Reminder: This fic and its AU, The Shattering, has a dedicated Discord server. Check it out if you want to talk speculations or theories, alongside hints, teasers, and sneak peeks of future chapters and/or stories, and even the occasional artwork.
Link: /smnqqVTZyB

*CHAPTER UPDATED*

18/10/2023

The Ruins Part 4

Unfortunately, the interior of the monster's home proved to be much more disappointing than the exterior. Like the tunnels, it was very dark and dingy. Frisk saw that the wallpapers looked old and lifeless, with some tearing off or falling into rot. There were cobwebs at almost every corner, and the wooden floor creaked uncomfortably with every step. There were even missing planks, seemingly ripped out, in the hallway floor, replaced with dark holes and pits.

The few pieces of furniture in the house, while dusty and unclean, looked the most competently made things so far. But they also looked dull and colourless and were nothing you'd be surprised to find in an ordinary home. They were mundane things like cupboards in the hallway and tables and chairs in the living room. The only extraordinary thing of note was the potted sunflower that the monster kept calling his "son", now placed on one of the two sofa chairs in the living room rather than on a solid surface like a cupboard or a windowsill like any sensible person would put it.

To make up for the darkness, dozens of candles were throughout the hallway, which the monster promptly lighted using his fingers. It gave some desperately needed illumination but also highlighted the issues of the home.

"Now then, how do you like it?" the creature asked as they stood in the living room.

Frisk stayed quiet for a few seconds before she answered. She didn't want to upset him, but it proved difficult to hide her disappointment.

"Well, it uh… looks alright, I guess," she said.

Then she saw the smile starting to wane of the creature's muzzle.

"Bu-but with some small changes and a bit of hard work," she hastily added. "This place could become something special, I think. Y-yeah, I'm positive."

The creature's smile returned.

"Well, good to hear," he said. "Well, I'll be in the kitchen then. Do you like pies?"

Frisk frowned due to the randomness of that question.

"Uh, yeah," she said. "Yeah, I like pies."

"What kind?"

"Umm, all kinds, I guess? I've rarely had one, to be honest, so I guess I'm open to anything."

The creature became thoughtful for a moment.

"Do you like…" he began after a while. "Cinnamon or butterscotch, perhaps?"

"Uh yeah," replied Frisk. "Cinnamon or butterscotch sounds good."

"Ok, which one do you prefer? Should the pie be made of cinnamon or butterscotch? Maybe a bit of both?"

"Both sounds good."

"Well, then it's decided."

A smile widened on the monster's muzzle.

"Well, I'll be in the kitchen then," he said.

Before he entered the kitchen, he conjured a fire on the fireplace in the living room, and the sofas and table brightened up with an orange hue, like from an evening sun.

Once he was in, Frisk heard sounds like rumbling through cupboards and a soft hiss of gas.

There is a working oven in a place like this? she thought. Why the hell is that the most shocking thing to me?

"Now, I honestly don't think I'll live up to my wife's cooking!" the creature yelled from the kitchen. "But I'll try my hardest, at least! Make yourself at home in the meantime! Look around the house or play in the garden! Or do whatever kids fancy these days! Maybe you can even bond with my boy over there! He doesn't have many friends, especially not around his age! Either way, I'll call you both when it's ready, ok?"

"Not a kid, but ok!" Frisk yelled back.

She sat on the chair, not occupied by the flower pot. The chair's springs creaked ominously as she sat. The chair was warm, thanks to the flaming fireplace. She looked around the interior, noticing it no longer felt as bad as it did with the first impressions.

At least it's not the freaking hallways, she thought.

Frisk turned to the sunflower that "sat" on the sofa chair opposite her. The orange flames from the fireplace returned the familiar yellow colour and light to the flower.

Out of everything, this flower puzzled Frisk the most about the monster. Most likely, it being the monster's son was just a delusion on his part, possibly brought out by the immense loneliness of these ruins. But why this flower in particular? Out of all the sunflowers at The Ruin's entrance? Nothing about it seemed to stand out from the others. Maybe it was already put into a pot when the monster found it? That conceivably could've added some "significance" in the creature's mind.

Or perhaps, as crazy as it would sound… this flower really is his son. She never would've entertained that thought earlier this day. But then why would he be a flower while the creature resembled a mammal? Maybe, as Frisk began to hypothesise, his son was cursed and transformed by a witch or the like. Maybe monster creatures sometimes give birth to sunflowers, or monsters like him start as flowers until they grow into something else, like caterpillars to butterflies or tadpoles to frogs? Could it then be that the dozens of sunflowers she landed on earlier were also children? If that were the case, were they sentient? Frisk recalled her rough landing and thus shuddered at the possibility. Either way, is this singular sunflower in the chair sentient?

Frisk kept staring into the flower and began to notice details in the leaves and the pistil. Suddenly, as she examined, a strange sensation crept up from the back of her head. She didn't know why, but staring at this flower slowly filled her with dread. Then, following that, a touch of… sadness? Frisk peered closer. There was something unusual about it, she was sure now. Then she felt something else. Frisk found it hard to fathom at first, but then she realised it was as if the flower was calling to her-

"Hey, Frisk!" the monster yelled from the kitchen. "I just realised I'm out of butterscotch, and it's too late to run to the store! I am dreadfully sorry, but do you mind if I skip the butterscotch and just bake a cinnamon pie?"

The sudden disruption of the eerie quietness pulled Frisk back to her immediate surroundings.

"Uhh, that's fine!" she yelled. "Cinnamon pie is ok?"

"Ok, good to know!"

She looked back at the flower and no longer saw anything of note. She could scarcely think about why it hypnotised her so.

It's just a dumb flower, she thought and stood up.

She went to examine a nearby bookcase. Frisk sighed in boredom, which she still considered a somewhat upgrade from earlier. Sadly, the few books in the bookcase were either mysteriously burnt up, illegible, or in a language thoroughly alien to her. The only exception was a dull, old book that was nothing but a study of snails. The disappointment felt immeasurable to Frisk, as she now dearly wanted to learn more about monsters and the history of this strange new lifeform.

She checked her phone. There was still no internet connection, as she suspected.

Frisk left the living room, putting the phone back, to explore the rest of the house. There were three other doors in the hallway and a staircase that led down to what looked like a basement. Frisk didn't feel brave enough to check that just yet.

She carefully crept down the hallway as she felt the creaking floor could crack open new pits with any step, and also because she didn't want to step into any of the holes formed by the missing planks.

The first two doors in the hall turned out to be shut tight, so Frisk expected the third and last one to be another disappointment. Fortunately, this door was open.

"Third time's the charm," she said out loud and wandered in.

The monster had evidently not been in this room for some time. Or, at least not since Frisk and he got to this house, judging by the fact no candles were there, making it pitch black. Not one to let much get in the way of her desperate curiosity, Frisk picked up her phone, turned on the flashlight and shone it around. It appeared to be a bedroom possibly belonging to the creature judging by the massive bed to the right and the immense desk with a singular drawer to her left. There was also a large bookcase, which unfortunately proved to be empty.

Frisk shone her light on the desk, where something was on top that instantly caught her attention. She thought it was a painting canvas at first. Then Frisk looked closer. It was a handmade map, most likely drawn by the monster. Judging by the labyrinthian structure of the pathways and buildings, this was a map of the ruins. Frisk became almost overjoyed by this discovery.

This map is it! she thought. It could be the key to getting me home. I should probably tell the monster guy first. I'm starting to feel bad for him.

Unable to resist growing more curious, Frisk opened the desk's drawing, hoping to find something else to her interest, which she did.

It was a diary book, which, to Frisk, appeared to have been used a lot, judging by how little dust covered it. It was perhaps the only object in the room that didn't seem abandoned. Now the question remained: Open it and check it out, or not?

Frisk checked outside the door and down the hallway to see if the monster was coming. She saw no signs of life but distant burning candles. And so she sat down and began to peruse the diary, flipping gently to not, accidentally, tear it.

The first half of the pages stood removed. Whoever did it wasn't subtle or careful, or at least didn't care to be, judging by the fact dozens of ripped residues were left hanging inside, like torn in a rush.

Whatever content was left almost didn't prove much of interest. Most of the entries followed similar patterns, in which they started with some coherent, although a bit clumsy, sentences written in pitch-black ink. All the entries opened with "Nice day today", and then they went, in quick succession, into the same mostly mundane activities of waking up, eating breakfast, grooming the sunflower, and then just perusing around the ruins. Mostly uninteresting at first. Frisk figured she likely would have forgotten it quickly after putting it back if it wasn't for the fact that in almost every entry, the letters devolved more and more to incoherency until they shifted into chaotic squiggles like the author had a stroke or suddenly began to freak out. From the little that Frisk could read near the end of the entries, just before they became illegible, she could see that there were always mentions of the creature waiting for someone. As if it would say something like him hoping that "they" would appear today or that today would be a good day for "them" to appear. It wasn't ever clear whether the monster knew who or what he was waiting for.

The last entry was the only one that didn't turn undecipherable, but that was because it stood half-finished, most likely because it was for the day today. Even then, there were some signs of the writing getting worse and uneven by the last sentence.

With a sense of strange unease, Frisk carefully closed the small book and put it into the drawer that she then promptly closed. She went back out to the hallway and stared. There was only one place she hadn't checked yet, the downstairs. Frisk carefully crept down the hallway again and wondered how relatively little of the floor had broken so far, considering the owner must weigh a lot judging by his size and build.

Once Frisk had reached the staircase, she looked down it and immediately learned what had happened to those missing planks on the floor. At the bottom was a singular door, and for some strange reason, the door was boarded up and closed with planks as if to keep something in.

Or something out.

Strange still, the planks weren't nailed but kept up with dangling grey duct tape.

Either he doesn't own nails, Frisk thought. Or he's too unstable to operate them properly. And I'm not sure which one feels more likely.

"Ah, there you are, my child," the creature's voice spoke beside her.

Frisk felt a bit of shock and then looked towards his direction. He stood in the living room doorway and had dozens of white and brown stains on his robe.

"I couldn't find you where I last put you," he said. "I was afraid I might've left you in the ruins and thus needed to look through it. Ah, I'm glad there's no reason for that.

"Do you… not have an apron or something?" Frisk asked.

"Oh."

The creature looked down on his now unclean robe.

"Eh, it washes off," he said. "It always does. Oh, and by the way, I came to inform you that the pie is almost ready. It just needs a little while in the oven, and then it's good to go."

"Ok, I'll be right there," Frisk said, then looked back down the stairs.

The creature seemed to notice the way she examined it and smiled. It was a specific smile of remembrance. Like what he saw reminded him of someone who used to do the exact thing Frisk was currently doing.

"Curious about this door, my child?" he asked gently. "Heh, I would be as well if I were in your spot. But with all my heart, I advise that you never ever try to open it."

"Why?" asked Frisk. "What's down there?"

The creature went behind Frisk and put both his hands on her shoulders. The smile on his snout was gone.

"Down there..." he began, a stern tone in his voice. "Lay only the evilest things ever dreamt up from the dark, deep imaginations of the most wicked monsters. An amalgamation of yours and anyone's worst possible fears and nightmares made manifest. It's famine, war, death, chaos, disease, and more. Countless things the wicked soul can think of. I have seen countless friends, families, and children even, let their curiosity besten them and walk through there. None have returned."

Frisk stood still and listened. No sounds were coming behind that door.

"Can't hear anything," Frisk said.

"Ahh, that's the thing about evil," the creature said. "It's quiet, it's subtle. It grabs hold of you when you least expect it, and then, more often than not, it will be too late to do anything. You see, it wasn't this bad when we first arrived here. Heh, believe me. It was barely noticeable, in fact. I never would have made this my home if so. But through the years, it has grown, and then grown, even beyond my wildest fears. So I boarded it up, hoping that the tightness of the corridors would stop its growth and that no soul would ever again try to enter. However, I do shudder when I consider that my actions might turn out futile and that one day it will grow so large, it will burst through these barriers and swallow the world whole."

"Alright," said Frisk, trembling. "If it's so bad, why haven't you destroyed it."

"Destroyed it?" asked the goat creature, a smile on its muzzle. "Oh, my dear child. If only it were so simple."

Abruptly, the eerie atmosphere was interrupted by a sudden ding sound. A microwave had just finished baking something.

"Oh," the creature said. "That must be the pie. You know what? I think we should just forget about this door for the now and move our thoughts on filling our empty stomachs with some delicious pie, don't you think?"

"Uhh, yeah, that sounds great."

"Alrighty then."

And so the creature went to the kitchen while Frisk stayed behind and stared at the door for a good while. To say she was now scared of it would be an understatement. But Frisk kept staring and listening out of morbid curiosity, hoping to catch some stirs, creaking or anything that could give her a hint at what lay behind but felt nothing. She found the stillness somehow more frightening.

"Are you coming, Frisk?" the creature called from the kitchen. "You don't want your pie to get cold, do you?"

"Just a minute!" Frisk yelled back.

She left to the living room, but not before glancing at the door once more, trying her hardest not to think about it.

Author's note(Originally written 24th of March 2019)

So once again, here is another chapter that was originally one until it was split in two due to unexpected length. I am sorry if you find it too short or disappointing, but I promise you that in the next one a lot more development begins happening. Also, the next chapter is practically half finished so it will come pretty soon. It's also one of my favourite chapters so far, so that might hype things up a bit.

I don't have much else to say TBH. Just enjoy this fic, or not, and I hope you guys stick for the rest.