Frisk sniffed loudly, as large tears streamed down their face. Covered in blood, cuts, and bruises, they slowly walked towards the towering mountain.
The sound of distant laughter was there, as it always has been for years.
It wasn't like anyone would care if they died. It's not like anyone would even miss them. Cry, think of them, grieve.
They had heard many stories, rumors even, about Mt. Ebott. That anyone who fell down there never was seen again.
The sound of a place where nobody was there, nobody to inflict physical, or mental pain on them, sounded amazing.
Slowly inching closer to the mountain, they started thinking of the things they would miss.
Frisk shook their head, face red, and eyes dull.
Suddenly at the last second they regretted ever heading towards the intimidating place, as they tripped and fell, awaiting their doom, closer to them than ever before.
Fate had their soul ready to break at it's fingertips, welcoming them with open arms into the afterlife.
But they refused.
Frisk's eyes flew open wide, sitting up straight, taking in their surroundings. Looking down where they had landed, which was on a fairly large patch of wilting golden flowers.
They slowly got up, wincing at their closed up, but fresh wounds. They didn't know whether it was from their fall, or from their daily torture. It really didn't matter to them anyways.
Frisk started walking ahead of them, squinting their eyes trying to adjust them to the darkness. They stuck their hands out in front of them, feeling for anything, coming across what felt like an entrance to somewhere.
With their eyes, slowly getting adjusted, they could see that the entrance was a doorway with no door.
Inching into the next room, cautiously, yet ready for almost anything. What they saw was a bigger golden flower, one that was alive this time. Closing their eyes, braced for whatever pain the flower would put them in.
"Is someone there?..." Frisk heard a small voice call out to them, close by.
Opening their eyes, and looking up, they saw the flower look at them, curiously, but with fear in it's eyes. It was wilting, just like the others, except it mostly looked sad.
They stepped forward a couple steps, watching the flower flinch away as they got closer to it.
"P-please don't hurt me…" The small flower backed away when Frisk came nearer to it.
Not knowing any other way of communication besides sign language, or writing, they shook their head, and got down on their knees and patted the flower on the head.
"I-" The flower soon calmed down. "I'm Flowey. Flowey the flower. Who are you?"
Frisk opened their mouth, pointed to the inside of it, and then shook their head.
"Can you… not talk?" Flowey tilted his head.
Frisk nodded, suddenly having an idea.
Taking their finger, they sat down next to Flowey, and wrote 'Frisk' in the dirt covering the hard rocky cave-like place they were in.
"Frisk, huh? That's a nice name. You're being too nice. That's unusual…" He hesitated, deep in thought.
"You know, maybe you can head to where she is. Maybe you can bring your unusual company with you, and make her smile. I think she would like that." Flowey gestured towards another large entrance, this time a more purple colored one. It looked welcoming, except for the vines growing around it.
They got up then, walking towards the purple entrance.