Protoanemonin

When you awoke, you were lying on your back in a patch of beautiful buttercups. The bright mid-morning sun blazed through the sliver of light that you must have fallen from. It was a terribly long fall but, miraculously, you were alive. You blinked your eyes and slowly became accustomed to the light. You turned your head slightly to each side, giving a thankful glance to the giant buttercups that shouldered the burden of your fall. You sat yourself up and wiggled your legs and each of your toes within your sneakers. Nothing was broken or injured. You furrowed your brow but didn’t give it much thought.

You remembered the feeling of being suspended mid-flight, the gravity defying pull that had somehow made you weightless. Something inside of you was convinced it had been some form of magic but your unrelenting sense of realism pushed the thoughts aside. Magic didn’t exist, you thought stubbornly. The flowers underneath your body suddenly made you shudder and curl your lip in disgust. Once, you had found them quite beautiful. You abandoned such thoughts hastily as well. They didn’t seem like your thoughts, now did they?

Now on your feet, you regretted walking away from your backpack and jacket. Now you had no change of clothes, nothing to protect yourself from the rain, no cash, no way out. You cussed and kicked a rock a few paces away from you. The cavern was cold and damp. The sound of water dripping from the ice stalactites echoed off dark passages of the area. You needed to keep moving forward. You felt around for an edge, a wall of the cavern that you could follow with your fingers. Without your sense of sight, your sense of touch would be needed as your guide. You groped around blindly until you found the cold, wet, rocky surface. You recoiled at first; shocked by the slimy, almost frozen surface. Placing your hands against it once again, you clambered further away from the patch of flowers and deeper into the pit of the darkness.

Suddenly, the wall gave way to a beautifully crafted column. The column was heavily inspired by Ancient Greek architecture, resembling an Ionic column. It had been crafted from the rocky wall. A few meters away was an identical column. You looked up and even in the murky dark you could see what appeared to be a symbol etched into the top of the opening. You made your way through the opening and were surprised to see another patch of bright green grass. A single flower bloomed in this area, its petals were chipped and torn. Its bruised petals were a dull cream color in certain areas. From the most damaged areas, a pale yellow oil seemed to secrete like puss. You were looking at it from the back, since the flower was facing away from you, but you could clearly see that it was dying. Even its stem was extremely hunched over.

You approached it slowly but your footsteps were loud in the idleness of the cavern. The flower turned brusquely, allowing you to see the flower’s stamens and pistils. Two widened eyes stared back at you from where they were located among the pistils. You were stunned by the odd creature, so much so that you stopped dead in your tracks to stare at it.

“Why are you here?” It whispered so crossly that its mouth twitched. “You died. Are you trying to haunt me?”

Slowly, the flower seemed to turn its body towards you. It was as if it could retract its roots and set them at a different angle in order to view you fully. It laughed warily, its leaves trembling at the force of the sound that erupted from it. Its voice was high-pitched. Not nasally but similar to the voice of a male child.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” The flower protested meekly with a desperate smile on its face. “I’m not guilty, Chara! You know that, don’t you? I was a good partner! I protected you. I buried you in the flowers, I thought it would make you happy.”

“My name isn’t Chara,” you announced as you walked around the mentally unstable flower.

“That’s impossible. You obviously don’t remember! I’m so sorry for what happened, it was all my fault! But, I’ve been good for you, Chara. I haven’t dusted anything since you died. They’ve dusted me over and over again.” Its voice faded to a near-whisper. “But I kept coming back, Chara. I knew that you cursed me. You gave me these powers so I could keep living the horrors that you had to face!”

“I’m tired, Chara,” it continued in a weepy-tone, appearing next to you as you walked further. “I just want it to end. I want to get out of here. Like you promised. I can’t get to the Barrier on my own. I need your help.”

“My name isn’t Chara!” You yelled as you spun to face the flower. The flower’s face fell. Then, its expression twisted and contorted into a maddened grin that seemed to take up most of its face.

“Well then,” It spat. “I have no need for you. You could just die, you stupid human!”

You watched as a red light burst from your chest. A little red heart glowed above where your actual beating organ was. Little white pellets encircled the flower and seemed to propel from its very being. You gasped and tried to run away as the white pellets sank into your skin like bullets. You fell to the ground. The flower was relentless. It kept sending wave after wave of its projectiles. One sank into your shoulder, another was lodged into your spine, and others were embedded in random areas of your body. After the first few had landed, you began to feel numb. The strike that promptly ended your life was the one that had stabbed through the back of your neck. Your gaze spotted and you plummeted into eternal darkness.

Frisk! You have to stay Determined! You can’t give up…you’re the new future of humans and monsters.

As the voice faded, your eyes opened. In front of you, amidst the blackness, was a floating red rectangular frame. Written in the same bloodied color was a single word:

Reset.

You lifted your hand and hesitated.

 Why are you hesitating, Frisk, I need you to help me.

“Who are you?” You asked, clutching your chest.

My name is Chara. I’m your guide back to the Surface. Back to your home.

“I have no home.” You said and then a thought came to you. “That flower, it spoke of you. You died.”

That’s right. I have died. Now, I’ve been reduced to a spirit that guides children like you through the Underground. I haven’t been spoken to until now. It’s a lonely existence. You have a red soul like mine was but you have the choice to Save and Reset. It doesn’t seem fair to me. I should’ve had that choice.

“Look; I can lie and say that I’m sorry that you died but we both know that I don’t care,” you chuckled and I bristled.

That’s just what I mean! Your soul may be red like mine but your heart is black and empty like this place. The Void is about as empty as you are. An empty vessel, abandoned by the humanity that was once stored there. I had a dream to live peacefully among the inhabitants of the Underground. With your powers, I would’ve been able to do it! I would’ve befriended everyone! I would’ve saved everyone, even Asriel. You could change your ways, Frisk. You can save them!

“Speak for yourself. The only thing I need to save is the skin on my back.”

Can you really be that heartless?

You laughed bitterly, “Oh, that’s priceless. So cliché. The basic line to every protagonist’s dialogue. Oh, wait. I’m the protagonist, aren’t I? You’re just a secondary element, floating around and describing every action I make. Am I possessed?”

What?

“Am I possessed?”

I guess you can say that. I am attached to your soul. I’m attached until your soul times out and another appears. Since you have the power to save and reset, it is safe to assume that we’ll in this situation for quite a while.

You swore and clenched your teeth, “When I get back above ground, I’m getting a terribly painful exorcism.”

And with that, you pressed the Reset button and the world rewound.

You awoke in the patch of buttercups. Your pent-up frustration from talking to me suddenly made itself known. You held back a scream through clenched teeth and kicked your feet against the ground, crushing the smaller buttercups into a pulpy mess. You rose and marched through the darkness. Your sight was becoming accustomed to the inky blackness.

You proceeded to the next room where the little flower turned to you with a shocked look. You stepped up to it and lifted your foot as high as you could. No, you need to be a good person! You have to spare him! You smirked as you brought your foot down.

The flower screeched as you continuously trampled it. Over and over you pounded it into the dirt before the pale yellow oil from the flower’s body smeared up against your cheek. It was just a pulpy mess. With your frustration depleted, you breathed in and out calmly. You fell to the grass and lied down. The sun was shining on your face. You could feel its warmth. You reached up towards it, your arm outstretched. Determination flooded through your body as you summoned the little red rectangular Reset button. You licked your lips, pressed it, and laughed as the world rewound.

You woke up to the animated flower glaring at you in disgust, “Do you get a thrill out of this?”

You smirked. The flower could remember everything. “You killed me first. Had you spared me, perhaps I’d spare you.”

“You’re sick,” The flower concluded, turning away from you. “I know you aren’t Chara now. Chara would never attack anyone. Chara’s gone and all our hope has been placed on a demented child like you who has the ability to manipulate time and space! God, we’re in such a wonderful world, aren’t we?”

You did not appreciate sarcasm. “I could always kill you and not Reset if it helps you change your tone.”

The flower swallowed audibly. You had decided that it was a male, considering his voice. “Maybe it would be best if we forgot about everything that just happened and start from the beginning.  Howdy, I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower. Welcome to the Underground. You’re new around here, so I better teach you a few things—”

You were killed by a creature that called itself Flowey the Flower. Don’t you feel pathetic? Flowey, seemed oblivious to you mocking him. Instead, he cut himself off and looked from left to right. A constant surveillance of your surroundings.

“—But not here. We can’t stay here for long,” Flowey stated, his petals shaking. “It isn’t safe. We’re too close to her. All you need to know is that this place is inhabited by monsters who won’t hesitate to skin you alive.”

“Who? Monsters? Skin me alive?”

He tutted and his petals rustled, “Hopefully, you won’t have to find out. I can’t answer all these freaking questions right now!”

You walked ahead without questioning him and Flowey screeched angrily, “Hey, what about me?”

“I made the decision to spare you this time. That doesn’t mean you get to join me.” You growled. Flowey popped out of the ground next you.

“Please, I’ll be useful to you! You can’t leave me here!” His eyes went wide and he warily ducked his head. “I’ll be killed.”

That thought seemed to strike your fancy. “As long as it isn’t me killing you, I should be fine. I’ll be sticking to the terms of our agreement.”

The flower’s voice was breathy and his words were quick, “Human, I’d do anything!”

You hunched down to the flower’s level and smirked when it seemed to lean away from you. “I’ll bring you with me and you will follow my every command. If you outlast your usefulness, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

The flower seemed to shrink under your gaze. You grinned, careful to show your canines. You reached out your arm to the flower who seemed to release a breath he was holding.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Giving you somewhere to hang off of. I understand that you can uproot yourself. Attach yourself to my arm. It’ll be faster than you popping around everywhere. What if I stepped on you by mistake?” You laughed cheerily.

Flowey grumbled but uprooted himself and wrapped his stem and roots around your arm. They were so long that they extended until your shoulder. “Doesn’t sound like it would be a mistake when you laugh like that.”

Flowey’s presence on your arm was a whole new burden to this interesting adventure. Not only would you have to keep yourself safe, but this little botanist’s wet dream as well. Your mouth twitched at its upturned corner. The sound of approaching footsteps put you and Flowey on edge.

“Oh no, oh no.” He muttered, glancing between you and the darkness ahead. “Try and find a place to hide!”

“Are you in the same place as I am? It’s a clearing, open space. There is nowhere to hide!”

“Shit!” The flower hissed as it hid under the arm of your sweater. You shivered as the flower climbed up your arm and rested against your shoulder blade. The footsteps got louder and louder until it seemed like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest.

“Hello? Is someone there?” A regal sounding voice called before a large figure came into the clearing. “Oh my, a human child.”

The woman came forward and you were surprised to see that she was around nine feet tall, had horns, was covered in white fur, and had glowing yellow eyes with red pupils. Her words seemed to flow with the emotional disassociation skill of a professional surgeon; she owned a keen ability to announce the death of a loved one without remorse for the victim’s family. Her blood colored pupils zoomed around the patch of buttercups, searching for a third party that didn’t seem to be present. Flowey seemed to coil himself tighter around your shoulder. He was cutting off your circulation. You could feel the pressure building up but you couldn’t say anything without alerting this newcomer to his presence. Something told you that they weren’t on the best terms. Another thing told you that she would not hesitate to chop off your arm in order to kill the weed.

“My name is Toriel,” she said as a small, guarded smile appeared on her face. “I am known as the keeper of the Ruins.”

You suspected that motherly figures seemed to bring out the worst in you since you kept your mouth shut tightly. Toriel didn’t seem incredibly bothered by your silence. Instead, she made her way forward through the narrow passageways of the cavern.

“Follow along if you wish to find sanctuary, my child. You could always risk venturing out in the dark, if you wish,” she added. “Alone, confused, and at a complete disadvantage.”

Her voice trailed off with that thought as she traveled further and further away. Once she was far enough, Flowey slipped out from under your collar and shook his head.

“We cannot follow her,” he rasped.

“I do think she’s right,” you muttered. “It would be best to stay the night and consider other ideas tomorrow.”

“Are you crazy?” He gasped. “There’s no way that I’m going in there!”

“Then you can stay outside and brave the cold.”

He hissed as you started to untangle him from your arm. You grunted as he just seemed to constrict your arm a little tighter.

“It’s one or the other!” You declared. “Either way, I’m going to go inside, get some food, some sleep, and come out as fresh as a daisy! I could always add a third option. Let’s call it, ‘weed whacking’.”

You pulled the flower from his perch and placed him at your feet. He rooted and watched as you walked off after Toriel, a spring in your step as you thought of food and shelter. You heard the flower’s broken mutterings from behind you.

“Once she has you, she won’t let you escape. Don’t eat the pie.”

With that, he was swallowed into the earth as the cavern was as idle as before. The few things you could hear were the deafening sounds of your footsteps and the occasional sound of dripping water. The cavern paved way to purple bricked walls and a pair of stone staircases designed in the shape of a horseshoe. You walked towards the staircases but stopped at the appearance of a glowing light. It wasn’t bright enough to make you avert your eyes but it did catch your attention. You approached it with uncertainty.

Touch it, I urged you forward as your hand made contact with the glowing object. Suddenly, the Void appeared before you. This is one of many areas where you can save your progress. Do so at your own risk. If you’ve made a mistake before this point and you overwrite your previous Save, you will not be able to turn back unless you make a True Reset. A True Reset will bring you back to the beginning of your journey.

You nodded contemplatively but overwrote your file. (The Shadow of the ruins looms above, filling you with Determination.) Then, silence flooded back into the hall and The Void faded. A patch of red roses bloomed inside the middle of the horseshoe. You chose the left side of the staircase and ascended. A feeling of dread rose in you like bile but you swallowed this ill feeling and continued towards the next room.

A flash of white caught your attention and you spun on your heel to get a better look. An unanticipated hit made contact with your right temple and your vision misted over. You toppled to the ground. A lifeless doll.

Blasts of pain blared in your skull causing you to groan as you awoke. You blinked continuously to rid yourself of the cloudiness that accumulated in your vision but it seemed to encompass every corner of your sight. You started to panic, inhaling shaky breaths and releasing them quickly.

“Relax, my child. The pain will fade,” Murmured a voice but the hit had managed to disorient you so much that you were hearing an echo of the voice in your right eardrum.

You grunted in pain, trying to hush the voice. It didn’t seem to get the hint, “I am going out for a few hours so please remain in bed. I will be back soon.”

The door creaked open and slowly shut. You shifted your arms in order to sit up but a sudden fit of dizziness prompted you to lie back down and take your time instead.  A few tries and some mild cussing fits later, you were sitting up and trying to focus on the walls of the room you were in. They were a dark orange but the furnishings of the room were indistinguishable blurs. You rubbed your eyes. When you opened them again, the room was less blurry.

You removed the bedspread from your body and dropped your bare feet to the hardwood floor. Your vision was unreliable at best so you decided to rely on your sense of touch. You felt various pieces of furniture as you guided yourself along the walls of the room. This included a wardrobe, a shelving unit with an array of books and a photo frame, and a chest filled with shoes and boots. Once you found the door, you opened it and made your way into the hall. The hall was a bright, festive yellow. You scrunched your toes to feel the way the fabric of the carpet slipped between them. The home seemed cozy.

A little sound from the window in the hall caught your attention. It was as if someone was knocking on the frame. You rushed over and felt for the frame, pulling it up.

“Golly, how long were you going to sleep and worry the hell out of me?” The childlike voice of your flowery companion hissed angrily. “Need I remind you that you are my only hope out of this terrible place?”

“Flowey? What are you doing here?” You groaned as the little flower hoisted himself over the window frame so you could see his tattered petals. At least your echoed hearing had faded.

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here. I’m here to get you out,” He whistled. “This place certainly has changed.”

“How would you know?”

“Not your problem. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’, that’s how the old saying goes. You need to leave now. Can you get through this window?”

The window was far too long and thin to snake your way through. You told this to Flowey and from the sound of his voice, he seemed to snarl. He finally suggested that you should try the doors and see if Toriel locked them. He seemed to realize that if he tried to order you to do something, you probably wouldn’t do it. It was all part of your oppositional defiance disorder shtick. You kept your fingers trailing along the wall until you reached a point where the wall changed into a door frame. You turned to the wooden door and groped for its knob. Once it was found, you twisted and tried to open the door but it was locked. Flowey spoke up from the other side.

“All the doors in Toriel’s home are opened by a single key. A skeleton key. She takes it with her everywhere she goes. This house was built a long time ago so it’s obvious that she doesn’t own mechanism locks. She locked it from the outside when she left. Is something baking?”

Now that he mentioned it, there was a wonderful smell emanating from further down the hallway. The flower cursed as you rushed further down the hall. You passed what seemed to be a living room on your way to the kitchen. The oven was on. Inside it was a single pie. Your mouth watered.

“Kid!” Flowey called from outside. “Remember my advice! Don’t eat the pie! She’s almost home! You have to go back where she put you!”

Your breathing hitched as you ran back through the living room and felt along the opposite wall. Once you found a doorknob, you twisted and wrenched the door open. Familiar orange walls greeted you. You briskly marched in and took your place under the covers. You gasped and sat up, immediately realizing your mistake. You hadn’t closed the window in the hall.

It was too late now, the front door was rattling open. You settled into bed and hoped for the best. You could hear Toriel before you saw her. Her loud footsteps reverberated through the entire home. Your heart thundered in your chest. You pretended to be asleep and she opened the door slowly. As if not to disturb your slumber. She had obviously seen the window, she had walked right past it! There was no way to get by it! She was probably questioning herself as she strode in.

“My child,” She whispered feverishly. “Did you slip out of bed? Were you trying to escape? I put in a lot of trouble to get you here unharmed. I cannot let you get away so easily.”

She stood quickly and walked off for a few moments before hastily returning to the room. She walked towards your prone form and gently brushed away your bangs from your forehead. She sighed and lifted her arm away only to replace it with a pillow. She pressed the pillow down, blocking your airway. She pinned you down with one furry arm to restrict your struggling. Your legs kicked out beneath you uselessly. As you started to panic, you started to hyperventilate. Your body needed more oxygen in order to keep up with your panicked state. With the constant expelling of breath and the restriction of oxygen, you started to slowly lose consciousness. Your struggling limbs fell to the bed without resistance.

Toriel wasn’t in the room when you regained consciousness. However, here was a slice of pie on your bedside table. You needed to get out of there and fast. You sat up and tried to pull your hands up to your face but you were restrained to the bed frame. Steel handcuffs kept you in place. They gave you enough room to sit up but not much else. You struggled against your bounds for a few moments before understanding that it was futile. Toriel had you where she wanted you and that was where you would stay.

Then, you had an epiphany. You could reload the Save file you had made after meeting Toriel! It was so simple! Why hadn’t you thought of that before? Before you could muster up the Determination needed to summon the Reset button, Toriel opened the door and let herself in.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she murmured with surprise.  You watched her like a mouse would watch a hungry cat, wide-eyed and ready to bolt at any second. It seemed just your luck that you were trapped in a room with the hungry cat. “Are you hungry?”

You sat in a stunned silence. She took the piece of pie and held it out towards you.

“It’s freshly baked. My specialty. I even threw in a secret ingredient for you to enjoy.” Flowey’s advice flooded back into your mind. You shook your head cautiously. Toriel seemed offended by your refusal. She took the plate into one large paw and held the fork with the other. She cut off a piece with the side of the utensil before piercing it. Then, she brought the piece over to your tightly shut mouth. “Open up.”

Your eyes flooded with determination and you shook your head rebelliously. Toriel stared at you furiously. She pinched your nose and held it until your mouth opened to breathe and then she stuffed the pie in and watched you cough. She placed a hand over your mouth to get you to swallow. Your taste buds were repulsed as soon as you began chewing the pastry. Bile rose in your throat and you gagged against Toriel’s hand but she only increased the pressure. You forced yourself to swallow the piece. It tasted bittersweet, as if thick ash had coated your tongue and rendered you incapable of separating the normally sugary dessert from the acrid aftertaste.

You glared at the woman and breathed raggedly, “What’s in this?”

She smirked, “Butterscotch, cinnamon, a crust infused with monster dust.”

The last ingredient made your stomach churn. “What is that?”

She smiled. A smile as saccharine as the pie’s filling and as biting as the crust. “When monsters are killed, they turn to dust.”

Your glare fell from your face, completely changed into a look of pure disgust. A shiver passed over your spine as you gazed over to the pie in her lap. Her bright yellow eyes were wide with excitement and a nervous grin split her cheeks. She laughed. “It’s quite comical actually! Your reaction was completely expected!”

You wiped your tongue off with your sweater, trying to rid yourself of the ashes of the dead monster. As you did this, she took her leave, laughing as she walked down the hall.

You quickly mustered up the Determination necessary to see the Reset button and summoned it. You resisted the urge to throw up as the world rewound. You opened your eyes at the foot of the staircases leading to the Ruins. You fell to the ground in a heap of unease. Flowey appeared by your side.

“I can say a lot of things,” you laughed warily, “but I try not to eat dead people. That’s pretty fucked up.”

“You’re back in the past. It hasn’t happened yet, just avoid the outcome and create a new one. If you can’t make it through this one, let’s say Toriel is pretty tame on the homicidal scale compared to the other monsters in store for you.”

“Yeah, I’m going to find another outcome,” You promised, a dark grin overcoming your unease. “Let’s just say it might get a little messy getting to the right outcome.”

“I wish you luck,” The flower sighed as he dug back into the ground. You made your way through the narrow passageway.

Once you saw the flash of white fur, you ducked towards the left, narrowly avoiding the book that had knocked you out the first time. You jumped back, fending off the next attempt. Toriel drew back, dropped the book, and tipped her head back with laughter.

“I was trying to avoid this, my child, but you stubbornly refuse my advances. All I want to do is protect you!”

“You have a weird way of showing it, Lady.” You growled as she removed a butcher’s knife from the pocket of her robe. The red light erupted from your chest once again.

She scowled and lunged forward, gripping the knife with certainty. You dodged the blow and tried to land one of your own but Toriel was fast for her stature.  She drew back and, to your surprise, conjured up seven balls of fire. Toriel released them in a strategic fashion, aiming the first one at you while the next ones were released where you would be after you dodged the first hit. This continued for each strike until you got sloppy, barely dodging one attack and suffering a direct hit from the next. You blocked the hit with your arm.

You screamed as your skin began to blister and char. You were so enraptured by your injury that you didn’t anticipate Toriel’s next move. She rushed forward and sank the knife into your chest with such vigor that she may have torn your stomach in half. You blacked out after that but Flowey had filled you in. The unlucky flower had watched Toriel skin you, slice you up, bring some of the meatier pieces home, grind you up in an industrial meat grinder, and bake you into a meat pie.

You now found yourself back in The Void. 

So, I started after clearing my throat. Now that you have a full idea on how a fight works, let me explain all the details. As I have told you earlier, you have a red soul like mine. You literally where it on your sleeve for any monster to see. During battles, monsters summon your soul and you can see its manifestation over your real heart. You take physical damage during battles and when you are killed, your soul will be taken.

“So everyone wants to kill me,” you summarized as I hesitated.

Please don’t blame them. They really are just misguided creatures. Once they see that they have alternative choices, they will pick those! They need your soul in order to return to the Surface. Above, where every human thrives. They just want to bask in the sun again. Please, don’t kill her. Find a peaceful way around. I broke her heart once and, after that, she just wasn’t the same. She became colder and more desperate to keep her children.

You seemed to understand that I was speaking about Toriel, you tutted. “I make my own choices. I’m not just your carrier! I have ideas of my own!”

Soon my thoughts will become yours too. Like I said earlier, we have very similar souls. It may be possible that you will one day carry my times in the Underground on your shoulders as well. Maybe you will have visions of a timeline where you haven’t existed yet, Frisk.

“We’ll get there when we get there. You aren’t me. You cannot tell me what I can or can’t do.”

That’s true, I sighed. I can only hope that you will make the right decisions.

In the midst of another bout of frustration and ill-comprehension, you jabbed at the Reset button.

“What’s your brilliant plan now?” Flowey asked as you returned. “You going to try again? I got you a weapon!”

That caught your attention. Flowey tossed you a large stick. “Seriously? How do you expect me to protect myself with this?”

“It’s better than your bare hands,” he commented dryly as you begrudgingly accepted his makeshift weapon.

You tried to fight Toriel with the stick but it didn’t go over as planned. Instead it ended in quite a similar manner. You were prepared for the fire magic but Toriel had burned the stick while you held it, causing you to drop the stick and slow your dodging. Flowey waited for you just as he had before.

“I have one last idea,” You proposed, marching up the stairs. Flowey watched you hopelessly.

Upon reaching the narrow passageway, you called out, much to your dismay. “Toriel? I’m scared. Help me, please.”

A large furry paw was placed onto your shoulder. You glanced up at Toriel, who looked down at you with pity in her oddly colored eyes, “Come, my child. I will bring you to my home.”

She picked you up into her arms and carried you. You noticed that smaller monsters cowered and hid when Toriel crossed their path. This aided your cause since you wouldn’t be attacked. You saw Flowey every now and then, following you both to the house. At the foot of the house was a glowing Save Point. Toriel set you down and went inside ahead of you, allowing you to go and save your progress. (Seeing such a cute, tidy home in the Ruins gives you Determination.)

You entertained Toriel’s mothering tendencies for four days. You went to bed when you were told, you woke up when you were told. You kept yourself clean and kept your room neat. You explored the Ruins with Toriel every day and stayed away from the basement. You also made sure to keep at least five steps between yourself and the stove top and oven, a new phobia having developed after hearing Flowey’s recollection of you being baked into a pie.

The fifth day started like any other. You woke up an hour later than she did, got dressed, and ate breakfast with her. She avoided pie, by your request. You both went out to rake some of the red leaves that had fallen from the tree outside. Then, she told you that she needed to go out and run some errands. Probably to get some more food and clothes for you. She had given you a black sweater with a single red stripe through the middle of it and a hand-knitted gray scarf. You stored your other sweater in a backpack that she allowed you to keep. It had been in your bedroom. Whenever Flowey saw you in that sweater or wearing that backpack, he wouldn’t look at you.

“You look too much like Chara,” He had told you in confidence.

On the fifth afternoon, you realized that you enjoyed drawing in the living room, close to the fire. You enjoyed Toriel’s home, you enjoyed her mothering nature, you enjoyed the room, and you enjoyed Flowey’s presence. You realized that you were growing soft. You didn’t enjoy cozy homes and tight knit families! You had ruined yours long ago! Your hatred of the motherly instinct caused you to torture your mother for the whole of your childhood. You hated being cooped up in small spaces. You hated that little flower.

On the fifth afternoon, you snapped.

You waited at the front door until Toriel came home, drawing up a new murderous plan on red cardboard paper. When she entered, she was startled by the sudden apparition of your big, maroon eyes and giant smile.

“Mommy? Can you tell me where the knives are?”