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Frisk shuddered in fright as they descended a flight of stairs down into the tight confines of the dungeon. Resting underneath the King’s castle in New Home, the dungeon housed some tens of monsters who were deemed “too dangerous” to interact with the rest of monster society.
Murderers, kidnappers, and treasonous monsters lurked in the cells…A sense of dread hung thick in the air. And to think, Frisk was almost sent down here on numerous occasions by the Royal Guard and Mettaton. The child went cold at the mere idea…
Or perhaps it was simply the frigid bite of the dungeon, piercing through Frisk’s sweater. As they ambled on through the darkness, Frisk wished they’d had the forethought to ask Papyrus for a flashlight and maybe a coat, before agreeing to descend into the scary chasm.
But it was too late to turn back now. Slowly and carefully, Frisk walked through the narrow passages, trying to reach the end of the labyrinth. They felt akin to a rat running blindly in a maze.
Earlier that day, Frisk had been hanging out with skeleton brothers. Papyrus invited them into the kitchen to help him make spaghetti. While mixing dough for Undyne’s ‘world-renowned garlic bread,’ the tall skeleton removed his signature red gloves… For the very first time, Frisk now realized.
However, even more striking than the sudden appearance of Papyrus’s bare, boney hands, was the metal plate attached to his right hand. Frisk, inquisitive as always, reached out to touch the metal plate. Their tiny child-sized hand barely made contact with the plate when Papyrus yelped and jerked his hand away.
“HUMAN! W-WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING THAT! LEAVE IT ALONE.” Papyrus shouted.
Frisk reeled back, shocked at the sudden outburst. Tears welled up at the corners of their eyes. Frisk bit their bottom lip, determined not to cry. They were too afraid they had hurt papyrus to cry! “Uh-uhm…I’m sorry.” They said softly, hanging their head.
“N-no! Human you don’t have to- aw I’m sorry for shouting at you it’s just, I…” Papyrus stammered, verbally tripping all over himself. He knelt down and gave Frisk a gentle pat on the head. Frisk perked up a little, flashing a gentle grin. “There now, the Great Papyrus hates to see anyone cry! Even humans!” He exclaimed. Frisk giggled. Satisfied that the human was properly comforted, Papyrus stood again. He turned his head, staring at the kitchen clock on the wall.
Frisk tilted their head, trying to get a glance at Papy’s face. His eyes were stark black…vacant and hollow. That look utterly confused and frightened Frisk. Especially since the only time they ever remembered seeing such a look was when Sans…never mind.
“Do you want to know what this thing is, human?” He asked out of the blue. Frisk nodded vigorously. Sighing, Papyrus raised his hand, so that the child could view it up close. “This,” he said, “Is my handplate…I got it a long time ago…not long after I came into the world.”
Papyrus ran one boney finger along the inside of the letters that were etched into the plate. Years of wearing it on his body had rounded the corners and smoothed the edges, as well as leaving it with a tarnished silver hue.
“What do those letters mean?” Frisk wondered aloud.
“These here,” he said pointing, “Stand for the name of the man who put this on me…W.D. Gaster.”
“And those?” Frisk pointed to the part below it.
“Oh, 2-P? yeah…before I became the Great Papyrus, that was my name.”
Frisk frowned, “That’s not a name…”
“Well of course it isn’t that’s why I named myself when I- “
“hey paps you in here?” Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by Sans. He sauntered into the kitchen, with his normal grin plastered on his face.
“Of course, Sans, it’s dinner time, where else would I be?” He asked incredulously. Sans noticed the strain in his voice, and the absence of his brother’s gloves.
“how come you’re not wearin’ your gloves bro? afraid to get stuff on ‘em?” He said. Frisk couldn’t tell from the tone of Sans’s voice, whether he was casually asking Papyrus a question, or interrogating him…
“B-because! I didn’t want to get the bread dough all over them! It’s a perfectly valid reason, Sans!” The shorter skeleton took that as his cue to back off. Frisk walked over towards Sans, hands in their overall pockets.
“Sans, do you have a handplate thingy like Papyrus?” The child asked.
In that instant, Sans’s face went blank. His normal smiling faced morphed into one of terror. Even his eyelights went out. “uh-uh errkkk…” He glanced at Papyrus, body shaking ever so slightly. A less tuned eye may not have noticed, but Frisk certainly did. “p-p-paps? d-did you show the kiddo your handplate?” Papyrus nodded yes. “wh-why though? those are private…” He said.
“W-well…it’s my secret to share if I so desire, brother. The human was curious, so I answered their questions.” Papyrus replied.
“you didn’t tell them about him, did you?”
Papyrus shook his head and waved his hands violently. Frisk almost got knocked in the head. “NO, NO! I DID NOT MENTION A CERTAIN DOCTOR WHO GAVE US OUR HANDPLATES! AND I MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT MENTION THE FACT THAT HE CREATED US IN AN EVIL SCIENCE HOUSE LIKE THE ONE ALPHYS LIVES IN CURRENTLY! I DID NEITHER OF THOSE THINGS!” Papyrus spurted out, yelling in monotone as he tended to do.
“yeah okay um…you kinda just said those things right in front of the kid, just now.” Sans said coolly. He stared at Frisk for a second, before letting out a long sigh. “listen frisk, you probably already knew this already, but papy and i aren’t exactly…normal y’know? we’re…different from other monsters…that’s why we gotta hide our handplates you see, so we can blend in better.”
“But how did you get them in the first place?” Asked Frisk. Sans balked at that question, paralyzed where he stood.
“W-well human, the answer to that question can be answered if you speak to the man himself.” Papyrus said, “And assuming he hasn’t died yet, Sans and I know exactly where he is.”
Frisk had been walking for quite some time now, as they recalled the conversation with Papyrus and Sans. They wondered exactly who this “Gaster” fellow was. All they knew was what the two skeletons had told them, and that was not much. Frisk morbidly wondered if this man was still alive, and what he looked like. Was a skeleton too? Or some vastly different type of monster?
Frisk rounded a corner and decided to call out to this mysterious person. “Hellooo?” the child cupped their hands around their mouth. The resulting echo resounded off the walls, haunting and bone-chilling. “Hellooo? Is there anyone here named Gaster?” Frisk called out. They didn’t expect an answer but kept calling out into the void anyway. “Helloooo?? Doctor Gaster?”
At the end of the hall, Frisk could make out the faint light of some sort of magic. The telltale glow lead them straight down to a cell, with all the walls made entirely out of stone, except for glowing beam in the front. Frisk crept nearer, afraid to touch the magic bars. They peered inside the small cell, seeing a dark figure curled up in the corner. “Hello? Are you Doctor Gaster?” The child asked.
As if struck by lightning, the figure bolted upright. His eyes went wild, scanning and blazing with magic. “Who are you?!” The figure said. His deep voice cracked, like he hadn’t spoken a word out loud in a very long time.
Frisk took a step back. “I’m Frisk…Papyrus sent me here to find you.” They said.
The figure rose from his place on the floor, slowly inching towards the magic beams. He couldn’t walk very well, his gait jerky and painful looking. “Who. Are. You?” He said again, enunciating on every syllable. “How are you here, you filthy human?” He snarled, face contorting in disgust.
Here in the light of the beams, Frisk could make out the man’s features. He looked very much like a skeleton…Like a combination of Sans and Papyrus’s best features rolled into one person. Except of course, for his drooping eye and the thin cracks running down each side of his skull. “A-are you a skeleton?” Frisk inquired.
The man scowled at them. “What do I look like? A rabbit? Of course, I’m goddamned skeleton.” He replied angrily. Frisk took a step back. “Are you afraid of me, human? You should be.” The figure stepped close to the beams, but not close enough to touch them. “If I wasn’t in here, I’d wring your puny human neck and hand you over to Asgore myself.”
“Well dude, the best have tried, but not even Undyne herself could capture me so…” Frisk bragged, while smugly brushing off their shoulder. The man rolled his eyes…somehow…since skeletons don’t have- never mind.
“And why are you looking for me? What do you want?” He asked.
“Papyrus and Sans sent me down here to find you.” Frisk repeated.
The man in the cell laughed suddenly. He stared at Frisk, with enough intensity the child could almost feel him peering into their SOUL. “So, that’s what they call themselves…interesting.” He muttered. “I’m not surprised…though it’s fascinating they picked the exact fonts I…” the man trailed off, deciding to save his thought for later. “Cowards both of them…I hope they’re happy I’ve been in here for the last twenty years.”
“Are you the one who gave them those things called…uh what was it…handplates?” Frisk asked.
“Yes.” The man said.
“Did you…did you make them?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do to them then? Both Papyrus and Sans seemed terrified about even mentioning you…like you were some awful secret they couldn’t bear sharing.”
The man turned away from Frisk. He started rattling, making noise like Sans and Papyrus sometimes. “I am a terrible person, no doubt there…” He admitted. “But not for the reason you think…” The man paused, breathing slowly to try and calm the rattling. “I made them.” He continued. “I gave them the handplates…Then I made their lives a living hell.”
Frisk was taken aback. They started to walk away from the cell, trying to process what they’d been told. “Wait!” Exclaimed the man in the cell. “So, they’re alive…are they-are they?” Even though he wanted to, Gaster couldn’t bring himself to say the words. They lingered in his mouth, unable to be spoken into the world. He felt like he would choke.
“Are they…happy without me?” He said, the phrase grating like sandpaper.
“I mean, they seem happy to me.” Frisk replied candidly.
“…. Good.” Said the man. “Go home, human…or where the hell ever they are, and tell 1-S and 2-P that the next time they want to chat, they’d better come to me themselves.”