"Toriel."

The former queen of the monsters swayed to some unknown rhythm, humming to herself. Her focus immediately directed to Mayor Grimes, catching the congresswoman by surprise. She hadn't yet gotten used to the milky white membranes that had settled over Toriel's irises, a sure sign that the serum had gone to work eating away at her memories, stripping away any form of consciousness.

It was genius, absolutely genius.

The serum was undetectable, able to be placed in every food. It would have no impact on humankind, but would drastically alter the monster population. Almost immediately, it would go to work scraping away at their brains or wherever the hell their memories were stored. It would wipe the slate clean, the effects irreversible.

Not only that, but the serum left behind its own fingerprint, carving out detailed instructions that would bind monsters to their cause. They would become the ultimate slave labor force to the city of Chicago. Away with riots of old and threat of civil war that always seemed to loom in the horizon. She had created the ultimate solution.

Already the workers below had set to work, carefully placing a white powder of each pre-cooked food item before it was sealed and prepped for shipping. Within hours, monsters would begin to drastically change, their memories altered as Toriel had been.

There were some side effects as Toriel had displayed during her interview. It seemed that for the first day or so that monsters were forced into submission, their memories still retained. They moved as the serum instructed them to, yet they still remained consciousness of who they were, every fiber of their being fighting against the serum that held them hostage.

But that changes, Mayor Grimes reflected as her gaze fell upon Toriel who had since then been completely and entirely brainwashed. Not one bit of her former self remained, she had even lost the ability to talk. But she did what she was supposed to, a good soldier.

She watched in satisfaction as the first of the hundred trucks roared to life, its cargo near capacity. Soon the tainted food would be delivered to every extent of Chicago, and the monster population would finally be placated...

Five hours later...

"Papyrus, I'm back!" Sans forced the door open to his apartment. The first detail you noticed was the musty odor that seemed to cling onto every molecule of the room. It was covered in a layer of grime, probably having never been cleaned since the day the first bombs fell...

How could monsters tolerate this? You checked you watch and noted that it was six o' clock in the afternoon, usually the time the lights went on. And on cue, on the other side of the city, buildings and machinery roared to life, the faint hum of human civilization barely detectable. You couldn't help but smile at the reminder of normalcy, a lingering memory of the life you had once lived.

But on the west side of the city, the blocks that had been squared off for the monsters, electricity remained vacant. Upon closer inspection, there weren't any lightbulbs or wiring for an electric current to pass through. Monsters had been completely cut off from the luxuries you had taken for granted, assumed that everyone in the city took part in.

How can they like like this? you wondered as you passed through layers of trash and filth. Garbage trucks hadn't even bothered to collect the trash here, made obvious by various crushed milk cartons that had the expiration date of several months ago, only about a week or so after the first monsters arrived in the city.

"It's barely a life worth living," Sans chuckled darkly, bitter humor laced in his words as he caught your stare.

"This isn't right," you whispered, watching as a cockroach scurried across the floor. "Why don't you tell anyone about this? If the press got ahold of this, it would make the front page. Mayor Grimes would have to answer for it, she'd..."

"Don't you understand, [Y/N]?" Sans shook his head in disbelief like he couldn't believe there was anyone as dumb as you on this god-forsaken rock. "Nobody gives a damn about us! We could rot for all your kind cares! We're practically starving, working a hundred and twenty hours a week to maybe, just maybe, buy ourselves a loaf of bread or two..."

"Things are going to change..." You insisted, determination blazing in your eyes. "This won't last. Monsters will riot, they'll put an end to this..."

"Don't you think we would have already?" Sans rolled his eyes, ferocity in his words. "Nobody cares because the system works. We're not being hunted and burned at the stake like the good old days. We have a house, even if it is a dump..." The skeleton kicked a molded over ketchup bottle for good measure.

Speaking of we...

Your eyes wandered to a chipped dining table in which groceries had been set down. Most of the refrigerated items were still cold, so they only had been out for no more than an hour. You had heard Sans briefly mention his brother Papyrus...

(The one you killed again and again and again...)

But you had yet to meet him. There was panic in Sans' walk as he too stared at the forgotten groceries. "Dammit Papyrus," he swore and took off running in the direction of the kitchen. You followed after him, noticing the over-burnt spaghetti sauce that was still cooking on the stove. It looked like Papyrus had stopped in the middle of his recipe, if you would even call it that. The noodles were harder than burnt rubber.

You quietly cranked the stove dial back to zero, looking around for any trace of the skeleton. Sans was already tearing upstairs, heading towards his brother's room.

"Sans!" You barely had time to say anything before a guttural cry echoed through the house, hitting home with pitch perfect clarity.

It was snowing.

You blinked once, attempting to block out the resurfacing memory. It was probably the reminiscent of some dream you had a night ago. But the recollection was sharp, each detail magnified, a contrast against what dreams usually were. Dreams usually consisted of a few minor details, the whole picture not entirely composed.

There was a knife in your hand, covered in what looked like dust, the material that monsters decomposed into after having passed. Had you done such a thing, brought an end to some unsuspecting life? Your gaze flickered to a red scarf that was blown away into the breeze, carried into the outskirts of the forest that surrounded whatever town you were in. A blue iris was staring back at you, judging your every action.

You felt your sins crawling on your back.

With a gasp, you pulled yourself away from the memory and forced yourself to head upstairs. Vomit rose in your throat at the sight of a skeleton who almost tripled Sans in height sprawled across the floor, twitching involuntarily. Incoherent words streamed from his mouth at random, meanings which were lost to you.

A half-eaten plate of spaghetti was at Papyrus' feet. The skeleton let out a scream and began to convulse as some poison racked through his body. Sans said nothing, taking a step back from his brother. He watched in a cold silence, his eye sockets an empty black. Papyrus' steam of babble eventually ceased and he collapsed onto the floor, twitching occasionally.

And then his body jerked upright, limbs bending at awkward angles. Papyrus' fingers flexed at random as if someone knew was testing out his body for the first time. His neck was bent at an angle that was most likely considered not normal in monster standards. "S-Sans?" The first coherent words escaped his lips.

Hope flared in the two of you, that whatever bout that Papyrus had gone through finally came to an end. "I'm here," Sans whispered and made a move towards his brother, ready to console him.

You were the first to notice the twitch of Papyrus' fingers, the only indication of what was about to happen next. You barely had time to shout out a warning before Papyrus let out an inhuman screech and flung himself onto his brother. "I HATE YOU!" The words flew from his mouth in a war cry, slamming Sans against the wall. "YOU LET HER DO THIS TO ME! YOU SHOULD HAVE WARNED ME!"

Sans barely had time to regain himself before Papyrus kneed his brother in the side, delivering a blow to his skull and finally to his leg. It was obvious that Sans was refusing to combat his brother, something that whatever drug was influencing Papyrus wanted. The taller of the two skeletons continued to scream and wail, clawing at his own skull as orange tears streamed down his face. There was almost a look of sorrow on his features, a silent apology for the series of events.

"She doesn't want you," Papyrus whispered, crawling over to Sans' collapsed form. "You're too powerful, you're a threat to our society and stability. You have the power to kill thousands, but you won't kill your own brother. She says that will be your downfall." Papyrus' hands clamped around the hilt of a glass shard, preparing to plunge it into Sans' throat.

"No!" The words escaped your mouth and you charged into his side, hoping to stun him. You had no intention of hurting him, but to hopefully gain a momentary advantage in which you and Sans could restrain him until the drug burned out of his system.

"She has an interest in you," Papyrus whispered into your ear. "She's seen you [Y/N]. She knows about your memories."

This caught you momentarily by surprise. They weren't even memories, just scattered fragments of the world's most messed up dream. "You're lying," you hissed but it was already too late. Papyrus had grasped the distraction he needed and cut the sharpened end of the glass onto your side. Blood immediately flowed from the wound and onto the carpet. Papyrus raised the shard for a fatal blow when he was knocked violently against the wall, rendered unconscious.

Sans stood a few feet away from you, some gigantic skeleton had formed behind him, a blue laser glowing in its mouth. He helped you to your feet, vaguely eyeing your wound before placing a hand on the exposed flesh. You felt chills rack down your spine as the skin slowly reattached bit by bit, no trace or scarring of the cut even visible.

"What the hell happened to him," you breathed, taking a step back from Papyrus.

"It's the food," Sans growled, kicking the plate of spaghetti. "Grimes said that equal food would be distributed to humans and monsters. It's probably her way of getting us under control, putting us all under one hive mind. But humans of course will be spared no doubt. You are the master species after all."

"Will you ever shut the hell up?" You snapped, heat rushing to your cheeks. "I haven't done one damn thing to you, hell, I've even saved your life a few times. I'm not the one doing this to your brother, so stop blaming it on me."

Sans said nothing, and growing suspicion dawned over you. How selfish you were to even consider that perhaps you weren't the only one with returning memories.

You shuddered at the word. If they were indeed memories, glimpses into previous lives, and you had killed his brother, there would no doubt be resentment between the two of you. "I'm sorry," you whispered, biting your cheek for coming up with such a petty response.

"Help me tie him up," Sans grunted, dragging Papyrus to a chair. You reluctantly obeyed and grabbed rope from a garbage heap, greeted angrily by a family of raccoons that had made residence inside. You carefully wrapped the ropes around his abdomen, fearing that Papyrus would suddenly spring to life and snap your neck right then and there.

Or maybe Sans would do it for you.

"Okay, here goes nothing," Sans whispered and grabbed a bucket of cold water, splashing it on his brother's face.

The reaction was instantaneous, Papyrus springing back to life. Only, the viciousness was entirely drained from his form. Grey liquid leaked from the two holes on his skull that acted as his nostrils, most likely brain matter. Whatever was in the food was eating his brain from the inside out.

"Too late," Papyrus whispered, his head rolling to one side. "You're too late."

Sans narrowed his eyes. He wasn't talking to his brother anymore, not really. The serum had eaten away any personality, completely wiped away the former Papyrus. "What do you mean?" he snarled.

"The serum is coming, we're going to become whole again," Papyrus muttered and gave way to a seizure. His pinpricks contracted an expanded before a milky-white membrane settled over his eyes, giving Papyrus the appearance of a decaying corpse.

"Papyrus!" Sans shouted, shaking his brothers shoulders. After earning no reply, he hunched over, his skull in his hands. "You know, I tried so hard," he whispered. "All the time, when it was just us, when were left alone by him... I was always there for Papyrus. And when the world went to hell, after the bombs fell, we survived. We..."

His voice broke off, florescent blue tears streaming down his cheekbones. "It doesn't matter anyway," he growled and turned away from Papyrus' limp form. "He's dead, there's no doubt about it." On those words, some blue laser cannon materialized behind Papyrus.

"Sans, no!" You screamed as a bright blue light filled your vision. The moment passed and the chair Papyrus had been strapped down only moments ago was incinerated, a pile of dust serving as his only living memory.

"What are you waiting for?" Sans asked, his voice rid of all emotion. A knife was clutched in his hand, shaking as the beginnings of insanity made its way into his mind. This seemed oddly familiar, but you couldn't quite place it.

"You..." You were immediately cut off by Sans' sudden glare, his left eye materializing into a pulsing swirl of yellow and blue.

"The past is in the past," he growled and walked out the door, slamming it shut.

Horror clawed at your stomach as you followed after him, dreaming of the day in which you would storm the capital building of Chicago and put a knife into Mayor Grimes.

And something told you that you would be doing it alone.