Darkness. Silence. Snow? No, it's some kind of static. This is what your vessel sees. Slowly, but surely, it's adjusting to you, after your "relocation". Your wonderful creation, finally housing you, the SOUL it was always meant to inherit. The static begins to focus into an image, and soon you find you're on the outskirts of Hometown, before the break of dawn.

Reaching up to touch it, your face is featureless, smooth and gray. But if you focus hard enough... a mouth begins to form, then an eye, then the other eye, but they only last so long as you focus on them. Your focus drops, and you're featureless once again. Having familiarized yourself with the design of your body, your move the long brown strands of hair from your face to the side and begin to move. Finally, you're in control.

The festival was supposed to begin today, wasn't it? Before Kris decided to lock you in the cage that you luckily escaped, there were plans to attend. Plans you could certainly sour now, if you so desired... And after everything Kris has done to you, why shouldn't you? Moving with a goal in mind, you slip underneath the police tape blocking off the city from the road west and gaze down the street of the town you've become familiar with over the last few days.

Step after step, you retrace the route to Kris' home at the top of the town. The lights are out and the door is locked, as they ought to be. You step to the side of the house and gaze at the bathroom window, far too easy to open from the outside after Kris left it unlocked the day he decided to slash Toriel's tires. A grave miscalculation, especially now that there are no police to stop someone like you from breaking in after his stunts over the last few days.

You hook your fingers into the rubber seal below the window frame and get just enough leverage to push upwards, and it cracks open. Now you slide your whole hand under and force it up, wide enough for you to climb in, so you do. Pushing yourself upwards onto the windowsill with both hands, you throw your right foot over and center your weight so you can pull your left foot in. You've made it inside, and quite silently, too. For a moment, you debate closing the window behind you, ultimately deciding it would be best to leave it open. This is a quiet town, and it would serve as a lesson for Kris to pay more attention to these things. What kind of "Angel" would you be if you didn't teach him a valuable lesson?

With the moonlight filtering in faintly lighting the path, you gingerly step step step towards the door, not bothering to turn on the light as you reach for the handle. You turn it, and the door creaks open. At first you worry about the noise, remembering how the sound travels in this house after the "fiasco" with that damned skeleton earlier, but you settle your mind on believe they both ought to be sound asleep by now. The next obstacle requires your attention more.

The stairs. They're sturdy, but wooden, and the shoes you have on... Actually, how did you get shoes? Come to think of it, where did these clothes come from at all? They don't look bad, but you're fairly certain they aren't what you "chose"... Nevermind, focus on the task at hand. You step forward once, then twice, and hear not a sound from the boards. You experimentally take a faster step, and still hear nothing. Rather than waste time debating your literal next step, you rise onto the tips of your toes and rush to the top, silent as can be.

As you approach his room, you grip the knob and... hesitate. If this body had a heart, it'd surely be pounding; Not for fear, but anticipation. You've waited for this moment for days, though it has felt like years. You turn the knob and the door creaks open, and you can see, with the moonlight filtering into the room, his shape under the blanket. You step inside, closing and locking the door behind you.

You hesitantly glance at the cage to your right, with it's door still open. You're something of a god to this world, aren't you? And yet this freak saw fit to toss you around and lock you inside of a cage. Perhaps it was some kind of sick amusement for him, or...

You're not given time to finish the thought as Kris shifts under his covers. He turns from one side to the other before settling again, though it's hard to say if he's really asleep or not. You don't really care either way as you step closer to him, until you're towering over his bed. With him facing the wall, you're not able to see much besides his hair. Your hands feels as though it moves on it's own as you reach to pull the blanket down, and now you can see his face clearly.

Odd. He sleeps soundly for a sadist. That pisses you the fuck off.

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Pub: 19 Jul 2025 00:03 UTC

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