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Mindlessly, Killer wanders from Grillby’s all the way back to her house. She knows what she’s going to do. Who she’ll hurt, who she’ll help, but not when this’ll all end. Not even the stars up above on the surface would know, the celestial bodies also resetting to what they were before.
“SANS? SANS, WHAT’S WRO- WHY ARE YOU COVERED I-”
A slash flies across her vision as she watches her sister perform the same lines she’d heard a hundred times before. Her soul warps, uncomfortably and violently.
Rain pours on top of already fallen snow, turning the ground into a slippery slurry. Her sister’s footsteps laid where her boots once did. One touch to her face proved the DT leak was only growing worse and worse with every monster gone.
Pap’s dust, now spreading in the wind, covered her hands. Everything she would touch, anyone, would be tainted by her actions. The actions led by none other than the player. Her fingers tightened around the shitty kitchen knife she’d spend hours sharpening.
The hours she was supposed to have spent on the nth genocide. She knew she was delaying the inevitable when she spent her time on menial tasks. Her skull rings incessantly, tuning out everything else around her.
Blinking a few times to clear her eye sockets, she quickly whips her hands at her shorts to rid them of dust. It was too late to truly wash her hands. It was far too late to go back to the way things were before.
Distantly, she dares to think about the first pacifist run she’d experienced. Watching as all her friends and family settled into their new lives. Recalling the face of her sister as she sped down a highway for the first time, her excited laugh surrounding the two.
But she didn’t feel anything. Nothing elicited a proper reaction anymore. She could have thought all that could be, but couldn’t feel the anger of being robbed. Not anymore.
The tarry-eyed girl wasn’t sure she ever would.
^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°
Alcohol breaches Dust’s nose, burning through what could’ve been her sinus. A small, muted, groan escapes through her pillow. She laid face-down on her nearly bare, dirty mattress.
The constant threat of the player had been eliminated months ago, and yet she couldn’t leave her bed. She couldn’t reset. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t move. Her LV itched against her bones uncomfortably, just begging her to go out and kill more.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t kill those who were already dead by her hand. By her hand. It was all her fault.
A ghoulish scream pierces through her senses, causing her to jolt in place, not quite moving. Papyrus was screaming bloody murder as though she was being murdered right then and there. She didn’t even scream this loud when she was murdered. Murdered by her own sister.
Fuck…
Thoughts puncture her skull, all at once. Her pillow has probably never been as dirty as it is now. She’d always had bouts of depression, the kind that would leave her catatonic on her bed, or on the floor. The kind where she was unresponsive for the longest time, only moving under the threat of bone atrophy.
A strong inhale and a wet tap to her mattress tells her she’d spilt her jack. Dust jolts upwards at the cold sensation, spilling a little more out of the bottle. How the fuck was she meant to clean this? She carefully tilted the bottle, so as to not spill anymore of her liquid gold. Once it was right-side-up, she placed it a foot away from the ‘bed’, so she wouldn’t kick it over (again).
Her trip to the bathroom proved that she looked like shit. Her sockets were dark, her bones discolored from malnutrition, her teeth starting to yellow from lack of brushing. Of course, she didn’t notice, but Papyrus did.
“By the stars, you really are disgusting”
“Just look at yourself, is this what you wanted
“You kill everyone and call this living? …Pathetic”
And that was all it took for her fist to fly towards the mirror, shattering it. Her throat burned through a scream she didn’t know she was holding. She didn’t even look at her hands, didn’t clean up the marrow which beaded up at each knuckle. She just turned on the sink, splashed her face, and turned it back off.
She flipped her bathroom light back off as she sulked her way back into ‘bed’. Not yet bothering to clean up the spilt jack. It’s fine… it’ll dry eventually.
^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°
Horror touched the newly broken crack in her skull. It was sharp, not sharp enough to cut bone, but sharp enough to hurt if you pressed hard enough. Alphys was gone. The monster who she used to admire died by her hand. And she didn’t regret it
She couldn’t leave ‘Pap for a theory that wouldn’t even work, no matter how determined the queen was. The queen had no real evidence around whether or not this would work, Alphys’ theory was just that, a theory.
How was she supposed to hide this massive gouge in her skull? There was no way she could tell her sister all of what happened. She knew she would understand, but it would devastate her to no end.
Horror walked past Waterfall, entering Snowdin. The cool air invaded her fresh wound harshly. Her hands flew up to cover her skull, quickening her pace. She yelled at a bear monster to start to gather everyone next to the gifting tree.
She had an announcement; that every human who fell down, would not go to the queen. Every human would become a part of their rations.
^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°^∆°
The three of them laid sprawled out on a couch. Their movie was still playing even though two of them weren’t paying any attention. Horror’s eyelights lazily stared into the TV screen, the film would be over soon, but she wasn’t going to get up.
Horror was squished in between Dust and Killer, both of her arms wrapping around their shoulders. Dust was asleep, Killer looked like she was damn near close to falling asleep, too. The cracked girl looked down at Dust, watching how her ribs rose and fell evenly.
She slowly leaned towards the smaller’s face, pecking a kiss to her forehead. Noticing, Killer perked her head up, clearly wanting attention as well,
“Where’s my goodnight kiss?” She whisper-shouted.
Horror rolled her eyelights before pressing her teeth to Killer’s. Their kiss was less chaste, but just as loving. Intent shoved its way through, expressing their feelings without saying a word.
As Dust began to stir, Horror pulled away, eyelights no doubt in the shape of hearts. Her arm wrapped around the other protectively, lulling her back to sleep in no time.
All of their hopelessness traded for trust in each other. They all knew what they’d done. And it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but that they could stay together.
“...Goodnight” Horror’s voice groggy from sleepiness, “Luv ‘ya”
“Nighty Rory!” Killer buried her skull into Horror’s arm, trying to get as close as possible. Also maybe just trying to annoy her one last time. A little bit of liquid determination smudged itself onto Horror’s pajamas, not like she’d mind.
Killer whispered, almost embarrassed, “...Love you, too” She turned to face their TV once again, watching as the final few scenes sped on.