Of course, Mettaton thinks numbly as the trapdoor opens. All the terrible secrets are hidden downstairs in the darkness, aren't they? Seven little coffins for six little bodies. Lost friends, twisted and fused into nightmares.
He suspects he knows who he'll be guarding, even before he starts to hear that laboured breathing. The real Barnaby has to be somewhere.
Still, the sight of him there, chained and bleeding, would stop Mettaton in his tracks if only it could. He lets out a strangled cry of horror through clenched teeth, even as he follows his captor into the dungeon like an obedient pet.
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Date: 2017-10-02 08:05 pm (UTC)He suspects he knows who he'll be guarding, even before he starts to hear that laboured breathing. The real Barnaby has to be somewhere.
Still, the sight of him there, chained and bleeding, would stop Mettaton in his tracks if only it could. He lets out a strangled cry of horror through clenched teeth, even as he follows his captor into the dungeon like an obedient pet.