No words could describe how awful, how terrible you felt. If someone were to look in your eyes, all they would see is twirling emotions.

Your eyes blazed with fire, biting your lip so hard it started to bleed. You grab onto the wall, hoisting yourself up before the dizziness took over and you fall back to your knees.

Before you couldn't even process the fall, black goo starts to ooze from between your teeth and lips. You peer over your knees and vomit a good amount of black goo. You couldn't even catch your breath before more rose up your throat and splattered against the flowers and rocky floor. Finally, you stop spewing goo and take a deep breath, almost like being under the water for a long time.

A hand shoots up from the goo, making you back up into the wall and scream. Another hand thrusts out, grabbing onto the floor and pulling a body up. Your eyes were wide, lips parting and breath quickening.

Once the body is all the way out, their back was turned to you. Their purple sweater was covered in blood, crimson dripping off their hands. Their short brown hair was slightly frizzy and their body trembled, twitched at times.

"I've wanted to meet you in person for quite some time now, dear."

A male, demonic voice bounced off the walls of the cave, making you gulp. This wasn't just any human. You knew that from the start.

"Who are you?" You wheeze out, coughing up more black goo in your hand.

"Frisk." They answer plainly.

"I must say, Sans is one messed up skeleton. He might even be crazier than me."

His voice was laced by amusement, touched by Satan himself. His arm jerked to the side, his grunt of pain following afterwards.

"But you need to know something," he chuckles, slowly turning his head back to you.

His insane smile widens at your fearful look. You stared, slightly traumatized by what you saw. His eyes had been gouged out, leaving nothing but two empty eyesockets. Black goo mixed with unnaturally dark blood slid down his tan cheeks that had multiple scratch marks and cuts on them. His teeth were pointed, the ends stained with bright red. His smile made you feel dizzier than you already did.

His soulless gaze left holes against your skin. You felt violated even if he hadn't touched you once.

"The lie you've been living is just the begining." He twirls, vanishing in just one blink.

The black substance on the floor bubbled and popped, making your stomach churn. Your eyes roll back and you drop onto the flowers.

Then everyone goes dark only for you to wake it in that same bedroom you ended up in twice now. You rip the purple blanket off your sweating and sick body, shrieking when you saw your snapped leg in a cast. Pain set in, making you fling your head back onto the pillow, eyes blurring with salty tears. The bedroom door flings open and the same goat man walks in, looking concerned.

"You're awake..." He mumble, putting a cold, wet rag on your forehead.

"W-what is happening?" You cry, unsure how this was all happening.

He sits down beside you on the bed, taking one of your hands in his big, fluffy ones.

"Stay calm, child." He says soothingly.

That just made you worry more..

"I am Asgore, caretaker of the ruins." He introduces himself, trying to calm your nerves.

"(Y/n)." You say through clenched teeth.

He gives a fatherly smile, making you relax your jaw and sink into the mattress.

"What happened to me?" You choke out, bursting into confused tears.

"Child, I found you on the patch of flowers. Your leg had broken your fall. You blacked out from the pain."

You shoot straight up, only to be eased back down by Asgore.

"I'm not finished," he says crudely.

You grab onto the sleeve of what he was wearing, your heart shattering into a million glass shards.

"You've been in a coma for some time now." He says bluntly, patting your hand to comfort you somewhat.

"No..." You whisper, yanking away your hands from his, cheeks heating up from anger.

"You're lying!" You shout, curling up onto one side and crying.

Asgore gives you a pitiful look, getting up and silently leaving the room. You stare at the wall in front of you, eyes glazed over without a care.

You could just lay here and die and everything would be normal again. Papyrus doesn't know you. He did never did. Your mind made up a dream, made you believe it was real, then you woke up to bittersweet reality.

It was sweet because Sans and Papyrus had their lives back. The bitterness because you never wanted to see them again. If you did, everything that happened would happen for real this time.

*It must hurt. I know it does.

That same voice speaks inside your head, making you relax into death. You wished it upon yourself.

You never met Fresh. You never met your two best friends. What's the point in living now.

*Get up sweet (Y/n).

"No." You mumble into the blankets, closing your eyes.

A firm grip on your arm makes your eyes snap open. You sit up and turn, coming face to face with Frisk. He gives a sickly sweet smile.

"Go away!" You shout, only to have your hand grabbed.

He squeezes hard, making you scared. He grabs your chin with his same hand, dipping your head back and kissing you. He presses his lips roughly against yours, smirking at feeling your cheeks grow warm. You could feel the blood and black ooze on your face as he kissed you.

You didn't close your eyes, and you found yourself staring into the endless void he had for eyes. They seemed so captivating.

He slips a knife into your hand, enclosing your fingers around the handle. He pulls back, seeing you trembling from the realization.

"Time to work, (Y/n)." He whispers, wiping away the liquids he left on yours cheeks.

"Be my eyes. My ears. My puppet." He leans by your ear, kissing your neck gently.

"No time for silently sleeping. Not anymore."