Chapter 5

"These are the children who died," Frisk pulled the family portrait off the wall and told Mask as she remembered what Renart, the man with the fox mask, had said. "Chara must have been one of the kids. The other was – what did that man say his name was? – Asther, or something like that."

"Asriel, I believe," Mask corrected.

Frisk stared at the family of four and didn't realize she was gripping the piece in her hands too tightly until she heard the paper crinkle in her grasp. Realizing she was mangling the picture, Frisk quickly but carefully returned it to its place on the wall. These were Chara's and Asriel's art pieces, surviving long after their creators died and now existing as reminders of who these children once were.

"Does any of this seem familiar to you?" Frisk asked, turned her attention away from the melancholy drawings to look at Mask.

Mask waited a heartbeat before answering, "No, I cannot say I recognize any of this at all."

"So, whoever you are might be unrelated to whatever happened to these children?"

"I cannot say if I am somehow directly or indirectly responsible or a mere bystander in their fate. I cannot say if their deaths happened before or after my own, if I truly am the ghost of someone who was once living. I do not know anything, Frisk, and this worries me. What if I have no past? What if I'm nobody at all?"

"Don't say that," Frisk said, frowning at Mask. "Everybody is somebody. We will figure out who you were, and if you were nobody before, we will figure out who you are now. Everyone is alive for a reason. That includes you."

"But am I truly alive, existing as a ghost with whom only you can communicate?" Mask asked, its attention shifting from Frisk back to the drawings. "I am not sure if I am living."

"Well, uh, you see . . . ," Frisk stuttered, struggling to the find an answer, "you have thoughts and feelings, right? Even without a heartbeat, or at least I don't know if you have a heartbeat, you can still be considered alive because you're here. If you aren't here and thinking and feeling, what are you if not alive?"

For a while, Mask did not respond. Finally, it answered, "Thank you for trying to help me feel better."

It sounded as if Mask did not feel any better at all, but Frisk decided to not push the topic. After she had looked at and studied every drawing on the wall, Frisk sat at the foot of the bed and lied backwards. Staring at the ceiling, she sighed. They were neither closer to discovering who Mask was or to her leaving the forest. It seemed that as long as Toriel was there, she would be an obstacle to their advancing forward deeper and further than the Ruined Woods.

Taking another deep breath, Frisk closed her eyes.

It had just been another day, like any other that came before it. Then there was screaming. A crowd had formed. Frisk, who was so small that she hadn't even grown into her shoes yet, ran towards the crowd. She fought her way to the front to see what had gathered so much attention.

Then Frisk saw. Then she too screamed. The image now forever burned into her mind.

There was a monster in her village, and in his arms was a child whose face had been ripped off.

Frisk, drenched in a cold sweat, startled awake. She had not realized she had fallen asleep. There was a wool blanket on top of her, and the confused girl looked around the unfamiliar room.

"Oh, you're awake," said Mask, and all of a sudden, Frisk remembered where she was and what was going on. Seeing her stare at the blanket in confusion, Mask supplied, "Toriel came to check on you. When she saw that you were asleep, she put that on you to keep you warm. However, from the looks of it, you didn't need anything for that purpose."

"I'm okay," Frisk replied as she tried to wipe the sweat off her forehead only for the back of her hand to collide with the wooden mask. Feeling warm enough already, Frisk took the mask off and set it to the side. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes."

"Did anything else happen while I was sleeping?"

"Toriel brought a slice of pie for you. She left it on the desk."

Frisk turned to look, and true to Mask's words, there was a slice of pie on the desk. Its sweet aroma filled the room. The scent of butterscotch and cinnamon felt warm and comforting it these eternally autumn woods.

Mouth watering, Frisk reluctantly asked, "Do you think it's safe to eat?"

"If Toriel wanted to hurt you," Mask answered, "I think she would have seized the opportunity while you were taking your nap."

Since Mask had a point, and Frisk really did want to try such a delicious smelling pie, she stood from the bed, walked towards the desk, and picked up the fork Toriel left on the plate and cut off a bite. Hesitating only a second to feel confident that this was safe to eat, Frisk shoved the fork inside her mouth. Her eyes immediately rolled to the back of her head.

"Are you all right?!" Mask asked, sounding alarmed.

"Sho good," Frisk answered through the mouthful of cinnamon-butterscotch goodness. The buttery crust melted in her mouth. The warm filling danced along her tongue, seasoning her tastebuds with the satisfying combination. Picking up the plate, Frisk quickly went to work on the dessert. "I don't think I have ever tasted anything this delicious! This is worth trading my soul for."

Masked seemed to chuckle. "I don't think your soul is worth a slice of pie, Frisk, no matter how good said pie is."

"You're right. My soul is worth two slices of pie." Frisk giggled before taking another forkful. Yet as she chewed, it crossed Frisk's mind that Mask was unable to try the pie. It had no mouth, but Mask was still able to communicate to her. Despite lacking eyes, Mask was just as aware of their surroundings as Frisk was. Does that mean Mask can smell without a nose and taste without a tongue?

"Would you like to try a bite?" Frisk offered, questioning herself more than Mask.

"No, thank you," Mask replied. "I have no desire for food. No need to ever feel guilty for eating in front of me. I might not need nourishment, but you still do."

Frisk snorted. "I don't think pie can be considered nourishing."

"Maybe not for your body, but definitely for the soul you would trade away for two more pieces of that pie."

Laughing, Frisk finished the rest of the pie. Now that she was rested and had eaten, she was ready to figure out what her next course of action would be. As she looked at the now empty plate in her hands, Frisk figured perhaps giving the dirty dish to Toriel would be a start.

Careful to quietly exit the room and make her way towards the kitchen, Frisk looked over the home with a fresh eye. It was simple, modest place to live. As weird as it was for Frisk to be inside a perfect stranger's house, she still felt that the place could be a nice home to anyone who chose to stay here.

Frisk turned towards the kitchen but froze when she saw Toriel washing the dishes. It was as she was about to open her mouth to announce her arrival that Frisk noticed that Toriel's shoulders were shaking. Sniffles could be heard over the running water and shuffle of dishes.

I wonder if she's thinking about her kids, Frisk thought, mind focused on all the drawings in the bedroom. She sought for the words to say, but she stopped when she saw Toriel reach for her mask. Not knowing why she did, Frisk stepped out of the doorway and peeked over the edge.

Back to Frisk, Toriel removed her mask with one hand and wiped her eyes with the other. Mask in hand, Toriel placed both hands by the sink and audibly sighed. Another sniffle. Some muttering that Frisk could not make out. Toriel then turned her attention towards her mask, and although her white hair fell in the direction she turned her head, Frisk still got a good look at the profile of Toriel's face.

Frisk suppressed the urge to gasp, and she was suddenly hyper aware that she had left her own mask in the other room.

"Get away, now!" Mask ordered, its voice helping Frisk realize that the emotion she was beginning to feel with her racing heart and ice cold blood was fear.

Without hesitation, Frisk spun on her heel and flew away like a small bird back to the faux safety of the bedroom.

Now Frisk knew why everyone she had seen in the forest thus far wore masks. When she saw a glimpse of Toriel's face, Frisk saw that the older woman had no nose, a mouth without lips, and sunken black holes in the place of eyes. It also appeared that it wasn't skin covering Toriel's face, but a white cloth sown from her chin to her forehead instead.

It was no wonder Frisk needed to wear a mask. If the others saw what she looked like without it, they would immediately know that she was not one of them. Now she truly understood why Flowey stressed how important it was for nobody to know why Frisk wasn't from the forest.

Shutting the door behind her as gently as possible, Frisk pressed her back against it and placed a hand over her racing heart as to not let it pound right out of her chest. The memories of her nightmare came back in crystal clear clarity. She knew what would happen if anyone ever saw the face she hid beneath her mask.

"I didn't know. I don't understand." Mask was flying back in forth, his tone just as scared and confused as Frisk felt. "What happened to Toriel? Is this why she is wearing a mask? Is this why all the others are wearing masks too?"

"There were legends I was always told about Ebott Forest while I was growing up," Frisk said, half speaking to Mask and half reminding herself of those same legends. "The adults always warned us children to never go into the Ebott Forest. There are monsters in there."

Frisk looked up and saw Mask floating perfectly still. Even though its face was that of a smile, she knew her ghost friend was not happy. She thought that if Mask's face changed with its emotions, its mouth would be painted open as if Mask couldn't decide whether to cry or scream.

Forcing herself to say it aloud, Frisk spat, "Toriel is one of those monsters."