Every fairytale needs a villain, right?

[buttercup_eater]

[[Closed to dustless and sansational, sorry!]]

What

the hell

was that?

It's this thought that echoes above all else in Chara's mind, even after waking up in a chilly stone chamber that definitely isn't anywhere in the Underground.

What the hell was that- why SPARE Sans, why throw away everything they'd worked for, did the other kid somehow get through to them, what kind of stupid, pointless decision was that?

They mull over the subject for a while, glaring at the ceiling, before realizing their partner has yet to direct them the way they normally would. That... complicates matters.

The first thing Chara does is sit up, and in the process their gaze drifts over their chest, and they can see green and gold. They're wearing a sweater much like the ones they used to wear, Chara realizes. And when they look at their hands they can see that the skin tone and the shape of them has changed. These are their old hands. Except they can't be because their original hands would have rotted away a long time ago.

Right, first priorities first: Chara can still feel the locket beating away, and a cursory glance around the room reveals the real knife resting nearby. There isn't much else in the chamber of interest, so they grasp the handle and get to their feet.

Now appropriately equipped, Chara heads to the door and strolls silently out into the empty hallways.

They can still fulfill their purpose. There's always a way- they just have to find it.

Comments

violence and gore galore

[dustless]

Frisk is not paying attention.

Why would they? This castle has been kind so far. Nothing dangerous. Not really. S-4 and Sans-Serif were close, but now they're friends, so those problems were long since dealt with.

So their thoughts are more occupied on the reminders of Sans' party thing as they wander through the castle. Specifically, on the food. They'd had too much. Not enough to make them actually be sick, but enough to make them feel sick, enough that they were probably not going to have another dessert for a long time. (Other than pie.) But they're also getting sick of the stuff the garden supplies.

In short, they're just looking for a kitchen, peering into every door they pass instead of focusing on whoever's walking down the hall. The one they shared with another friend a while ago seems to have moved.

[buttercup_eater]

Chara, on the other hand, is immediately put on high alert by the sound of someone else's footsteps.

They come to a halt partway down the hall, still expecting that little itch in the back of their head urging them to seek out and to execute. Instead they're met with more silence, but for the footsteps and the sound of their own quiet breathing.

They feel uncertain and they hate it.

But they're confident- reasonably confident- that their partner would have been interested in seeking out anyone else who is around. They still have a purpose to fulfill, after all. And who knows, maybe Chara will get some answers out of whoever it is before they kill them.

They follow after the footsteps, resuming their pace from before, but when they turn the corner they come to a halt once again.

Even from the back, they can recognize the body they once shared. They stare, and words tumble out of their mouth before they can stop it:

“It's you!”

(writing this like a Normal Encounter is so weird)

[dustless]

Huh. This room seems to have nothing but a collection of horseshoes scattered all over the floor. They bend to pick one up, hefting it in their hands, and are surprised at how heavy it is. They don't have much experience with stuff like this, after all.

The sudden words cut off more thoughts of investigation before they can properly form. The words are oddly familiar, but the voice--such as it is--is not. They've been in the castle for months, after all, and the voice that helped them through the Underground hadn't really had a sound to it.

They glance over their shoulder. "...hello?" They stand and turn, still holding the horseshoe. In fact, they lift it up for the other kid to see, because this floor isn't even near where horses could possibly be. It's not the weirdest thing in the castle by far, but it's still unexpected. "Don't know why this is here," Frisk informs them.

Hopefully Frisk'll figure out that it is Not Quite A Normal Encounter in a moment or two. :'D

[buttercup_eater]

Chara stares at the horseshoe that the other child is holding up, not sure what all the horseshoes are doing in the room either, or why it should even matter.

They don't say anything out loud, at first, settling for silently glaring at the other child who's looking at them so obliviously.

It's them, alright, not only the face but the voice- though it's a little strange to hear it like this, coming out of the child in front of them instead of a shared mouth. (One reason, among others, that Chara hadn't cared to speak much to the monsters while they were out and about: Their voice had never sounded quite right while they were using the other child's body.)

"Why..."

They lick their lips, and grip the handle of the knife tighter. "Why are we here? What did you do?"

:'D

[dustless]

Frisk's hand drops to their side, mirroring the other kid's knife. They're certainly looking at that now, enough their matching locket isn't noted at all.

"...didn't do anything. Guessing you woke up here very--only--now?" Their thoughts are stringing together, but not quite fast enough. Sans said the person who killed everyone was them, or looked like them, so that's who they'd expect to see for the truth of the matter.

"You don't need that. There's no fighting here, even if there was...where you're from."

Before, they never saw Chara's face. Where they're from, Chara was (almost, except for near the end) never in control.

They don't know what they're seeing, even if their gut is starting to churn with an instinctive horror the sight of a knife shouldn't be enough to create.

[buttercup_eater]

Didn't do anything? But who else could have? Flowey? His Determination could never have been a match for theirs- or is it more of their... partner, continuing to just play around? It doesn't make sense, even their thoughts aren't making sense and the other child will see Chara's face twist up as though they've tasted something very sour.

There's no fighting here...

"Don't lie to me," they say, flatly. "I- We wouldn't be here for any other reason. Or are you just pretending to have forgotten our purpose?"

They step closer.

[dustless]

Frisk rocks back on their heels. "Not lying about anything."

...Purpose? What does that mean? Saving is theirs, they guess, or at least it was back in the Underground. They don't know what this kid--this armed kid is talking about.

"Don't know you," they answer slowly, even though it feels like a lie on their tongue. "You might be from my future. Lots of people here are. Or. Maybe a different timeline." As they speak, Frisk eases back. They aren't foolish enough to stand in place while someone advances on them with a knife, at least not without a lot of talking first and without knowing when and where their SAVE points have been, just in case.

[buttercup_eater]

Chara takes another step forward.

"Would you prefer misrepresenting?" they say. "It doesn't really matter what you call it, because you- and all of this," they gesture about the room with the knife, "-it's all wrong. And you do know me, or you wouldn't know about the timelines."

And then they'll suddenly dart forward and with their free hand, yank at the other child's wrist. "What did you do?" they demand again. "You made me think you'd disappeared, but you were planning on some sort of trick all along, weren't you?"

[dustless]

It's a painfully tight grip. Frisk gives a muted hiss and shoves their free hand forward, intent on pushing the other kid away by their chest.

Before they can get to struggling in earnest, they get a gleaming glimpse the locket and hear their words and oh. Oh.

Their expression goes slack. There's no way. No possible way. But--no, that's a stupid thing to think. Impossible is relative, especially here.

Recovering themselves, they give their captor a sharp look. "Wrong. Let go, Chara. I didn't do anything. You're not here," they say with a jerk of their head. Not nestled in the back of their with their odd humor and information and opinions and distant memories. "...Thought you disappeared."

Because they had. They were gone as soon as they said goodbye to Asriel one last time. Unless...

Frisk is distracted from their resistance by looking them over again. They never saw Chara's original body, not properly, but what they have now obviously isn't Frisk's shared one. Is this a really different timeline? Where Frisk fell first instead...?

[buttercup_eater]

Even if the other child hadn't stopped struggling, they probably wouldn't have had much luck shoving Chara off of them. They stand there, their jaw set, their gaze and posture as stony and solid as a statue.

"I am here," they say, missing the meaning behind the other child's words. "I've been here longer than you have. You relinquished your control after we cleared the Ruins. How dare you come back now?"

Now that they're so close, after everything they've seen and done? Just because they can RESET doesn't mean it's all erased. They can still remember it, all of it.

"You say you didn't do anything. For your sake, you'd better be lying." Without another word of warning Chara yanks the other child towards them and thrusts their knife forward, stabbing it into their torso and wrenching it out again.

"Because if you're telling the truth, you're in real trouble now."

[dustless]

"You don't ge--"

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.

[buttercup_eater]

Droplets fly through the air and there's a red sheen on the blade of their knife, and for some reason the sight of it startles Chara, enough that they drop their hold on the other child's wrist without even realizing it.

They weren't expecting the other child to bleed, and after the initial surprise wears off their first thought is... Are you an idiot? Of course they're bleeding, they're not a monster. They're just a human. A dirty, lying human.

Wide, empty red eyes return the other child's gaze. Chara raises their knife and rushes forward once more.

[dustless]

They almost slip turning to flee--but they're good at running, now.

The horseshoe falls from their grip only when they think to cover their wound. It takes a dozen steps to even start stinging, even if they acutely feel the warmth of blood spilling down their shirt.

Their third thought: Why? It's enough to get their mind rushing again.

A flicker of fear twists somewhere in their stomach, but the anger boils up behind where they were stabbed outclasses it by far. They don't want to die. They need to get to Tauriel, to S-4, to Toriel-- god, their mom, they can already tell this will be terrible--to get healed. They don't want to reset their progress, everyone's progress, they don't even know when they SAVED last.

"Stop it," they snap breathlessly over their shoulder.

[buttercup_eater]

The other child gains some impressive speed, considering their injury. But Chara isn't injured and more than that, they're angry, even if it isn't readily apparent from their expression. It's easy for them to keep pace, easy for them to swing their knife around in decisive slices.

"Fix this, and I'll stop it," they call out. They're not sure what they mean by fixing 'this' either. RESET, maybe? Can the other child even do that without them?

Do they care?

"I wonder..." Chara says, speaking in sotto voce, "Just how much EXP a human is worth."

[dustless]

The cuts sinking in their back hurt more than the one in their chest does. Their words trail off into whimpers they choke on.

Chara will see them shake their head, angrily, desperately. There's nothing they can fix, they didn't do this.

Frisk abruptly staggers off to the side, hoping it's enough to throw them off a little, get in another dodge.

Help, they think. Even if maybe they don't want anyone to get in the middle of this anymore.

[buttercup_eater]

So the other child's not going to respond? Fine, Chara can work with silence. Their partner wasn't one for direct speaking either.

...Killing another human isn't like killing a monster, however. The other child seems denser, somehow, and every time Chara's knife stab into their back the force seems to jar Chara's wrist in an unpleasant way. And it's slow, as if Chara could stab them a thousand times and not get anything out of it but some more whimpers.

The staggering does throw Chara off when they try and swing their knife at the other child again, causing them to stumble and throw their weight into a wall, which their shoulder smacks into with a nasty thunk. They press their hand against the wall in an attempt to propel themselves after the other child but their hand is wet and it slips, causing Chara to nearly fall, and leaving a dark red stain on the stone.

They grit their teeth, and silently keep going.

[dustless]

In their head, they chant there's nothing to fix. There's nothing to fix. Their voice isn't working.

Why is the hall so long? There's nowhere for Frisk to turn, except for into rooms, and they can hear Chara's footsteps between their own ragged gasps.

The blood is hot down their back, down their chest, enough that they're starting to feel it down their legs. They're crying, now, outright sobs rushing between their teeth, because this isn't fair--of course it isn't, but it's not fair to anyone what's going to happen next, that their promise is going to be broken.

It doesn't matter if it seems hopeless. Out of sheer determined horror, they'll keep going.

[buttercup_eater]

A sob breaks through the air during the chase, and Chara's eyes narrow. The sound is enough to get them to break their silence. "Are you crying?" they ask, "Aren't you a little old for that sort of thing?"

Their heart is pounding in their chest. They need to finish this, they think- they can see the blood soaking through the other child's sweater and their hands are getting sticky and the air reeks of a wet, coppery smell, so different from that of dust. Dust is tidier, they think. Why do humans have to be so messy and disgusting in everything?

Chara takes a quick gulp of air, inhaling more of the blood scent. It's invigorating even through the messiness of it, and with a quick burst of energy they leap forward to tackle the other child to the ground.

welp i thought i replied to this ages ago, a+ me

[dustless]

They slam to the floor, skull bouncing against stone, dots exploding in their already-shaking vision. Their mouth is dry, throat like sandpaper, everything else soaking and burning.

Frisk shoves their hands upward, one final effort to push Chara away.

They'll barely feel it. All they'll get is smearing handprints added to the stains on their sweater.

[buttercup_eater]

The other child's hands are light and pathetic, although it doesn't stop Chara from spitefully ramming their blade into the other child's shoulder. It sinks in with a slicing crunch sound and they jerk it out and raise it up for another stab. But then, their eye is caught by a glimmer of gold.

Chara's heart races. It's The Locket.

Except the other child is wearing it- and their's is still around their neck, and- there are only two like it and-

"Where did you get that." There's a tremor in their voice. With their free hand, Chara reaches out towards the other child's throat. They don't feel they're in control, but it's different from the way their partner would push them.

"It's not yours." Ignoring any attempts at struggling that the other child might make, their fingers curl around the locket and they yank. But it doesn't come off, so they keep pulling and pulling and pulling, but the chain is strong, just like it's supposed to be...

"Give it back." ...but they can't stop themselves from struggling on regardless, tugging it this way and that way, anything to pry it away from the other child's neck, and the think they hear something crack but it still isn't moving-



"Give Asriel's locket back!"

-and then the chain finally snaps.

[dustless]

Frisk wheezes helplessly, still shoving against their chest.

Chara's voice is wrong they can tell even then, but there's nothing they can do. They feel like they're starting to float even with Chara's weight pressing them against the floor.

Asriel.

Brown eyes stare up into red, uncomprehending. They know who Asriel is, they recognize the name, but he isn't here.

Why is Chara talking about him.

Why is this happening. Why is.

Why.

The heart-shaped locket is a blur of gold, leaving a trail of itself across their vision.

Their arms drop, hands pressing flat by their sides.

[buttercup_eater]

Chara feels a bit dazed once they finally rip the locket free, and they pause for a second to stare at Asriel's locket clutched in their hand, now smeared with blood. Asriel. Asriel, oh Asriel, they just want this all to be over already, they wanted it to be over with a long, long time ago.

Chara's gaze turns back to the other child when the light pushes and slaps suddenly cease. Their arms have dropped- are they...? No, they can still see the spark of life in the other child's eyes. Incredible, with how much blood there is everywhere, and yet they're still not done. How do they end this?

With a burst of determination, Chara digs their fingers in the other child's hair as tightly as they can while also holding onto the locket, and yanks their head back to expose their throat. Chara presses their knife against the pulse, and the blade slices through the flesh in a sharp jerk.

Blood splatters out of the wound and it's sticky and reeks of meat.

* You won.

[dustless]

Every sensation in the word narrows down to the press of blade against flesh.

But it doesn't hurt.

Blood sprays from the jugular over their already-soaking chest, wells up into their mouth from the inside, leaving what remains of reflexes to make their throat convulse.

There's one final effort they don't even feel. One final shove, hands flat cross the ground, pushing their body just a few inches.

Why is what is who is this is everything slides away.

They're falling again.

Frisk's eyes go empty.






It's...







peaceful.