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Sometimes, in very brief moments, Horror forgets who they have become. In quiet fleeting moments he will look in the mirror and not understand how or why his skull is cracked wide open. In fast flashes, he feels confusion at being addressed as Horror, mind struggling to comprehend why Sans isn’t the name passing others lips. In quick moments of panic, he stares in startled terror at his daemon who stands before him in a different body bearing a different name. And unlike Killer and Dust, Horror finds himself sometimes longing for the days when he’d been Sans, for the days when Antheia had been Danita.
Their shift had been a slow crawl in the lead up that turned into a mad senseless dash at the last few meters. Hunger and starvation had started chipping away at their psyche, pulling at their morals. It was hard, but not enough to trigger a re-settling. No, that trigger had been in the form of an ultimate betrayal, in the form of someone they had once called friend ripping parts of them away in a desperate bid for salvation. The day Horror lost his eye was the day he lost who he once was, was the day he broke apart and was forced to reshape himself in order to survive.
Despite his lapses in memory, that day is one that will never be truly lost. It’s always the first thing to come flooding back when he has his moments of confusion and panic. The way those spears had felt pinning him to the ground, the sound of Antheia, then Danita, screaming in terror and pain as she was held down by the daemons of two Royal guardsmen. The feeling of his skull being split open, the way the inside had sparked with white hot pain as his eye was forcefully yanked free. The way the bond between him and Danita had shuddered, flinched and screamed as their trust in Undyne and her Asmit had shattered. Danita had howled with rage, had bayed for blood and eventually, had changed right there in that throne room.
The pain had been beyond anything they had ever experienced, far eclipsing even what they had just been subjected to. To feel your soul split apart, to feel it change and reshape itself after having seemingly found yourself, it is said to be the most painful thing any living being can experience. For Horror, it felt like that moment stretched on into eternity when in reality it took only a few seconds for Danita to change from badger to hyena. She hadn’t waited a moment before turning her far more powerful jaws onto the two daemons holding her down. She had ripped them apart, killing them and their monster counterparts while horror had slowly pulled himself up off the ground. The whole time, Undyne had looked on in terror, her Asmit hissing with disgust from her shoulder.
They left Undyne-Asmit in that throne room, a promise for revenge and blood their parting gift. The residents of Snowdin had stared in horror as they walked home, Papyrus and Imani crying with soul deep grief when they saw them. The siblings had spent the night wrapped around each other, grieving for the life they once lived, for the people they’d once been.
“I don’t feel like her anymore.” Danita had whispered days after the incident.
“Don’t feel…like….sans….either.” He said back in stilted words, frustration bleeding through his voice. He still kept going by Sans until Nightmare came along and rescued not just him but the Snowdin residents as well. From there, he learnt of his AU’s name, Horrortale and decided to adopt it as his new one so he’d never forget where he came from. Danita chose her new name earlier, found it in the pages of an old book collecting dust in the library.
“Antheia, a Goddess of vegetation and gardens.” She had read before turning to face him. “That is who I am, who I want to be.”
“Antheia….my Antheia.” He’d smiled, resting his head against her own.
Everyone in their home AU had been respectful of their new names. Papyrus had given his now famous crooked smile while Golden Retriever Imani had yipped happily. Her coat was no longer matted and dull and Papyrus’s bones no longer yellow and brittle, the constant supply of food in the Omega Timeline helping to restore them to how they’d once been. Horror and Antheia were better too, but they would never be the same. A cracked skull, a reshaped soul. Their scars to bare from a deep betrayal.
Meeting Killer, Dust and their daemons had helped. It had soothed something deep inside them to see they weren’t the only ones who had been irreparably changed in the worst way possible. There was also a strange comfort in seeing how different they all were, that even though they all started off as Sans-Danita they weren’t the same as each other.
Killer was loud, abrasive and liked to push buttons, to see how far he could push until he’d be forced to deal with consequences. His Fran, while also very forward and brash, was also more tactful than her monster half. She was Killer’s voice of reason, the one to keep him in check when he was starting to go too far over metaphorical lines.
Dust was quiet most of the time, a shadow lurking in the background. He kept to himself, stayed out of Killer’s antics and wasn’t inclined to long conversations. Horror was quick to learn that Dust was like a dormant volcano, ready to erupt to life at a moment's notice. His Eira was his rock, she grounded him and kept him from slipping into LV fueled rages. She was the one to look to, the one to signal that things were about to go south.
The three of them are strange, volatile and for most, unsympathetic. The rest of the multiverse looks at them and sees bloodthirsty murders, calling them the murder time trio. Monsters look at Antheia and see a scavenger, a frightening creature that would kill you as soon as looking at you.
“She’s strong, a leader.” Fran praised, little cat paws kneading against the hyena's side.
“A kind, gentle soul.” Eira sighed, head tucking under Antheia’s jaw.
“The pair of you aren’t like us.” Dust said. “You killed for survival, self defense. Killer and I, we killed because we lost ourselves to madness for a while.”
“You're the best out of all of us.” Killer smiled.
They start out as colleges, turn into friends and then become family. Horror knows he’s lucky, he still has his Papyrus after all unlike Killer and Dust. The pair never hold that against him though, still look at him as a brother. He doesn’t hold it against them that they killed their Papyrus, knows how a fractured mind can be driven past the point of no return. All of them went through hell and came out the other side broken and hurting and all of them have grown stronger together, have helped each other heal.
“It’s almost perfect.” Antheia said one night.
“Almost?……Why not…..perfect….now?” Horror asked.
“It just feels like something is still missing, I can’t really explain it.” She sighed while shrugging as much as a hyena could.
That feeling of almost would follow them for a few years as they traversed the multiverse with Killer-Fran, Dust-Eira and Nightmare. They explored worlds beyond their wildest dreams, saw worlds that left them trembling in terror, learned things most mortals would never have the chance to. It’s not until they meet Cross that the almost feeling finally settles into perfect, though it takes them a few days to notice as they have to get over their shock of seeing someone with two daemons.
“Look! There’s two of them!” Antheia hissed with an almost terrified glee when the short monochrome skeleton had been led into the entrance hall of the castle by Nightmare. “He has two daemons! Horror, look!”
“I…see them.” He’d whispered back, wide eyelights flicking between the twin snakes curled around the other skeletons arms. Steel blue and glowing red eyes gaze right back, twin snake heads lifting to whisper things into their monsters acoustic meatus. Horror pushes down his unease and wonder to properly introduce himself and Antheia who also dips her head respectfully. Killer-Fran and Dust-Eira make a small effort to introduce themselves, Fran not even trying to hide her open staring.
Horror-Antheia can’t help but stare as well when after Cross introduces himself and his strange pair of daemons they shift from glittering white snakes to polished ivory white ravens. While Cross is clearly young he still looks far too old to have unsettled daemons. Nightmare’s revaluation that Cross had come from a daemonless AU helps to clear the air while also filling them with the familiar unease they always feel when confronted with the knowledge that there are worlds out there without daemons.
“It must be terribly lonely to not have your other half by your side.” Antheia said later that night when Cross-Elisha-Heshel had gone to bed. Killer-Fran and Dust-Eira sit in their room, all of them wishing to discuss the new arrival.
“They acted like they had always been with each other though so surely those without a visible daemon still have their companion in some fashion.” Eira pointed out.
“Still ain’t right.” Dust scoffed, phalanges digging into Eira’s ruff the only outward sign of his discomfort.
“Well I like the newbie, I think they are gonna be lots of fun.” Killer stated, face split in a lazy smirk.
“The twins are fascinating. I’ve never seen anything like them before.” Fran added while she arched her back in delight.
Days later, Antheia would stop and watch as Cross would scowl at Killer who was being his usual self while three little house cats, one tabby and two white would run around and play fight. “They were the almost we’ve been waiting for. This place, this family, it feels complete now.”
Horror hummed softly, eyelight tracking the three daemons just as carefully as Antheia was. This felt right, this felt like home. Cross and his strange twin daemons had filled a gap none of them had known existed. Horror had been through hell to get to where he was now, and had suffered unspeakable betrayal at the hands of someone he’d called a friend. But he was finally happy and content with his life, with his new family. He glanced down into honey amber eyes that gazed back knowingly.
“We are…..finally…whole…once more.” He smiled. Antheia gave a low rumbling laugh in agreement. Yes, things were perfect and they wouldn’t have it any other way.