Step. Step. Step.
Slowly, shakily, Kris rounded the corner and hiked up the driveway, their sneakers scrunching against the pavement. They were still digging their fingernails into their hands, still hanging their head low in a vain attempt to hide their crying.
Step. Step. Step.
They'd managed to keep it from taking control for the entire walk home – which would've been a nice personal victory, if only the rest of the day hadn't already happened. As it was, the only reason it couldn't break through was because Kris had found something, at long last, to feed into their indignant, anger-induced focus.
Forcing themselves to think about their harrowing experience in the Dark World, keeping it all fresh in their mind, probably wasn't the healthiest way to deal with it. But they had already given up on finding 'healthy' ways to deal with it anyway.
They tried not to think about how disappointed Asriel would be if he heard that.
Step. Step.
Stop.
Kris felt themselves come to a dead stop in front of a house, and they glanced up just enough to find the worn-brass knob. Taking a deep breath, they reached a trembling arm out.
With a push, the door to the Dreemurr household swung open, its hinges squeaking ever-so-slightly. Almost immediately, Kris felt a blast of air conditioning assault their senses, and they stepped inside as quickly as they could. As soon as they had both feet in the house, they whirled around to close everything up behind them.
"Kris? Is that you?" A warm, nurturing voice spoke from the next room.
The human didn't answer, too focused on pulling the deadbolt over before they completely lost their concentration. It was only once they heard the click of the lock that they let themselves relax.
"Oh!" They turned around again, just in time to see a familiar, goat-like monster peek out from the kitchen. Her expression brightened, and she set something aside before striding over to them with a smile on her face. "Welcome home, Kris!"
Before they knew it, Toriel Dreemurr – or in their case, Mom – had knelt down and wrapped her arms around them. Despite all of their worries, despite all of their rage, Kris instinctively leaned into the hug, letting the corners of their mouth curl into the ghost of a smile. Reaching out, they returned the goat's embrace, hoping that she wouldn't notice their trembling.
It didn't work, of course, but at least they tried. A couple seconds into the hug, Toriel pulled back a little, cocking her head in concern. "Kris...? Is something wrong? You're shaking..."
They tried to mumble something in response, but it just came out as a quiet grunt... which was then followed by a single sniffle. Through her glasses, Kris saw their mom's eyes widen, and suddenly, her hand was gently cupping one of their cheeks.
"Oh, Kris..." She dropped her voice to a gentle tone, rubbing her comparatively-huge thumb up and down to wipe away their tears. "What happened?"
Even as she asked, however, Kris felt it worming into their head again, hazy and overwhelming. Toriel's kindness had distracted them long enough that they'd lost their mental grip. Now, they only had a few seconds, maybe a minute at best.
Then again, today had been so exhausting that coming up with an excuse was all too easy.
"Mhh... fell asleep... studying," Kris murmured, speaking so quietly that Toriel had to lean in to hear them. "Really... bad dream."
A low hum rumbled in Toriel's throat, and she ran her hand a little further upwards, pulling Kris' bangs aside. Their red eyes, unhidden, met their mother's understanding gaze, and even with it crawling closer and closer, they couldn't help but feel a little better.
"Oh dear... have you been having nightmares again? Is that why you ate the pie last night?" The goat thought aloud, giving them another hug before standing up and taking their hand. "Would you like to help make another pie tonight? Or maybe I could help with your homework first, so you won't worry about it?"
Inwardly, Kris felt more than a little disappointed – under normal circumstances, those would've been very tempting options. But they couldn't cut it any slack. Not after today.
"No..." They shook their head in response. "Just... need... space..."
For a split-second, Toriel looked crushed. Kris absolutely hated it.
"O-Okay, my child..." The goat replied, still holding their hand even as she looked down at them. "Then go ahead and go up to your room, okay? I was just about to start dinner, so I will be here if you need anything."
With the last of their strength, Kris nodded, and Toriel squeezed their hand before reluctantly heading back into the kitchen. Kris weakly made their way over to the stairs, climbed up to the second floor, and slipped into their bedroom. Staggering over to their bed, they collapsed onto the blanket.
As they stared up at the barren ceiling, they thought back on everything they and Noelle had gone through today, one more time. The memories still shocked them, horrified them, made them wish they could have done more than just say 'sorry'. They were furious, even as their face went blank.
And when it finally took control of Kris' body again, pushing them into the depths of their own mind, they dragged that feeling of fury all the way down with them.
You want to leave so badly?
Hmph. You are just like all the others.
There is only one solution to this.
Prove yourself... prove to me that you are strong enough to survive.
Tiny flames flickered as they swept around your soul, some narrowly grazing it, others missing it entirely. With quick gestures and subtle hand movements, the bright silhouette cast the wisps about in swirling patterns.
But you would endure. You refused to fight back.
What are you doing?
Attack or run away!
What are you proving this way?
Stop it. Stop looking at me that way.
Go away!
The silhouette's arms drop. The fireballs stop.
There's a one-sided conversation, but for some reason, you can't seem to hear it.
And suddenly, your surroundings fill with color: a soothing, stony purple.
In front of you, there's a door. Even though it's just a door, it beckons.
And as you step towards it, you hear a familiar voice coming from behind you...
Goodbye, my child...!
Kris woke up with a start, sucking in air as the world around them came back into focus. Their eyes were open wide, and they could feel beads of sweat dripping down their brow. They took a couple deep breaths to calm their nerves, but even as they adjusted to the darkness of the night, their mind was still stuck on the strange, surreal dream they'd had.
And the more they thought about it, the more confused they felt.
What in the world was that? They knew that dreams weren't supposed to make sense, of course, but that had been so vague, yet so vivid. So unlike anything they'd ever dreamed before. And, strangely enough, there was a yearning, a sense of nostalgia, somewhere deep inside their heart.
The human slowly pushed themselves up, letting the covers fold over. Then, instinctively, they took a quick look down at their chest. The fact that they did so without any resistance was a telltale sign that they were in control of their body again.
Then it all clicked together, and Kris furrowed their brow.
Was it... sleeping?
Was it... dreaming...!?
They sat there in their bed for a while, musing over the idea. They still didn't really know what it was, aside from the fact that it had barged into their life uninvited one day. But this... this was all new to them. The figure, the flames, the ruins, the voice...
...the voice!
Kris raised their head in realization – and then felt the corners of their mouth curl into a smirk.
If it was still 'asleep', then it probably hadn't meant for them to see the dream. But now that they knew about it, they knew exactly what they needed to do tonight. They had been considering it before as it was, but now they were certain. After everything that had happened in the library's Dark World, this terrible thing had accidentally given them – them, Susie, Noelle, Berdly – a lifeline.
With a grunt, they scooted their legs around and slid out of bed, taking a few tentative steps to make sure they weren't about to fall over. They only stopped when they noticed the plate sitting in the middle of the bedroom: a neatly-cut, expertly-cooked slice of pie. Even though it had long since gone cold, the room was still filled with the scents of butterscotch and cinnamon.
Kris' smirk softened, if only for a moment. As much as they wanted to dig right in, they weren't sure when it would take control again, and this was too good of a lead to give up.
Making their way over to the door, they turned the knob and stepped out into the hall, trying to keep their footsteps as quiet as possible. Slowly, shakily, they crossed through the hallway, then went downstairs, clutching at the railing along the way. Once they were halfway down, they dug into one of their pants-pockets and pulled out their cell-phone, idly thumbing at the power button.
As the screen flashed on, Kris blinked in surprise. There was a string of text messages that they had managed to sleep straight through.
They were from Susie.
- hey Kris
- sorry for bailing on you
- Noelle asked if we could chat
- she kinda needed it
Kris' smirk softened again. Good... they knew that ditching Susie would have pissed her off, but since Noelle was so skittish around them now, they figured they'd take their chances and give the two of them some space. And thankfully, it sounded like it had paid off.
- I think we really need to talk too
- before we hang out I mean
- so you better be at school tomorrow
- or else I'm gonna come to your house and kick your ass
Rolling their eyes, Kris closed the phone and tucked it away again. That sounded more than fine to them, though hopefully she'd forget about the ass-kicking part of it.
As they touched down onto the first floor, they sidled up against the wall and peeked around the corner, just in case. The kitchen was clear, though, and so they crossed over to the living room, slowing to a stop between the couch, the chairs... and the television.
Even as they thought about it, Kris turned towards the TV.
With a couple steps, they carefully knelt down in front of it, lightly running their fingertips over its base. Eventually, they passed over a pair of old-fashioned dials, and they leaned in close, narrowing their eyes in order to check their labels.
As they did, however, they suddenly felt a sharp pulse in their chest. Their eyes widened. It was starting to wake up.
They leaned in until their nose was mere inches away from touching the TV, reading the labels as quickly as they could. One said 'CHANNELS'. The other said 'VOLUME'.
They turned the volume all the way down, then turned the channels all the way up.
The TV screen blared to life, completely silent and filled with static. Kris flinched as the harsh light flooded into their vision, but once they turned away and crawled back into the middle of the room, they were able to see just fine.
Another sharp pulse in their chest.
Reaching around, they dug into their other pants-pocket... and pulled out the knife.
A third pulse, and suddenly, it was creeping back in, lingering at the edges of their mind.
No. Not here. Not now!
Reaching their other hand out, Kris reared back... and then plunged it straight through their shirt and into their chest.
Despite how it looked – and how goddamn painful it was – there were no bones, no organs, no mush. They felt around blindly for a moment, until at last they found what they were looking for. Then, they wrapped their fingers around it, grasped it tight... and yanked as hard as they could.
And again.
And again.
And again!
On the fifth yank, they finally tore it out, leaving their body seemingly untouched. They raised it high and threw it a withering glare.
The glowing red heart. Their own soul... except not.
Because right now, their soul was also... it.
"I..." Kris said, voice quiet, throat dry. "Won't... let you... hurt... them...!"
And in a single swift motion, they brandished their knife, leapt into the air, and thrust the blade into the center of the living room.
A beam of pure light erupted from the ground, accompanied by a surge of crackling sound and whooshing air. Not a second later, the light seemed to invert, turning into an even deeper darkness than the night outside. And then, the beam was gone, replaced by an endless stream of shadows that seemed to erupt from the earth itself.
Kris hopped back to their feet, then took a wobbling step backwards. Somehow, they'd finished their work just in the nick of time.
They returned the knife to their pocket, then bent over and shoved the soul back into their chest with a grimace. As soon as they drew their arm out, they could feel it again. It pulled at their mind with a vengeance – probably trying to make up for lost time, or something like that.
Little by little, the clouds of darkness filled the Dreemurr house, and Kris stumbled over to the couch, climbing up and laying their head on the armrest. With how much energy they'd expended, they knew that it would take over again any moment now. But by now, there was no escape. Better just to go back to sleep.
Briefly, their gaze flicked over to the stairs. As far as they knew, Toriel was still up in her room, on the complete opposite side of the house. For better or worse, there was no escape for her, either. But she would be okay. She was strong. Kind. She'd be able to take care of herself.
She'd be able to help unfreeze the Darkners, and help save Berdly.
After all, the voice in the dream, the figure casting fire magic, had been her.
Kris felt it surge into their head, and as they settled in for the night, they closed their eyes and put on a confident, determined smile.
"Sorry... mom..."
A/N: Hahahah oops, I still haven't finished playing Ch2 yet :V
I'm a little surprised I wrote this as quickly as I did, but in all honesty I think I got the idea for it just a day after posting Confidant proper. Noelle and Susie both got their own long scenes, so I kinda felt obligated to do a little more with Kris, to round things off. And in all honesty, it was actually really fun! Kris from the Snowgrave perspective is actually super-interesting to write, both from the perspective of "I am controlled by forces from beyond" and "oh god why are they acting so evil now".
They seem somewhat used to, or maybe ambivalent about, the player's control - or at least, it's been happening for long enough that they know they can tear their soul out - but with the sudden shift in mood, I can see them being so full of anger and traumatic reaction that they'd be able to channel those emotions. And yet they can't really go to anyone about the problem, because it's so farfetched and incomprehensible.
So they're a prisoner in their own mind, only getting control back in rare moments, and can only weather the storm themselves (they think). So what can they do? They play dirty. They use their righteous anger to force "the player" down, and they do whatever they can to deny "the player" opportunities to use them. It's certainty not the healthiest way to deal with it, but... well, that's what character development would be for, ideally! ;p
As for the dream, that's mostly based on Toby describing Deltarune as "a game you can play after Undertale, if you want". It's clear that certain dialogue options and other things are meant for us to understand, but not anyone else. So I like the idea that it could work the other way around, with the player showing characters things they would never see otherwise. Plus, Toriel and her fire magic would make for an excellent salve to soothe the Snowgrave wounds.
Plus, it leaves the door open in case I want to write more. So yeah! Neat stuff.