Notes: Violence warning I guess? It became a lot more psychedelic than graphic.
Sans the skeleton leads you into a room that can only be classified as a prison.
It's a square room of nothing but a bed (at least it looks comfy), a decent pillow, and a fake potted plant left in one of the forgotten corners. He sets down the instant ramen on your bed, only to free his hands so he can search the insides of his pockets. He takes out a crumpled bag of potato chips (it's already open?) and leaves it on your bed.
"a midnight snack, in case you get hungry," he winks at you.
And then he's already gone, practically running out of the door, because he doesn't really want to be here with you. The door shuts loudly.
...He forgot to take the ramen package, too. So now you've got two snacks on your bed, neither of which you'll eat...
You shuffle slowly towards the door. It's made of all metal with no handle on this side. Looks pretty intimidating. Above the door is a camera, pointing down at you. The room's small enough that you couldn't possibly move anywhere without being in its view.
You place one hand where the door handle should be. The other side is completely silently. Lightly you push. No budge.
See, it's a prison.
You back away and nearly trip. You're not used to wearing shoes. Well you're not used to walking or anything related to dexterity either, but shoes are just another added complication to the equation.
You stare at the door and wait for him to come back.
If you're going to stare at anything, it might as well be the camera.
You tilt your head slightly and look up to the lens. It's just unblinking glass, and you can't see anyone through it, but maybe someone can see you.
…...
The lights flicker off. They're probably motion sensitive. You not moving does that.
Yep, you've been staring for a really long time now.
Your legs ache. Pretty obvious that you're not used to exercise. Why not sit down? You're probably going to be here a while. ...You don't want to sit down? Okay, whatever. It's not like it makes a difference.
You keep hoping that he's coming back, but he's not coming back. And whenever that door opens, you're not going to like whatever comes next. Just because one of your captors showed you basic human respect, doesn't mean others will. Or that the skeleton is obligated to keep being nice to you.
Hours pass by.
You hear footsteps. And the sound of something unlocking on the other side of the metal door. The lights flicker on and the door opens.
It's a skeleton, but it's not the same short one you wanted. This one is thin and tall... very tall and probably twice your height. He looks like something out of a Noir film, with stiff white bones and a professional black coat. Really, he's just missing the hat.
He looks like the complete opposite of the other skeleton.
"Come," he says in a gravel voice.
Before you can even move to comply, he's grabbed your wrist and started walking out the door. You try to follow his command but you're not used to these shoes, and he's walking too fast. You stumble over your own shoelaces, and he doesn't even stop or slow down. You hang by your wrist and he just pulls you along, your shoes and ankles dragging on the ground.
He takes you back to the room where I first woke up.
This can't be good.
As you're being dragged to the table with a creepy skull machine behind it, you see the observatory room above, separated by a glass window. This time there's people there, watching you. You recognize the Sans skeleton and don't recognize the yellow lizard next to him.
Noir skeleton lifts you by the wrist and onto the table. He pushes you down and you don't resist because you don't get that really bad things are about to happen. The same restraints get strapped to your limbs, a little tighter this time, maybe. The tall skeleton looms overhead but he's not looking at you, he's looking at your wrist, he's fiddling with your wrist, he has a needle. It pinpricks your wrist.
And then he's away, walking out of your view. The machine around you whirs unevenly. The skull-shaped head lowers down, moving to enclose you once again. Your eyes can't focus. The machine above becomes a black blur. Your eyes start to burn and your head feels muddled. The world is gone.
You can't see.
You can't think.
You're unconscious.
So why am I still here?
When I was human I used to have dreams. I saw my death so many times that it stopped bothering me. Dreams of falling, and falling. Of a killer's chase and their knife in my back. About storms and the apocalypse, where the whole world ended. But most commonly it was poison, because I knew that would be my end.
Like when your chest tightens and your breath hitches, caught in your throat. Your mouth opens like a fish begging for air, it doesn't matter how wide, because it's not enough. Wet tears run down your cheeks. Your chest hurts because it's so hot, it's burning, it's consuming your feet and your lungs and your head.
It hurts.
It doesn't hurt, not really.
In the moments of my dreams, I was so convinced that pain was real, I could feel the murderer's knife; I could feel the poison in my veins. It felt so real until I thought about it, because I knew it was a dream. Then it didn't feel like anything at all.
That's what this is like. It hurts until I think about it.
You're the opposite. I can feel your body lurch in pain, can feel the restraints strain against your involuntary reactions. But you have no mind to process what you feel. I have the mind but no pain to process.
But they still have no right to do this to you.
In my dreams, I can hear myself screaming.
Screaming.
"It hurts!"
And.
"Stop!"
But mainly, just some blood-curdling shrieks.
Oh wait.
It's not a dream, I can hear myself actually screaming, with your voice.
Your pain stops. I hear the machine above you being lifted. Your vision and your mind are still gone, but other senses remain. Boney hands frantically unstrap the restraints; it's not very precise because the hands are trembling.
"Sans! The readings are not complete. Don't overreact; a lifeless creation can't feel pain," Noir skeleton's voice sounds pissed.
"you can't be serious, doc. they were just screaming bloody murder!" He sounds right above you, the one freeing you. "what if the procedure worked and it's not just a doll anymore? the king's and queen's child could actually be in there, but just asleep most the time. they're not gonna be happy about you hurting their kid!"
…You freaks put me in here on purpose? As soon as I can control this thing, you're all dead.
"The readings placed trace amounts of the human's soul that still remain, but not on a level that has fully synchronized with the doll. And the determination levels are still unchecked. If we've made a mistake, we need to know what actually happened."
Greasy fingers slide under your back, and you're lifted bridal style.
"Put the doll back, Sans," Noir growls. "We're not finished."
"we'll find another way to figure out what happened. just give me time." You're being carried, to somewhere.
"How much time." It's not a question.
"a few days. a week." Sans sounds like he's begging and clearly doesn't know the answer himself.
So that's it, then.
You're not a monster or human. They made you to house a human soul. My soul. But they don't understand the power of a human soul. Something with us didn't go as expected, because you and I exist at the same time. For both of our sakes, I think it's best if you do what I tell you.
Ah. I suppose the plan would be better if you could hear me. For now, your life rests in the short skeleton's hands.