To say you died would have been an exaggeration.

There was a brief moment in pain, which was expectable. You had broken every bone in your body, which of course included your neck and spinal cord. But despite your physical condition, an element inside of your body refused to let you slip into oblivion, a small ember that refused to be smothered.

And slowly, each bone snapped back into place. A fierce coldness raced through your body as you slowly got to your feet, taking in your surroundings. You had fallen into a massive ravine, a patch of yellow buttercup flowers acting as your only cushion.

"What the?" your fingers brushed by your right temple. There was a small inching sensation there, the kind that refused to go away no matter how many times you scratched at it. Your forefinger traced the silky outline of a petal.

Stupid flowers, you thought angrily to yourself and made an attempt to remove it from your skin. Instantly, fresh waves of pain jolted through your spine. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as you collapsed to the ground. It was as if the flower had become a part of you, and removing it would be as painful as if you were trying to pull out your ears or your eyes.

I don't have time for this, you shook your head and began to pace around nervously. You were dead, you had to be dead. It was not humanly possible to survive a drop that far.

But yet you had, no matter how much you tried to deny it. You had felt your body break, you had felt the life slowly drain out of you, but you had also felt the renewed energy that had coursed throughout you, putting yourself back together again. You couldn't quite describe the emotions that welled up inside you at the time, but oh, how determined you felt.

"Determined to get out of here," you grumbled and nearly tripped over a lone flower. In a fit of anger, you grasped it by the petals and began to tear at it frantically. "I HATE YOU!" an inhuman screech rose in the back of your throat. This was no longer a flower. In it you saw the faces of your family's murderers. You saw there crude faces smiling back at you, urging you onwards.

Only there was a face. A face on the flower.

You dropped the plant as if it were poison - and perhaps it was. Yellow petals were discarded on the ground, a sick imitation of confetti. The butchered plant slowly raised its (head?) to look at you, flashing you a weak smile. "F-Finally," it murmured. "D-Do you k-know how l-long I've been w-waiting for someone to k-kill me?" It doubled over in a fit of hysterical laughter, sadistic tears rolling down its face. "You have no idea how much I've begged! I've begged each and every human to kill me, but all of them, they think they're kind and they spare me."

There was hatred in the flower's (voice?) now. "And she comes. Every day, she puts me at the brink of death." The flower was looking at you now. "Just kill me, p-please."

You stumbled backwards, letting at the few petals that were still on your hands. You let out a frightened shriek and brushed them off as if they were human flesh. "What are you?" you screeched and found your hand closing around a rock. You raised it above your head threateningly, expecting to bring it down on the demonic flower.

"Yes!" There was delight in the flower's eyes again. "Kill me!"

You dropped the rock, horror threatening to consume you. This wasn't a nightmare, there had to be something more to describe this situation. This was hell inside of hell, the kind of insanity that drove people mad after even the slightest exposure.

"Of course you won't," the flower sighed. "But if you insist, my name is Flowey, Flowey the flower."

There was an intense amount of heat as a fireball roared past you. Flowey ducked in just enough time to avoid being burnt to a crisp. A thick, green root emerged from the ground and wrapped itself around your hand. You flashed him a look of protest but he refused to look at you, his form quivering in fear. You couldn't help but share in it,as a talk goat woman stepped into view.

"Such an evil creature torturing such a poor and innocent youth," she cooed, her voice laced with sarcasm. There was some primitive hatred that had manifested between the goat and the flower. "My name is Toriel, caretaker of these Ruins. Come, I will guide you through the catacombs."

You reluctantly took a step forward, knowing that Toriel would probably kill you if you said otherwise.

"Not with that thing," she spat, narrowing her eyes at Flowey. The flower pressed itself against you, making a light (whimpering?) noise. You suddenly felt a wave of defensiveness for him.

"He stays with me."

"Now that, is a very, very naughty child," Toriel took a step closer to you, revealing a set of blood-stained teeth. A furry paw closed itself around your throat and you felt the life being squeezed out of you.

And then you died.

But again, you felt the small flame inside of you that refused to be extinguished. The world around you became contorted as you watched the previous events rewind in a story of slow motion until you found yourself kneeling in front of Toriel.

Flowey blinked once in surprise, as if he too remembered the experience of your death. You decided to inquire him about it later.

"My name is Toriel, caretaker of these Ruins," the goat woman restated, unaware that she had said this before. You droned out the rest of her speech, your attention focused to the sudden itching sensation that had manifested a little to the left of your right temple.

You lifted a shaking hand and felt your forefinger brush against a second flower. "Come, my child, let me guide you through the catacombs."

Again, you took a step forward.

"Not with that thing," Toriel spat once more. You exchanged a nervous glance with Flowey who gave you a reassuring nod, as if he too understood that he would have to part ways with you in order for you to live.

"Meet with me later?" you flashed a look of concern your way at Toriel. Flowey nodded an affirmative and retreated into the ground.

In a daze, you followed after Toriel, your mind far away, wondering what would happen once the flowers reached your eyes.