Meating Monsters: Chapter 10
The boat had melted. It hadn't been a surprising development. The river was considerably warmer in Waterfall, after all. The revelation did nothing to quell Sans's anger, however.
He ended up covered in mud, head to toe, having to push past fetid water.
The armor was covered in mud and he trudged forward like a sludge monster.
Navigating Waterfall was considerably harder than Snowdin. Not only did he never live in Waterfall, the place was an almost endless series of caverns and tunnels—all patterned about with the chaotic-nonsense of nature.
Sans grumbled as he spotted his reflection. Boy, did his looks not improve.
His entire face had some shade of a bruise—ranging from a soft grey to a blotchy indigo.
He chuckled and his eye turned inward—right, he had a passenger. Flower wasn't a looker himself and was currently passed out.
Sans was glad Flower wasn't up for a conversation—patience was very thin at the moment.
Sans continued to venture in and out of tunnels—each time ducking into a cavern with a vein of optimism only to retract it when he found a dead-end.
It was frustrating, and it was a few good hours before Sans admitted to himself that he was lost.
He examined the area, finding that bioluminescent fungus still thrived. He smiled as he combed the cave walls for samples, eating the kind he was familiar with.
Still, it wasn't enough and his hunger grew worse. He took out his bag, bloody with wolf meat. He frowned—Waterfall was about the worse place someone could keep a fire, every surface was wet…so he wouldn't.
Sans sighed, he couldn't eat the meat without cooking it.
Instead, he settled for more fungus and collected a bunch for later—it made for some great cooking.
Sans come across a tiny mushroom. It was unfamiliar and didn't glow, which is likely why he hadn't come across it before. He eyed it with suspicion, though with a shrug, decided to try eating it.
As a skeleton monster, it was harder—maybe impossible to be poisoned but Sans wasn't about to die from something so silly.
A claw sliced off a tiny piece of the cap and popped it in. Hrm, it tasted disgusting—he wasn't surprised.
Most fungus tasted gross—it was a desperately acquired taste. Still, cooking should solve the issue. Sans grumbled, hunger demanding more. He ate more of the tiny mushrooms, less afraid. Some of the tiny mushrooms were gathered for later; he felt a little confident they would be good.
He was careful not to over harvest any of the fungus however and he reluctantly stumbled away. Sans committed the place to memory.
Waterfall was a bit boring, save for all the water and fungus. Unlike Snowdin, there weren't any large residential neighborhoods he could investigate.
A piece of trash floated along a weak current, catching his attention. Sans chirped, a little excited. It was fished out, only to be immediately thrown away—a milk carton—useless! Finding empty food packaging tended to make Sans irrationally angry. Though the trash had been a useful reminder—right, the dump!
It was no doubt the most exciting place in Waterfall, so he was obligated to visit.
Following the route to the Dump was easy once he decided on going there.
A vast sea of garbage greeted him. Piles and piles of trash created mountains to explore.
Yet Sans sighed, foraging for garbage had lost its appeal years ago. What was special about the Dump is that one could find all sorts of knick-knacks from the surface, and before he would make all sorts of projects. Sans grumbled, those days of tinkering were gone now. The only thing remaining on his mind tended to be food related. Roaches thrived among the trash and Sans salivated at the idea of a handful—though catching took some energy—energy he no longer had.
Sans laughed when he remembered seeing monsters eat garbage when magic was readily available…or at least selling it as food—he didn't know if anyone actually did eat it Though, Sans had eaten worse things…and anyone that was left sure did too.
Humming, he dug a gauntlet into the trash randomly—pulling forth…well nothing.
Unidentifiable sludge came back and suddenly Sans wasn't hungry. He cleaned the gauntlet in the water, but any building enthusiasm for the Dump literally washed away. Garbage wasn't on the menu that day.
Sans leaned against a pile, considering taking a nap. He tipped his skull back, briefly enjoying the ambience of Waterfall. True to its namesake, waterfalls littered the place, which were the only things keeping the place relatively clean from the vast amount of garbage—or so, Sans liked to think.
It was safe to say that Sans appreciated them. He listened to the echoing roars, letting the old friend of relaxation take over him.
Abruptly, Sans stumbled away from the pile of trash. His senses were thrown into overdrive as strange echoes began to fill the place. Sans felt his mind pull away, his body feeling foreign and unmanageable. The echoes had grown into a mess of sound.
A swirl of color began to flicker at the corner of his vision.
At first, Sans thought it was a dream, as he couldn't will himself to do much. He felt attached to the trash he had been leaning on.
He hissed and clutched his skull—something was wrong!
Black drool dribbled down his teeth as he found it harder to move. His bones rattled and his vision scrambled.
Oh, everything was beautiful!
He knew he was staring at garbage, piles and piles of it, but things had been twisted into an array of colors.
A cardboard box looked to be patched up with bright stickers. A broken table now had a fresh coat of paint. The sludge-covered trash he'd considered eating before looked rather appealing, colored a healthy beige with rainbow chunks—like dinosaur oatmeal.
The water was flowing a welcoming pink and swirls of color popped up the longer he looked at the current.
Sans reasoned, he must have teleported to a paradise. Stranger things had happened to him.
He followed the pink river, which was slowly twisting into a rainbow.
Rainbows…folks found treasure at the end of those, right?
Sans followed the rainbow, finding no reason not to.
He walked around, perhaps in circles as he spied the same cardboard box and table several times over.
Going in circles, he really didn't mind though. The colors were so calming, so fun.
He was afraid the colors would go away.
And suddenly the colors did.
Colors died one by one, the pink river being the only remaining one.
Sans grew desperate to get the colors back so he ran, following the lingering stretches of pink.
He almost made it, almost saved it—he thought, as an armored boot splashed into a puddle of water.
The last particles of pink died when he saw his reflection.
"NO!"
A skull dripping black stared back. Sans couldn't look away. Even when he turned and his hands covered his vision, the image didn't leave him.
It was himself, Sans had enough sense to know that.
A hand pulled away, slick with black drool.
Sans was losing his magic. He heaved up his meal, adding to the puddle.
He stumbled away from the mess as quickly as he could. The armored boots did poorly on the slippery terrain of the Dump and Sans had to claw at the piles of trash to stay upright.
Now that the colors were gone, along with his meal, Sans could sort out his senses.
He'd gotten sick!
The taste of the new mushrooms was very potent and his teeth needed a cleaning.
Sans lumbered forward, still groggy from the colors. Flickers of patterns were seen in the corner of his sight, but he paid it little mind.
He was wholly focused on getting the terrible taste out of his mouth.
A grave desperation filled him as he stared at the dirty waters of the Dump.
Sure, skeleton monsters rarely got sick, but he wasn't about to rinse his mouth with garbage water.
He had standards!
Or so he thought…
The pink water returned and Sans wasn't letting it get away again. He cupped his hands, growling when the water seeped immediately through his carpals.
Of course, how stupid!
He dunked his head underwater, instead.
"Aughauack!"
Recoiling in shock he fell backwards. Dirty water dripped from his teeth and Sans froze in agony over the horrible taste.
What had he been thinking?
Though dirty, heck—putrid, absolutely rancid—the water returned to a savory pink. Sans remained drawn to it, despite the disgusting flavor. It was pretty and the red-tinted reflection of his skull swirled into a delightful mess…
Mess…oh boy…Sans was messed up—had messed up!
He should have never wanted the colors! The pink was becoming too intense!
The water burned into a red and a twinge of fear manifested.
Sans sought to understand the colors; though, he didn't want to.
The colors showed him the way to go, the pink water thinned in places were the correct places to go.
Sans pushed forward, past the Dump and into a deeper, more cavernous region of Waterfall.
He found a path, devoid of the pink.
Was it safe?
The path was a stretch of land, having water on both sides. The entire area was pitch black. Only illumination offered by his eye and previous knowledge of the path layout allowed him to navigate.
The water looked cleaner than at the Dump, but Sans didn't entertain the idea of drinking it.
The path put him on edge. Sans had no means to escape. Water surrounded both sides, so he was limited to up and down movements.
Plus, his armor would no doubt drown him if he tried swimming.
Sans moved as fast as he could.
He was right to do so.
A loud splash sounded and something large slithered onto the path.
Gravel was racked into the water as it approached.
It was huge!
Sans jumped.
A large silhouette slammed into the ground he'd been standing a breath ago.
It was long and girthy—a terrifying combination.
He barely stuck a landing as the armor worked against him.
The silhouette swung back behind.
Bash.
Sans fell forward as he was hit. His armor smoked at the contact.
Sizzzzz.
He sniffed the air, finding a distinctly fishy smell—a water monster then.
The armor was hit again at the front and Sans felt a burst of steam hit his face.
Sizzzzz.
Teeth cracked under pressure as rage awoke inside him.
Sizzzzz. Clack.
Another hit was to his side. A large splash flooded over him.
He could see now in the faint light that there was more than one attacker. The light from his eye increased as much as he could spare. Only the ground could be seen as the silhouettes circles him.
Sans barely felt the flickers of his magic, so summoning an attack would be akin to suicide. His bones would disconnect if he didn't have enough!
"Yah'hear?" A voice whispered.
The attack paused just enough for Sans to ready the ax taken from Ice Wolf.
He'd almost forgotten about it.
Sans clutched it awkwardly, not used to the weight distribution as he held it aloft.
He swung it confidently however.
Sleash!
A silhouette was hit.
"Sauaraugh!" The voice screamed, the tone pathetically high pitched.
It had been a good hit then.
Sans smiled cruelly. He'd make these attackers suffer!
Sleash!
All at once everything came down upon Sans. He had no time to scream himself at the rising steam blinded what little vision he had.
The colors returned however. A flicker of pink rose from the steam, helping him remember who he was.
Sans swung the ax with everything he had, slicing in an ace. He wouldn't cut anything cleanly, but each attacker would feel a sting—a preview of what was to come.
He pushed forward onto the path, paying careful attention to the ground. The axe slung blindly, but together with the armor, the combination was enough to make progress.
However, with each step the path eroded down further into the water.
Sans hadn't realized until a boot sunk deep into mud.
It was a trap!
"No!"
He didn't have the strength to break free! The armor pulled him down faster and faster.
The attackers returned, a pack that barreled down on him.
The touch of the armor worked to push them back, but it only gave a few seconds at best.
Slap!
The ax had slipped away.
Sans's hand was missing too.
The attack was too much and he fell into the water. He saw that the droplets were pink just as he was pulled underneath.