Hey, Doll | Gaster!Sans x Reader

24 | Oh Look, Blood

[ Y/N ]

"Alrighty, let me ask you again, where is the Persistence base?"

My body was strapped back down to the metal table that I had been tortured in the day before, and the cold metal bonds that held me down dug deeper into my skin than before. I bit the inside of my cheek and tipped my chin up while relaxing on the metal table. "I have no idea who this Persistence group is, and no idea where their base could possibly be."

Dalton stared at me for a few seconds before helplessly shrugging and letting out a fake sigh. "Well, we were going to do this to you regardless if you would give us an answer or not, but I think we'll have to make it a bit more painful for you to cooperate. And I think we'll add a special little treat afterwards." Dalton called over one of the guards who walked over and picked up a strange pen-like-ink stick that had a long tube connecting to a box underneath a counter.

"What are you doing?" I asked as the guard moved over to my left arm and gripped it. "Well, we've got to mark our prisoners somehow," Dalton answered, causing all the blood to drain from my face as I realized what was about to happen.

"Stop!" I shouted while trying to twist my wrist away from the inking pen, the needle at the tip already wet with the permanent ink. "Stop it!" I screamed as the guard forced my arm down and held it with a viselike grip, ignoring my screams of protest as he whirred the pen to life and pressed the needle into my skin.

Screams of protest and agony filled the torture room as numbers and symbols were etched into my skin, the black ink biting into my flesh where it would never erase. I fought back tears as I tried to wrestle my arm away from the guard, only resulting in making my wrist hurt even worse.

The guard finally finished the last number on the inside of my left wrist and pulled away, setting the pen down before picking his weapon back up and returning to his post by the door. "Look at how pretty it looks!" Dalton commented as he sauntered over and gripped my wrist, forcing it up purposely to make me wince in pain. I stared in horror at my wrist, the black ink seeming to taunt me as it sank deeper into the branded numbers on my skin.

"Now you will forever be known as Prisoner #1-543880, isn't that wonderful?" Dalton continued, smiling at my weak expression. He dropped my wrist and walked over to one of the counters, turning away so that I couldn't see what other horrors he had in store for me. I looked back down at my wrist and winced again, forcing the tears not to come as I quickly looked away and glared at the floor.

#1-543880. I'll always be #1-543880. Thanks to him.

Fucktard.

"Who's ready for some more appearance changes?" Dalton asked happily, turning around to show that he was holding a wicked looking knife. My eyes widened as he walked towards me with the knife in hand, my mind starting to race through terrifying images of what he could do to me with that knife. "I think I'll start with a few changes on your arms," he said as he gripped my arm and held it down.

My mouth opened to scream for him to stop, but before I could, the knife's tip sank into my skin and slowly dragged down towards my elbow. My screaming filled the room again as Dalton repeated the process over and over—to both my arms, my stomach, and even my collarbone. Small puddles of blood started to form on the floor as it leaked off the metal table I lay screaming on, completely helpless as the knife was stabbed and dragged into my skin too many times to count.

"And finally, the best for last," Dalton said after finishing a few cuts on my collarbone. He lifted the knife up to my forehead and sank the tip into my skin right at my hairline before dragging down where it ended right below my right eyebrow. Blood dribbled into my right eye as choked gasps escaped my cracked lips, my heart pounding in my chest and my breaths ragged. "Now you look just like that damn skeleton," Dalton chirped as he turned away and walked back to the counter.