Chapter 2: Souls Relief

Silence descended, deafening after the assault of noise. Dazed, Sans struggled to focus his blurred vision on the crouched form of a child where the matter had been. He let his magic fall away, panting heavily at the exertion. He really should have been training all these years, this was ridiculous. He remembered a time where he could use magic like this for days at a time and not even be winded by the attempt. Pathetic. Frisk whimpered and he hugged them tighter. It wasn't over yet; the new child was climbing to their feet. Sans prepared himself for anything. They were off balance and clumsy, body too new to their old soul. The new child retained their green and yellow sweater, now in black trousers and sneakers as well. Their hair was wild and unkempt, blocking their face from his view. Sans squinted, he wanted to get a look in their eyes. If they looked sane then maybe this wouldn't have to end in blood just yet, maybe with their soul back the madness would leave. It was a far-fetched theory with no evidence behind it, just something Frisk had asked him to look for if he ever met the "real" Chara. God that human really could be so forgiving. To think they would want to help this demonic bastard after everything they'd done. Oh well, he could at least look. Tired red eyes met his as the new child raised their head in confusion. They looked surprised to be conscious, let alone actually alive. A red soul floated at their chest, dim and sickly in comparison to the one he knew so well from Frisk. Said child struggled in his arms, wanting to look at what had him so still. He squeezed them tightly, whispering an order to stay still and not look. They must have heard something in his voice because they stilled and held him tighter around his ribs anxiously.

Understanding dawned in Chara's features, eyes falling to their soul. Shaking hands cupped the red heart in front of them. "A... Soul?" They croaked, throat unused before now. They began to tremble, a small smile spreading on their lips. Unlike before, it looked remarkably normal. No strange pulling or unusual twist. Perhaps... No, he wouldn't hold hope. Not yet. "My soul?" Chara gaped, gaze jumping all around them in a confused state. "How?" the new child's eyes rested on Sans, demanding an answer. The skeleton shrugged.

"That's right," He forced a grin. "Your very own soul. Found it awhile back just lyin' around," Sans didn't mention where he'd found it, or that a certain little flower was the one that showed him where it was. As much as he hated that damn weed, it had been useful and helped him. He could spare him the hatred of his oldest friend at the very least. Chara squinted at him suspiciously. After a moment of glaring, they turned back to their soul. Sans watched carefully, noticing the way they tilted down their head so he couldn't see their eyes. Just as he was about to ask them if something was wrong, they started to shake. A soft rumbling came from the child, growing louder with each passing second. Chara threw back their head in hysterical laughter, voice ringing through the hall. Malice dripped from their tone and Sans feared the worse. Sure enough, mad red eyes met his again, face twisted in a sadistic smile that stretched their face unnaturally. Rosy cheeks were flushed more then normal, making their face seem paler. Insanity seeped into Chara like water to a sponge, filling them until their eyes glowed with hatred.

"You idiot! Now I can just kill you myself!" They cackled loudly, confident in their non-existent ability to fight. Chara hadn't noticed their LOVE, they simply assumed that their strength was superior to his own. They did not see the measly 20 HP they had, nor the 0 LV and EXP. Their madness was all their own. They charged, no weapon in hand, sheer insanity and idiocy driving them forward without thought. "I'll cut you both to pieces!" They cried, eyes too wide and unblinking as they ran to close the distance with that twisted smile showing too many teeth. They didn't notice their lack of speed or stamina, didn't feel their heavy breaths that he could so clearly see them struggling to take. Their body was too new, too young. They weren't used to physical restraints anymore. He would have pitied the creature if they weren't still intent on killing him and Frisk. Summoning his magic in his chest, Sans let his rage fill him. Several Blasters blinked into existence, creating a wall between him and the demon child. Chara stumbled to a halt, mad smile replaced with terror. The hell beasts growled with their master.

"That's right," they said with him, a condemning rumble; an avalanche of boulders down a snow covered mountain. Somehow quiet while retaining an unknowable level of threat. Chara shrieked, backing away from the demonic skulls on shaky legs. Bones rose from the floor behind them, blocking their retreat and effectively capturing them in a cage of death. Sans felt no remorse for how cruel the situation appeared. "Your very own soul," he smiled with his Blasters, their menacing fangs strangely not as horrifying as his own below the empty sockets that remained trained on their target, one burning blue with intent. "With your own mortal life," the demon collapsed to a kneel with the force behind the words, dread etching into the madness on their features in a strange twist of their lips and the furrow of their brow.

"I'll just come back!" the poor child screamed at the monstrous skulls, trying to watch them and Sans at the same time. The skeleton chuckled darkly, his weapons echoing him.

"With Frisks determination?" his grin widened almost painfully as the skulls continued to laugh. Chara's face drained of all colour, mouth working to make some argument but found there was none to be made. They note their stats with a startled gaze. Horror crashed into them, knocking them back to their bottom. They scrambled back, body stopping an inch before the bone bars that held them captive. They cast around frantically, looking for some way out. But there was no way out. He'd made sure of that. "Sorry brat, but I think the kid wins this time," Sans could both feel and hear the venom in his voice, teeth parting to flash in his own magics flare in a show of malicious intent. High pitched whines overlaid one another as his Blasters charged. Chara screamed pleas, begging him to call off his hounds. Sans simply smiled, all but glowing in the white-hot fire of his weapons. He raised his hand and pointed to the bastard child as a silent order to the hell beasts. The skulls fired, a blinding light that filled his sights but Sans didn't close his eyes. He heard the demon cry for help and knew that no one would come. There was no one left to go to them, no one to care. Their yells of pain were consumed by the blasts, far more powerful then what was actually necessary. And yet the skeleton found that he couldn't help himself. He wanted to be sure. The damned creature was slippery, he needed no chances for survival. After all, what goes around comes around. If this thing never offered mercy, then why should he? What they had done was unforgivable. If he was being completely honest he didn't even mean the Genocide. While it was horrific and terrible, he didn't see that it could have never been forgiven, had they just RESET and tried to make things right. He knew why they did what they did, it was in his notes, as clear as day. He understood their hatred towards humans, he could grasp their reasons behind a Genocide to a race that wasn't at fault for their pain. He could understand lashing out. What made him so angry, had caused him so much hatred for the demon, was that they used Frisk to commit the crimes. The human was completely innocent, they had never done anything wrong, always trying to be kind and gentle no matter what life threw their way. And this fucking thing had stolen their body as a creature of darkness and insanity and forced them to destroy what they loved most. The only family they had ever known, the only creatures they could call friends, killed by their own hands without control. The poor child would never be the same. There would always be a hint of sorrow, age and pain to their gaze now. They would always be tired, dark bags under their eyes a normal thing and a slight twitch to their fingers ignored. They would suffer from nightmares worse than ever before, taste dust on their tongue and hear the screams of innocent people for the rest of their days. The child had experienced enough trauma without this son of a whore making it a million times worse. A dozen more Blasters blinked into being and joined the fray, charged by his fury at the thrice damned being.

When the skulls ceased firing and the hall returned to it's former golden glow, Sans watched the old red soul that was Chara finally break into pieces and fall into dust. Exhaustion saturated his bones in a thick layer of what felt to be grime. He had expected to feel triumphant, satisfied, something good. Yet the skeleton felt only like he wanted to sleep. He prayed to whatever god there may be that the demon child would remain dead this time, never to return. One by one the hell beasts faded out of existence as their purpose had been fulfilled. The cage of femurs returned to their pocket of space where they belonged, waiting to be needed again. The child in his arms trembled, hands clapped over their ears in a desperate attempt to block out at least one creatures dying howl. Tears streamed down their face, uncontrolled and free after fuck knows how long being held back. Sans screwed his eyes shut against his own tears, smile falling at last. With shaking hands he pet Frisks hair gently, attempting to give some form of comfort for the frightened. Man was he fucked up. The kid set him on edge, even after killing the true enemy. It wasn't their fault, he knew, but still his hands trembled slightly and he couldn't quite relax the way he wanted. He hoped that it would pass with time as he got used to Frisk being themselves again. A small part of him knew, however, that the child would still frighten him at times no matter how familiar they would become with the other. With a sob, Sans with the other survivor, clutching them desperately to his chest, unwilling to lose another soul to the unknown horrors of the world. Quiet whimpers filled the air of the tranquil and destroyed Judgement Hall. Orange light cast through grand windows dulls and no longer magnificent to look at.

The demon had finally passed on.