Summary: Frisk and Flowey have finally escaped the hellfire of The Ruins. What lay beyond the door that they had so desperately attempted to push open. Were Toriel's warnings just those of an overprotective nature or an undeniable and horrifying truth? {DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains graphic imagery and strong dark themes such as death, maiming, gore, sexual advances, and murder. It's really not that bad comparatively but I like to be thorough. Let me know what you think in the comments below as you all keep this stories lifeblood pumping! Also, check out .com for concept work and everything WTU.}
Welcome to the Underworld
{Log 2: Snowdin
Entry 1: Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Freezer}
There is a moment in every life where one bursts through adversity to grab hold of a light that shines in their path. They run with all their might to reach that light, grasp it, and never let it go. A promise of a better present and a better future. This is what one might expect as Frisk and her golden companion pried the doors open to stand on the opposite side of the door. It had been the final goal. The precipice on which she could take a step back. She was promised that something better lay behind that door. Another world. A world far away from that which she had been raised or rather kept captive. This door was a symbol to her. A symbol of new beginnings. A symbol of hope. The world beyond was a mystery to her and even perhaps to her flower friend that she had bonded with. They were inseparable. A team. What were her expectations as her boots took the first step into this unknown world? A world entirely filled with… monsters.
All she could do was stand still in time as if frozen by the very cold that enveloped her body. Her sweater gave her enough upper body protection but the frozen wind of their new environment was sinking their icy fangs deep into her exposed legs. Their chilling venom began to travel upward causing her entire slender frame to quiver and shudder. She had not been prepared for such a drastic change in location. Her cheeks were already chilled with flush and her breath swirled around her with every shuddering breath. She had to move otherwise she would die once again but this time instead of the pits of hell she would freeze in the depths of Niflheim. She had gone from the frying pan and into the freezer. Her eyes scanned the area only coming to the conclusion that they were within a snowy forest. She hoped that Flowey was safe in her satchel as he had before. It was leather after all and from what she had read about survival animal hides were a good natural insulator from the cold, "F…..F….Flowey we….we did it we are here!"
The cold should have affected the flower monster more than what it currently was. His eyes looked up worriedly at a stuttering Frisk. She was shuddering and her entire body was shaking to the point that her teeth had begun to chatter. He paid the cold no mind it would seem, "Yeah, Frisk we did, but it's all thanks to you. You stubborn idiot. We should find you somewhere to bundle up. You look like you're going to shatter into a million little pieces. We can't have that right?" Flowey would not mention that he was happy with the fact that they were no longer within the reach of Toriel's killer paws but another threat loomed. If he was honest with himself. This was just the beginning.
Frisk was ecstatic to see that her friend was alright. She half expected to find him half frozen within her pack but that was not the case. He was perfectly fine in her eyes, not a single scratch. It was time to examine her surroundings as she had done before. Her powers of observation seemed to come in handy in the past. She turned on her heel making a small divot in the snow at her feet. The exit to The Ruins was but a simple archway framed in columns of the Doric style and topped with a monolith. To her, it resembled that of a cloud. A kind of cloud that one of a young age would draw in representation. It had two small arcs flanking a larger center arc in the middle. There were strange symbols and writing along its cracked face that, once again, she was unable to decipher. The rune stood out almost as if it stared her down. The same rune that had appeared in countless imagery within the once great monster capital. Now, as the name suggested, it stood in only ruins only acting as a gateway to the world beyond. The symbol seemed to mock her as it loomed overhead just out of her reach. Just nestled beneath it was the portico of their escape. The same deep purple door that had bared their freedom. Her hand came to rest on its surface only to try with all her might to open it once again. It was of no use. The path of the past was locked. It was not as if she wished to return to the place but something possessed her to attempt the action.
Another turn of her heel and she spotted a series of bushes. Their green leaves shone dully under their imprisonment of snow and suffocated under the weight. It must snow in this place frequently as there were no tracks or pathways. It was a blanket of white as far as one could see and what lay next to it on either side was a forest. It was a green forest with the scent of pine wafting through their frost dusted tops. The kind where nothing appeared out of place it was however bleak, desolate, and morose in places. It looked like parts of it had been chopped or torn down. The only thing that she could piece together was that it must have been used for building materials. The dead branches made eerie scraping, cracking, and creaking noises as the wind blew through their mangled branches. This place was quiet too quiet for Frisk's liking. At once it felt as though the commotion would never cease but now they were in a place that embraced the stillness. The stagnation of sight, of sound, of feeling, was prevalent in this place. She decided that over analyzing the situation would only bring forth more doubt. That was a feeling she could not afford.
Frisk's feet took her slowly through the forest only to stare up at the sky? She was underground there was no logical explanation that would justify that the thing she was looking up at was the sky. In reality, it was but the inside of the mountain. A rather dull substitute but at least she did not feel as trapped as she once had. Her effort of looking up at the seemingly infinite treetops that encompassed her every tread began to give her a feeling of vertigo. The circle of trees had begun to spin causing her to close her eyes tightly and try to will the feeling to cease. It was like she was looking at a pinwheel that just continued to spin lazily in a circle of infinite loops. Her hand came to rest upon a nearby tree. The bark was cold against her already numbing hands but she needed it for support. Her freezing body pressed against the side of the trunk as she steadied herself. The cold was starting to eat away at her lungs causing a cool burn. She would have to become accustomed to this cold if she desired to stay alive. They had both been through so much. She was not going to let all that sacrifice be in vain.
The polar venom was starting to break down her blood. It had begun to coagulate and freeze over into ice. The more she stayed in one place the colder she would become. Her freezing body had to pry itself from the tree in which she had taken a short repose. She was unsure how much further her legs would be able to carry her in this condition until she came upon a light. A brilliant glow that warmed the outcropping of trees surrounding her. Where its light touched seemed to thaw the harsh bleak wintry landscape of this place. She knew what was before her. It was the star. The very same star that had saved her from repeating from the very beginning. She coveted its magical warmth more than anything. It would flow through her and give her the ability necessary to continue forward. She just knew it. The freezing venom within her body was making it closer to her heart with every beat. It would not be long now before it reached her very soul, freezing her solid and causing her a slow, painful, and bone-chilling end.
Her steps were heavy as she reached for the blaze of magic before her, step after, step by step. Each one gave way to more weight upon her already exhausted and numb limbs. It happened all at once. Just as she reached for the magnificent glow she found herself collapsing into the snow. Her body had given up on her but she was not going to let that control her. She hoisted herself shakily to her elbows. Her face was contorted in pain and resolve. Her hand stretched forward as darkness began to cloud her peripherals. That was the sign of her death. The dark void that she had come to know every time her heart stopped. Frisk's fingertips quivered as they stretched outward one last time before her vision went out. All was lost. She had failed.
She could see nothing and yet she still heard the creaking of branches and blow of the wind. She had not died yet. Her fingertips began to warm only to begin to spread down her hand. She was once again able to move her fingers if only just a minimal amount. The warmth began to spread further replacing the once frosty venom of cold with a blazing heat. It reached her heart only to shoot through her veins causing her body to react in kind. She was no longer freezing cold but fully restored as the black curtain that once obstructed her view of the world faded. She had made it. Just by the touch of one small finger, she had reached the star. She was sure that death had been upon her. Its glacial hand had hovered over her just in those last minutes of life.
** {SAVE}**
Now revitalized she stood to her feet without fail. A warmth inside of her was keeping her from feeling the freezing effects from before. Her attention returned to the clearing that she was in. She was unsure how far she had traveled through the forest in order to end up in such a place but her footprints from before had not yet begun to fade. It was wise to return to the exit of The Ruins. There must have been a path somewhere if not clearly marked then by some visual observation she would be able to determine the correct course. Flowey was still silent in her satchel unlike her who received a supernatural magical protection he was left to his own devices. He was not frozen, however, his chattering could be heard from the open flap. In her best judgment, she decided to close it to insulate the bag enough for him to be able to warm himself.
All she heard were her crunching boots in the surrounding snow as she walked. It was such a contrast from the hellfire that she had been subjected to just beyond the exit to The Ruins. After a while, the landscape appeared to morph leading her to the door that she had entered from. She could still hear the feral unholy screams of Toriel ringing in her thawing subconscious. The very thought shook her small frame with an uncontrollable shudder of dread. A gust of wind blew her hair into her face causing her to stop and fix the loose strands to clear her vision. That's when the snap of a twig alerted her only to have her spin around abruptly. There was nothing there. The cold that she had been protected from beforehand seemed to slowly begin to affect her again as she took a step back. It must have just been the wind. She scanned the area one final time before continuing back to her starting position. She could not help the feeling that eyes were on her as she leaned against the mauve door of her escape. There was no going back. She either would starve and freeze in this very spot or she would muster up the courage to continue her journey. Toriel had been concerned that the monsters on the other side would harm her… no… obliterate her. In her eyes, she never saw a soul only the trees that lined every inch of this gloomy snowy forest.
Her observations eventually bore fruit unlike the time prior. She had been so preoccupied with nearly freezing to death that she had not noticed the discrepancies within her direct line of sight. There appeared to not be a definitive pathway leading away from The Ruins. At least what one would consider a pathway. It was not paved as one might expect but rather marked in a more natural way. There were trees on either side of her new foothold indicating that there used to be a clear path just below her feet as such detective Frisk was on the case. She used her boot as a tool to clear some of the snow in front of her only to see a blue-grey path leading onwards. Eureka! Her eyes flicked to the right for a moment thinking that she saw something move but as usual there was nothing to give her that visual. Did the monsters also have wildlife here? If so that might have been the noise that she had heard earlier. Her feet took her along the snowy pathway for a while. It could have just been her imagination but she swore this path was taking too long to end. She attributed it to the infinite trees that flanked either side of her as she continued her trek.
Flowey, meanwhile, had himself curled inside of a nice warm leather satchel. His monster advantages protected him from the harsh winter that lay just outside. He, however, had been distracted by his own thoughts to realize what had transpired outside. He finally decided to show himself as he pushed the flap away with leafy hands. The closure gave way only for him to be blasted by a gust of icy wind. Frisk seemed to be doing just fine from where he was standing. She had that determined look on her youthful face though he knew better. They were outside of The Ruins and though that should have been a victory he feared it would not last. Toriel had been right about one thing. The monsters that inhabited the Underworld were brutal and sometimes even sadistically so. He noticed the light flush on her cheeks as she trudged forward. The forest around them seemed never-ending. He decided that it would be best if he stayed silent in order not to break her concentration.
Frisk's eyes were pointed directly ahead. She wanted to get to somewhere warm as fears of freezing to death swam through her mind. Her pace had been spritely up until she saw a strange piece of architecture barring the rest of the path from view. A feeling overcame her. One that she had felt back by the exit. The feeling of eyes on her. The feeling that someone or something was watching her intently but refused to show itself. Her once brisk pace began to slow as the feeling only increased. Her eyes flicked from right to left feeling more and more like she was being stalked with each passing minute. Each step caused her mind to wander into some unknown and terrifying territory.
Frisk's footsteps ceased but from behind her, she heard the distinct and familiar crunch of snow. After a few moments of her pause, the sound also stopped. Her throat was now starting to feel as though she was having difficulty breathing. If she spun around what would she see? Her eyes darted to her peripheral vision trying to figure out if such a thing was just her imagination or an actual threat. She took a step forward and continued to walk. Her breath danced around her like smoke as she breathed clutching the satchel strap to her chest. The warm leather had begun to conform to the shape of her fingers from so much nervous energy. She was glad that Flowey, who had yet to show himself again, had stayed within the bag. There was no telling what the following events would bring.
After some time walking along she had finally made it to the strange structure she had seen from quite a distance before. Just above a perilous snowy pit stood a wooden gate. It stood high above her blocking her only path. It was carved out of wood and had pylons on each side made of a dark wood. It was most likely made of the same wood that surrounded her currently. There was no end to the supply of building materials that it could be repurposed in such a way. The gate was a set of consecutive wooden beams each one with approximately two to three inches in between them from where she stood there was no logical way to get past the obstacle. They spanned the chasm only adding to their unwelcoming design. Her hand came to rest on one of the beams only for it to wiggle a small amount. If she could wiggle it just enough she might be able to slip through. She was just about to add some more force before a familiar bone-chilling sound came from behind her.
Her heart was pumping nearly drowning out the noise. She stayed still not moving a single muscle as the sound only grew louder. Every part of her being was screaming at her to run but with this strange gate like trap in her way, there was nowhere to run. Her shift in weight caused the bridge underneath her feet to let out a creaking noise. There was no telling what was going to unfold in these seconds. All she knew is that she was quite literally frozen with fear. Her lungs had begun to burn and she could have sworn that she could smell the faint hint of smoke and something else she could not place. Her once firm hand on the wooden pylon began to shake as she removed it slowly. It was clear that the one following her was just behind her as the footsteps came to a stop.
The monster halted his steps toward the unsuspecting human every time that they stopped. It might have been that they were not as unsuspecting as he initially was lead to believe. They did after all make it out of The Ruins in one piece. He stood just behind her with his mouth pulled into a grin. What was going to be their reaction he wondered, "Don't ya know it's rude to not greet a new pal... human? Turn around and shake my hand." His voice was lower than usual only adding to the deep baritone of his normal voice and the hint of a growl that accompanied it. As usual, it was dashed with a hint of amusement.
Flowey heard the voice from within the comfort of the leather satchel he was currently taking residence in though he could not view the speaker the voice was enough for him to be worried. This would be Frisk's first encounter with a monster other than Toriel. The froggit did not count since it barely would have put up any kind of defense anyway. That's how the majority of the monsters within The Ruins were. They had been shoved out for fear of death if they stepped foot beyond those double doors. The majority of them would be dusted immediately for some menial LV gain. In concern, Flowey pushed his golden head up a small amount in order to get a look at who Frisk had encountered. He only prayed it wasn't-
Frisk's eyes were wide as she heard the voice that was right behind her. It sounded none too friendly in any sense of the word. It was gruff, deep, and most of all feral. A flash of Toriel burst behind her now closed eyelids but she was not dead yet. Her feet reluctantly shifted so that she was able to turn. Every possible horrifying thought flew through her mind before he eyes landed on her assumed to be stalker. Her eyes were wide at what they had landed upon. What stood before was the very embodiment of death itself, a skeleton. Not just a human looking skeleton either. Its face was pulled up in a sharky amused grin. A gold tooth glinted in what little light the dismal forest provided. He was a little taller than her by approximately a few inches and though his stature did not intimidate her his eyes did. What looked upon her were dots of lights that were housed within the deepest recesses of his onyx eye sockets, eye lights if you will.
The harsh weather of the area could only be combated with warm and thick clothing. He wore a black leather jacket very similar to a bomber jacket. A large fluffy cream colored hood encompassed his face and shoulders and golden zipper teeth that lined either side shone through the black with a sinister metallic shine. His collar was intricate with a giant lapel that sat just over the fur trim with two buckles on either side. On the ends of the tips of the lapel were golden spike rivets one for each side. His collar from what she could tell was also divided into two separate colors the top was a deep grey while the bottom was black. The skeleton had around his neck an auburn collar with the same golden spike treatment that she had seen before. Instead of a tag, there was a golden chain link that swayed back and forth. Well one of them did the last one was incomplete and broken on the bottom. It was scorched as if it had been burned and the golden gave way to soot-stained deteriorated metal. She had to question why anyone in their right mind would wear a collar around their neck. It was an unnerving accessory choice.
On the skeleton's left arm was an intricately embroidered patch but she was unable to determine what it was. It looked as if it was some kind of skull in crossbones but it was unlike any skull that she had ever seen before. The golden and red decoration wrapped around the entire forearm of his sleeve. The simple motion of moving his arm showed off the red knit that lined the underpart of his jacket sleeves. The stitching along the upper part of his sleeves was gold in which she noticed that he had a dark grey elbow patch on either side of each sleeve. Even his pockets, though a contrasting dark grey had golden rivets. He sure seemed to like gold, didn't he? There were two pull strings hanging haphazardly from the front of the jacket occasionally shifting due to the light breeze. They were cream in color and twisted downward to end in two red beads that kept the string bound only to splay outward at the bottom in threaded fluff.
The black leather gave way to a yellow knit trim, one you might find on a sweater that lined the hem. The cuffs too had the same treatment to them. Beneath it, all was a crimson turtleneck sweater, fittingly enough very similar to the one she was wearing currently. His shorts were black keeping with the already limited color palette with double stripes of gold down each side. It reminded her of something you might find as a pinstripe on a racecar for some reason. His legs were exposed if you could even call them that considering it was just bones.
The only thing that he wore left was a pair of hiking style boots. They were grey, auburn, and black and had red laces that matched his turtleneck sweater. The tops of them were lined with a fluffy black fur that contrasted the rest of his boots. The grommets embedded in the soft material were a golden color just as everything else was along with the piping and stitching details. The toe of the boot was cream in color and the sides of his treads though black in hue had golden triangles along the side. The marking almost looked like teeth. After all her observations were finished she looked downward. Its boney hand was outstretched to her covered in black fingerless gloves with gold spike rivets on each knuckle. The hilarious detail that she found though was the fact that the tops of his gloves had white markings on them that represented that of a skeletal hand bringing to mind his earlier bone-chilling comment to shake his hand.
She did not know what she should do in this situation. The way he spoke, even the way that he dressed called to mind some hostile things but she shouldn't use first looks as a basis for action should she? Toriel had looked sweet with a few notable discrepancies here and there but she turned out to be psychotic. It was already starting to look as if she was a poor judge of character. She should not be terrified of someone she doesn't even know and yet there was something about him that made her uncomfortable. It might have been that jagged grin or maybe the way his eye lights seemed to glow in a sadistic amusement. He was right she had to admit that not returning his greeting would be rather rude of her. She was sure her hesitancy was not lost on the skeleton in front of her.
The satchel that she had gripped so tightly before barely released when she let go. The tanned animal hide stuck to her hands now filled with nervous energy. The indentations of her vice-like grip were embedded within the strapping as she lifted a dainty porcelain hand. It was just a handshake, right? A simple gesture of goodwill, greeting, and perhaps friendship. The skeleton before her, no name currently given, was moving his phalanges as if his patience was waning. She decided that it be best if she did not wait any longer for fear of something ominous happening. She walked forward to meet him so that he did not have to come to her. He had been following her but he was still a good distance away. Her hand went to shake his own all the while Frisk had a bad feeling about it.
Sans distorted saw like smirk only grew as her hand came to grip his own. He had tampered with a joke joy buzzer that would leave the human with a rather jolting experience. The buzzer sent wicked shocks running through her system only causing him to burst into laughter. He finally let her hand go when he was finished with his none too pleasant prank, "Ha! Doll that was sweet! I didn't think I'd getcha with the ol joy buzzer in the hand trick!" He continued to fill the frozen air with his laughter. It would have been infectious if the one that had been pranked was not going to be soon nursing an electrically burned palm.
Frisk was greeted with a rather nasty electric shock when she had taken a chance on the skeleton in front of her. She had expected just a casual handshake to solidify the undeniable fact that she was a stranger here but, no. That would have been too easy. It hurt but at least she was still standing it was not like a game where electricity would have caused her to be frozen in place beyond a state of paralysis. Her head was slightly dazed from the unusual meeting but she just shook it off. She could have sworn that her heart was beating just a little bit slower after that and not due to her comfort level, cardiac arrest was more like.
One of her cobalt blue eyes unintentionally twitched. This guy, if you could call him that, just gave her a pet name. A pet name to a complete stranger no less. She just eyed him laughing away at the rather painful prank he just pulled on her. She really was a horrible judge of character so naive in her thinking. Her hand was still twitching from the electrical current that had passed through her as she placed it behind her back. She did not know what to think of this guy, err skeleton. His appearance was beyond intimidating but he was pulling pranks? Something did not line up. Didn't he say something about being a pal? That did not match up either from what she had gleaned from Flowey and her own personal conversations with Toriel. The smirk that twisted his face just before, upon reflection, was one that sent unwanted shivers down her spine. She hoped she wouldn't see it again.
Once Frisk's joy buzzer induced jitters had ceased as she removed her hand and let it hang off to her side. She was not sure if she should smile or pretend to laugh as she neither found it funny nor charming. If it were not for her usual happy go lucky disposition she probably would have had her eyebrows furrowed in mild terror. Instead, she decided on the latter only for it to come off nervous and shaky, "Hehehe y...yeah I… I guess I can be kind of gullible at times." She began to scratch the back of her head and play with her hair. A small, yet hesitant, smile graced her face. She was not sure how this was going to go but it did not stop her already irregular heart from beating faster.
Flowey internally cursed Frisk's trusting nature as she received a rather painful zap of electrical current. What he saw was a joke joy buzzer when the skeletal hand pulled away from her own. His glowing eyes watching with fear painted on his flower-like features. This was not good. He wanted to poke his head out of the bag and show that she was not alone but he feared for what would happen if another monster saw him. He was such a coward and he hated it. He continued to spectate silently his glowing eyes blinking within the darkness.
The skeleton's tone suddenly turned to one with a foreboding chuckle, "Heh.. boy I'll say doll." He motioned to the barrier his bro had erected some good feet away, "I hope ya not blind 'dere human... Ya know dis shit ain't gonna stop ya from goin through, right?" He silently watched her waiting for a reaction after his little...pep talk. If you could even call it that considering he was intimidating the human just through vocal inflection alone. He could see the confusion on her face, If she took too long to go through the barrier he would shove her forward instead. He was not going to waste any time.
Frisk attempted to comprehend what the skeleton in front of her was going on about. He seemed to know that it would not be an easy task to stop her from reaching the end of this journey. Still in mild confusion, Frisk just blinked. There was no real substantial way for her to make it through the gate behind her. She did not move as a look of concern crossed her face.
His eye lights were so focused on the human that he watched her fidget when he placed a hand over his face with a chuckle, "C'mon human lighten up ya should be proud ya know? After all... Didn't dat insane ol bag beyond da door tell ya?" If almost like clockwork, however, the mood once again changed. He used his magic to teleport right in front of her, moving her back adding a cruel grin to his already semi-permanent smile, "Ya lucky numba 7…."
Frisk could feel an aura of danger growing stronger. Before she would have pushed it away and thought it was but her paranoia. This sense was different than what she had felt with Toriel. Toriel's violence was based upon pure raw emotion. A grief that had consumed her to the breaking point. Any mention of such history would cause her to snap sending her into her unbridled psychotic bloodshed. This was very different. There was no motivation behind it. It was violence for the sake of it. There was only one word that swirled in her mind, amusement. All she could do was stare as her throat tightened. Lucky number 7 .
Her eyes widened as the memory flooded the world around her leaving her in a scene of her own making. She remembered staring at the scrapbook that she had found in Toriel's room. All those children. All six of them now long gone from this world. The very thought of such darkness caused her to involuntarily shudder. The words that had described them swirled around in her mind perseverance, justice, bravery, patience, kindness, DETERMINATION. She gulped audibly.
The barrier that rose was indestructible except for one fatal flaw. The power of the seven souls could be used against the barrier, it would be broken and all would go free.
"The only way to obtain a human soul… Frisk… is if it no longer inhabits a body." His tone had grown from informational to deeply disturbed, "You're a soul of integrity Frisk that bright cobalt blue makes it recognizable. They have already obtained six of the seven. Do you understand now?"
Integrity…
It was a scrapbook. Her nerves started to calm as she quickly flipped through it only to see pictures of the children she had seen in the hallway. The horrifying imagery stuck in the back of her mind as she turned to the front of the book. Each page had a name and some notes as well as a sepia photograph. Each page was well thought out and very informational. Some of the writing was in Toriel's hand and some were in a child's hand. Each one had a different theme to it. Some of them even had small doodles that a child might make with a crayon.
It was basically a memoir of all the children that Toriel had taken care of. All the children that had perished at the hands of the monsters here in order to be a means to an end, "The seven children. Frisk this is them."
All of her thoughts were interrupted by a single blink. A distance that should have taken at least some time to make was but a millisecond, no, faster than that. She immediately took a step back as her throat continued to constrict leaving her mute. That comment was not just a simple fact it was a threat. She took another step backward hearing the snow crunch under her boots. She felt like this was not going to turn out to be good a situation. She could not help the audible gulp that escaped her, "I...g….guess. I...I also have a name you know it's Frisk I am more than just a human..."
It was cute how she tried to keep up a brave act when he could see her shaking ever so slightly. She was terrified of him which was exactly how he wanted it to be. He chuckled low and deep as he kept walking her back more and more until he pinned her against the barrier that kept her from running away.
Frisk took steps backward in order to impede his advances on her but all was for naught. Something hard dug into her back preventing her from progressing any further. The wooden beams of the gate from before were her deliverer. A deliverer into captivity. There was nowhere for her to go. He continued to advance on her pinning her against the odd structure. All she could do was hold her breath. She did not know what was going to happen. The fear that swam in her eyes was apparent and her hands were pressed shakily against the beams that flanked either side of her.
The skeleton had never been one to let his desires slip through his bony fingers. He had her trapped with no means of escape and he just drank in all the little betrayals her body emitted. He was about to make his intentions quite clear as his fingers slowly traced her sweater-clad collarbone. He couldn't help himself. His hand came to trail down the middle of her chest while the other was slowly sliding toward her rear, "Ya know what dat means… sweet cheeks?" That rear was looking just too gropable for him to resist.
Frisk's eyes were filled with a combination of shock, horror, and fear. Those once sparkling blue eyes which seemed to have a glow about them began to darken. They filled with the misfortune of a past she would rather erase from existence. A past that chained her down sending her into a spiral of horrifying flashbacks and broken scenes. A true Hell on earth. She was frozen but not by a fear that most would expect to consume someone in her position. No. It was something else. A deep-seated horror locked behind a vault of her own making. When she finally snapped to she grabbed the hand trailing down her chest firmly, "What is it you think you're doing?" Her eyebrows were furrowed and even with the frigid bite of the forests winter air could not stop her from sweating. She was not going to let anyone take advantage of her... again , "No I don't know what that means." She could feel something different than before. She was sure she would have been paralyzed but such was not the case. Why the change suddenly came about she did not know.
*Frisk run!
Flowey shook his head vigorously just what was this guy planning to do?! He remembered what he said about the human soul. If this monster got a hold of her soul then...just as before he did not even want to even think of such a possibility. He obstructed his view of the scene with a leaf-like hand. His teeth dug into the soft part of his lip, eyes screwed shut painfully. He had to be brave for her, for Frisk. Just as he mustered up the courage to make his presence known...
He chuckled darkly when she bit back. Well, he was not going to let the human go anywhere and so he made sure that she stayed put. He leaned closer to her adding to his already sinister chuckle before he summoned four sharp redbones. They shot up from the frozen ground with a loud rumble shaking the earth. The spots from which the projectiles protruded looked as if it had exploded outward in a shower of dirt and debris. He leaned back a fair amount to admire his handiwork. The spears impaled the tender pale flesh of her thighs. He even heard the sickening squish and snap as the magically created weapon tore through her fragile human body. Her blood now added to the crimson glow pinning her in place and as an added measure he sent another round straight through her shoulders with a gut-wrenching crunch. It had cracked through her scapula.
The satchel that she had been carrying was severed causing the item to tumble downward and off into the snow behind the skeleton. The flap opened giving Flowey a full view as to what was happening. He could only infer so much from his place before. Now he saw everything displayed in front of him as he curled deeper into the dark recesses of the now fallen bag.
Frisk expected a rather biting reply from the monster in front of her. The time slowed as she waited and waited and waited for a response. There was no response but a split second of confusion followed by an unimaginable pain. The bones impaled her thighs only to add her right shoulder, then the left to the torture. She should have felt it. The agonizing pain that accompanied her scream. The bones had cut through her like she was paper to a pair of highly sharpened scissors. It severed muscles, tendons, nerves, and bone pinning her helplessly against the gate like a grotesque piece of artwork. The nerves now severed caused her entire body to shudder and quake as if some semblance of connection was still present. It was but a phantom. A reaction of the human body to continue to attempt to persist with its never-ending struggle to defy the inevitable. The blood continued to fall down into the snow below painting the frozen ground with a crimson pool. She could not move. She could not speak. The pain was unbearable and indescribable just like it had been before. That attack was not meant to kill her. No, it was far worse than that. It was meant to prolong her suffering before she succumbed to deaths merciless grasp.
"The other monsters if they get a hold of your soul...there is no telling what they might do. Some may take it straight to Asgore but others..."
He had pinned her to the barrier like a butterfly collector with his specimens. The only difference was the trails of crimson that began to stain her porcelain skin like a nauseating blank canvas. This was unlike anything he had experienced before as monsters did not bleed. His actions were creating a mess in which even his face now showed signs of a small spatter from the impact, "It means, kitten. dat when you're dead the barrier will be broken and We can get out of dis fucking shit hole finally. Dat fucking coward of a king can do his fucking job fa once." His mouth let out an almost animalistic growl at her, "But I think I am gonna have a great fucking time with you Kitten. Cause ya see... I like it... When my playthings have a bit a bite to em.." All he did was smirk at her even as she suffered. It was a sick and sadistic desire that plagued his mixed thoughts. One more unsavory than the last, "And well ya not goin' anywhere and ya lucky ya caught me in a good mood fa once, so ya know what I'm gonna do?"
Frisk's pain was of no consequence in her mind that is, externally tears had started to prick at her eyes. She should have known better. They all wanted her dead. How could she be so stupid? I can't run. I can't fight. What am I supposed to do ? She tried to move even an inch but the pain was too intense. She whimpered in the process only to open her eyes enough to glare at him with furrowed brows. She did not want to know what he was thinking but it couldn't be good, "If you want my soul so badly then just kill me and get it...over with." She tried to act tough but she was shaking. What was worse? The pain or the fear?
*Frisk what are you doing!? You idiot!
Flowey just stared onward. His eyes were wide as he lay there immobile. He should have helped her. He should have said something. The horrifying image displayed before him would not leave his mind. He could smell the blood, see it, and probably touch it as it ran his direction within the snow. His entire plant like body was shuddering to the point that he was useless. He was watching his friend painted with her own blood. It was horrifying. Is this the same torture and heartless massacre that she had endured with Toriel? He had been saved from the visual but now it lay before him. Her once pink lips dripped with crimson, her legs shuddering as she tried to move with a ghosted and severed connection.
His red eyes bore into her own blue ones where all he saw was a deep-seated physical but also emotional pain. Why did he give a damn? He wasn't going to care about some human girl that just fell down her and battered her pretty lashes at him, "I'm Gonna have... A GREAT TIME!" He replied accompanied by a deep, unnerving laugh as he stepped back and closed his fist. The bones that now pinned her in place began to branch off practically multiplying within her body. It was not long before the process ripped her body into bloody bits adding more carnage to his clothing. He was covered in her blood. He had just torn this human apart with a simple snap of his fingers. It was much too easy. He kept telling himself that he at least gave them a quick death though nothing could account for his torture of her before. He did not realize that his smile was gone replaced with a frown as he waited for the soul to materialize from what was left of her. It never appeared...
All Flowey could do was scream her name one final time, "FRISK!"
Nothing. There was not even an opportunity for one to think before being ripped apart. Her head had begun to drop as she felt her life draining. She had lost so much blood from the bones now impaling her shoulders and thighs. At least it was quick. As quick as it could have been anyway. She was impaled after all. Regardless before she felt herself being torn to pieces all she heard was a scream from in front of her. Flowey?
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