Reset

Six

Just a warning, hot sauce acts like makeshift drinking for sans because of his love for condiments and all TvT This was not my idea, but I just thought it was great and decided to incorporate it into the story~ Oh, and did I ever mention how much of a pain in the butt Fanfiction.net is? Because it is.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sans trudged back home through the snow banks, staring at the ground the whole time with his jacket hood tightly drawn up around his head. Loneliness seemed to eat away at him every step he took. He hadn't seen a single monster coming back to Snowdin, just sheets of dust that were once living creatures. He had to face the music: the Underground was now devoid of life. Not even a Temmie was present in Waterfall.

A light snowfall had begun by the time Sans house came into view, and speckled his blue jacket and black shorts with white snowflakes. He wondered how it could snow here; he was underneath the ground after all, it shouldn't be able to snow from a ceiling. Was this a side effect from the magic spell that had sealed everyone down here?

Sans thoughts wandered to how humans had taken away an innocent race's freedom, and how they now had taken something else of value to him, the person he cared about most. He growled under his breath, although he didn't mean to. Well, it wasn't like anyone could hear him anyway. The whole town was deserted- or so it seemed.

The skeleton s eyes strayed up the house, sizing up the outside of it as if he d never seen it before. True to this, it seemed foreign to him now that he had no one to share it with. The once cheery Christmas light display lining random places along the wood frame had lost their spark and seemed more dull than usual, and Papyrus jolly roger flag that hung atop the roof was motionless and wrinkled without the usual wind that made it flutter. Even where light had once poured from every window of the home, it was dark and gloomy looking. It could hardly be called home anymore.

Sans turned the knob and opened the front door. Everything inside was bathed with that same gloomy darkness like no one had ever lived there. As soon as he closed the door in a gentle manner, he couldn't help but freeze in place and fully grasp the weight of the situation. He d be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit afraid. What was wrong with him? He had always been branded as the laid back one who went with the flow and always seemed to be carefree without a worry in the world. But now, faced with a dangerous future, he began to unravel.

Sans slumped against the door, his legs suddenly unable to support the rest of him. With light blue tears starting to stream down his cheekbones, he sunk to the floor and pulled his knees up close to his chin, sobbing in a tiny ball. When he was finally able to lift his tear soaked head, the first things he spotted were six socks strewn about on the floor faintly resembling a pile.

"SANS PLEASE PICK UP YOUR SOCK!"

"ok."

"DON T PUT IT BACK DOWN! MOVE IT!"

"ok."

"YOU MOVED IT TWO INCHES! MOVE IT TO YOUR ROOM!"

"ok."

"AND DON T BRING IT BACK!"

"ok."

"IT'S STILL HERE!"

"didn't you just tell me not to bring it back to my room?"

"FORGET IT."

With shaky legs, Sans got up and trudged to the kitchen, opening the fridge door. He closed his eyes while doing so; it would tear him apart more if he was to see all those leftover containers of spaghetti just innocently sitting there. He felt around the shelf around half used ketchup bottles and finally pulled out a glass bottle of hot sauce from the very back. He immediately popped the top off and drank as much as he could possibly swallow in one go, which was pretty impressive considering he had no throat. Before he knew it, the bottle was empty and he involuntarily dropped it with a trembling hand, causing it to shatter on the floor. To keep from falling with it, Sans steadied himself by placing a hand on the fridge door.

Hot sauce- it always numbed his senses and made the world around him blur, creating a safe haven where he could escape his troubles. The thing was that when he started, he couldn't stop, and it d create dire problems in the future. But at this point, he didn't care. He started to question if it would've been easier if Frisk had killed him.

With an anxious motion, Sans grabbed the last two bottles from the fridge shelf and slowly made his way up the stairs to his room, his bones quaking with every step. Sans entered the dimly lit room and locked the door behind him, his descent into despair already long begun.

For all he cared, he could rot in this room and be fine with it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Six human souls, all pulsating in unison and floating in a slow circle while the eager smiling Chara gawked at them from below. The amount of power the souls had they couldn't comprehend the endless possibilities that they could get away with. The only catch: a human could not absorb another human soul.

Clutching the knife like a close friend, Chara looked back down to the floor where a heap of dust lay, a kingly crown sitting perched on top. Killing Asgore had been surprisingly easy; he had been too shocked by the scene before him. His once dead adopted child advancing on him with a bloodstained knife and a murderous gleam in their eye. All Chara ever wanted was revenge and power, and they d stop at nothing to get what they wanted.

A golden flower suddenly popped up from the earth, lightly shaking the dirt off his six petals. He glanced at Chara, a blank look to his eye until he saw the rainbow light glaring down from the souls. His friendly face contorted into a repulsive snarl while his voice took on a deep raspy tone.

"So you've done it. You've killed everyone you love."

Chara shrugged.

They d finally been reunited with Asriel, now turned into a flower. Chara had by now taken the impression that he was weak. After all, it was Asriel who had resisted killing those humans that had attacked them. Chara on the other hand had wanted to take advantage of Asriel's body and power to really show humanity what they could do. But that weak goat monster had to resist. Chara therefore had little interest in him now, he had proved himself to be too soft and cowardly. They did figure though that he d be useful in the long run. Even now, Chara had used him to go check around to truly see if everyone down in this wretched place was dead.

Chara stroked their blade and lightly tapped a foot. "So is everyone accounted for? No one left to stand in my way?"

Flowey's stem doubled over a little and his face became one of uneasiness. "Well there's still one out there."

Chara froze. "Who?"

Flowey confidently looked the killer in the eye. "Oh, I don't know, the one you forgot about? Need I remind you that you never killed that smiley trashbag?"

Chara gripped the knife blade harder so their knuckles turned white. Of course they'd forgotten about the deadliest threat in the Underground! Chara's objective was to kill, and if they couldn't carry out such an action, they couldn't "win the game." That skeleton was the only thing standing in the way of world domination.

"Tell me where he is."