn't MY fault. She stood in the way and she TOLD me to. The goat lady was in my dream, and she told me that monsters are evil, and she said that monsters were evil, and then she said I couldn't leave, but I said I WANT to – to leave I do want to leave. And then… and then… she's dust and it wasn't my fault but she's a ghost and she's dust but that's all just a dream it wasn't real you know. But it is right because dreams are always right, well dreams like this are."
Accustomed to quantum physics jargon but not young child's babblings, Sans paused to parse through the narration.
"that's, uh, quite the dream there, kiddo."
They trudged along in silence. Even the child's voice had been stilled again, and they shuffled forward with the uneasy knowledge that they had upset their companion.
"alright. ya know what.
"you can keep walking through the forest by yourself. stay on the path.
"i've got some things to do. uh, see ya around."
He ran straight into the trees, not even attempting to act collected. As soon as the first line of trunks hid him from sight, he teleported.
come on… old lady… you better be okay…
[[File 5.3 HI-20150624-1-2]]
A discomfited giggle arose from the other side of the door, yet it sounded so pained she might have been sobbing instead of laughing.
He paused before attempting another joke. "knock knock," he said.
"Who is there?" The words sounded rote, forced.
He continued the joke despite his audience's current clear disinterest in comedy. He was not speaking this joke for the laughs, anyway.
"penny."
"Penny who?"
Hoping she would understand the meaning behind his punchline, he finished, "penny for your thoughts."
Silence answered him instead of laughter. For a moment, he worried that this latest knock knock joke had unsettled her. The two of them over the last month had exchanged countless hours of jokes to one another, and had laughed readily enough, yet it was something else entirely to ask for someone's serious side. They did not even know one another's name – why would he expect her to confide in him and explain her current troubles?
He was not even sure himself he wished to know. They were simply joke partners, not close friends or anything.
And yet… she responded.
Her voice returned so quietly he almost did not hear her. Sans leaned up closer to the side of the door as the old woman mumbled, "If a human ever comes through this door… could you please, please, please promise something?"
…a human? what's she talking about…?
"uhhh…"
"Watch over them, and protect them, will you not?"
Sans suspected that this woman had, in fact, already met a human on her side of the Ruins. There could be no other motivation for her request. Yet with this information in mind, and the knowledge that soon Sans might need to enact his actual sentry duties, he paused.
Memories flickered over him, one after another.
Past experiences.
Visions of the future.
Screams.
Dust.
Laughter.
Celebration.
Uncertainty whether any of this would be relived again.
He sat, stunned, utterly speechless. A human lashing out with knife in hand, dangerous gleam in their eyes; a human curiously examining an orange scarf in the snow; a human treading over the metal cogs of a broken robot; a laboratory silenced and without an occupant; the entire underground muted in fear; the entire underground falling to dust; a legion of warriors rushing away, screaming, as humans overtook them… he could envision it all so, so clearly. How could he explain to her…?
"Please?" she asked, her voice even softer than before. Apparently, she would not accept silence as an official answer.
After a low, awkward cough, he responded, "i, uh, don't like making promises."
"This is very important."
"i know." Anything involving humans was of the utmost importance to monsters.
The wrong choice could lead to utter disaster.
Oh, he knew that all too well.
His bones rattled.
He could not make the promise.
Complete silence reigned, and neither spoke.
"I know what the king wants," she at last said sullenly. "What ASGORE does with the human souls that pass through the underground. But he is wrong to kill the humans that come here."
Uncomfortable, Sans nodded, despite the fact he was uncertain he agreed with her… then realized she could not see his motions on the other side of the door, anyway.
"uh, yeah.
"ok." He pulled up his hand and rubbed at his forehead, barely believing him speak these words. "ok, you've got my promise.
"keep the human safe, that's what i'll do."
Oh, but how much he hated promises. Especially promises like this.
Who knew what the human would be like when they walked into the monster world? He could only trust the old lady would only let pass some human who would not be a threat.
[[File 5.4 IH-20150701-3-4]]
Dread tingled through his spine. He could feel the entire spinal column trembling, bones rattling, kneecaps cracking together in fearful anticipation, as he stepped toward the enormous double doors.
As he had so many times before, he knocked.
And waited in deathly silence.
Sometimes she never responded. Sometimes several minutes passed as she trudged to the door to reply. Usually, though, she answered a mere second after he knocked. They knew one another's schedules at this point, understood Sans typically visited the Ruins mid-afternoon...
…and it was mid-afternoon right now.
So it seemed strange that today she provided no response.
she's just coming down. she's a little late today, is all. she'll respond in a moment.
His knuckles rapped on the door again, a little louder this time.
Never hurt to pound loudly, just in case she did not hear the first time. He did suspect the monster on the other side of the door was very old, so he could not be certain about her hearing.
Waiting.
He could barely hold down his worried anticipation.
Waiting.
No response.
With his entire forearm, from capitulum to carpals, he pounded, pounded, pounded. After a solid ten seconds of assaulting the door, he shouted out, "knock knock!"
Nothing.
"knock knock!"
More frantic pounding. "knock knock, knock knock, knock knock, knock knock! ! !"
He counted the seconds, breathing heavily… one… two… three… four… five…
By the time he reached twenty-five, he had fallen against the doorway, slumped, sliding down, until he sat leaned up against the unbudging entrance. He felt his back pressed against the solid slab, just as he had sat the day they met.
"knock knock," he whispered.
Only his imagination responded, "Who is there?"
"nobody."
"Nobody who?"
"nobody… but me…"
