Protoanemonin

“Mommy, where are the knives?”

Toriel’s eyes grew tense. Her eyes flitted around, her pupils darting from one end of her peripheral vision to the other. Even her fingers were getting twitchy. “Why would you need one?”

You held up a well-used wax crayon. The point had been shaved down to a blunt, straight edge. “You don’t have a sharpener.”

Toriel gasped and nodded. “I will go get one right away! But you are a child. As your guardian, I will handle and sharpen the crayon!”

You only needed to know where they were. You followed Toriel as she hurried into the kitchen. You were right on her tail, watching her every move. Toriel was smart and overly cautious. You knew better than to assume that the real knives would be found in the utensil drawer. You were proven correct when Toriel started to rummage through the cabinet above the counter. She pulled out a standard steak knife and turned to you.

“Can I have the crayon?” She asked you, bending down to look you in the eyes.

You were seething. You hated people making you feel small. By bending down to your level, she was making you feel inadequate. You would be bending down to tend to her dust soon. You gritted your teeth behind your tight-lipped smile and clenched your hands by your side. You handed her the crayon as delicately as you could. Silently, you glared up at her until she completed the job.

When she finished, she held up the wax crayon in her burly, white paw. You snatched it away and returned to the living room where you quickly hid your violent drawings in the waistband of your shorts and tugged your sweater far over your waist to cover them. Then, you marched into your room and shut your door. On the edge of your bed was a large boot that you had found amongst the collection in the chest that sat against your bedroom wall. You had found this boot for Flowey to take root in but he still refused to go inside of the house.

You ate your dinner with Toriel a few hours later. She told you of her errand run and all the monsters she had come across. You weren’t allowed to leave Toriel’s house and explore the Ruins. Toriel had made sure that you knew every rule of the house. The basement was completely off-limits, though you had been itching to discover what was hidden down there for quite a while. For the last four days you had been building her trust, trying to ease her into a passive state. You willed her to make a mistake in her meticulous trapping of you but none had yet to be seen. You were to stay within the confines of the house at all times. Any disregard of this rule, no matter how slight, would conclude with serious consequences.

You were to remain in your room at night; however, Toriel was lenient with this rule. If you told her that you had a bad dream, she would anxiously coddle you until you fell asleep on her lap. I use the word ‘anxiously’ because her mannerisms during her coddling seem inexperienced, amateurish, and forced. Still, you endured the odd treatment.

After dinner, you retired to bed. Toriel seemed slightly surprised by the earliness but didn’t complain as she watched your door close with a click. Once in your room, you pulled the sheets back from your made bed and tucked yourself in. Toriel didn’t tuck you in herself. Her thoughts seemed to drift aimlessly away from you when she did so. She had a child once before, you understood that from the pictures hanging in the walls of the home. The face of the child had been cut out of every photo but after comparing their physical similarities, you surmised that the child must have abandoned Toriel or died.

You could hear the sound of Toriel’s nails clicking down into the basement. You didn’t move until you heard the sound of muffled laughter. You needed to get Flowey’s attention. You untucked yourself with a grunt and went out into the hall, stopping in front of the thin window. You pulled it open and Flowey appeared in the garden. His eyes shifted nervously.

“What do you want? You know I don’t like to be out in the open,” He started. You grimaced.

“I need your help. You need to get the Save Point over here.”

“The Save Point?” He parroted. “Can I even move that thing?”

You nodded. If you could touch it, you assumed that other people could touch it as well. It wasn’t exactly harmful.

“What if I spontaneously combust or something?” The gleeful laugh that acted as a response to the concerned comment was met with a sigh from the flower. “Oh yeah, I forgot that you get off on that sort of thing.”

“Just bring it over here!” You ordered as the flower turned and disappeared into the ground.

He reappeared two minutes later, unrooted. He was dragging the Save Point behind him with one outstretched root. “Damn, these things are heavy.”

“You’re just a wimp.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m a flower. I don’t have very much upper body strength!”

“Hoist it up!” You demanded as the flower groaned. He wrapped four roots around the glowing object and lifted it towards the window. You reached out and touched the Save Point, overwriting your previous Save. (Knowing that your plan is about to unfold fills you with Determination.)

The Save Point fell to the ground with a clunk and Flowey moved his roots as you would move your fingers after a session of free weights. You looked at him expectantly and he growled out a short sentence, “I’ll bring it back.”

As he pulled it back, you returned to your room and twisted yourself back into the sheets on your bed. Once you were comfortable, your eyes fluttered shut.

You awoke suddenly. Your dreams had been plagued with thoughts of murdering Toriel. In every dream state, you would drive a knife into her chest and watch as her body exploded into dust. Not a peaceful mist of dust but a violent wave that coated your skin and clothes in a dull gray. Your body was enveloped in a cold sweat. You wiped yourself off with your sheets and got to your feet.

You padded over to the door and pulled it open quietly. You softly tip-toed out into the hall. From here, you could hear Toriel’s snores coming from her room. You nodded to yourself and continued down the hall. Navigating through the dark was becoming easier and easier for you. It also helped that you knew the exact layout of the house, with the exception of the basement. You walked into the kitchen and pulled yourself up onto the counter. You sat up on your knees and glanced at the cabinet. You were surprised to see a combination lock. It was a standard combination lock with a ‘U’ shaped shackle and a dial on the body with faded numbers. It was well-used. You could tell because the movements of the dial would stutter and the numbers were fading.

You took the lock in your hand and pulled up gently on the shackle. Then, you tested if you could move the dial while you held the shackle in place. Too much pressure on the shackle will make the dial impossible to turn but too little will make the dial spin freely. Applying gentle pressure will allow the lock to move and stop at the right numbers. You turned the dial clockwise until you met a bit of resistance at the number forty-two. Since the resistance is met before the actual number present in the combination, you add five to the number you land on. You reset the lock by passing zero a few times before entering forty-seven in as the first number of the combination.

Maintaining the same pressure, you turn around the mechanism once counter-clockwise. You continued in the same direction before the dial stopped at twenty-three. To find the final number, you reset the lock, entered the first two numbers and tested the possible combinations. The lock clicked open after the number ten. You smirked as you removed the lock and set it down on the counter. Finally, you opened the cabinet and stared at the knives that gleamed threateningly in the dark. The whole knife rack was carefully arranged but none of the blades seemed to catch your attention. You bit your lip and moved the knife rack carefully. Concealed underneath it was a butcher knife. It wasn’t exactly the most sharpened knife but something about it caught your eye. You held it in your hand, testing its weight. The handle was heavy and it sat in your hand comfortably.

You closed the cabinet and locked the lock. Then, you started the slow trek to Toriel’s room. You stopped at her bedroom door and considered your next actions carefully. At least you saved your progress. You twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open.

Toriel’s room was terribly tidy. In fact, it was almost too tidy. It was like she was trying to hide something. The room, like everything else in the home, was overwhelming. It was too warm, too cozy, and too breathtakingly earnest that something had to be amiss. It was stifling. There’s an old saying that your mother often told you, “The state of your room reflects the state of your mind.” If this was Toriel’s room, one could only assume that this persona she had created was oppressive.

You walked over to her prone form. Even her dark blue sheets, which matched the wallpaper, were starched. You lifted the knife and, for a short second, you wondered if it would do the trick. Was it even sharp enough? Had you made a mistake? You shook your head to clear your thoughts and ran the knife across her cheek. She whimpered in her sleep and an ash gray substance oozed from the wound. You knew Toriel wasn’t a deep sleeper. You wanted her eyes to flutter open when you ended her life. When they did, you smiled and rammed the knife into her abdomen and sliced through until it burst out from her right side, right under her bottom rib.

Her eyes widened and tears accumulated at the corners of her eyes. Her breath came out in ragged gasps and her voice hitched, “Y-You…really hate me…don’t you?”

Just like that, her body slowly fell apart. In her place was a mound of dust. You stepped back, horrified. You blinked down at what remained of her and burst into tears. You dropped the knife and fell to your knees. With a cry, you turned away from her and tried to console yourself. The outburst was unprecedented. This was what you wanted! Why were you crying? Your unforeseen tantrum was frightening you. Why was this happening?

“Mommy, it hurts.” You sobbed and covered your eyes with the nook of your elbow.

You had never felt something akin to this. This was a fire burning through your very being. It started in the pit of your stomach and expanded. An unwatched fire was always a dangerous one. You hiccupped and whimpered as the fire seethed and crackled. You were beginning to feel lightheaded. Your vision was failing you. Still, you managed to pull yourself back on your feet and collapse on Toriel’s bed. You slept, curled in her ashes as if they were a makeshift blanket.

“Chara!” A young male voice called, disrupting your rest. “Wake up, you pathetic worm! You’ve been latched on me for hours! You know I hate cuddling!”

After a particularly rough shake of your shoulder, you opened your eyes and stared down at the young goat-like monster you had pulled into your chest. “Finally, human. Let me go! I am the most horrible monster that ever lived! I, the God of Hyperdeath, have no desire to be manhandled by a fleshy bodied creature such as yourself!”

“You’re way too loud in the morning, Asriel,” You found yourself groaning. This wasn’t your voice. You didn’t know him! I know him!

You unwrapped your arms from his body as he bristled, the fur on his neck rising. “If you were waking up with your morning breath stuck in your nose, you’d be loud too!”

“Alright, Tiny God, say what you like!”

“I am not tiny! You insolent, little—”

“Asriel, hold your tongue,” Toriel scolded as she walked through the door. A playful smile on her lips. Asriel scowled and hung his head while you lifted yours. Toriel walked over and nuzzled her cheek against your own. “This human has been injured by your hand! I expect you to show a little more humility!”

“You’d punch them too if they insulted you like they insulted me, Mama!”

Toriel rolled her eyes, “No I would not, my child. I would tell them that I was offended by what they said and I would ask for an apology.”

Asriel scoffed, “That’s not what you said before the human came.”

Toriel glanced down at you and flashed you a smile. Her son grumbled behind her. “Asriel may be impatient, but he is kind at heart.”

“I bet there’s kindness deep inside his heart,” You agreed with a sigh. “Deep, deep down.”

Your antics seemed to amuse the mother for she gave a hearty chuckle before getting to her feet. “I am making a snail pie for lunch, is everyone hungry?”

“It’s lunch already?” You gasped as Asriel nodded.

“Golly Gee, you’ve been out for seventeen hours! I was clutched to your chest for nearly seven of them! I had to miss breakfast.”

He hated to miss breakfast. He always insisted to me that it was the most important meal of the day. You hopped out of bed and pulled your wardrobe open. Toriel had just had it made. You pulled out Asriel’s red and black striped sweater and pulled it over your head. It was too small for him but you were lanky enough to slide right into it. You ran out into the hall and turned to the left, stopping in front of the large mirror fastened against the wall to straighten yourself out. You ran your hands through your short brown hair, ridding it of any knots. Then, you reached your hand out and placed it against the cool glass before sighing and blowing an errant hair away from your forehead.

Your ruby eyes struck you as odd but you ignored the nagging feeling that your eyes were maroon.

You ran down the hall, your speed accentuated by your socked feet. You slid into the kitchen and watched Toriel cut the slices of pie while Asriel slowly made his way into view. As he passed you, he grabbed your cheek and pulled, causing you to yelp.

“Humans shouldn’t have this weak armor of flesh. It doesn’t help you at all! It bruises, scars easily, why would you even want it? You’re so low on the evolutionary scale.”

You tutted and turned away from him. “Are we going to go outside today and explore the Ruins, Mommy?”

Toriel paused in her cutting and she started to tear up, “Mommy?”

You gasped, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! It was a slip of the—”

Toriel hugged you tightly, startling you into a shocked silence. “It’s alright, my child. I would be happy to be your mother.”

Your grin widened and you laughed sincerely. Toriel had grown to be a surrogate mother to me while I was in the Underground. She protected me from any monsters with ill-intentions, allowed me to explore the Ruins, and she even read stories to me when I couldn’t sleep. Asriel was a heavy sleeper and it didn’t take much to get the boy snoring. However, I was constantly wracked with homesickness and nightmarish visions of nefarious monsters. She would hear my cries and hurry to comfort me with a new book in hand. Then, she would read until I fell asleep and even then, she would remain by my side until morning.

You sighed contentedly as Asriel grabbed his plate of pie and sat on the floor in the living area. You followed his lead and stuck out your tongue when he tried to grip your cheek again. You didn’t see Toriel’s smile falter, only to be replaced by an agitated grin.

The fire had faded once you awoke, shaking your head to rid yourself of the memory you had just experienced. You weren’t me but the similarities between you and I were almost otherworldly. You hastily climbed out of bed and ran out into the hall, placing your hand on the glass of the mirror just like I had.

You looked at your reflection with disgust. Your eyes were swollen and tear tracks stained your cheeks a dull red. Your face was sickeningly pale and plastered with Toriel’s dust. You had slept with your cheek against the mound of thick, gray dust, knowingly coating your hair and neck in it. Despite everything, it’s still you, your reflection whispered mockingly. The similarities between you and I were skin deep. The happiness that you had felt in my memory didn’t apply to you. You were an outsider viewing the memory as it happened when I was alive and in the Underground. Your memories were not happy ones.

Perhaps this was because you were never a happy child. You could live without your mother and father, you could live without the doctors and specialists breathing down your neck, you could live without phony friends or lovers. It wasn’t necessary to you. Causing these people to suffer brought you more joy than allowing these people to live their merry lives. Sentimentality wasn’t your thing.

Still, your heart couldn’t bear the thought of killing Toriel. Regret was something that was foreign to you. You never regretted your past decisions. You didn’t even bat an eye after causing your sister to lose her eye, your mother to be removed from your family completely, or turning your father into a raging alcoholic. They were just a means to an end. Your end. Whatever that may be. You had never had such an uncontrollable outburst concerning such a decision. You didn’t care about Toriel, you couldn’t be bothered by how she saw you.

You decided that killing Toriel and viewing my memory of her were two interconnected occurrences. It wasn’t just a coincidence. It was far too suspicious! With that in mind, you summoned up enough Determination and pressed the Reset button.

“What did you do?” You asked venomously as you entered the Void. I chuckled sympathetically.

I guess I couldn’t keep you from viewing my memories of the Underground. It just shows how alike our souls are. Maybe we share a common lineage.

“Who cares?” You laughed joylessly. “I want my mind back! I want my thoughts back! You’re ruining everything!”

I haven’t done anything. You just want to use me as some sort of scapegoat. It isn’t my fault that you’re being encompassed by my memories and feelings. That wasn’t my intention. This has never happened before.

You pushed your bangs out of your face in your frustration and growled, “How do I make it stop?”

Make what stop?

“Make the pain stop! I never want to feel that way again!” You bellowed and I smiled.

I assume that the only way to avoid messing with my emotional being and your own is to find a careful medium between them. You’ve tried…killing Toriel but that initiated the leak of my emotions into yours, causing that meltdown you had earlier. You’ve also tried being empathetic with Toriel and remaining with her, but that seems to cause your anger to peak. We need to find a middle ground that can please both of our spirits.

You gasped excitedly, “I think I have the perfect plan!”

Wait, Frisk! You need to consider your actions wisely! If our emotional states merge together, we may be stuck like this forever!

The world twisted and turned as you returned to consciousness. Flowey was staring up at you, an unimpressed look raging in his dark eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, shrub.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his leaves, “I’m not a shrub. Shrubs are woody plants, characterized by their many stems near the ground. I am a flower.”

Now it was your turn to fix an unamused glare on Flowey’s round head. You reached your hands out towards the ground and the three-foot-tall flower’s eyes narrowed. “Come here, Flowey.”

He shook his head violently. “Nope! I know exactly when I shouldn’t go near a volatile human! Now is one of those times!”

“Flowey!” You sneered, your tone of voice sounding more like a serpent’s hiss. “You better slither on over here and do what I tell you to do! That was our deal, wasn’t it? I could always drop you like the dead weight you are!”

The flower tutted and unrooted itself, hesitantly appearing below the ridge of the window. “What is it?”

You smiled softly and touched the flower’s petals. They were glossy and hopelessly bright. Flowey wouldn’t camouflage well unless he was among his kind. You were slightly roused by the idea that Toriel hadn’t found the talking flower as of yet. You knew that Toriel had seen your flowery companion before. She was one of the monsters that had caused Flowey to Reset when he had the ability to. Just as he had mentioned to you when you first met.  He didn’t need to tell you explicitly that Toriel was one of the culprits for his attitude when he was around the house spoke clearly for him.

You gripped one of the petals and tugged it right out of his little head. This caused him to scream uncontrollably for around a minute. Then, he whimpered and whined as you collected the yellow oil carefully on the petal.

“Why did—why would you r-rip out my petal?” He sobbed as you placed the petal on the ledge. He paled considerably. “You’re going to feed it to her.”

You nodded, genuinely pleased that Flowey realized your plan so quickly. “I won’t give her too much, I can’t kill her.”

The flower narrowed his eyes in confusion, hunching over slightly. It was almost as if he wanted to seem threatening, even though one of his five petals had been snatched and the others were fragments of what they should’ve been.

“My petals—” he paused, looking for the right words to say. “Th-they’ll grow back, right?”

“For a regular flower, it would take about two weeks in the right conditions. Since you’re a monster, I can only estimate that it would take less time than that. Honestly, this was an experiment for me too.”

He bristled angrily and disappeared into the ground. You trusted that he would return later with a firm handle on his temperament. You walked towards the kitchen silently, hearing Toriel’s voice flooding from the basement as well as a voice you couldn’t place. Once you reached the kitchen you grabbed a fork and a bowl. You mashed the petal into a pulpy substance and heard footsteps from down the stairs.

“My child?” Toriel called, anxiety filling her voice. You hummed and quickly opened up Toriel’s fridge, adding two eggs to the pulp and mixing it up.

“Mommy? I was trying to bake you a pie!” You murmured quietly, acting as if you were caught red-handed while drawing on the walls.

Toriel’s ears twitched and she smiled fondly as she ascended the stairs. “My child, would you like any help?”

You grinned as Toriel came to help you, she took over the filling from there. She demonstrated how to make the pie crust and filling without breaking a sweat. You filed the information away in your mind. You never know when you might want some pie. You and Toriel stayed up until late, watching the pie and discussing finer points in baking.

You smiled ruefully at the fact that you needed to poison the old goat. She wasn’t a bad presence. You just needed to get out of this house. You needed to get back to the Surface. For what reason, you weren’t exactly sure. After all, there was nothing waiting for you up there.

When the pie was ready, Toriel offered you the first slice.

“I don’t want any,” you mumbled as Toriel’s brow creased. “My stomach hurts. I want to give you my slice, Mommy.”

Toriel smiled, “Oh, thank you! That’s so sweet, my dear.”

She slid her fork through the filling, pierced the morsel, and held it up to her muzzle. When she took a bite, you held your breath. She paused, hummed, and chewed thoughtfully.

“I think it could’ve used more sugar,” She decided with a wink before she proceeded to take another bite. You guessed that the cinnamon and butterscotch disguised the bitter-tasting toxin that came from Flowey’s petals. However, they did not extinguish it. Toriel helped herself to a second slice while you were deep in thought.

You just hoped that the ingredients kept the sap moist enough. You bid goodnight to Toriel and retired to your room.

A few hours later and the moaning started. Horribly loud groans sounded from Toriel’s room. She was asleep but the poison was taking full affect. You only had so much time to spare until she needed to go to the bathroom. You got up from your bed and took the knapsack that you had been using. In it, you hid the boot for Flowey, a map of the Underground that Toriel had shown you. It was from a book but you didn’t mind tearing out the pages. You packed in your wax crayons and drawings as well as your old clothes. You wrapped your gray scarf around your neck and tugged on the hem of the black and red striped sweater before setting off into the hall. You made sure to shut your door quietly behind you. You proceeded into the kitchen where you entered the combination you had learned during a previous file into the combination lock. Once inside the cabinet, you took out the old butcher’s knife hidden under the rack and some tin foil. You wrapped two slices of poisoned pie into the foil and carefully threw out the rest.

You heard Toriel’s cries getting louder but the nausea must have settled in by now, making it near impossible for her to navigate her way out into the hall. Once she retched out all of the previous contents in her stomach, she would be fine. She may have slight bowl irritation for the next day or so. She hadn’t had enough to wound herself too badly, that you knew.

You closed the cabinet before dropping the lock and the two slices of pie into your bag. You slipped the knife into the waistband of your shorts. The cold blade against your back sent a shiver up your spine but it also made you feel safer.

Then, you made your way down into the basement.

The basement was a series of long corridors that ended abruptly with you facing a rather large door. The door looked unused and even had a thick layer of dust encrusted over its ridges. However, it needed a key. You cursed and ran a hand through your hair.  You were going to go bald at this point. You looked up at some purple tapestries and sighed deeply. Would you have to go back and look for the key?

You determinedly shook your head. Toriel wouldn’t have the key on her. That method didn’t seem to work to keep me in the Ruins so Toriel would try to improve her hiding places. You leaned against one of the tapestries and thought about where you might hide a key.

“Where would I hide it?” You mumbled to yourself while fingering the tapestry. “Where would I hide it?”

Goddamn it. Look under the tapestry!

You lifted the tapestry and were surprised to see the rusted key taped to the back of it. Interiorly, you thanked your genius. I, on the other hand, tried to keep my thoughts from gearing towards more violent courses when dealing with you. You tore the key from the tapestry and inserted it into the keyhole. Once you heard the door unlock with a heavy thud, you pulled the door open and squeezed your way through the narrow opening.

You felt the cold breeze once you stepped foot into the room. It caused the old door to slam shut. The breeze made you squeeze your toes together and shiver. You could see your breath coming out in hot bursts of air in front of you.

“Human!” Flowey exclaimed from the middle of the chamber. “Glad you finally decide to join me!”

You snorted, “It’s more like you’re joining me.”

The flower kept his patronizing comments to himself just as you managed to pull the boot out of your bag. “What is that?”

“This is your substitute pot, Flowey.” You replied with a sickly-sweet tone. Flowey recoiled. “I picked it out for you myself!”

“All the more reason to stay away from it!”

“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered to the flower, “or I just might rip another petal off you.”

He fidgeted and asked you to put the boot down. You did as he asked and he lifted himself into the boot. It was interesting to see his roots settle into the dirt that you had packed into the boot from one of Toriel’s flower pots. One of the roots gingerly swiped your hand. You glanced at the flower curiously.

“You didn’t kill Toriel, did you?” He asked and you shook your head. He seemed relieved by this piece of information. “You do know that your hands are blistering, right?”

“That’s because I got some of your toxin on my hands. The welts will go away with time if I don’t scratch them and I won’t scratch them if you don’t bring attention to them. So, let’s ignore them!”

The flower chuckled and faced forwards as you hoisted your knapsack over your shoulder and held his boot against your chest. Afterwards, you made your way out of the Ruins. You were surprised that the rocky terrain that was under your feet gave way to snow. The snow was falling overhead in a gentle sway that reminded you of the first signs of winter back on the Surface. Flowey smacked his leaves against your hands and urged you forward, which you gladly allowed. A snow covered bush to your left caught your attention and Flowey tilted his head.

“Now, that’s a shrub,” He snickered as you rolled your eyes and kept on your path. It wasn’t the bush that you were concerned with but the camera that was hidden in it. The camera zoomed in on your person and made you slightly uncomfortable. You tried your best to keep the fact that someone was watching you out of your mind but with every camera taped to a pine’s barky surface or hidden amongst a pile of rocks, you became more and more self-conscious.

The path ahead of you was framed by snow and large pine trees. The pine trees rustled as they were disturbed by the light breeze you had experienced earlier in the cavern. You hid your blistering hands inside the scarf but hissed when the fabric made them feel more inflamed than before. You concluded that the numbing wind felt better than the burning wool.

Flowey had quickly gone quiet as you proceeded along the path. The only sound that you could hear from him was the gentle rearranging of his roots. Otherwise, everything was silent. As you walked, you saw a large stick sprawled across the path. It was large enough that you didn’t think you could carry it by yourself. With Flowey’s lack of body strength, it was safe to say that, even with his aid, you would need someone to do most of the heavy lifting. Instead, you hopped over it and laughed when Flowey nearly fell out of the boot.

“That was not funny!” He sputtered indignantly but the damage had been done. “Human! I want to get to Snowdin by midday so let’s get moving!”

“How can you even tell the time down here?” You wondered out loud. “It seems like the only times of day are dark, darker, and so dark you can’t see anything.”

Flowey tutted, “All the monsters in the Underground have interior clocks. We don’t really need to express time like humans do.”

“Is it an estimation of the correct time?”

“When Toriel and Asgore both ruled together over the Underground, they sat at the edge of the Ruins where you fell until the sun reached its lowest point in the sky. From there, we concluded that it was early morning, Midday comes when the sun is at its highest, Evening comes when the sun sets, and Night rises with the moon. After that, it was guess work.”

“Who’s Asgore?”

“Asgore, King of the Underground. Toriel was his wife. She still loves him, I think, but he left her because she showed too much mercy to the humans that fell.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“Those are the rules of the Underground!” Flowey laughed heartily. “Down here, it’s a kill or be killed world.”

 “We have a saying like that on the Surface,” you answered. “It’s a dog eat dog world.”

“If you dust a lot of monsters, people will respect you. That’s the way of the Underground. It wasn’t always that way, though. Until Chara fell, I thought that fear was the only way to gain respect. They were a social chameleon, of sorts. They were able to blend in. They had convinced me that they enjoyed when I dusted other monsters. They were able to adapt to that kind of environment so easily without changing themselves in the process. They never took a life.” He paused, “It got me thinking that maybe everyone in the Underground adapted to this way of life. Perhaps, they’re all good people on the inside but circumstance gave way to the beings we see now. It gave me hope that our current reality could change.”

You smiled nostalgically and held out your hand to catch a lazily falling snowflake. “I got the same respect after pushing enough kids from my elementary school off the side of a hill. Everyone loved that little hill. Once I started climbing it, I became in charge of that little space. It became my place and they were trespassers. I would just sit on the hill for our entire recess period until someone came along and I pushed them off. Tell me; what do you think happened after a while?”

“Wouldn’t they try avoiding the hill so that they wouldn’t get pushed?”

“That’s obvious. It’s an inevitable reality. Of course the kids would stop coming over to the hill. They learned and gave the hill a negative connotation. I was asking you what happened after that.”

Flowey furrowed his brow but said nothing more. Taking this as his response, you pushed a stray hair away from your eyes and replied, “I found the next best place. The next day, I climbed to the top of the slide and pushed anyone off the jungle gym if they got too close.”

“What is this story supposed to prove?” The flower muttered, casting a glance to his and left and right side. “I already know that you get a thrill out of hurting others. My body should be a prime example of that.”

You sighed at the flower’s disregard for your analogy, “Good people aren’t the only ones who adapt to a given situation. Bad people do too. I wouldn’t stay on the hill because there was nothing to prove there anymore. I went to another place where the children swarmed. I took that place over as well. Now, what if there were many copies of me. Copies that had the same intentions as the original. If they were spread all out over the playground, the people would be trapped by their negative connotations. They would assume that because I am guarding a certain place, they shouldn’t go there.”

The flower nodded gravely and turned in his boot to look at you. “They would be trapped.”

“That’s right. When you’re only given select options in order to survive, people will do the worst of things in order to benefit themselves. One would eat their children if they had no food, another would steal a pocket watch off a dead body. All would sacrifice the less fortunate in order to save their skin. Especially if the choices were becoming slimmer and slimmer. Those children, trapped in the playground, would try and push back.”

A loud snap alerted you both of another presence. Flowey curled over himself, “Oh please, not now.”

“What do you mean? Has this happened before?” You whispered to the flower. You turned on your heel, ready to go inspect that large branch that had laid in your path moments ago but Flowey hissed and smacked your arm with an oddly arranged root.

“Don’t turn back, stupid! Keep moving forward! I’ve already tried that possibility!”

As you stared back towards the Ruins exit, you swore you saw a figure watching you on the path. This caused you to step forward uncertainly towards the being. Flowey’s eyes widened and his roots emerged from the boot. He pulled your face in the opposite direction.

“Run, you idiot!” He cried and you did as you were told. The sound of crunching snow, labored breathing, and Flowey’s mumblings were all that could be heard.

“Quickly, over to that bridge!” Flowey ordered and you stumbled.

“Hey! Who’s supposed to be giving the orders around here?” You squawked angrily.

“Until you figure out your way around, it’s my job!”

You reached the edge of the bridge and a state of paralysis overcame you as you stared at the bars before you. You couldn’t even tremble. It started as a spark of energy that flowed in from the tips of your fingers and ended as a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. Flowey tried urging you forward but from the look in his eyes, he understood this feeling. Your eyes wandered over to your chest where your red soul was glowing. What shocked you; however, was the red aura that surrounded your soul. You had never seen it before.  You heard approaching footsteps and a chuckle that reverberated from behind you. It was a low-sounding rumble from the chest that seemed to echo in your mind.

“Human. Don’t you know how to greet a new superior? Turn around and shake my hand.”