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Kris awoke with a start, a whisper of a familiar dream fading with the cacophonous roar of thunder. The power was out. Finding the weather to be sub-optimal conditions for a kid trying to have a good nights sleep, they rose from the bed. Their hair twisted upwards on one side and matted on the other, they slid their legs sideways and lowered their feet silently to the carpeted floor.
Upon contacting the carpet and lifting the covers fully, a chill crawled up their spine. It was too cold. Toriel, despite being covered in fur, always kept the house toasty. It was also the middle of summer, the temperature never dipped below 60.
They felt the stiff material of the carpet, normally soft and plush, scratch against their soles as they slowly shuffled foward. The design printed upon it seemed to glow with an eerie light, in defiance of the darkness it was surrounded by. A creak set Kris' heart nearly up and out of their chest, they jerked their head in its direction and saw the rusted cage, door slightly ajar, sitting ominously upon its wagon. It sat empty and abandoned and Kris had a feeling that if objects could speak, it would be begging them to go back to bed. However, Kris wasn't swayed, they ignored the imaginary plea and proceeded out the door in search of the mother they knew would hold them in a warm embrace until they drifted off.
Kris regretted that decision the moment they stepped through the partition, the hallway was even colder and a sickly hum filled their mind. Despite the cold, they were sweating and clammy, though they felt no nausea to indicate a fever. Kris stood in the center of the hallway apprehensively, Toriel would surely take them in and sing them to sleep, so why did they still feel apprehension prickle at them unnervingly?
They shook off the thought and proceeded forward, years of hiding in plain sight at school taught Kris how to step silently and listen carefully, so as they stepped down the hall they managed to pick up a quiet bump emanating from the kitchen downstairs. Of course, Toriel woke up when they did and was now getting candles to see by. That made perfect sense, and when they cracked open the door to her room this was confirmed by an empty bed with the sheets neatly set and folded back. Kris slowly closed the door and turned to head back down the hall towards the stairs.
Something was there.
Kris' heart pulsed in their chest while the thing at the end of the hall shifted and twitched. It was impossible to make out with the only light source being the moonlight streaking in from the windows and Kris felt as if they were back down below for the first time, watching in petrified fear as the silhouette of lancer pulled spades from the air around him and sent them hurtling down.
Perhaps the being attacking them would have been a relief, at least then they would know what they were up against. However, in the blink of an eye the form was gone, revealing behind it the old picture of their family when it was whole, one of the few pictures of Asgore, that Toriel allowed in their home, stating that Asriel and Kris looked far too cute for it to be removed. Kris couldn't say they agreed as the red eyes on the wall bored into them accusingly.
At this point Kris was ready to give it up, run back to bed, dive under the covers and hope that whatever was in the house wouldn't be able to get past the protective cotton layer. Yet, as they were turning back a thought flitted through their mind, Susie wouldn't cower from a ghost. She would face it head on and punch it in the nose to establish dominance, then she would run down the stairs to make sure her mother was alright and not in the clutches of some cruel demon! Thats right, if there was something in the house and that wasn't just the shadows playing tricks, then Kris needed to be brave like Susie.
That was enough to sway Kris and they spun around with a decisive stomp of their foot, though being barefoot and without big heavy boots like Susie, all that echoed through the hall was a measly 'pap'. Regardless, Kris trundled forward resolutely, ignoring the family photo and walking right up to the stairs where the form was previously. They had seen enough ghostbusters to know that the lack of slime on the wall ruled out the possibility of it being a ghost, so either it was an illusion created by their overactive imagination, or the thing had turned invisible and was somewhere in the area.
Maintaining poise, though their hands shook a bit, Kris clamped down on the star railing. The sweat of their palms squeaked a bit as they took the steps slowly, reaching down to test each individual step with a toe, as if expecting it to be an illusion above an endless pit. Kris reached the bottom without incident and relief flooded through them as the sound of Toriel opening the fridge door greeted them. They ran to the partition and spun around it excitedly, fully prepared to embrace the softest and bestest mother on the planet.
The kitchen was empty and just as cold as the hall, the moon cast blue whisps of light in random directions and the living room was completely shrouded in darkness.
Chris stumbled to a stop, face pale and all confidence drained. Toriel would not have left the house without them, something is very wrong. Kris shakily gathered themselves, wishing with all their might that the cellphone was in their pocket and not sitting on the dresser in their room. Their eyes drifted to the phone sitting in its cradle on the wall, all the way across the kitchen and right at the edge of the unnatural blackness in the living room. It was either back all the way to their room or forward to the landline.
Chris took a tentative step forward, then another, using every ounce of stealth they could muster. At the fridge, they felt a waft of icy air and the shock of their toes meeting a cold liquid, the fridge door was ajar and something had been spilled. Kris moved past it, ignoring the prickle that developed at the back of their neck and shuffling forward through the puddle a little faster. Only a few feet now, five or six, then they could call mom or dad or susie or the police or anyone who could take this terrifying loneliness away. Three feet, the wind outside picked up and the low hum in the back of their mind became louder as well, turning into a static filled moan as the darkness of the living room filled more and more of their vision. One foot, and the drone was as loud as the blood pumping through their ears, the static almost tangible as Kris reached up to place their hand on the receiver. Just as flesh touched plastic, everything stopped, like the static in their head was pulled into the grounding wire of the telphone. Kris breathed out a long breath they just now realized they were holding in.
Then they realized that the power was out.
The phone is dead anyway.
And the thing was there, in the pitch black of the living room, five feet away.
Two pinpoints of light, like stars, were focused directly on them. Kris was frozen, they almost felt dead from fear itself, their heartbeat had stopped and the hum that had been so loud in their head before had vanished completely. Both eyes focused solely on each other, one pair cold and bright, the others puffy and red. The standoff seemed to last for an eternity.
A voice broke the silence "whats the matter kiddo? aren't you gonna greet an old friend?"
With a start Kris realized they knew exactly who this is, the shopkeep, Sans. Whenever Kris and Susie would stop by to use Kris' allowance for snacks, he would tell them jokes and give them stuff "on the house". He seemed pretty cool, if a little obnoxious. However, though Kris was relieved to find someone they knew in the house, Sans' presence and Toriels absence sent warning flags through their mind. Kris remained with one hand up to the phone and one leg awkwardly lifted, ready to run at a moments notice. Sans chuckled, though his eyes, the only visible part of him, remained eerily still. "I doubt that phone will do much for ya, unless you were gonna use it to defend yourself against the weirdo in your house. In which case I better watch myself, I could receiv-er a skele-ton of damage with that."
Kris remained still, fingers twitching. Despite the lighthearted tone sans was using, the air was filled with tension and the heart that had previously stopped beating in their chest was now hammering away faster than Kris thought even possible. Sans finally moved, stepping closer, though it was more like gliding with how little the eyes swayed. Instinctively, Kris stepped back and decided that maybe keeping him talking would be a good way to distract him long enough for help to arrive. Kris opened their mouth and spoke, voice rough and low, warbling as fear pulled tension into the untrained muscles. "W-wheres my mom?" The eyes shifted seemingly in surprise, though Kris was unsure as to why.
Sans recovered quickly "Toriel? Well, I imagine shes snuggled up in bed like you should be." Kris felt pinpricks at the corner of their eyes and attempted to will away the tears that were threatening to flow. They squared their shoulders and raised their voice "She's not here, where is she?"
Kris realized their mistake too late as Sans' eyes blinked out of existence and a hollow grating voice slithered out of the darkness "Not here, huh? Thats hilarious." Suddenly Kris felt their soul jerk and pull them along with it, they tried to scream but the air escaped in a strangled wheeze. they were pulled further into darkness, their hands tearing at the wall, feet skidding and backpedalling. Sans' previously hidden form slowly revealed itself, the big jacket, white skull with grinning teeth, fuzzy slippers, were all present, but something was off. His grin was pulled tight, lifted further than normal, and black liquid seemed to pool within gaping eye sockets.
Upon being wrenched free from any handholds available, Kris went limp, allowing themselves to be pulled towards the waiting skeleton as tears began bubbling out and a small whimper escaped their lips. The pulling stopped as Sans reached forward and clasped his fingers around their throat, his face looming , grinning down at their terrified one. His voice echoed painfully through their head "Whats with the waterworks, kid? Your pals are here for you now. Despite everything, were still us." His cold bones dug into Kris' neck and squeezed harder "I brought you a friend, turn around and look." Kris was extremely tempted to run straight for the door behind Sans but the pulling sensation returned and they were forced to look, through teary eyes...
right at the fridge.
For a moment nothing happened and Kris had the desperate hope that this was some elaborate and cruel prank staged by Sans. The thought was crushed when the fridge began slowly creaking open, the hinges far more rusted than they should be. As much as Kris wanted to close their eyes, they had a feeling that they knew what was in there, the missing piece that had been shadowing them their whole lives. The horror of betrayal and guilt seeped into them from an unknown source, as if their subconscious was desperately trying to tie together the frayed strands of unravelled memories.
The door stopped partially open, still closed enough to obscure the interior but open enough for something to exit.
Something small, like a child.
the world waited, time frozen.
A hand wrapped around the edge of the door, then a foot descended slowly out from underneath it. Both limbs small and thin, bones poking from under the skin. a child's head peeked out, eyes obscured by darkness underneath straight bangs. The child stepped out fully, brown hair, papery thin skin, limbs disjointed and hanging oddly, expression blank, loose fitting shorts and a baggy purple striped sweater. Kris let out a sob and would have collapsed if their soul let them, the guilt tearing at their psyche like a knife. Sans spoke up behind them "monsters are weak in a lot of ways, but there is one positive that almost no one realizes." He shifted behind them and Kris felt a bony hand rest atop their head. "We can be pulled through time and reality, torn apart, put back together, with relatively no problems. Were just dust and magic after all." Frisk swayed in front of them, shaking as if seizing only to stand ramrod straight moments later, their breathing was audible and labored. "Humans, on the other hand, are much more complicated. They are made of stuff that when pulled apart, is really hard to get back together again. Sometimes its even impossible." Kris watched in horror as Frisk took a slow unsteady step towards them, their balance was off and Kris could see a trail of blood trickling from their nose. "Yep, I'm pretty glad I'm a monster, cause being torn apart is bad enough, but being put back together wrong, well thats a fate worse than death."
Frisk was now in front of them, up close the body was a mess, the eyes sunken in, cheeks pulled taught, shoulder blades clearly visible along the neckline, the breathing ragged and rattling. They truly looked like someone had made an imperfect copy, a mockery of something once whole. Kris nearly lost their balance as gravity was suddenly restored, they hit the ground and remained frozen, staring into the ghostly husk they once cared deeply for. Frisk stood there, swaying with the rhythm of their audibly labored breaths. Slowly, their arms raised, higher and higher, reaching forwards with bony fingers. Kris watched, frozen, as the arms clasped around them, tighter and tighter. Frisk shifted forward and shakily lowered their head, cheek resting across Kris' shoulder.
Kris screamed, an anguished wail filled the air as, once again, their best friend forgave them for everything they didn't deserve.
The night was warm and calm as Toriel silently opened the front door, anxious to ensure that her child was alright in spite of her absence. Her secret nightly trips to the home of the skeleton were deliciously precarious and could cause quite a scandal if word got out, but she couldn't help feeling a little thrill akin to her days in college as she would dart through back alleys to avoid prying eyes. Upon entering the home, she pulled out the flashlight in her purse and swept it across the room, its beam landed on a wet spot on the floor and trailing up, washed over the fridge sitting slightly ajar. A pang of guilt passed through her as she realized Kris had probably woken up in the night. Fortunately, they most likely had seen the note on the fridge door she had left just in case and it appeared that they had gotten something (most likely pie) to sate themselves in her absence.
Toriel quietly moved to the staircase and began climbing it, her paws causing slight creaking as her weight settled onto each step. At the top of the stairs she turned into the hall, and stopped.
A figure stood at the end of the corridor, it twitched and swayed and seemed to be on the verge of collapse. Toriel, realizing that Kris must be sleep walking again, sighed as she crept forward, mindful not to wake them. As she approached the small hunched form, she also realized that they were moaning softly and breathing raggedly, actions she had never seen them take when sleep walking previously. As Toriel placed her hand on their should she discovered that they were cold and soaking wet, water droplets beating out a light rhythm into the floorboards. How odd it was that they would be fully dressed at a time like this, and in a strange purple sweater too.