Chapter 20

Everything hurt. Her skin was on fire. Her joints had blades stuck in them. Her muscles were iron. Frisk waited for the sweet release of death to free her from this excruciating pain, but when it came, relief didn't last before she was alive again and suffered from the deathlust taking over her body.

For the first time in her life, Frisk realized how coming back from the dead was a curse.

She was stuck in the cycle of dying from poison only to come back to die again. It was the worst thing that could have happened to her. Now she was forced to endure this for all eternity, her very own personal Hell.

I want to die, was the only conscious thought Frisk had as she battled the poison in her system. I want to die and stay dead.

After countless deaths, the impossible happened.

Frisk died, and she didn't come back.


She was the only thing that existed in the void.

Yet she knew less about herself than she did about the void.

Who am I?

What am I?

When am I?

Where am I?

Why am I?

Try as she might, she couldn't recall anything. Even her own name was a mystery to her. It was only her, trapped in a sense of emptiness and loneliness deep rooted and painful in the likes she never before knew.

This is worse, she thought, not knowing what she compared to this isolation. Whatever came before, possibly. But what came before?

There was nothing to see. Not even black or darkness. There was nothing to hear, but the silence was deafening. She existed only in a state of pure, submerged nothingness.

Am I dead?

The question came from nowhere. The concept of dead confused her, but only for a minute. Understanding soon followed.

I am dead, she realized with an intense feeling of sadness. She felt hollow and even more alone than before. So, this is what it's like to be dead.

If she still had the capability to cry, tears would have begun flowing unrestrained down her cheeks. This can't be all that's left for me now. Her soundless words were sucked away into the void, shouted out loud but heard by nobody. I don't want to die.

Before long, that was all she thought. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. No words existed except those five.

Then the sense of feeling returned. Her skin was on fire. Her joints had blades stuck in them. Her muscles were iron. Instead of regretting any desire for life, she fought to take hold of what she never wanted to lose again.

I don't want to die, she thought, gritting her teeth through the pain. Determination swelled up inside her like a balloon, growing bigger and bigger every second as each breath made her stronger and stronger. I want to live.

As she fought, the pain grew intensely. Yet she didn't let that stop her as she crawled out of the void. She was going to live, and death was not going to hold her back.

It wasn't long before she began to recall who she was and what her life was like. My name is Frisk. I am the daughter of Toriel, the exiled queen of the Underground. I am a human in a monster world. Nothing, not even death, can stop me.

Frisk didn't know where the lines between life and death met. What she did know was she slowly but surely replaced one unbearable pain for another. Isolation for poison. Loneliness for fire. Death for life.

The friends she made flashed in her mind, each one being another reason to live.

Alice.

Mon.

Papyrus.

Beatrix.

Sans.

Chara.

A new pain, like a knife stabbing through her heart, ached inside Frisk's chest.

Chara.

She was going to live. Frisk was going to live, and nobody was going to stop her. Not while she had reasons to fight.

The physical pain grew worse, but Frisk did not back down. Nothing was going to stop her now that she knew what she wanted. More determined than she had ever been in her entire life and deaths, Frisk cried out as she gave one final push.

Then nothing.


Everything hurt, but this was a new kind of pain. This didn't feel like an ongoing battle. What Frisk felt seemed to be nothing more than phantom pain, what lingered after the war had been fought.

Opening her eyes, Frisk grimaced as she pushed through the pain in her body to sit up. The room was not familiar. The monster by her bedside was.

"Alice," Frisk whispered, taking in the sleeping rabbit-monster.

Alice rested her chin on her palm and her elbow on the arm rest of the chair. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was steady. The clothes she wore were rumpled as if she had been wearing them for days straight.

Even as her body protested, Frisk moved herself to a sitting position. Her thigh hurt worst of all. Slowly, she pulled back the covers. The shorts she wore revealed bandages over where she had been cut. Blood stained the gauze. If she were to take off the bandage, Frisk didn't doubt the cut where the deathlust entered her system would be an ugly, unsightly wound.

The next thing she noticed was how thin her legs were. Her knees were not supposed to be this knobby. She observed her hands, the color draining from her face when she saw how skeletal they were. Forcing herself, Frisk ran her fingers down her face and over her body. It felt as if she was nothing more than skin and bones.

How long have I been out?

"Frisk?"

Said girl looked at Alice to see the monster observing her. "Alice," Frisk returned, her voice cracking.

As if she was afraid Frisk would break if she wasn't careful, Alice reached out and placed a hand on Frisk's forehead. When she pulled away, she let out a heavy exhale. Her stiff posture relaxed.

"What happened?" Frisk asked, trying with little success to recall the last thing she remembered.

Alice was slow to answer. She was most likely trying to be as gentle as possible as she told the sickly Frisk what happened to result in this.

"You were cut," Alice finally said. "The blade was coated in deathlust. I think you know deathlust has its name for a reason."

"Nobody ever survives deathlust," Frisk whispered, recalling vividly how Toriel died by the very same poison.

"Except you," Alice softly pointed out. "Frisk, you have to be the first person ever to have deathlust enter your system and live."

Not having a response to that, Frisk asked, "How long have I been out?"

It was apparent Alice didn't want to answer. "Ten days."

"What about the others? Did . . . did they make it out of Snowdin Two alive?"

Frisk didn't know it was possible for Alice's ears to droop even more. "Not everyone made it out. However, we are still fortunate. After Mom, Peter, and Doge went after you, they fought the leader until she called a retreat."

The cat-monster's face flashed in Frisk's mind.

"She killed my mom," Frisk said so softly she almost didn't hear herself speak. "That Red . . . She killed my mom."

"Oh, Frisk," Alice reached out and took Frisk's hand in hers, "I'm so sorry."

There was nothing for Frisk to say to that. She only held onto Alice's hand, gripping the furry fingers like a lifeline. When Frisk was finally able to work up the courage, she asked, "What about Sans and Papyrus?"

"Alive and well," Alice answered, squeezing Frisk's hand. "They got in, broke out Undyne, and made it back all in one piece. The twins are here with us."

Frisk wanted to know where "here" was, but instead she found herself asking, "And Undyne?"

"Locked away," Alice answered. "She's not hurt or anything, but we're not sure if we can trust her. Frisk, it's weird that you would ask for her to be saved. None of us are sure what she would do if we let her run free."

Not having a response, Frisk merely shrugged. She was tired. Oh so tired. There possibly couldn't have been much strength left in her body. She lied back down, too weak to hold herself up much longer.

Understanding, Alice said, "Get plenty of rest. We'll try to have something for you to eat when you wake up. It could be days before you're able to get out of bed, so please don't push yourself."

"I won't," Frisk promised, her eyelids too heavy for her to hold up anymore.

As she began falling under, Alice slipped something into Frisk's hand. After the soft sound of a closing door indicated that Alice had left the room, Frisk forced one eye to crack open. The red heart locket rested on her palm.

Relief overwhelmed her. With the concern no longer on her mind, Frisk let herself drift away. A smile was on her face as she fell asleep.


Breaking Undyne out of the royal dungeon was not as exciting as one might expect it would have been. All Sans and Papyrus had to do was teleport into her cell, talk her into coming with them – the task being very easy since Undyne's options literally were either go with the brothers or die, and teleport back out. By the time anyone noticed Undyne was missing, the three were already long gone.

It was the two weeks that followed Sans found difficult.

Frisk spent days battling the effects of deathlust, struggling even with the help of Beatrix's healing magic. Days. Most people died within minutes no matter how many monsters with healing magic tended to them.

Except Frisk wasn't most people.

She was human. Although humans were magicless, they still had something monsters could never have. Determination. The determination to live, to fight the very poison no one before could ever hope to survive, was what kept her alive. It wasn't her being human alone that saved her from death, but her sheer will to fight deathlust and her determination to survive it.

In a way, it was admirable.

Yet in another, Sans felt uneasy.

For the longest time, possibly a month's worth if Sans stopped to count it, the days would keep resetting. Nobody else knew, of course. Yet Sans knew, and he didn't like what this could possibly mean.

"You never came to visit."

Sans looked up from his drink and focused his attention on the doorway. He sat alone in the kitchen, the others long since having retired for the night. Nobody else was supposed to be here, especially her.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Sans asked as Frisk trudged into the room and struggled to sit on the stool next to him.

"I've been bedridden for two weeks," Frisk answered as she refused to meet Sans in the eyes. "Let me stretch my legs while nobody's around to force me back to bed."

Instead of answering, Sans studied her. Frisk looked more skeleton than human, something Papyrus said confirmed his theory that humans were descended from skeletons. Gone was her rich brown skin, her complexion so deathly white she looked almost like a ghost. Her already oversized shirt, which Beatrix changed Frisk into when the dying human was first brought to the hideout, fit like a pillowcase on her skinny body. Sans didn't know a lot about humans, but he did know they weren't supposed to look anything like this.

"Papyrus visited," Frisk began, counting the names on her fingers. "Mon visited. Beatrix visited. So did Peter and Doge. Alice hardly ever left my side. Even monsters I don't know so well stopped by to check up on me. Everyone but you."

Sans heard the silent "Why?" attached at the end.

"I didn't think you would want to see me." Sans picked up his glass to drain it, but his arm froze with his drink just an inch from his face. He set it back down. "I have proven myself to be untrustworthy, and that kind of betrayal isn't something a simple 'sorry' can fix."

"Yes, but it does help to say 'sorry' in the first place." Sans looked at Frisk. She studied him with her large brown eyes. No judgement was visible in them. "You didn't do anything you didn't already say you were going to do. You made it clear from the start that you were only going to watch out for me so far. I'm the one who pushed that boundary."

"So you're not upset?" Sans asked, not knowing why he did.

"No, I'm still upset at you," Frisk answered, "but you listened to my pleas to save Undyne when you had every reason not to. I can't fault you for that much."

Now Sans drained his drink.

"I don't know what you plan for us to do to that fish," he told her. "Nobody here trusts her, and it's not as if she's sworn loyalty to the Blues either."

"Neither have you," Frisk pointed out. "You're still wearing red."

"Maybe it's because I look better in red than I do in blue."

Frisk narrowed her eyes, her only indication that she didn't believe him.

Waving a hand in the air, Sans merely said, "Think what you want. I don't care. But I'm not going to give away your hiding place, if that's what you're worried about."

"That never crossed my mind," Frisk replied, and Sans believed her.

Knowing he had to say it sooner or later, Sans finally let the words fall out. "I'm sorry." He didn't say what for. Frisk knew what he was apologizing for, and he was not going to say the words aloud even if she didn't.

"I forgive you," Frisk replied, speaking the words as if this was something she had decided a long time ago. Perhaps he had her forgiveness even if he never apologized, but Frisk was right to mention that it did help to say sorry.

"Now what?" Sans asked, studying Frisk from the corner of his eye socket.

"Find a goal, strategize, and try to reach that goal," Frisk answered.

"If only it was that easy."

"I think that depends on the goal we all decide for ourselves." With a sigh, Frisk wiggled off the stool and stood on her shaky feet again. "I'm going to bed. We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Sans only half faked amusement. "We do?"

"We have to figure out what we're going to do sooner or later, and I think we've waited long enough already." Frisk began walking away. "Good night, Sans."

For half a moment, Sans debated requesting she wait. He had a theory, and he wanted to test it out. Yet as he saw her tremble through her walking motion, he decided to wait for a more opportune time. What just happened was the first step in restoring their relationship, whatever it was. No sense in ruining it right away.

So, as coolly as he could make himself sound, Sans simply replied to the retreating human, "Good night, Frisk."


While she talked to Sans, Frisk did not wear the locket. Yet after she claimed to be going to bed and left the skeleton to his own devices, Frisk put the locket back around her neck. She would want Chara's company for this.

When she woke up sometime after Alice put the locket in her palm, Frisk wore it to see Chara again. He took one look at her and knew something really bad had happened to her after the locket fell off the Red, whose name Chara supplied to be Mew Mew. Struggling to remember all the details, Frisk told him about being cut by the blade coated in poison and how she had died many, many times because of deathlust.

Slowly, Frisk recounted dying and staying dead. How truly terrible death was, how isolated and empty it felt. She shivered as she recalled those intense feelings, and Chara actually looked horrified as Frisk told him what death was really like.

She then told him about how she realized she didn't want to die and her determination to live. Fingers curled into fists, Frisk told him about her battle as well as she could. It was difficult telling someone about an experience no words could ever accurately describe.

The whole time she told Chara all this, he nodded to show he was listening. He had no comments, even after Frisk finished telling him everything. Maybe there was nothing he could say to respond so he didn't bother trying.

After that, things were different between them. Frisk didn't know what had changed, but something did. It was like walking into a room and knowing one thing or another was off but not being able to figure out what.

"The coast is clear," Chara, who had walked ahead, informed Frisk as he came back. "Are you sure you really want to do this, Stripes?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Frisk replied, walking on shaky legs as she made her way through the tunnel. She had to do this now before she lost her nerve, and before anyone else knew what she was doing.

"I honestly cannot decide if this is the bravest thing you have ever done or the stupidest," Chara said as they walked side-by-side through the darkness.

"The stupidest," Frisk didn't hesitate to reply, "but I'm not backing down. I've thought long and hard about it. This is what I want."

"Are you sure she is going to agree?"

"Of course not, but I won't know for sure unless I ask."

As they got closer to their destination, Frisk heard what sounded like a ball being thrown against a wall repeatedly. It appeared she and Sans weren't the only ones who couldn't sleep. She hoped the latter wouldn't get wise and decide to come down here.

"Well, well, well," a voice growled as Frisk came into sight. "Look who's here. I didn't think I would be seeing you ever again."

"That makes two of us." Frisk knelt down so she could make direct eye contact with the prisoner. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Undyne barked a laugh. "You want to ask me for a favor? Look who you're talking to, human. Do you really think I would do anything for you?"

"No," Frisk admitted, "but I was the one who insisted Sans and Papyrus save your life, so you do kind of owe me."

"Do not say 'kind of,'" Chara gently corrected. "Talk as if she is indebted to you. Make her believe she has no other choice but to repay you for your mercy."

"You owe me," Frisk said, taking Chara's advice to heart. "You have your life, now help me get something in return."

Smirking, Undyne asked, "What do you want that I can give you?"

"More than you realize," Frisk answered. "Mew Mew killed my mom. I want revenge."

Undyne did nothing to hide her peaked curiosity. "So, are you asking me to kill Mew Mew?"

"No." Frisk clutched the prison bars so tightly her knuckles turned ash white. "I want to kill Mew Mew. You're going to be the one to train me to do it."


End of Part One