A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS PEOPLES! So this was SUPPOSED to go up yesterday but I did not have internet access for most of the day. This is my Christmas present to you, and thank you all for staying with me so long. Have a Merry Christmas and be sure to spend time with the people you love.

It had been a long time since anyone had entered the ruins. She had locked the door to keep monsters out, and yet it stood open. The former queen stared at the open door, confused as to how this could have happened.

She pricked up her ears at the sound of voices. From the sounds of things, they were coming back from exploring the ruins.

'SUCH A PATHETIC, TINY PLACE. THERE WAS NOTHING WORTHWHILE IN HERE.'

'I guess you're right, your majesty… I mean, there was that flower, but he escaped. Heh, that was a failure on our behalf.'

'SHUT UP, ISAAC. I PREFFERED IT WHEN YOU WERE INCAPABLE OF SPEECH.'

'Yes sir. I'll be quiet, sir…' The footsteps padded down the hallway, heading for her. They rounded the corner, and that was when she caught her first glimpse of Isaac. He was a soft, round dog monster with fluffy white fur. He was in grey armour, and carried a spear. He saw her and dropped to all fours, barking at her like a wind-up Pomeranian. He pointed a leg towards her and yapped even louder.

Toriel set her paws alight and threw a fireball at the dog, instincts screaming that this was a dangerous creature that she needed to stay away from. It yelped, dodging it by a hair length. It growled at her, pawing the ground and snarling. Froth built up around its mouth, and its eyes shone the deepest crimson imaginable. It jumped forward, snapping. She dodged to the right, letting the abomination crash into a wall. It let out a loud whimper, sat down, and began to rub its nose. The queen backed away, igniting her paws once more.

She forgot about the dog's master until his arms were tight around her neck, trapping her in a chokehold. She struggled and tried to scream, but only a choked breath came out. Tears ran down her face as she kicked and slapped, but nothing deterred him. Her struggles made him smile. 'HELLO, YOUR MAJESTY.' Then there was nothing but pain from her head. And a blackness so dark that only a tar-covered raven could have been darker.

'Miss Toriel? Please wake up, c'mon…'

The voices vaguely penetrated the blackness she was caught in. They were familiar, though the names jumbled about in her broken mind. The Prophet had torn through it, scavenged for every little bit of information she knew about Sans and the revolution. They were familiar, but she couldn't pin them down. 'Is she awake yet, Daisy?' The voice was male, and had a distinctly European accent.

'Oh god, they went up and above with her torture! What if she dies? I mean, Skye'll have my hide for a coat!' This voice was female, and dripping with New York accent.

'You're all about your master aren't you, Rita? Useless mutt…'

'Shut it Newton! Skye's decent…'

'Tell that to the close call with Undyne you had recently! She uses you as BAIT.' Her eyelids fluttered.

'I think she is waking up…' the last voice was female, and sounded lifeless. Broken.

Toriel opened her eyes, and looking down upon her were three faces. One was the face of a cat, with black and white fur and dead eyes. Another was the face of a newt, his pale blue eyes filled with concern. The final face was of a chocolate brown dog, dark brown eyes shining with relief.

'Phew, gotta admit, thought you were dead there, Miss Toriel.' Rita grinned. Toriel whimpered, pain still shooting through her back.

'Sit still, your majesty. We've healed up your arms and the cuts but we couldn't do the ear or the whipping…' Newton muttered, pushing his glasses further up his nose. Toriel sat up.

'We did bandage you as well…' Daisy whispered in her dead tone. She pressed a hand to her own bleeding chest. Her soft, white paw was now pink. 'Are you okay?'

'Fine, thank you… why did you do this?'

'Cuz' Skye woulda had my hide if I didn't.'

'RITA!' The dog yelped as Newton shouted. 'Anyway, it was my idea to fix you up. Us slaves need to stick together in this bad situation, right?' Newton grinned. 'Then Skye saw us doing so and Rita refusing to help, and told her she had to or she'd be next on the torture block. To be perfectly honest, the mutt has been nothing more than a negative influence.'

'So nothing unusual.' Toriel managed a weak smile and forced herself onto her feet.

'Well, I, uh, I got tortured a lot less severely than you.' Newton gave a small smile, trembling ever so slightly. 'Athena went through your mind and found out about my rebellious opinion.'

'I figured from the throbbing headache and jumbled memories…'

'Well that is-' whatever Newton was about to say was cut off by the door slamming open. Skye glared at them, her eyes mean and lifeless shark eyes.

'Newton, Toriel, King Papyrus expects to see you in the next five minutes, so you'd better start running.' Rita grinned.

'Oooooh, you two are in trouble!' Skye's harsh look turned to her slave.

'Rita, you are to come with me. We're going on a hunt for the exile in two minutes. So you had best sprint to the exit.' There was a poof and a microraptor glided away from the room, her four wings pounding rapidly as she flew at incredible speeds.

'Shit!' The mutt bolted after her master, tail between her legs.

'We'd best be going to see him now…' Newton growled, annoyance glinting in those pools of blue. His glasses had once again almost fallen down his snout. With a small huff he shoved them up again. 'We don't want him to be even more angry than he likely is if he's called us up. Come along, mademoiselle.' He took her paw and walked with her, taking his time.

'Should we not go faster?'

'We don't want to strain you, Toriel. Your injuries are severe. It's ridiculous that Papyrus is requesting you move at all. I know he thinks of us slaves as lower than his pets, as that stupid yi qui is valued higher than us. I understand that it is a unique specimen, but at the same time it is a non-sentient creature who cannot feel anything.'

'Well, I guess they do say pets are like their owners.' Toriel snickered. Newton smiled weakly.

'Heh… that's a good joke, Miss.' The two walked the rest of the distance in silence. When they arrived at the door, almost an hour later than they'd been told to arrive by, they could hear conversation in the throneroom.

'Master, the Exile is in the Slayer's home. They have him caged.'

'DO THEY SUSPECT YOU?'

'What do you mean?'

'DO THEY SUSPECT THAT YOU ARE A TRAITOR?'

'They do not, Master. Why do you ask this?'

'SANS IS LIKELY TO DIE TRAPPED WITHIN THE SLAYER'S HOLD. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO BE CAUGHT THERE TO DIE A TRAITOR'S DEATH WHEN YOU HAVE SERVED ME SO LOYALLY.'

'My loyalty is to you and you alone, Master.'

'THANK YOU, MY DEAR. I WILL TELL THE COUNCIL. PLEASE SEARCH FOR A SECRET ENTERANCE INTO THE LABORATORY SO WE CAN ATTACK. WE NEED THE HUMAN ALIVE, SO BE SURE TO RETRIEVE HER BEFORE WE CHARGE.'

'Of course. When will the attack take place?'

'AS SOON AS YOU BRING ME THAT HUMAN. I WILL DRAIN HER AND TAKE HER SOUL. AND THEN WE ATTACK AND WIPE OUT THE ONLY PUNY HOPE THAT THEY HAVE. WE KILL THE SLAYER, THE KING…'

'Yes, and then you will have control over the Underground!'

'AND I WILL NOT HAVE TO STARVE MY SUBJECTS. WE CAN FEAST WITHOUT FEAR AND THE WORLD SHALL TREMBLE WHEN THEY HEAR MY NAME! MY OBEDIENT SERVANT, THE UNDERGROUND WILL FEAR ME AND I WILL CONTROL IT, BUT SO CAN BE SAID ON THE ENTIRE WORLD! EVERYONE SHALL LIVE IN FEAR OF US, THE SHADOWS THAT HAUNT EVERY DARK CORNER AND RECESS OF THEIR MIND, THE ABOMINATIONS THAT CAUSE CHILDREN TO SHIVER AND PULL THEIR BLANKETS UP OVER THEIR HEADS. NO, MY DEAREST SUBJECT, WE WILL CONTROL EVERYWHERE.'

'Understood.'

'GOOD. NOW CONTINUE YOUR WORK. BUILD TRUST WITH THE HUMAN.' There was asound of fluttering wings and a faint sound that resembled a kettle's whistle. Then whoever had been talking to the king was gone. There was a small screech from the dinosaur he kept by his side. 'WHAT IS IT, QI? ARE YOU HUNGRY?'

Newton pushed the door with a small gulp as Papyrus pulled out a bloody, raw scrap of meat. He held it in his bare hands as he fed it to his beast. The crimson liquid dripped out of his hands like a tap that hadn't quite been properly turned off. The creature was a messy eater and scraps of red flesh splattered about it. Its teeth and snout shone through the dark, cold coat.

Its head jerked up as soon as it realised it was being watched, a beast unleashed from the deep fiery pits of hell. It roared, and despite its small size the roar was enough to shake the slaves to their bones and send their hearts racing. 'AH, HELLO MY SERVANTS.' The king's eyes gleamed with a cruel nature and a kind of humourlessness that was akin to the mysterious and cold smile of the sphinx. He stared Toriel in the eye until the goat queen's head was spinning. Papyrus smiled wickedly. 'I SEE YOU BOTH HAVE BEEN HEALED.'

'Indeed we have, your majesty.' Newton growled. His growl was a sound more akin to gurgling mouthwash or water, a splashy, bubbly noise rather than a defensive or aggressive one. 'What does it matter?'

The king snarled and his beast sprung onto his shoulder. Papyrus licked the Yi Qi's jaw, the thick stench of blood making him hungry. 'IT MATTERS NOTHING.' Newton flinched, expecting a smack. He then realised what the king said, and straightened himself out.

'Oh… so… why is it you wished to see us?'

'OH, NO REASON…' Papyrus got up from his throne, approaching the two. Toriel was lying on the floor, retching weakly while Newton trembled like a leaf. 'I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU UNDERSTOOD THAT YOU KNOW YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE EVER TRIED THAT.' His hand closed around Newton's throat and he lifted the creature. Newton rasped, struggling and thrashing. When the amphibian's struggles began to slow and stop, Papyrus dropped him. He growled. 'DO NOT EVER TRY TO PLAN A REBELION AGAIN. IF YOU EVER EVEN THINK OF DOING IT, I WILL SHRED YOU INTO RIBBONS. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?' Gasping, Newton nodded. 'GOOD. NOW LEAVE!' He threw them out, his magic catching their souls and holding them tight. They slammed into the floor. Papyrus slammed the door shut behind them.

His pet squawked and nuzzled him, looking for more meat. Papyrus ignored the creature and wandered to the chessboard in the corner of the room. Every piece was there, already set up in a game he had been playing with his brother. He lifted the white king, looking at it and thinking about his plans. He, like the white side of a chessboard, had to make the first move. He had to strike before the traitor blabbed about the location of the castle. His kind were, after all, selfish creatures. He sighed, put the king down and moved one of his knights. His idea would work. It had to. Like chess, the war with the slayer was a game of tactics.

'CHECKMATE.'