They see it happen. It's a series of still images, one two three--the knife getting closer; the blade piercing through their shirt, through their skin; the knife pulling out, flecks of blood trailing it through the air.
They do not feel it. Not the pain, at least.
They look up.
Their first thought is: That wasn't like Undyne's spears.
Their second thought is: Run.
Adrenaline (determination) roars through them, and they throw their entire body backwards, eyes fixed on Chara's.
no subject
Frisk doesn't have time to finish their sentence.
They see it happen. It's a series of still images, one two three--the knife getting closer; the blade piercing through their shirt, through their skin; the knife pulling out, flecks of blood trailing it through the air.
They do not feel it. Not the pain, at least.
They look up.
Their first thought is: That wasn't like Undyne's spears.
Their second thought is: Run.
Adrenaline (determination) roars through them, and they throw their entire body backwards, eyes fixed on Chara's.
Get away. Go. Talk later. Run. Go. Go.