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"Kris, you little dumbass... Can you come the fuck out already??"
Alright, maybe it was abit harsh given the circumstances, but you were starting to get to your wits' end with the gremlin.
It was one thing to run off in the middle of one of TorGore's famous verbal sparring matches, that much was understandable, but by hour 2 of searching for the kid in the middle of the autumnal woods? You were starting to wonder if you should upgrade your scolding to another bat-induced beatdown. Not the first time they'd deserve it.
Asriel scolds you for your language, as is typical of him, yelling out to the absent child and apologizing on your behalf to them. Good little church boy, that Azzy, you sometimes desperately wish you were not in love with him. Oh well, maybe you can develop better taste by college. Or maybe he'd grow to be worthy of better taste later in life. Who knows, not really the topic at hand anyway, plus you've already kissed him like 3 times. Right now you should focus on Kris. Stupid little lost Kris.
...Okay now you are just being harsh.
Really, you should just be angry at Toriel and Asgore for causing this mess in the first place. Why couldn't they just keep it together for one god damn day, exactly? Asgore saying some utterly stupid shit, Toriel choosing to escalate things instead of just leaving it be. Or sometimes the roles are switched, Toriel screaming and drunk off her ass while Asgore handles it with all the grace of a damn toddler.
This shit was starting to become commonplace in the lives of both your families, which doesn't strike you as either normal or healthy. Fuckin' adults...
You pass by the shelter again, for what feels like the fifth time today. Elly comments that you're all just going in circles, utter dejection in her voice. You grip her hand tight, telling her that Kris will show back up soon. They'd get hungry for some more pie before long, certainly.
Certainly...
By the time another hour passes, you can feel your stomach rumbling. Great.
You feel tired, too. A fantastic combination when hunting for a lost kid in the woods with your snowflake-delicate sister and wannabe-athlete boyfriend. The stress is getting to you. And you're passing that DAMN shelter again! What the fuck is wrong with this place??
"We're clearly not marking our trail well enough, or covering enough ground, or being loud enough, or something- I don't know!" You suddenly burst out with, quickly turning your vision away from the lump jutting out of the soil. All those wilderness survival training videos you watched on the internet 3 years ago are starting to feel like a useless investment. "Maybe mom and dad or your god damn parents found them already, how much longer are we gonna be here??"
Azzy denies such a thing, pointing out that none of the three have gotten a text or a call since they entered the forest. Not even one asking where everyone had ran off to once Kris had gone, now that you think about it. Surely they were looking too, right? "They better fuckin' be," you speak only to yourself.
Elly, sweet fragile Elly, seems like she's about to burst into tears. Normally you'd kneel down to hug her. Normally you'd pat her head, give her a kiss on the cheek, tell her it's all gonna be alright. Normally you'd act like the good big sister you try to be, but normally you aren't hunting down a brat in the middle of nowhere without nary a clue as to where they are. You silently plead to Asriel to deal with it for you, as much as the guilt eats you for doing so.
You need a moment away from this. Hypocritical as that may be, considering that very thought is probably why you're currently mad at Kris.
"...We can split up." You say, in a sudden (rather dimly-lit) Eureka moment. "Elly, you can go with Asriel. Take the left, I take the right."
It's abit of a long shot, honestly, considering that Elly tends to be glued to your side more often then not- but you also don't see many other ways to avoid screaming at the moment, and you really don't want to make this situation worse than it already was. "Cover more area that way, we'll... find Kris faster, yeah."
You're not sure Elly is convinced, nor Azzy to be honest. But he does at least pick up that you're struggling at the moment.
It takes a couple minutes. A big hug, a little kiss, and a promise to see her again soon- but Elly eventually sees it fit to travel with her (not literal) big brother for the time being.
You take 20 steps to the right and immediately scream into your bundled-up jacket.
❄︎☟︎☜︎ 💧︎✋︎💧︎❄︎☜︎☼︎
You finally make some progress, 20-odd minutes later, when a couple of blood droplets catch your eye.
...Damn it, Kris.
At least you always pack bandages.
☞︎⚐︎☹︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎💧︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ ❄︎✌︎✋︎☹︎
A few minutes later, you find their headband. The one with the little red devil horns, slightly bent out of shape from many a wiffle strike.
...Now you're a little concerned.
They never drop this thing. You pocket the item.
✌︎☠︎👎︎ ☹︎☜︎✌︎👎︎💧︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ 👌︎☼︎⚐︎❄︎☟︎☜︎☼︎ ✌︎💧︎❄︎☼︎✌︎✡︎
The branches stick out in odd ways around these parts of the forest, you think. Jutting out like jagged, elongated fingers that point every which way. Some darker, some decayed, all with something you can only describe as... intentionality? As much as something like that can exist in pure and unfiltered nature, at least. You see a few animals in your time here scurrying about. Mice, shrew, an owl, the tail of a stray cat darting just out of the corner of your eye. You feel like you're being guided, in a way.
Following the path laid out for you.
Another few minutes later, you finally find them. Kris. They're sitting on a stump, deep crimson dripping from their arm, knife clutched in the opposite hand.
Deep breaths, Holiday.
You creep up on them from behind, wielding the devil headband between it's horns. In a swift motion, you slam it down upon the human's head and keep them planted in place. They let out a startled shriek, dropping the knife from your sudden "assault".
"Dumbass," you start, kicking the knife away before anything else can occur. "We've been looking for you for hours, Kris." Your voice continues in something of an autopilot, kneeling down before the kid after they calm down the slightest bit. "Now hold still, let me see the damage..."
Kris is reluctant, at least at first. It's not the first time you've caught them (quite literally) red handed. You're not sure if anyone else knows about it, actually, but you do know that the kid doesn't usually feel the need to hide it from you anymore. They pull up their sleeve for you, letting you count about five (maybe six?) lacerations today. That's about four worse than usual, but at the very least only one of them is more than superficial. Might mean a couple new scars, though, experience has taught you as such...
"Kris... You can't wear long sleeves all the time, you know," You start, never really sure how to tackle this subject in a way that feels right. "I can't promise the next person who notices is gonna be as understanding as me, yeah?" Your voice continues as you wipe the blackened, drying blood away. Dad might not freak out about it. Azzy might understand if you're there to calm him down. Mom? Not a chance. Kris's parents? Even less so.
None of your carried band-aids quite fit the largest, deepest cut. A hastily sliced-off piece of your jacket makes due in a pinch. Seems the knife wasn't useless after all.
Kris simply nods at your words. You can never really tell with them, whether what you say helps or not.
"...Sorry for scaring you. Didn't want you to run, I guess."
You wrap an arm around Kris, bringing them to your side. An awkward hug ensues.
Kris says they were trying to find their way back, but got lost. You tell them it's alright, just not to do it again.
For now, all is forgiven.
Kris says there was a man behind the tree.
"...Huh?" Is all you can reply with for a moment, stopping in your tracks during the walk back "Waddya mean by that, Krismas?"
Kris says they saw a man, a strange man, behind the tree. They never specify which tree.
"...Okay. Was it... cool?" Is all you can think to ask, rather dumbly.
Kris says he said something. It sounded important, they say. Important to the man, at least, but Kris can't remember what it was anymore.
"I mean, then it probably wasn't important, right?" You say uncertainly. It would be a little odd for someone else to just be in the backwoods this far.
Kris says he's there again, pointing forwards.
There isn't a man behind the tree. Any tree that you can see.
"...You're playing a weird game here, Krismas."
They turn their head down and stay silent. You wonder if you should feel bad for not seeing what they see.
You hear it before you see it.
As you approach the little clearing with the shelter visible, a laugh rings out. Strangely-pitched and difficult-to-place in origin. Kris freezes in their tracks, and you find yourself pulling them to your side in the jumpy panic of it all.
...Who the hell laughs like that? You've never heard anything like it in your life. It's unreal...
And, for whatever reason, seems to really be getting to Kris. Their scarlet eyes are wide, hands clinging to your jacket in a way usually reserved for your little sister. You're not sure if you've ever even seen Kris be like this before, actually.
You cup a paw around their shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it, Krismas." You reassure, putting on the best big sister voice you can muster. Hasn't failed you yet, after all. "I'll be here if anything spooky comes around, alright?"
You wish you brought your bat, honestly.
Kris seems like they're comforted, just for a moment. At least until the laugh rings out again.
You turn around, head swinging wildly between trees to figure out where the hell that sound is coming from. You should probably just run at this point, considering the shelter (and by extension, the town) is right there- but Kris is clinging to your leg for deer life. It doesn't make things easy.
"Kris..." You grumble as you try moving yourself towards the underground bunker. "It's probably just a weird bird, Kris, we should just get back in town and get you back ho-"
It laughs again.
And this time, you actually can see it.
It's... a cat?
You think it's a cat.
Sitting on the branch of a tree. A giant, toothy grin on it's face, strange mismatched eyes starring straight into your soul. Or, is it starring at Kris...?
You don't have time to say anything to it, because it vanishes in a flash of black. Kris backs away a few steps, still clinging to your jacket.
"It's- it's just a cat, Kris, there's nothing-"
You feel a pain grow in your leg. You see red.
"It's moving in the woods!" Is all you can manage to yell to Kris as they sprint towards the shelter doors, you barely managing to keep up with a freshly wounded hoof. "Asriel! ELLY! DON'T COME THIS WAY!" You scream in desperation, hoping to the angel above that they hear it and run home, that whatever this THING is doesn't look for them next. It's hit you a couple times by now, you assume, always darting in and out of sight sooner than you can react, always preceded by that godawful fucking laugh. You think you managed to beam it across the face with a rock last time, but you can't be sure. There's too much blood streaming down your head to focus on that.
It's left Kris alone, at least. You're willing to sacrifice a lot to keep it that way.
You're honestly not quite sure what you're aiming for in running. Maybe it hates the light? Maybe it hates being outside the forest? Maybe the mere fact of being out of the trees and closer to town will comfort you through the pain you're in right now?
You don't know. But you know you need to run. You don't want to die here.
...
When did the shelter doors open?
You don't know that either. Kris looks like they only just noticed, judging by the fact they're currently frozen dead still in front of them.
Now you know what to do.
The next laugh you hear, it's right behind your tail. Run. RUN.
Your legs buckle for a second, but it doesn't matter. You just scramble on all fours forward, anything to keep momentum, so long as it means you can get the fuck away from the thing chasing you.
You practically tackle Kris from behind, launching them and yourself through the rusty doors of the shelter. In the next moment you can comprehend, you're slamming the door shut on that "cat's" pointed and razor-sharp tail. You really, really hope it hurts.
The doors close. You collapse.
You come to an unknown amount of time later. The first thing you see is Kris, huddled slightly away from you in the dark, hands absolutely soaked in blood. You blink, a lightheaded feeling overtaking you as your vision droops down. The next thing you see is the large, drooling gash on your chest. So that's why you feel woozy.
Fuck.
"Sh-shit... Kris... Krismas, are you okay...?"
They're looking at you. They look terrified. You can't blame them.
They say they tried to bandage you. They say they're sorry. They say they're sorry for running away.
"Don't... don't worry about it, Krismas, please..."
Repeat the nickname. Please, make them believe you'll get through this. Make yourself believe.
It really fucking hurts.
You hazily check your phone, blood smearing on it's screen. No notifications. No missed calls. No messages.
You try to call Asriel. It doesn't work.
Why now?
Stupid fucking kid. Why'd they run. Why'd they...
Fuck, doesn't matter now. They're in this mess just as much as you are.
"Kr... Kris, can you... Shit, I need help to get on my hooves, damn it..."
You want to throw your phone. It wouldn't solve anything right now.
Regardless, Kris walks over. They grab your hand, doing their best to help you back into an upright position despite their diminutive stature compared to you. Once you're up, it takes a great effort not to instantly keel back over and quite possibly literally spill your guts over the floor.
Either way, you turn around. Stare at the door for a second. Contemplating.
...
You ask Kris for their knife. They hand it to you.
You go to open the door, and-
It doesn't open. It's jammed. Locked. Something of that nature.
You're stuck here, until further notice.
☜︎☠︎❄︎☼︎✡︎ ☠︎🕆︎💣︎👌︎☜︎☼︎ 💧︎☜︎✞︎☜︎☠︎❄︎☜︎☜︎☠︎
👎︎✌︎☼︎😐︎ 👎︎✌︎☼︎😐︎☜︎☼︎ ✡︎☜︎❄︎ 👎︎✌︎☼︎😐︎☜︎☼︎
You and Kris have been stumbling through the internals of the shelter for awhile now. It's hard to describe, in all honesty. Small rooms dotted all over, some filled with sensible things like canned food and washing machines and various household utilities, a few more industrial in nature, even a (very small) firearms room of some kind. Others are filled with... frankly, nonsense and junk. Papers with unreadable symbols (or maybe it's handwriting?) and blueprints for visual gibberish. Science-y shit.
But it's... odd. It's all so dark. Even the things you shine the light from your phone on seem like they're still caked in a fine layer of dusk, it feels... wrong?
At the very least, Kris has calmed down. They seem to be having the smallest amount of fun poking around this musty-ass place, even.
...You're just hoping you still have enough blood to make it out of here by the time help arrives. Even breathing hurts. You don't want to let it show to Kris. You need to be strong right now, need to be...
You swear for a moment you hear the laughing again. Kris doesn't react. You hope it's your imagination.
"Kris..." You choke out between some labored breaths, "You've- You've tried your phone too, right? Doesn'it work...?"
They nod. You want to cry.
"...Asriel will be here soon. Or dad, yours or mine, hopefully... soon..."
Hopefully indeed.
❄︎☟︎☜︎ 👎︎✌︎☼︎😐︎☠︎☜︎💧︎💧︎ 😐︎☜︎☜︎🏱︎💧︎ ☝︎☼︎⚐︎🕈︎✋︎☠︎☝︎
❄︎☟︎☜︎ 💧︎☟︎✌︎👎︎⚐︎🕈︎💧︎ 👍︎🕆︎❄︎❄︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ 👎︎☜︎☜︎🏱︎☜︎☼︎
🏱︎☟︎⚐︎❄︎⚐︎☠︎ ☼︎☜︎✌︎👎︎✋︎☠︎☝︎💧︎ ☠︎☜︎☝︎✌︎❄︎✋︎✞︎☜︎
And then, something strange happens.
It's felt like hours. You're not sure how long it's been, actually. Your phone died forever ago, shattered across concrete.
You sat down for awhile, hoping the stream of blood oozing down your chest would stop after awhile. It's still going, even if it's marginally slower than before. You're not sure how you're still conscious.
A couple of laps around the building later, nothing changes. Your head pounds. You contemplate emptying the contents of your stomach somewhere Kris wouldn't notice, wondering if that's even possible at the moment. God. This sucks.
You're about ready to just say fuck it and call it a night when, rather suddenly, Kris's voice cuts through the dark.
They say there's a new door here.
You ask them what they mean by "there's a new door here."
They repeat themselves. They say there's a new door, here, right where the wall used to be.
"...Kris? What are you-"
You stumble into view of them. They're standing in front of a door. Grey, bright like it wasn't affected by the darkness permeating everything.
...You must be dead, right? And that's a door to the afterlife?
No, that's stupid. Kris is right here, they're not dead. They're basically untouched compared to you.
"...Open it." You slip out, like the words happened without any input from your brain.
The door silently creeks open. Inside is a hallway, much the same grey. The darkness surrounding you refuses to enter.
You limp in. Kris follows close behind, holding their knife in white knuckles.
...
There's a man here.
Neither you or Kris know what to say. He's just... standing here. Gashed-up features, formless body, a smile plastered in place. Or, are those gashes just part of his face...?
Imperceptibly, his gaze turns towards the two before him. Towards you.
Suddenly, your body seizes up. What are you looking at?
He... speaks?
You can't understand him.
But you know what he's saying.
It all just sounds like garbage noise.
But it makes sense to you anyway.
You're terrified.
❄︎☟︎✋︎💧︎ ☠︎☜︎✠︎❄︎ ☜︎✠︎🏱︎☜︎☼︎✋︎💣︎☜︎☠︎❄︎
💧︎☜︎☜︎💣︎💧︎
✞︎☜︎☼︎✡︎
✞︎☜︎☼︎✡︎
✋︎☠︎❄︎☜︎☼︎☜︎💧︎❄︎✋︎☠︎☝︎
"Experiment...?" You choke out, vision blurrier and blurrier as the man slurs out his speech in such eloquent fashion. "I don't... know what you're saying..."
The man's white pupils, absent until the very moment you noticed their existence, dart in your direction. His smile seems wider, or maybe you've just lost too much blood to see it right.
Kris hides behind you, taking a step back.
...You notice his hands. Why do they have holes in them? Are they holes...?
You don't know whats going on anymore. You head pulses. Your breath is slow.
📬︎📬︎📬︎
🕈︎☟︎✌︎❄︎ 👎︎⚐︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ ❄︎🕈︎⚐︎ ❄︎☟︎✋︎☠︎😐︎
You don't know what to think anymore. Darkness creeps into your vision.
You want to give up. To rest here. Forever. It'd be easy.
Darkness creeps over your body. It streams out from the ground in clouds of smoke, bubbling like boiled water against the ceiling of this non-existent room.
...The darkness. It's physical.
Coiling around your body. Creeping into your pours.
Your eyes widen.
The man apologizes. You want to scream at him, but you can't. He isn't there anymore. He was never there. You were never in that grey room, because that grey room never existed. The door is a wall and the wall is as solid as can be. But there's still darkness, it's everywhere you look, it's getting harder and harder to see because it just keeps growing and growing like a bacteria or an infection seeping into your wounds and clogging up your veins. You vomit the darkness up like a bad meal but it simply crawls it's way back up your jaw and down into your throat.
You can't escape from here.
But you aren't alone. Kris. Kris is still here. You can't let this take them too.
Glass forms in your eyes. You see Asgore, slamming on the shelter doors hard enough to break them. He'll be here any moment. The doors will open. Kris won't die here.
You can only do one thing to save them.
"KRIS!" You bellow as you turn, facing the terrified child. Your limbs begin to solidify, bone and flesh alike fading away as it all turns to shadows. "GET OUT, NOW! RUN AWAY!" You practically shriek as your voice becomes something that isn't your own. You throw your arm out, shoving Kris away from the all consuming void that swallows your being. Your jaw locks open.
You watch Kris scramble away. You watch them vanish with your sight.
Your breath stops. You can't move. You can't speak. You can't think. You're drowning and no matter how much you claw at your lungs it never stops.
Darkness becomes you.
And you become lost in the dark.