Your name is Chara.
DEMON of Hyperdeath.
You outsmarted the witch and her useless friends.
That’s what you’d like to think anyway. Truth be told, you didn’t know that those sticky seeds would save your existence. No matter. It’s a plus point for you.
You waited for the celebrations to blow over. Complete with the silly hair-rubbing thing. It’s annoying. Everyone’s annoying.
Then, Frisk asked for a comb to straighten out their hair.
That’s a moment of opportunity.
When Mettaton helped, he turned around and exposed his switch to you.
Being the smart kid you are, you flipped the switch. He puffed back into his glaring pink glam-bot form.
The knife dropped out.
You thus swiped the knife from mid air. You remembered how your biological father trained you to do so. Until today, you also remembered the sting of failure: of how your soft child hands were covered in cuts.
After years of practice, you succeeded at a consistent rate. That’s how you survived the gruesome battle with that Smiley Trashbag.
Frisk was a wimp. Untrained and unrefined.
You raised your arm with the intent of plunging the knife into Mettaton’s back. Goodbye stupid shows. Goodbye.
Then.
His SOUL turned blue. Gravity magic sent the robot flying towards the wall and out of your reach.
For a moment you thought the Trashbag saved him. You then noticed an orange glow from the corner of your eye.
You turned your head.
It’s Papyrus.
A freaking. Shining. Papyrus.
Why the heck is he glowing???
Is this some new superpower or what?!
Papyrus shouldn’t be anything more than a pasta-loving idiot who’s too dumb to live! This is the guy who befriended Flowey and believed anyone can be good.
Here’s the thing: not everyone WANTS to be good! Being good for the sake of good is stupid, rewardless, and fatal.
That’s what you learned. That’s the real world.
You lunged straight at him. He will gloat about his heroics and you will use that time to slice through his ribs.
Just like what you did to his brother.
You heard no gloat. Instead, he dodged your strike.
Fine, what about your next blow?
And the next.
And the next.
And the… next…?
Why?
When?
Why can’t you land a hit?
The Papyrus you fought back in Snowdin was an utter joke. He treated you like a kid. Hah. Big mistake. You proved your strength by lopping off his skull.
You used to like him.
He’s pretty fun. Amusing. Goofy.
Then he started to get annoying. Forever about his bad pasta. His coolness. His awesomeness.
His kindness.
He reminded you too much of the old Asriel. Before you dragged him to the Surface.
You had lost your original SOUL, but you can still feel pain. You wish to smother out the memories to numb your agony. Replace it with ‘fun’, whatever that means
It’s the same reason why you once upon a timeline killed your adoptive goat mother.
Monsters love you more than humans.
They’re so nice.
They’re so disappointing.
If only they just replaced all those useless bags of racist bigot-filled flesh on the face of the earth--
Don’t get distracted now, Chara.
You noticed that Papyrus’ right Eye flashed orange for one second. Then, the impossible happened. In a single swift strike, he knocked the knife out of your hand with a bone.
So much force. So much accuracy. Your wrist stung from the blow.
Strange.
Why does it hurt. You’re supposed to just ‘control’ Frisk, not be them.
And yet, you somehow share whatever their body feels.
As you wondered about it, that damn skeleton sent the knife flying up towards the ceiling.
Great. It’s stuck there.
You still haven’t heard a single word from Papyrus. It’s creeping you out.
You asked Frisk if they knew anything about this unusual behaviour.
They gave no response.
No matter. Cenna, the witch, was an ex-police officer. And you knew the Magi kept her around for her skills. She should have a standard issue gun on her.
You tried to stomp on Papyrus’ kneecaps. You need to knock him down before stealing the gun.
Your biological mother taught you the various weakpoints on the human body. Conveniently for you, Papyrus had a very humanlike anatomy. He’s descended from their bones after all.
…Except he conjured this weird green shield right above said weak point.
‘Fuck. My. Life,’ you thought.
First it’s your wrist. Now your foot.
While you cringed, that damn skeleton turned the witch’s SOUL blue and sent her flying towards that cowardly king of a father.
Asgore dropped his trident. You rushed to grab it. Yet again, Papyrus swiped it away before you got close.
He turned it around and plunged the prongs straight into the ground. You tried to pull it out, but it’s too heavy.
Again. Stuck.
Your attention turned towards his red scarf. You always wondered why you never tried to hang or strangle him with that thing.
Just when you almost reached it, Papyrus turned your SOUL blue and pushed YOU away.
You were sent flying to the corner of the room. The velocity was enough to stun you for a few seconds.
With that, he blocked of your path with a side-turned heavy steel table. The same one they used to lay you down under that freaky skull machine.
You don’t get it.
Why?
HOW???
It’s as if he could read your damn mind!
Undyne said it the best: “What the heck? Are you really Papyrus?!?!?”
“YES, I AM,” he replied.
Papyrus kept his entire focus on you and you alone. You know that look: it’s the face of someone who had done this too many times.
Impossible. Monsters will never, ever have the Determination to time travel. And Papyrus isn’t Sans: he cannot recall the past.
You asked Frisk what’s going on.
“I don’t know either. I just have this vague feeling of trust towards him. Don’t you think he’s so cool?”
C’mon Frisk. Of all people, they should know exactly what’s going on. Did they do anything special to Papyrus?
“I’m not the one in control here. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.”
“CHARA,” said the glowing skeleton. “I SUGGEST THAT YOU STAY VERY STILL IN THAT CORNER. A GOOD MAN IS ON HIS WAY TO HELP YOU.”
Help what? Help how?
By vanquishing you in the most brutal way just like that witch?
Why didn’t he stop her before you had to endure that torture?
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“I’M VERY SORRY FOR NOT TAKING ACTION SOONER. BUT YOU WILL BE OKAY UNLESS YOU MOVE. THERE WILL BE MINIMAL PAIN. I HOPE.”
“SEE, I HAVE A FEELING THAT IF YOU TRY TO ESCAPE, YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE A VERY BAD TIME.”
“SO PLEASE, MAKE IT EASY FOR YOURSELF.”
No.
No no no no no!
You refuse to trust him! He’s the moron who believes anyone and everyone! You’re sure that this ‘help’ will spell the end of you.
You shoved the table with all your might and dashed towards the exit.
“WAIT, CHARA! STOP!”
To your fortune, Grillby was just about to enter the house. He held the door wide open.
You dashed past him. The freezing winds of midnight winter blasted against your face.
“Where are you going?” asked Frisk.
Mom.
You’re going to look for Mom.
Mom will protect you no matter what. She gets emotional when it comes to children. That’s her primary weakness.
If you told her that you’re their beloved child back from the dead, she won’t let anyone take you away.
“No! Don’t drag Mom into this, please!”
The thought of protecting Mom was enough to trigger the flow of Determination inside of your shared body.
Good. Soon, the power to RESET will be in your hands again.
Papyrus continued to yell his warnings. Not like you could hear anything with all the wind blowing between your ears.
The house was just right ahead. Once you get past the door, you will finally be safe.
Someone opened the door to greet you. Mom must have heard you running from a mile away.
Sweet, sweet hope…
…Dashed to the ground the moment you saw that distinctive flash of burning blue.
A bone pierced through your chest.
Right into your windpipe.
It hurts.
It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts--
You tried to scream, but you had no air. Your lungs had started to liquefy from the poison. Soon your heart will follow.
“Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever hurt your body before.”
It’s Sans.
The Smiley Trashbag.
He teleported right next to you. Just close enough to stab from a blindside.
Now he’s freezing time just to talk to you.
“Or have I?” He shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s not important. Nothing matters in the grand scheme of things anyway, right?”
“Leave the poor old lady out of this. If I see you again, you’re going to have double the bad time. And I’ll keep multiplying that until you wish you’re never born.”
He let time flow again.
You dropped straight on the snow. The pool of corroded blood widened beneath you.
You reached out to the place that should be your home. Tried to call for Mom’s help.
But you can’t.
* * *
By the time you remembered, it’s too late.
You turned around and tried to escape, but Sans was faster than you. This time, he pierced a bone through both your spine and your windpipe. Together.
The pain.
It’s excruciating.
You were torn to pieces so many times back in the Underground, but they never, ever hurt you this much.
He knew the depths of your suffering from the look on your face.
“…Huh,” said Sans. “Figured as much. LOVE numbs you. That’s why you kept going and going and going.”
“It’s different when you’re a normal human, isn’t it?”
* * *
You hid in the forest.
It’s cold.
Too cold.
You demand an explanation from Frisk.
What did they do to make you feel pain?
Frisk shrugged.
“You wanted my body so much. So, I gave it to you.”
When?!
“When I stopped fighting back. I had this feeling that someone told me to do nothing. So, I did nothing. That allowed you to control me a hundred percent. Convenient, right?”
After a brief pause, they continued. “I noticed you’re not getting dejavu before you escaped.”
“You dashed out, full of confidence. Then, suddenly… you got really, really scared.”
“That road leads to my house. Did you try to threaten me with Mom?”
Yes?
No?
Maybe?
You don’t know.
Frisk started to pump Determination into their SOUL. The power flowed until it reached a halfway point…
…Then it stopped completely.
Frisk?
Frisk, please explain.
Please?
“As the old saying goes: It’s kill or be killed. You’ve only done the ‘killing’ part of the equation so far. Never really felt what’s like to be killed. In the body. Against your will.”
“I’ll make you remember. I’ll force you to remember. You want to kill so much? Okay. Then be prepared to ‘feel’ the consequences.”
“This is your world now, Chara. Your philosophy came true. Now, please walk the talk. Live in it.”
Before you could scream back at Frisk, the Trashbag ambushed you. He finished you off with one shot of his Gasterblaster.
You had no HP to withstand a point-blank strike.
* * *
Death comes in shades of white and blue.
Fiction paints Grim Reapers as black and red.
Idiots.
Morons.
They got it all wrong.
* * *
You noticed.
You noticed that you travelled back in time. You had reset, back to one minute after you dashed out of Alphys’ lab. It’s a different SAVE point from before.
…There’s someone else pulling the strings.
Papyrus also stopped chasing after you. But you had this feeling that he’s still watching. From afar. With magic.
You imagined him constantly out calling to you.
Offering false safety.
Offering false hope.
“C’mon, Chara. Go back to Papyrus. He honestly wants to help you.”
You tell Frisk that it sounds too good to be true.
* * *
Losing an eye hurts like fuck.
Having your arm decay into some bloody wreck hurts like fuck too.
You can’t decide which is worse. You’re too lightheaded from the blood loss and pain to think straight.
You heard the Trashbag in all his casual glory.
“Whoa, humans get real messy when they’re hurt. I knew that already but… seeing you still alive after all of that. Pretty distasteful. I’m not even going to joke about that.”
The skulls of death loomed over his head.
“Look,” he said. “I don’t want to drag this out. Whatever you feel, Frisk feels it too. I know they’re just clinging on sheer minimal determination to not go insane.”
“…Being forced into something isn’t pleasant, right?”
He fired.
You braced through the pain and dodged. You had to buckle down the same when you were in training.
Toughen.
Strengthen.
Harden.
You tried to strike back. The Trashbag only had 1 HP. All you need to do was to land one strike on his pathetic SOUL and the nightmare will be over.
Frisk would be disabled. It doesn’t matter. You can just find someone else to possess.
You’ll throw them away like a piece of broken trash.
“That look on your face. I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “And I won’t let you.”
Sans then stabbed a bone right into your forehead.
* * *
You ran for your life.
The Surface was too wide. Too big. You couldn’t anticipate where and when that Trashbag will appear.
There’s only one place where you could funnel him into familiar territory.
The Underground.
Get Flowey’s help. Then together, you two will face the Trashbag in the Judgement Hall.
Numbers? Checked. Flowey’s ‘friendliness pellets’ should make the dodging much more difficult, and perhaps open up an opportunity for you to strike.
Location? Checked. The Judgement Hall was a narrow corridor, eliminating most options for an ambush. All you needed to do was to guard your front and back.
You killed Sans there before. You can, and will, do it again.
It’s a long way.
If only your host worked out with Undyne more or something. Frisk’s body tires a bit too fast.
Yet. Somehow. You managed to reach the throne room.
There’s no time to rest. You continued running all night, until at last you reached the deserted golden halls.
Hopefully there’s something to eat in New Home. Perhaps left there in one of Asgore’s gardening trips.
But then…
He’s there.
The goddamn Trashbag could teleport. Of course he’d mess with you by waiting at the other end of the corridor, where the box used to be.
“Brings back old memories, huh?” He said. “You and I, duking it out here.”
You’re scared.
But you laughed.
You continued to laugh.
You told the Trashbag that he’s the same deep inside. Same as you: a killer trained from childhood to eliminate the enemy. You were there when he confessed to Frisk after all.
You were there all the while. You saw how he got his hands dirty.
‘A human in the skin of bones,’ you said. No one else in the entire Underground fought as brutal as he did.
The Trashbag snickered back. “Oh, is that an invitation to join the dark side? Sorry, gotta turn it down. I prefer to work alone nowadays.”
No.
It’s a declaration for a duel.
It’s KILL, or BE killed.
“Okay. Guess you like to do things the hard way. Hmm, right. Aren’t you forgetting someone?”
Sans pulled out the head of a flower from his hoodie’s pocket.
He tossed it on the ground as if it was a piece of useless trash.
You asked him what’s that.
“Your best friend. I ran into him on the way.”
His answer rang between your ears.
It cannot be.
It cannot be. He killed Asriel. You’re the only one allowed to kill Asriel. No matter what.
You refused to believe him. You ran up to the flower to inspect it.
You felt the bits of his dust on your hands.
Rage erupted in your empty spirit. You clenched your teeth and balled your fist, ready to go all out against that damn blue skeleton.
However, before you could act, Sans grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and threw you through a shortcut.
You reappeared in Snowdin, on the path to Waterfall, complete with a flowing river.
Snow still covered this place.
White and blue, like Death before you.
“Hey, nostalgic isn’t it?” He asked, “Papyrus challenged you right here.”
You punched.
He dodged.
You executed many swift and consecutive strikes in an attempt to replicate your winning blow. But, he teleported away from you. His Eye flashed between blue and yellow, recalling the outcome of that battle.
“I remember that now,” he said, “Why and how I died. Welp. I got too confident, I guess.”
The Trashbag conjured a whole set of bones.
Instead of sending them flying, he stabbed them into the ground. You heard a shrill resonance vibrating in the air.
To your horror, anything they touched turned into fucking quicksand.
He ran the bones around you. Stabbed two more on the high cave ceiling far overhead.
You tried to escape, but your feet had nowhere to go. The moment you stepped on the sand, you could feel it attempting to suck you in like some goddamn black hole.
It’s worse than quicksand. You stepped on quicksand before and it didn’t actively consume. Not like this THING.
The ground collapsed beneath you.
The ceiling soon followed.
You found yourself tumbling straight down into a dark cave below.
Amazingly, the rocks didn’t crush you outright. The hollow pocket managed to hold up the bigger boulders and prevented them from falling straight in.
You stumble around in total darkness. It’s too much like your coffin.
“Heh, you’re lucky. For now.”
You heard Sans talking from above.
“Ever wondered why I never tried to drop the ceiling on you when we were stuck Underground? I mean, I could have done this from the very beginning.”
“Well kid, I’m banned from using this power for a good reason. Space is a premium if your nation is just the size of a mountain. Where are we supposed to go if a collapse happens?”
“Killing you with a cave-in is just the same as letting you win. Besides, you’d just come back with all the knowledge of my tricks. I know the truth behind The War after all.”
You imagined him shrugging with that fake goofy grin on his face.
“My options were limited. I had to make the best with what I have. Try to make you quit. That’s the only thing I could have done.”
“But, things changed. Nobody lives in the Underground now. I no longer live there too. And you? Not in charge. Not invincible. Certainly not numb. Heh, think I didn’t notice it?”
“Do you know what this means? I have a lot more options. I’ll make you want to quit now. But you know what? You can’t. Because you’re trapped in a loop with the rest of us.”
“Frisk’s cooperation is mine this time. Not yours.”
Something dripped on your head.
It’s cold. Wet.
Water.
Ice cold water began washing down on you. The collapse must have broken the bank, and now Snowdin’s river started to flow into your cave.
“So… what would you die from? The cold, or the drowning? Maybe the waters will just stop flowing midway and you’ll eventually run out of oxygen. What about starvation? Nah. That’s too slow. My brother would rescue you long before that happens.”
“I can’t let him save you. Not after all the times you killed him.”
You tried to dig your way out, but your attempts only caused more water to flood in.
“Welp. Time for me to go. Enjoy your last moments.”
The Grim Reaper left you to die.
You felt the water level rise. It’s now at your chest.
Alone. Abandoned. Afraid.
The cave continued to flood. You tried to keep yourself afloat.
Then you bumped your head on the upper boulders. The pocket of precious air slowly vanished.
You started to cry.
You don’t want to be here. You regret running to the top of the mountain. You regret tripping over that branch, although you wanted to throw yourself off the edge anyway.
You want to turn back time. You don’t care that your home life was harsh with long training hours or that your biological champion parents expected too much or that the villagers are mean or that school sucks or--
Anything other than this terror of getting killed over and over and over.
Anything.
Please.
Your name is Chara.
A frightened little kid.