Chapter Twenty Three: Music and Mind Control
"Wake up or I'll kill y-"
A horrible screech interrupted the death threat. Sans jolted upward in a flurry of flailing limbs. A barely-audible thud as he hit the floor.
Moments later, he registered that the noise was merely Papyrus' version of music. She'd been playing it each day upon waking. He glared at the carpet from beneath the tangled mess of blankets. He muttered a few ireful words as he struggled to free himself from the partial burrito.
Once on his feet, he dismissed the alarm and stumbled out into the hallway. Doomkitty wove herself between his clumsy legs, and he once again fell.
He was in no mood for this.
"Papyrus!" He finished the trek to her bedroom. He pounded on the door upon finding it locked. "PAPYRUS!"
No answer.
He sighed, making his way to the basement, where he would switch off the breaker connected to her room.
OoOoO
He'd learned a number of things, one of them being that these creatures were utterly insane. No one had believed in the likes of magic and sorcery for centuries, yet here they were. They attributed their anomalous powers to the same force that had supposedly graced wizards. Wizards that existed only in fairy tales no one over the age of four could find entertainment in. The notion of magic they constantly tossed around threatened to give him a headache after half a minute of listening. In the back of his mind, Sans knew he should be more open to the concept. After all, what better place to learn about the creatures and their powers than from the beings themselves? Nevertheless, he continued to reject the absurd idea.
There was no such thing as magic. The closest thing to it was Nil, the mysterious element which seemed prevalent in anomalies. Perhaps they mistook Nil for the imaginary force present only in fantasy? These beings weren't typically smart.
He stared at the laptop without truly seeing it. In spite of his unrelenting efforts, his search for an underlying darkness proved fruitless. Every hint at conspiracy lead nowhere, supposedly disproved with five minutes of research. It meant little, of course, as their cover up methods could simply be more advanced than the typical lies. Try as me might, in spite of all his experience and skill, he failed to uncover anything of interest. No matter how much he pried, he found nothing. It served only to worsen the prickling in his chest. He was in the midst of trying to access this world's dark web when a knock at the door made him jump.
Closing the laptop, he approached the door with a deep breath. The odd odor which permeated the air had grown familiar. He hardly noticed it as he warily peeked out at the Papyrus impersonation.
"Yeah?"
"OTHER SANS! LUNCH TIME APPROACHES!" It struck a dramatic pose. "ARE YOU READY?"
"Ready fer what," he questioned with narrowed eye sockets.
"THE PICNIC! I REMINDED YOU TWELVE TIMES YESTERDAY. REALLY, I HAD BELIEVED A RESPONSIBLE ADULT VERSION OF MY BROTHER…. WOULD HAVE A BETTER MEMORY THAN THIS. NO MATTER! THE SPAGHETTI IS PREPARED AND IT'S TIME TO GO!"
He shuddered at the thought of that pasta. "Uh, no thanks. Think I'll jus' stay here an' uh, do anything other than that."
"NONSENSE," it proclaimed, halting the door with a foot. It pushed its way into the room. "YOU SPEND FAR TOO MUCH TIME BY YOURSELF. WHAT DO YOU EVEN DO IN HERE ALL DAY?"
"…. I play video games," he claimed with a suspicious glare, remembering the various games he'd found on the computer.
It froze, allowing a dreadful silence to fill the air.
*You are filled with fear.
Not enough air not enough air not enough air not enough-
"THERE ARE…. VIDEO GAMES IN HERE?"
"Heh…. Uh…. I-I…."
Yep, this is it. I'm gonna die. This is the day I die.
The Papyrus continued to stare at him with that harsh expression as he struggled for words.
Then an abrupt, "WERE THEY ALREADY HERE, OR DID YOU-"
"Yeah! Yeah, I-they-they was-I didn't-"
"WELL…. OKAY THEN! THAT IS A PROBLEM I SHALL DEAL WITH WHEN MY SANS RETURNS."
Its ominous expression brought an unexpected heaviness to his insides. That poor anomaly. Never had he ever expected to pity one.
"IN THE MEANTIME! I WILL NOT ALLOW THE PRODUCTIVE GROWN-UP VERSION OF HIM TO FORM THE SAME HABITS! VIDEO GAMES ARE THE WORST FORM OF LAZINESS, YOU SEE. IT'S PRETENDING TO DO SOMETHING WHEN YOU'RE REALLY NOT, AND I SIMPLY WON'T STAND FOR SUCH THINGS!"
He blinked, unable to do much more. He battled with his lungs, willing them to inhale. They refused.
"SO GET READY AND MEET ME DOWNSTAIRS. WE MUST NOT BE LATE!"
And with that, it made its overly-theatrical exit.
Sans stood there, counting the seconds. He reached five before his legs gave out.
He sat on the floor, in a parallel universe of lunatics, wondering how anything could hold such hatred for video games. Laziness or not, everyone needed a hobby!
He donned the expected jacket and joined the creature. During the drive, he found himself enthralled. Since when was the sky such a beautiful shade of blue? The city of this world wasn't as developed as the one he knew. Vibrant colors captured his attention in spite of it all, his breaths growing deeper as he observed the lovely green leaves and array of flowers. He'd only walked these streets prior, too distracted by passersby to notice the simple elegance of nature. When had he last enjoyed the majesty of a sunrise?
It seemed he should remember when last he witnessed the wonderful blend of fiery colors. It was…. Right, the Bermuda Triangle Incident! The lights in his eye sockets brightened victoriously at the memory. How could he forget such an adventure?
The lights dimmed. That event had taken place years ago. Had it really been so long?
"WE'RE HERE."
He exited the car and shoved his hands into his pockets. He stood motionless for a time, feeling the faint warmth of the sun. He stared up at this world's home star, relishing its light. He'd taken life's simple pleasures for granted.
"HMM…. THERE THEY ARE!"
Following the creature's gaze, he saw the group of anomalies at a distant table. The goats waved, the Timetwist being appearing from behind the Toriel. The prickling pain returned in an instant. He trailed along behind the Papyrus, silently berating himself for lowering his guard. How could he be so careless? What had gotten into him? Could it be that this world they ruled was itself an anomaly, one that possessed a subtle form of mind control?
That was surely the cause for his musings. After all, the sun was just that, and flowers were nothing special. This world was filled to the brim with deadly beings; his precarious situation called for the utmost caution. He would not fall prey to enemy tricks.