Welcome to the Underworld
{Log 1: The Ruins
Entry 8: Heartbreak}
Finale
A scream tore through her throat as she sat up. Her eyes immediately darted to where she had been carved down to the bone. There was no indication of such injury. She was back in the limbo she had been in before. Her jittering fingers went to her throat but as with the other wounds there was nothing there. She curled into herself and began to sob uncontrollably. She stayed there ignoring the prompt of screen to her right. Her entire body was sickly from her previous death. She could still hear the scraping of metal upon bone and the icy blade slicing through her pale skin like butter. She could smell the metallic scent that permeated the air as her blood dripped from sawed veins.
Her hand pressed into her chest still feeling the weight of not having a soul where it belonged. She had never known something to be so painful in her entire existence. The physical torment she was just put through sent her lungs starved from oxygen due to the blood curdling screams of agony. There was something far worse. The human soul was not just a theoretical construct to delineate moral teachings. No. It was much more valuable. It was a tangible object which was tied closely to the physical body. Humans thought that they were two separate entities but that could not be further from the reality. The soul was oneself and therefore any physical harm done to it would affect the body it was attached to. She remembered with a shudder the knife slick with her own blood cutting into the blue heart that Toriel had grasped within her claws.
Just like her it shook in fear as it was torn asunder, sliced, and diced. Each mark cutting deeper and deeper into her soul and skin. There were cuts that were on her cheeks and body that formed under that unbreakable connection. Flowey was right that she needed to be more careful. She would never let anyone take her soul again. If that were to come to pass she would suffer immense pain at the hand of offender. The physical action of being hacked did not hold a candle to her soul. She lifted her head to look up into the black abyss that she now considered limbo. This was were she would end up everytime she had died. Each time staring into the unforgiving nothingness all around her.
The warmth that she once had was beginning to fade as she stared down at her own still quaking hands. How could she return. How could she face another death like the one she had just been put through? The images still haunted her and pressed into her brain with relentless force. They were like demons clawing at the backsides of her eyes forcing her to see all the horror and blood spilled in that very moment. It was like a loop within her brain. One that she was unable to break as she relived the same thing again and again and again. It needed to end. She needed to pick herself back up and continue forward but fear kept her frozen in place.
There was no warmth here but the icy touch of a never ending cold that bit into her skin. All she could think of was the cold hand of death. How it had his grasp upon her and how everything felt so dull. The world that she had once seen so vivid with color and light was starting to lose its spark. The magic that it once held. The lifeless grey backdrop of life that ceaselessly continued to torment her.
*Get up
A voice echoed through the lifeless place settling upon her in a commanding tone. She shook her head and buried her sorrows back into her knees where her eyes had started to form tears. It was too much. She never wanted to go through that ever again. The voice pulled at her mind, her heart, her soul. It was relentless.
*I said get up Frisk you have to keep going. Weren't you the one who wanted to help them? Weren't you going to be their hope?
The voice in her head was attempting to talk some sense into her. She raised her head to barely see a figure within the distance. It was just like her dream before where the figure had saved her from burning alive. As soon as she tried to get a better look they vanished into thin air. Regardless of her aching body, it would appear that even pains persisted after death, she began to untangle herself from her stupor of sorrow. The tears that had been streaming from her eyes were wiped clean by a single solitary sweater clad arm. If she did not continue then Flowey would be lost forever. The image of her friend's severed head sent a shudder down her entire body. Her head turned in the direction of the two options floating just off to her right. Once again nothing had changed it was the exact same as before.
Her quaking legs finally managed to rise from their place on the ground and walk over to the panel. She could end this cycle just with one simple decision. The choice to continue or the choice to give up. Even back then she was never a quitter and did not find the idea very tasteful in the least. She muttered under her breath an affirmation of her newly founded DETERMINATION, "I can do this. No matter how many… no matter how many times it takes!" Her hand came down upon the panel that slowly began to fade. Instead of waiting this time she jumped into the light beginning to crack the limbo world apart. It was time to escape The Ruins.
Unlike before Frisk's eyes fluttered open to stare up at the ceiling. Her heart was beating at a steady rate and she felt no need to bolt upright like before. She did not need an explanation either. She knew what happened only this time she turned her head to see a very distraught Flowey. He had lost all his composure with tears streaming out of his eyes and his petals wilting in despair. She had almost forgotten that she was not the only one that remembered the past. He did as well only he had not watched the horrifying scene that had played out. He had died long before. She knew better than anyone what that would do to someone. She reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes, "Flowey come on don't cry. It's alright ok?" She pulled him against her and held him closely. They were both highly shaken after the prior events. She could still hear his sniffling as she pulled back to look at him "I'm sorry Flowey I thought maybe if I talked this time might be better." It was then that Frisk realized that this was not about the suffering she had endured but the collective suffering of the Underworld.
Flowey had to watch her die but he also died himself. It was more than just fear that had eaten away at the very fabric of her being. It was eating away at everyone. Toriel was afraid to be alone once more. She did not wish to be stuck within a prison of isolation with only books as her company. Flowey was afraid of her death but she would also wager he was afraid of his own even though he put up a strong front. Even she was afraid of the permanence of death. It appeared that she had escaped its grasp but for how long would she be able to dodge the reaper's blade? Flowey still had said nothing as he sniffled wiping his eyes with his leaf like hands. All she could do was give him a reassuring smile that everything was going to be alright.
This world had revolved around kill or be killed. How could you change such a law within the minds of those enamoured by it. The thoughts flowed to her until she finally came upon the one that would be the answer. She had to be different. The monsters would try to stop her and though Toriel's motives were for her own selfishness Frisk gambled that the others only wanted to leave. The second answer was that they would want to be the ones victorious at last. A kind of prideful capture, dead or alive. The thoughts scared her. How many times would she end up in that limbo before it would all come to a close? In order to continue forward she had to push those thoughts aside. Right now she had one goal and one goal only. She would escape The Ruins with Flowey by her side and she would do it without spilling so much as a drop of blood. She would show mercy to those that would intend her harm.
Her hand clenched into a fist as she picked up Flowey quickly and grabbed their companions hiding space once again. After outfitting the satchel with all the necessary ingredients for theoretical success she made her way to the door and flung it open. There was something within her that suddenly began to spread throughout her entire body. She had a mission and a purpose. This was going to be the last time that she would be carved on a table or burned alive by the flames of grief driven rage and madness. This was her moment. This was her time to escape.
As she headed down the hallway she began to search her mind for all the missteps that she had unfortunately come across the first time she attempted to leave. The first one was not being prepared with items that would aid in her survival. That was one checkmark off her list. She even included the odd spider webbed decorated donut that she had purchased before her entry into Toriel's home. Flowey was the next misstep. She had left him the first time because she had wanted to scope out a possible route of departure. She blinked for a moment and shook her head. No, that was not right Flowey was with her that time as well. Stars this was going to get confusing. The third and potentially fatal error from before was the creaky floorboard she had accidently stepped on as she made her way over to the staircase. If they had not alerted Toriel then perhaps they may have had a chance. As it stood there was a clear plan forming within her mind.
This was not going to be easy. Everything had to go perfectly in order for her and Flowey to make it through this. Step one, distraction. As Frisk whispered to Flowey about her plan as quietly as possible she had begun to make her way into the foyer. The golden flower gave a look of skepticism but shook his head as if to signify he would go along with it anyway. At this point what did they have to lose other than their seemingly infinite lives. The bookcase that she remembered earlier would be a seemingly advantageous area to place her satchel. She would have to be able to have it on hand at a moments notice so the closer to staircase the better. She could have kept it with her when she went to go talk with Toriel for a second time but the satchel had immediately triggered the thought of abandonment within the goat demon that lead to her demise the last two times. It was not a good idea to have such an item visible. Stashing the satchel was easy. She made sure that Flowey was safe and comfortable before proceeding into the living room. She thought her feet might betray her as images of Toriel's face spattered with her own life blood flashed before her.
Her palms had begun to sweat but she must persevere. She ripped the image from her mind and walked into the room with a smile on her face. As before Toriel sat with book in hand and her spectacles daintily perched on her nose. She made no move to get up either. It was almost like watching a movie or playing a game that you had seen a million times. The only difference was you were the anomaly. The one thing that could change the course of the story. The one person that could break the cycle. This time she decided not to sit as she set her plan in motion. Her look of distress was plastered on her face as her eyes darted in order to appear terrified. If this worked then step one would be a success, "M...mom… I….I saw something going down into the basement… it… it scared me." She hoped she was not being too much of a ham with her stuttering but true to form that is exactly what she did when she was afraid of something.
Toriel's expression changed from a warm one to a concerned one. A monster must have snuck in and tried to hurt her child. She was not going to let that happen again. She stood to her full height after setting her book and glasses down on the nearby dining table. Her voice was stern but also calm, "You stay here my child. I will make sure they don't hurt you." Frisk only nodded shakily adding some convulsing knees in the process. Toriel had taken the bait, "O...ok….m...mom…" Frisk noticed that every time she called the goat, mom, a light danced in her eyes. It made her so happy to hear such words. So far so good. Toriel left the room soon afterward which gave Frisk a small amount of time before she returned. There was a reason that she had explored the entirety of the house the first time. It was her way of making clever observations for puzzle solving later. In this case she distinctly remembered a somewhat worn frying pan that hung just in the kitchen. The kitchen...
The very area that her life had ended. Her legs carried her to the doorway only to have them freeze in place. Frisk internally swore. Her legs were frozen solid unable to be moved. The fear that she had experienced was keeping them glued in place. She did not want to go in there. Her heart was the only thing that she could hear. Her eyes screwed shut as her moist hands tried to unclench themselves. She had been carved up like some kind of animal in this place. She was returning to a butcher shop. Her abject horror was causing her body to not respond to simple commands. Walk. Move. Go. There was no clock in her immediate vicinity but she could hear the incessant ticking in her mind. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Over and over again. It was maddening. She was running out of time. She opened her eyes and broke free shattering the ice within her veins that had kept her in place. She only had a little time left as she ran into the kitchen. Her eyes darted and scanned for the object of interest only to see it dead center.
Her hands reached through the time bubble that she felt she was now surrounded by. As she grabbed hold of the frying pan the bubble burst. The flow of time began to move forward as she handled the cast iron that scrapped roughly against her fingers. Her grip on the handle tightened as she quickly made her way out of both rooms and directly into the foyer. It would seem that Toriel had yet to ascend the staircase but that would only last for a moment. She quickened her pace and unclipped the satchel only to stash the item inside making sure not to squish anything especially Flowey. He looked impressed for her courage before they heard someone beginning to climb the steps. She closed and stashed the bag hastily. She was already sprinting back into the living room by the time Toriel had made it up the second to last flight of stairs. She had done it. Step two was complete.
Her lungs burned for all but a moment as she sat down on one of the dining room chairs to catch her breath. Toriel's footsteps could be heard just outside the frame of the door as Frisk calmed her racing heart. If she was not able to pull it off then Toriel would begin to become suspicious and that would shatter her and her companions hopes for escape. Toriel's entrance into the living room set Frisk on edge as the goat placed a hand on her head. She remembered that hand. It was the same hand that had held her close before she felt the knife slick with her own blood slide against the soft skin of her throat. She had to repress the shudder that was trying to force its way out of her, "Oh dear. You seem so shaken. Not to worry I took care of the intruder. They will not be bothering us anymore."
Frisk only nodded. She was afraid that anything else she might say would come off as odd. There actually was an intruder? Oh she felt bad for the poor creature that Toriel had found in the wake of her and Flowey's plan of escape. Toriel meanwhile was looking the child over. She noticed that their cheeks were pink and their heart was fluttering. They must have been quite scared for their body to elicit such a reaction. How dare that intruder for scaring her precious child. All she could think to do was to run her fingers through their hair trying to calm them. The soothing presence of their mother was all that they needed, "Hush. Everything is alright."
Held within Toriel's arms Frisk almost felt like a doll. It was still a loving gesture that the goat mother was trying to do but it almost felt mechanical. It was almost as if she had done this so many times that warmth and tenderness that was usually associated with such a comforting action was lost. She was but an object. An object that Toriel never wanted to lose. She wondered in the back of her mind if the other children received the same treatment or if this was just the effect of so much heartbreak. One too many times and despair corrupted even that of a mother's love. How tragic. Frisk did not have time to ponder all the questions that she had swimming in the back of her skull. It was time for the next step.
Toriel had continued to rub Frisk's head humming softly as she did. Their heart rate seemed to quiet after some time but she was still worried that the human was shaken by the events that had just transpired. It would be best if she laid down to calm her nerves further, "My dear why don't you lay down until your fears subside? I am more than happy to make some milk and cookies for you as a sweet treat." No one could resist her butterscotch cookies. They were easy to make and all you really needed to make them special was a mother's love.
The idea of eating any baked goods sounded tempting though the offer might work in her favor if she played it right, "That sounds delicious mom I would love that." Frisk smiled gently when Toriel finally released her hold on her. Thank goodness because she was unable to hold back the hairs that were starting to stick up on the back of her neck. Every thought circled back to how motherly Toriel truly was and how psychotic she could become at the drop of a hat. It was a frightening but also confusing duality. As she watched Toriel head into the kitchen she slowly slid off the chair she had been sitting on attempting to be as quiet as a mouse as she creeped into the foyer.
The satchel that she had hidden away rustled pushing the leather flap up and off. A small flash of gold came to greet her. She was happy to see Flowey once again but this was no time for a long and heartfelt reunion, "She is making cookies I think that will keep her distracted for a little bit." It would take a long time for them to bake right? I mean you had to grab the ingredients, mix them together, and bake everything. That was not a few minutes worth of work. As she continued to think about the intricacies of time within baking Flowey patted her cheek frantically with one of his leaves. The look on his face was filled to the brim with utter anxiety. He looked like he might have a heart attack if he even could. His voice was nearly a whispering hiss in her ear, "Frisk she can use magic that cuts the time in a whole bunch of different ways." Frisk looked mildly dumbfounded... Oh.. right...
Well no time like the present. She scooped up her friend in a rush and headed for the staircase. This time she was not going to be tripped up by that squeaky floorboard. She glared at the offending wooden plank and quietly descended the staircase. The audible gulp that came involuntarily from her throat lightly resonated off the walls of the basement hallway. She had been here before. Another gulp. The torches flickered back and forth as if they were following her down the dark hallway. It felt as if she were back in the deepest parts of The Ruins. All the warmth of the home above descended into terrifying darkness. Her fingers wrapped around the leather strapping of her satchel indenting the material with an imprint of her fingers. She was gripping it tightly to her chest as she walked. There had to be an end to this place. There just had to be. Her eyes widened in horror. What if this was all a trap? What if there was something terrible lurking within the darkness to tear her to shreds. A creature that would sink its claws into her and collect her blood like a sauce for one of Toriel's sweets?! Her heart was starting to race now as dark thoughts began to form as they walked. She felt like a small scared little girl. The halls felt like monsters themselves, looking over her, their cracked mouth like walls laughing at the companions plight.
Her mouth was starting to feel dry. It was an unnatural dryness the kind that could not be quenched by drink. It was the kind of reaction when one loses all sense of logical compass. The kind of reaction that brings others to their knees in horror and trepidation. All she could hear was a soft dripping noise presumably coming from the upper floors. She closed her eyes as she continued walking trying desperately not to envision some sort of horrifying slaughterhouse hanging above her head with blood dripping from the ceiling and onto the ground below. Step by step she made her way deeper down the corridor when finally her eyes snapped open. There was light. There was light at the end. Her eyes nearly filled with tears as she began to pick up the pace. Freedom was just within her grasp as she burst from the dark corridor into the light.
It was a room like all the others she had seen along her journey through the ruins of the old monster metropolis but it would appear there was yet another corridor beyond. She was so close. She could feel it within her soul as she continued forward. Each step caused her heart to jump until.
"Dear… where are you going?"
Frisk felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her as she slowly turned on her heel to face Toriel. She stood within the shadows her amber eyes a flame as she had seen them before. Her tone was calm and collected but Frisk knew better. This was to be the third time that she had witnessed this side to Toriel. The side bereft of hope. The side swimming in a pit of despair only to be shattered beyond repair. She was unable to speak as she took a step backward. Toriel continued to envelop herself within the shadows before a blazing flame ignited within one of her hands. Frisk prepared for the impact that the fireball would be inevitably aiming for but it never came. Instead she heard a soft weeping sound. As she stepped into the light her fur was glistening with tears, "Why… why do you always leave. I just want to protect you."
Another choked sob rang through the in between, the space between freedom and captivity. Toriel's eyes were still visible for the time being that was a good sign. She could still try and speak with her as much as she could but she was also ready to defend herself. Flowey was hiding within her satchel as to not enrage Toriel further.
Another of her hands raised to ignite a smoldering magical wildfire within her opposing paw. There was no doubt in Frisk's mind that Toriel was going to try and put an end to her but she was not going down without defending herself. She pulled the beat up frying pan from her bag and held it in front of her. The old black cast iron reflected the flickering of flames that seemed to embody this mid way room. The handle felt cool against her clenched hands as she took steady breaths, "I need to go. I need to keep going."
Toriel shifted her stance to step a little bit closer only to see the human drawback. There was no fear in her blue eyes but a confidence and a DETERMINATION that she had only seen once before. Her eyes were not on fire but within her soul a flame was being fed. It had been nothing but a smolder but now it was being coaxed into a brilliant flame, "Every human that falls down here meets the same fate. Everyone of them die. I will not let them take you from me! NEVER AGAIN" Her teeth were now gritted as the tears continued to flow. Her heart could not take it. The child would die just as the rest of them had. That was a humans inevitable end in the Underworld.
The walls began to darken becoming pitch black. Everything around her seemed to begin to lose color. It was being drained leaving only a monochrome world. She had witnessed this before. Toriel was going to fight her. Her soul emerged from her chest as her grip on her newly acquired frying pan tightened even further. This was the only way that she was going to escape.
Toriel blocks the way
It was quick but Frisk was ready. She had no prior combat experience but her heightened senses would come in handy. The torches that lined the walls suddenly burst into columns of fire that twisted and rose to the top of the ceiling. As if in a square oven the flames began to fall leaving Frisk to skirt to the side to avoid some raining fireballs. The entire ceiling was ablaze with the white flames as fireballs continued to pummel her from above. In an effort to dodge yet another falling flame Frisk smashed the fire magic with her frying pan only to send it flying to the opposite side of the room and vanishing. She was starting to sweat as she dodged one after the other. It was like defending in an oven and the temperature only seemed to increase.
All I want is to protect you! You are too weak to go out there! They will kill you! Do you not understand!?"
Frisk was panting now with her energy waing. Then the onslaught of hellish rain suddenly stopped. This time the projectiles were by hand. The fires that crackled and burned within her paws flew toward her at an incredible speed. The first set she was able to dodge by tucking her head in and rolling once to stand on her feet once again. The second set was much more difficult. Toriel was throwing the magic projectiles in an unbridled rage complete with bone chilling tears of anguish. She jumped over one of the projectiles that were aimed at her legs only to have one catch her shoulder. The flame lingered for a moment before dissipating but the skin burned. A blistering heat that radiated outward with just one measly hit. The soul in front of her shook as if responding to the damage. The wound was far from being painless as the newly exposed flesh began to bleed. The blood made a morbid line down her shoulder and arm all the way to the fingertips causing it to drip onto the floor below. All she could do was hold the hurting appendage as best as she could. Her teeth were gritted together as if to nullify a pain that she unfortunately was beginning to become familiar with.
Toriel ceased her attacks for the time being as she lowered her head in anguish. She was still crying staining the white fur of her cheeks a light crimson. Her child was much stronger than she thought but it was not enough. She was not going to be a pathetic failure. She was not going to be known as the mother that could not save a single child. She had lowered his hands to her sides as her claws dug into the pads of her paws. Her head was lowered in shame as she lifted them once again. Her clenched fist opened to summon another flame. Her head rose to look at Frisk. The pain was much too great.
Don't you see lost one? They…. ASGORE will kill you… All I want…. Is to give you a painless END...
All Frisk could do to respond against the dryness in her throat was take a deep breath. The pain had started to subside as Toriel spoke.
Then you will perish like the rest. Stand up to me and fight if you truly wish to leave!
That was something that Frisk would not do, "I will not give up and I won't hurt anyone either!" She would spare each and every one of them. No matter what they did to her. No matter how many times she begged for it all to end. She would not fall into this world of kill or be killed. She was going to show mercy. These ideas began to fill her soul causing it to glow an even more brilliant blue. Flowey could not take it anymore. Frisk was fighting all by herself as he hid like a coward within the confines of her bag. No more. Toriel was already furious and he needed to support his human companion. He popped his golden head out of the bag on Frisk's side and gasped at the damage that Toriel had inflicted on her. To Frisk, after everything, it was just a scratch.
Frisk had barely felt Flowey rustle around in her pack when he made his appearance. She had been so focused on Toriel that she had nearly forgotten about him hiding away. She barely was able to utter one syllable before she heard a shriek that would make even a banshee scream. Toriel had lost it. Why did she loathe Flowey so much she did not understand but she was not going to pause and ask either. The entire room began to swirl with fire. The ceilings and walls were crawling with menacing flames. Their fiery tendrils quickly making their way toward her. She was able to maneuver out of the way when the vertical fiery columns of death shot into the walls beside her. Another wailing scream could be heard through the flames. All Frisk could see of Toriel now were those black soulless eyes that glowed bright yellow in their middle. She did not even seem to have a shape now. All there was to see was fire. It was as if she was in the very pit of hell. There were not many more places now that she could dodge and she was slowly being cornered into the opposing corridor. The only things that were in the room were the white doric columns that stood as supports for the basement. At least that is what she had observed. They could have been decorativ-
Her train of thought was cut short as Flowey screamed at the top of his lungs. Coming at them at breakneck speed was a wall of fire projectiles. There was only seconds to react. If she went to the left she would be hit. If she jumped as she did before she would be hit. What was she going to do. She used the last ounce of strength that she could muster to leap herself to the side of the room. The projectile hit one of the columns with a force that caused the entire support to explode and rain shrapnel down upon their heads. The other projectiles just grazed her right leg just after jumping as she collapsed to the ground falling upon her injured arm. The force of the impact with the ground caused a choked scream to rip from her voice. She lay there quaking and shuddering, burn marks branding her body.
The entire ground began to rumble and shake. A splitting sound echoed around them as she lifted her head. Her eyes were filled with tears of agony but the quaking increased. Her eyes met with a surprise attack from dust as the ceiling began to split and crack. It was like being within an earthquake. Her heart was pounding but steadily. The adrenaline of her last ditch effort to survive had given her a new found energy but it's time limit was short. She raised to her feet only to stumble into the side of wall as the ceiling above began to cave in. All she heard was Flowey's screams of, "RUN! FRISK RUN!" The entire corridor that they were in was collapsing due to Torials uncontrollable destructive anger. Another crack as debris began to rain down. She mustered up all the limited adrenaline rush she had and snatched Flowey sprinting down the corridor. A massive section of the corridor caved in just behind her sending the two flying forward in a cloud of dust and debris. Frisk hit the ground hard once more, this time on her stomach. Her injuries were not horrible but they were not good either. She had lacerations and scrapes everywhere specifically all her more exposed extremities. Her face was down upon the ground as she used her elbows to move to an upright position. The entire area was thick with dust as she choked only to cough the offending particles from her lungs.
The sound of gravel and rocks reached hear ears as she attempted to move her non injured leg to look behind her. The hallway which she had sprinted from was completely blocked by rocks and other building materials. There was no way that Toriel could reach her now. There was no going back. Her eyes screwed shut as she raised to a sitting position. She could hear Flowey coughing as she did so biting back the pain her body had sustained. She could feel the grime on her face as she took her sleeve and slowly wiped the clumps of dust off her face. When she opened her eyes her heart had begun to slow in pace.
They were in another room. This one was reminiscent of the one that she had begun her journey. There were no switches or levers only a giant arching purple door. It's size was uncomparable by human standards. Frisk looked down at her body only to realize that once again her vision was back to normal and her soul was where it belonged. They had done it. They were alive and they had escaped. She wanted to raise her arms in victory but the thought was too much. She slid over to Flowey to check the status of his own body. He looked fine except a scratch here and there. Her voice was small and breathless but at least she could speak, "W...we did it Flowey. We… are free."
Like Frisk Flowey had his fair share of scrapes and scratches to his fragile plant like body but at least he was not as worse for wear like his human friend. He looked up at her smiling face. How could she continue to smile after all the pain that she had been subjected to? All he could do was give a small sad smile of his own, "Yeah. I guess we did huh? You know… you're pretty tough kid."
Finally the pair were out of the frying pan. Flowey protested when Frisk rose to stand. She was severely injured. Eventually he was able to force her to eat a quarter of the strange spider themed donut she had purchased before. It immediately healed her wounds giving him a sense of reassurance. She may have looked fragile but that clearly was not true. She had demonstrated that she could hold her own even in the hottest of situations. He found himself once again by her side using her bag as a kind of hammock. They both turned their attention upon the door. The door to their freedom. The door that would lead the pair deeper into the Underworld.
Frisk stood in front of the massive purple double doors and looked upward. This was the moment they had both been striving for. Her hand pressed against the metal rune that served as a decoration upon the door. It was near identical to the one before. Quickly she pulled her hand back at the freezing cold that attacked her already healing hands. Why was it so cold? Instead she decided to place her hand on the wood as not be attacked by the icy touch of metal once again. Her hand was shaking but why. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began to push on the door which groaned in protest. The metal hinges started to wail as she braced her body against it. It was more difficult to open then she had thought.
She leaned against it for a moment before attempting again only this time she rammed her shoulder with as much force as she could and pushed as hard as possible. Again the door squealed its protests but she was not going to give up, not now and not after everything. Her heels dug into the earth as she pushed harder with more force. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she continued to create tracks of unearthed rock at her feet. The door finally gave way sending the two careening forward through the archway only to catch themselves mid fall. What she was met with with a bone chilling ice cold wind that hit her face. She stood in the wake of the door to The Ruins only to hear it slam behind her. She had made it out of the fire, Toriel, and the horrifying atrocities she was subjected to. This was her goal. She needed to escape and be on the other side. The other side of the door…
Careful what you wish for
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End of LOG...