Chapter 1: Setting the Stage
Chapter Text
The year was 1923, and to be exact, it was August 17th, at approximately 10pm, in a dimly lit club in the heart of Ebbott City. A lively performance filled the air, drawing the attention of the patrons. On the stage, bathed in the spotlight's glow, a young woman commanded the room with her undeniable talent. Every note, every movement, left the crowd on the edge of their seats, completely captivated by her presence. It was an awe-inspiring display that etched itself into their memories. Among the sea of faces, another sat, his gaze fixated on you from the moment she stepped onto the stage. There was an enigmatic quality about her that sparked a curiosity deep within him.
As the performance unfolded, the figure found himself completely absorbed in her every move. Her grace, her passion, resonated with him in ways he couldn't explain. The music swirled around him, entwining with his thoughts as he silently contemplated the depths of his captivation. "What a performance," He murmured to himself, his voice barely audible amidst the applause. His mouth curled into a subtle smile as he savored the lingering notes of the melody. He took a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke that mingled with the intoxicating atmosphere.
As the stage lights died down, signaling the end of the performance, the young woman ran back stage and quickly washed the makeup off her face, changing out of her flapper dress into a modest grey dress. She felt invigorated after having sung for work, and decided to do something unusual; stay at the club, and have a few drinks.
She nearly skipped out of the backstage area and to the bar, her steps carefree and calm.
She took no notice of the red eyelights that watched her every movement, nor the red smoke that wafted around the ominous presence that the eyes belonged to.
The young lady had shoulder length blonde hair that laid in soft waves, green eyes framed in thick, blonde lashes, a pretty face, and a curvy figure to boot.
Her name was Eliza Black, and she was new to the city, full of hopes and aspirations. She had moved here merely 2 months ago in hopes of a better future. Now, she wasn't so sure anymore. Ebbott City was idealistic from the outside, but inside, was a cesspool of crime and danger, most of the city being run ruthlessly by various mobs and gangs. She had been mugged twice thus far, forced to live in a slummy apartment, and struggled greatly to make ends meet.
Eliza currently worked two jobs, one as a waitress at a small diner, and the other was as a singer at another local club, Grillbys, where she currently was at. She despised both of the jobs to an extent, but had very little other choices to make money with, unless she wanted to end up in the cruel underbelly of the city.
The lady hated the idea of needless violence, or of having to commit crimes to simply live. So she avoided anything like that with a passion, fighting tooth and nail to maintain the morals she had decided upon for herself. As she glanced around, she could see lots of men and women within the club of varying positions. There were men who were simply body guards, standing next to very wealthy looking men decked out in tailored suits and gold jewelry, with beautiful, scantily clad women clinging to their arms, laughing cutely at their words and flirting back. There were men who were obviously high ranking mobsters, various small time gangsters, and women who were escorts or wives to those men.
However, as she scanned the large club, what seemed to catch her eye the most was a large figure in a booth by himself in the back of the club, seated near the bar.
It was a skeleton monster. He was large in every sense, tall and broad, an intense presence even as he sat unassumingly, sipping on what appeared to be a whiskey on the rocks, and occasionally puffing on a large cigar.
A strange red smoke came from the cigar as he smoked it, and leaked out from between his teeth, which were large and sharp, giving one a mental image of a shark, or some other large predator. One of those teeth were gold as well, glinting in the low light of the club. The monster was dressed in a black and red suit, one that reeked of immense wealth, as well as several golden rings on his fingers, and a matching fedora on his skull. He had bright red eye lights within his sockets, and his face held a look of something between nonchalance and boredom.
Now, monsters weren't an uncommon sight in Ebbott City by any means; they had been intermingled with human society for nearly 5 decades now, after emerging from underneath the mountain that laid 20 miles outside Ebbott City. It was a time well before the ladies birth, and therein her memory.
As far as Eliza and many other humans were concerned, monsters were simply a standard part of life.
Even so, she stared for a moment longer than was polite, though the skeleton was seemingly unaware as he nursed his cigar.
The skeleton, observing from his booth, was intrigued by her sudden change in behavior. He had expected her to leave after the performance, but instead, she seemed to be embracing the allure of the club. His red eyelights followed her every move, the corner of his mouth curling into a knowing smirk. To him, it was as if she were drawn to the darkness that surrounded him, unaware of the danger lurking beneath the surface.
As Eliza approached the bar, the skeleton slowly rose from his booth, his tall figure casting a shadow over the space. He sauntered towards her, his confident swagger evident in every step. The crimson smoke from his cigar twirled in the air, leaving a trace of his presence. He positioned himself beside her, his gaze fixed on her transformed appearance, a subtle mix of curiosity and possessiveness swirling in his eyes.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to stay," the skeletal man drawled, his voice laced with a playful tone. He leaned against the bar, his proximity close yet calculated. "I must say, I quite enjoyed your performance. You've got quite the voice, sweetheart." His tone held a hint of amusement, as if he held a secret that only he knew.
He then took another drag from his cigar, exhaling a puff of smoke that blended with the dimly lit atmosphere, creating an ethereal haze around them both. "Care to join me for a drink?" he offered, his eyes never leaving her form. There was an underlying intensity in his gaze, and it made Eliza a bit uneasy. Eliza had jolted at the sudden voice and presence next to her, eyes wide with shock.
"O-oh, thank you, sir. I appreciate the compliment." She felt a bit more unease as she met his gaze, a dark intensity in his eyes that made her nearly shiver in a primal sense of fear.
"Uhm... Sure... I'll have a drink with you." She smiled weakly.
She noticed the red smoke coming from his cigar, and seemed very intrigued by it, but said nothing to him about it.
He smirked, pleased with her response, though her unease did not go unnoticed. He reveled in the effect his presence had on others, embracing the fear and fascination he elicited. As she agreed to join him for a drink, he signaled the bartender, his red eyelights never leaving your face. The bartender quickly approached, looking slightly apprehensive as he met the monsters intimidating gaze.
"I'll have my usual, and for the lady, whatever she desires," He stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. The bartender nodded and swiftly moved to fulfill the order, seemingly eager to please.
As Eliza observed the red smoke from the monsters cigar, her curiosity piqued, but she held back any inquiries. The skeleton, on the other hand, picked up on your intrigue. He took a drag from his cigar, the crimson smoke billowing around him like a sinister mist, smothering the space between you both.
"You're curious about the smoke, aren't ya?" He remarked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. He exhaled another cloud of smoke, watching as it danced in the air before dissipating. "It's just something I enjoy. Adds a little... mystery to the atmosphere, don'tcha think?"
Eliza smiled again, this time, a bit more sincerely.
"Mystery, eh? Fair enough sir."
The bartender returned with two glasses, one filled with Sans' preferred drink, a whiskey, and the other awaiting her choice. Eliza acknowledged the bartender, and ordered a fruity cocktail in a small glass.
The monster man raised his glass, a smug smile on his face. "Cheers, to unexpected encounters," he toasted, his eyes locked onto yours, a silent challenge in his gaze.
Eliza met his gaze and clinked her glass against his.
"Cheers!"
She then took a small sip, enjoying the sweet flavor as well as the warmth of alcohol.
His lips curled into a faint smirk as Eliza toasted with him. He raised a browbone in amusement at her choice of drink, but said nothing, taking another swig from his glass. His eyes never left her, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Mystery has a way of keeping things interesting, don't ya think?" he remarked, his voice low and smoky. He leaned back in his seat, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a cocky grin. "So, what brings a pretty little thing like ya to a place like this?" he asked, his tone filled with curiosity, though there was an underlying implication that he already knew the answer. Eliza smiled timidly.
"Ah... well, to be honest, sir, I just moved to the city about 2 months ago. I just happened to land the singing gig here by sheer luck, maybe 2 weeks ago."
She sipped her drink again, and repressed the anxiety that was steadily building in her, the instinct to move away from the skeleton beside her becoming intense as his gaze never wavered from her. The sense of dread and danger encompassing her was overwhelming, yet she pushed it away, as he had given her no reason to feel fear.
He listened attentively, his gaze locked onto her still, carefully analyzing her every word. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost intimate level. "Luck, huh? Fate has an interesting way of bringing people together," he murmured, his tone laced with a mix of intrigue and possessiveness.
Taking another sip of his drink, Sans leaned back, studying her with renewed interest. His sharp senses picked up on the anxiety flickering beneath her surface, and a sense of satisfaction washed over him. He enjoyed keeping others on edge, toying with their emotions like a cat with a mouse.
"Well, ma'am, if you're new to the city, you may find that it can be quite a dangerous place..." he trailed off, a hint of warning in his voice. "But don't you worry, sweetheart. I've got a way of keeping those who belong to me safe," he added, his words dripping with implication.
He flashed Eliza a brief, self-satisfied grin before withdrawing his hand and casually resting his arm on the bar. "So, tell me, Eliza, how does it feel to be under the watchful eye of someone like me?" he asked, his voice teasing and filled with an unsettling mix of confidence and threat.
She looked up at him, shocked by the boldness of his words, the implications he held in his voice, and her face paled slightly.
"Uhm... I... Th-thank you, for the drink, and company... But I think I need to be going now..."
She finished her drink quickly, and moved to stand up.
It was then she had a sudden realization.
"H-How do you know my name? I... I haven't told you my name..."
Her voice was just above a whisper, and her tone was confused and terrified.
"... Just exactly who are you, sir?"
She had a sinking feeling in her gut, that she wasn't going to like his answer. The skeleton grabbed her upper arm, holding her in place.
He leaned in closer, his breath caressing her cheek as he whispered into her ear, his voice low and dangerous. "Oh, Eliza, my dear, I know everything about you. I make it my business to know everything about those who catch my interest," he said, his voice laced with a chilling confidence.
"As for who I am, my name is Sans, and you'll do well to remember that it's a name that commands respect and fear in this city. And you, my dear Eliza, now belong to me." he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. His red eyes bore into her own, his gaze possessive and unyielding. "You will learn to obey me, to be loyal to me, and to give me everything I desire… or else suffer the consequences."
The skeleton, now known to Eliza as Sans, released his grip, allowing her to stand if she still had the will to do so. His smirk widened, his arrogance shining through. "Run if you want, Eliza, but remember, I will always find you. And when I do, the consequences won't be pleasant."
The room seemed to grow colder, the air thick with tension as Sans stood there, towering over her with his intimidating presence. Eliza was now seemingly trapped in his twisted grip, a mere pawn in his dark game.
Eliza paused for a moment, her fear subsiding momentarily as she thought deeply, wracking her mind for a specific memory; it was of her mother's cryptic warning before she left their humble farmstead for the city.
She warned Eliza to be wary of the mobsters and gangsters in the city, lest they take advantage of her in some manner, and to especially be wary of one in particular, Sans Gaster, the mob boss of the Gaster family, as he was a monster in every sense of the word, known for his sheer cruelty and tendency to be extremely violent.
Her face went white at the realization that the skeleton who was holding her currently was none other than that very mob boss.
"Shit..." She mumbled under her breath.
She tried to calm herself as she spoke again, a bit louder this time with the intention for him to hear her.
"You're... Sans Gaster, aren't you...?" She asked him with a feeling of pure dread and terror in her, fearing his answer.
Sans chuckled darkly, the sound filling the air with a dangerous undercurrent. "So, you've heard of me, have ya? Smart girl," he replied, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and pride. He took a step closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. "That's right, Eliza. I am Sans Gaster, the one they whisper about in hushed tones. The mob boss who strikes fear into the hearts of men."
He was visibly gloating, and enjoying the fact he was infamous and feared.
He reached out a bony hand, his fingers gently tracing along her cheek. The touch was chilling, sending shivers down her spine. "You see, Eliza, your path has crossed with mine for a reason. You're a bright flame in this dark, twisted world, and I intend to make you mine," he stated, his voice low and possessive, radiating a confidence that she would crumble under the weight of his declaration.
Sans leaned in, his words dripping with a mixture of desire and hunger. "You will come to know the depths of my power and the pleasures I can offer. Resistance is futile, my dear. You belong to me now, body and soul."
The room seemed to close in around her, the weight of his presence suffocating. The reality of Eliza's situation hit her like a freight train as she realized the true danger she was in. But nonetheless, Eliza chose to brush aside her fears, refusing to allow him to bully her into submission. After all, she hadn't allowed it from any other man before; what would make this one any different?
She fixed her gaze on the empty glass in front of her, staring silently for several long seconds.
Finally, she stood, throwing her shoulders back in an attempt to appear and feel more confident than she truly was, as terror gripped her internally despite her attempts to crush it.
She met his gaze once more, a fiery look of defiance and strength of will in her eyes.
"It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Gaster, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening." Her tone was cold and left no room for debate. She then pushed her chair to the table, and moved to begin walking away. Sans watched her with an amused smirk on his face as she tried to assert herself. He stayed rooted to his spot, his red eyelights glimmering with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Well, well, Eliza," he said, his voice filled with a dark amusement. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But don't think you can just walk away from me so easily." As she made her way towards the exit, Sans swiftly moved, cutting off her path with a flash of movement. He stood tall, his imposing figure blocking Elizas escape. His presence felt suffocating, daring her to defy him.
"You're in my world now, Eliza," he spoke, his voice soft yet commanding. "And I make the rules. You can try to run, but I assure you, there's nowhere you can hide from me. So, why don't you save yourself the trouble and accept your place by my side?"
He extended a hand towards her, his gaze unyielding yet tinged with something resembling anticipation. "Join me willingly, Eliza. Defy me, and you'll have no choice but to face my wrath."
Eliza's cool look of defiance turned quickly into a vicious sneer.
"No. I'm not going to do anything of the sorts, sir. I'm going home, and that is the end of this."
She refused to allow herself to be bullied by the skeleton, irregardless of his wealth, his danger, his power.
She scoffed at his vague threat.
"Wrath? What are you gonna do? Try and slap me around til I do what you want? News flash, you wouldn't be the first to do so, and wouldn't be the first to fail to break me either." Her voice dripped with venomous defiance and annoyance. Her fear was long gone, the flames of her own anger consuming her rapidly.
Sans was taken aback by her defiant response, his smirk fading for a moment. He hadn't expected such resistance from her, and there was a glimmer of something akin to surprise in his eyes. However, it was quickly replaced by a dangerous glint as his patience wore thin.
"You have quite the mouth on you, Eliza," he said through gritted teeth, his voice filled with a venomous edge. His aura turned more threatening, the room growing colder with his growing anger. "I suggest you watch your tone, girl. I won't hesitate to teach you a lesson if you continue to test my patience."
He took a step closer, his towering figure looming over you. "But I suppose defiance is to be expected. Such spirit will make breaking you all the more entertaining," he added with a dark chuckle. His eyes bore into Elizas, his expression turning twisted and malevolent.
"Mark my words, Eliza. You will come to understand the futility of resistance. You will learn to cower before me and beg for my mercy. And when I've broken you, you will be mine, body and soul."
With a final icy glare, Sans stepped back, allowing her to continue on her chosen path. But the threat in his words lingered in the air, a chilling reminder of the dangerous game she had unwittingly become a part of.
Eliza's glare hardened, her eyes narrowing even as Sans stepped out of her pathway. She stayed rooted in place, her eyes boring into his own, and the air between the two of them was thick and tense. It held an unspoken promise of fierce defiance, and Eliza's refusal to yield to Sans will.
Finally, after several long moments, she stormed out of he club, and rushed home to the dingy, small apartment she called home.
Chapter 2: A Macabre Dance
Notes:
Hello! Enjoy chapter 2 guys! Feel free to leave any comments or critiques in the comment section!
Chapter Text
Sans watched as Eliza stormed out of the club, a mixture of frustration and intrigue evident on his face. He had expected her to cave under his pressure, to submit to his desires, but her defiance had sparked a newfound interest within him. It was clear she was not like the others he had encountered before. As Eliza disappeared from view, Sans remained standing there for a moment, lost in thought. He knew that this would be no ordinary pursuit; she was a challenge, and he relished in the prospect of breaking her spirit. A dangerous smirk played at the corner of his skeletal lips as he turned to rejoin the festivities, his mind already plotting his next move.
In the days that followed, Sans would continue his relentless pursuit of Eliza. His presence would linger in the shadows, always watching, always waiting for an opportunity to strike. The tension between the two of them would grow stronger with each passing day, pushing both of them to the brink. But as much as he intended to break her, he couldn't deny the strange sense of exhilaration that came from the chase. Eliza had unwittingly become a game for him, a challenge that ignited a fire within his dark soul. And Sans, being the relentless mobster that he was, would stop at nothing to claim her as his own, no matter the cost.
Eliza soon became deeply frustrated with Sans persistent stalking. Seeing him simply lurking nearby as she went to the store, walking down the street, and eventually returning to work at the cafe a few days later nearly drove her mad. On the seventh day, he appeared in the diner she worked at, under the guise of simply ordering a coffee. She nearly tore through her notepad with her pen in her anger, her eyes cold and furious as he grinned at her.
He smirked triumphantly as she served his coffee to him, her teeth ground together as she forced out an irritated,"enjoy your drink, sir." She contemplated 'tripping' and dumping the hot beverage all over him, but decided against it.
She sighed in relief when she was able to dart away to the kitchen, tossing her apron aside and heading out the back door storming off to her apartment, which seemed to be her final place of solitude. "Stupid asshole, stupid job, stupid, stupid, stupid!" She growled under her breath as she retreated to her small home.
Tonight she would be singing again at the club, and she silently prayed the skeletal man wouldn't be at the nightclub again. Alas, her prayers went unheard, and this is where things seemed to come to a boiling point between them.
Eliza entered the club, ready to get to work, and get herself dolled up for her turn singing. It seemed to be one of her only solaces anymore, the only time her mind was free and without worry being when she was on the stage singing. She waved cheerily to the manager of he club, who looked nervous. When he approached her, he nervously announced that she…was no longer employed. Eliza was stunned into silence for several moments, before asking why. The manager shook his head and simply said a single, almost cryptic phrase. 'the Boss said to do it. Can't say no to the Boss.' She immediately knew what had happened, as she realized who owned the club. She whipped around and scanned the crowd, catching sight of Sans in the same booth he had sat in the first night they met, a knowing smirk on his face, and several armed gangsters near him, presumably men who worked for him. She stomped over to him, her usually well contained anger threatening to begin bubbling over. It was well known to Eliza's close family she had a horrible temper, especially as a child. It has taken several years of self discipline to learn to tame herself, and the fact she was losing control so easily due to Sans worried her, not only for the loss of self control, but due to the fact she knew the mobster could kill her very, very easily if he felt the desire to do so. She stopped a mere foot from Sans, glowering at him with a hateful stare. She spoke directly to Sans, her tone condescending and sarcastic.
"Well, I just heard from the manager, that apparently the 'Boss' fired me. Wouldn't know anything bout that, by chance would ya?" She ignored the men around Sans completely.
Sans chuckled, an unsettling sound that sent a chill down her spine. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on Eliza with a predatory gleam. "Oh, Eliza, my dear," he said with a mocking tone. "You seem to have misunderstood our arrangement. You see, I own this place, and I decide who stays and who goes. And in your case, I've decided that it's time for you to leave."
Eliza narrowed her eyes in annoyance, and snarked at him once more. "Oh? Is it customary for you to need armed guards when firing someone, or am I just a special case?"
He gestured towards the armed men behind him. "Them? These gentlemen here are just ensuring everything goes smoothly. Can't have any... complications, now can we?" The smirk on his face widened as he observed her rising anger. The fact that she was losing control only seemed to amuse him further, like a cat toying with its prey.
"The only complications you're about to have is figuring out how to remove my foot from your boney ass!" She snapped angrily, pointing a finger at Sans, and noting the shocked and incredulous looks the gangsters shared amongst themselves. They didn't seem to know how to handle someone being so outspoken and bold towards the mob boss that employed them. Sans, however, was merely amused.
"You really have a way with words, Eliza," he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "Such fire and passion. But I'm afraid it won't save you. You've always been mine, from the moment I saw you, and now it's time for you to accept that." The armed men took a step forward, their presence looming over the lady. Sans leaned in closer, leaning his chin against one hand, his voice lower and more dangerous. "Now, I could make this process much more... unpleasant, but I'd rather you come willingly. So, what do you say, Eliza? Will you submit? Or will I have to show you just how ruthless I can be?"
She grit her teeth angrily, hissing her words through them.
"How dare you!? You... You... You absolute jackass!"
She was absolutely fuming.
"First you fire me, and now you have the fucking audacity to try and threaten me with a handful of bozos with guns?" Her tone turned painfully sarcastic. "Gee, Mr. Gaster, you really know how to make a lady feel special, don't ya?"
Sans laughed, the sound echoing through the club. The armed men beside him shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to react to her mounting anger. But Sans remained unfazed, his smirk never faltering.
"Oh, Eliza, my dear," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "I never said I needed a handful of bozos with guns to deal with you. But it's always good to have a little insurance, isn't it?"
Eliza frowned, almost insulted by his arrogance and frankly lazy demeanor. "Tch... You too scared to dirty your own hands, Mr. Gaster? Gotta hire some greasy morons to do it for you?"
He leaned back in his seat, his eyes glinting with amusement, ignoring the jab at his pride her words were trying to inflict. "You've always been a feisty one, haven't you? That's what drew me to you in the first place. But make no mistake, your defiance will come at a cost."
Sans gestured towards the stage where she used to perform, now vacant. "You see, Eliza, you're going to learn a lesson today. A lesson in obedience. And I have just the way to teach you."
As he finished speaking, Sans nodded at the armed men, signaling them to move. They approached her with purpose, their hands gripping their weapons tightly. It was clear that Sans was prepared to make good on his threats, no matter the consequences. But beneath the anger and fear, a flicker of defiance still burned within her. Eliza glared coldly at the men as they took a step forward, then shifted her gaze back to Sans.
"Fuck you, Sans Gaster. I'll find a job somewhere else. This isn't the only shitty nightclub in the city after all." Eliza was trying to insult and anger him now, trying to find some kind of jab to throw at him and disarm him of his arrogance.
She turned on her heel and started to leave, but as she tried to turn and leave, the armed men moved swiftly to block her path, their expressions grim and determined. Sans, however, remained seated, seemingly unfazed by her words. His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in his gaze.
"Oh, Eliza, my dear," he said calmly, his voice laced with a subtle cruelty. "I'm afraid it's not as simple as finding another job. You see, I have certain... connections that extend throughout the city's nightlife. Even if you managed to find employment elsewhere, I can assure you, it won't be a smooth ride." Sans stood up slowly, his towering figure casting a looming shadow over her easily. He was a staggering 7 foot tall, at minimum, where as Eliza was a mere 5 and a half feet tall. He regarded her with a mix of amusement and malice. "But if you insist on leaving, by all means. Walk away. Enjoy the temporary freedom you believe you have. But remember, Eliza, you belong to me now. And I always get what I want."
His words carried a chilling weight, solidifying the grim reality of the situation. The room seemed to close in around her as desperation seeped into her very bones. The walls of the nightclub, once a safe haven for expression and escape, now felt like a prison closing in on Eliza. She was trapped, caught in Sans' web of power and influence. And as she glanced back at him, feeling the weight of his gaze upon her, she couldn't help but wonder just how far he was willing to go to keep her within his grasp.
Eliza's hands twitched at her sides as she turned from the gangsters to face Sans directly again. His threats only angered her more and more. How dare he? Why did he think he could do this to her? She hadn't done anything to him, she was just trying to exist and survive in an unforgiving city. Finally, as he towered over her, seemingly trying to use his massive size to his advantage and intimidate her, the tightly strung thread of her anger snapped. Before she could think better of it or stop herself, her left hand swung out and made contact with his right cheek in a sharp slap. The sound reverberated through the club, and all the other patrons of the club, who had been sneakily watching the situation unfold with a mix of curiosity, anxiety, and awe, became deadly silent, before scurrying out quickly, leaving Eliza alone with Sans and the handful of gangsters he employed. The gangsters glanced at each other nervously, unsure of how to react to her audacity. As for Sans, a stunned expression briefly flickered across his face before it was replaced with a dark, dangerous smile. He slowly brought his hand up to touch the spot where she had struck him, his gaze never leaving her eyes.
"Well, well, Eliza," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You've got quite the spirit in you, don't you?"
The gangsters remained still, waiting for Sans' command. But he held up his hand, his gaze never leaving the lady in front of him. "Leave us," he ordered them coldly. Reluctantly, the gangsters obeyed, exiting the club and leaving the two of them alone in the aftermath of her act of defiance. The tension in the room was palpable, the air crackling with an electric energy.
Sans stepped closer to her, his towering figure now even more imposing. Yet, despite the anger that flickered in his eyes, a twisted amusement danced behind them.
Chapter 3: Winning the Battle
Chapter Text
Eliza stood tall, knowing she wasn't going down without a fight; quite literally.
As the men inched forward, she whipped around and swung her first mercilessly at the nearest man, socking him right in the mouth and busting his lip, blood pouring out nearly instantly. Eliza winced, as her knuckles had caught his teeth and were also bleeding slightly now as well.
But nonetheless she powered on with a rage filled scream, and went to throw another punch at whatever person was closest, consequences be damned.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through Eliza's veins as her fist connected with the next henchman's face, the crack of impact echoing through the room. The man staggered back, a mixture of shock and anger twisting his features. Eliza's own knuckles throbbed in pain, a testament to the force of her strike. The chaos and fury unraveled as Eliza unleashed another screech, her fist swinging towards the next target that dared to approach. Her movements were ferocious and unyielding, driven by her burning rage and a desperate need to defend herself. One by one, the henchmen reeled from her blows, some falling to the ground under the weight of her brutal assault. The room filled with a chaotic symphony of grunts and curses as Eliza fought tooth and nail to prove that she would not be a pawn in Sans' twisted game. Sans, his eyes simmering with a mixture of surprise and fury, watched the spectacle unfold before him. The mobster hadn't expected such resistance, such defiance from someone he had deemed so insignificant. But even as his meticulously laid plans were unraveled, an unsettling smile crept across his face, as if he reveled in the chaos. Eliza's actions had consequences, both in the immediate and for what was to come. The henchmen, though momentarily disoriented by her counterattack, were determined to subdue her. The air crackled with tension as they regrouped, closing in with renewed determination and a readiness to unleash their own brand of violence. Eliza was almost animalistic in her attacks, simply going for blood on anyone who dared approach her. But in her blind fury, she failed to see a handful of the henchmen creeping up behind her, as one slammed the butt of his gun against her head, nearly knocking her unconscious. She fell to the floor, sprawled out in an undignified manner, a soft groan escaping her lips.
She had various other minor bruises and scrapes from the fight along her arms and shoulders. She laid on the floor, reeling in pain, and disoriented by the blow to the back of her skull. She blinked blearily, her vision struggling to focus, the edges of it dark and threatening her with fully succumbing to the sleep that was trying to take her currently. As Eliza groaned on the floor, Sans stared down at her with a mix of amusement and disdain. He watched with a twisted satisfaction as she struggled to regain her composure amidst the pain and disorientation.
"Well, well, well," Sans drawled, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. "Looks like you've bitten off more than you can chew, doll. But don't worry, this is just the beginning."
He circled her like a predator, his steps deliberate and menacing, relishing in the power he held over her now. His red eyes gleamed with sadistic delight as he witnessed her weakened state, her defiant spirit struggling to break free.
"You thought you could defy me, challenge me? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what kind of game you've found yourself in," Sans taunted, his voice laced with a cold amusement. "But I have to admit, I'm impressed. Not many have the audacity to fight back against me. You've earned a special place in my plans." He extended a hand towards her, his fingers adorned with gleaming golden rings, remnants of his ostentatious display of power. A cruel grin played at the corners of his mouth as he continued, reveling in her suffering.
"But enough with pleasantries, darling. I have bigger plans for you. You are mine now, body, mind, and soul. And I assure you, I will break you until there is nothing left but a shell, completely at my mercy if I must." Sans' sadistic dominance hung heavy in the air as he stood over Eliza, his power and control asserting itself with every word. The pain and fear that coursed through her body were nothing compared to the threat of torment that lay ahead, a dark journey that would test her strength and will to their limits. Eliza panted on the floor, pain flowing through her now exhausted body. She mumbled incoherently, and glanced up at Sans with half lidded eyes, a dazed look in her expression. She then weakly crooked a finger at him, motioning for him to lean down towards her, as if she wanted to say something to him. Sans arched a brow in mild curiosity as Eliza weakly motioned for him to lean down towards her. His sadistic grin widened slightly as he obliged, crouching down to bring himself closer to her level, his face mere inches away from her dazed expression.
"What's this, sweetheart? Do you have something to say to me?" he taunted, his voice laced with condescension and amusement. "Speak up now, because this might be your last chance to have a voice." Sans watched her intently, anticipation glimmering in his eyes. He relished the thought of her trying to muster some form of defiance in her weakened state, eager to witness the futile struggle of someone who had dared to challenge him. Eliza slowly propped herself up on her elbows, her face now eye to eye level with Sans. She had bitten her tongue when she fell to the floor, and had a mouthful of bloody saliva. With a wide smirk, and hazy, unfocused eyes, she spat the blood and saliva at Sans, and it splattered on his shirt and even his cheek a bit, a final act of defiance before her arms wobbled, and she dropped to the floor, her head injury taking her into unconsciousness.
Sans recoiled in surprise as Eliza defiantly spat blood and saliva at him, the crimson liquid splattering across his shirt and cheek. His amusement faded into a mix of disgust and anger, his eyes narrowing with a sudden intensity.
"You little bitch," he growled, wiping the blood and saliva from his face with a gloved hand. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as he watched her slump back to the floor, succumbing to the darkness of unconsciousness. Sans rose to his full height, towering over the fallen Eliza, a simmering rage bubbling beneath his composed exterior. He clenched his fists tightly, the golden rings on his fingers glinting ominously in the dim light.
"You think that's the end of it? Oh no, sweetheart," he spat, a venomous edge to his words. "That pitiful display of rebellion has only sealed your fate. You will pay for your defiance, mark my words." Sans' face contorted into a mask of fury, his red eyes blazing with a smoldering fire. He took a step back, hovering over Eliza's unconscious form, plotting his next move with a calculated desire for revenge.
As Eliza lay motionless on the floor, her fate now sealed in Sans' vengeful hands, the room grew still, with only the sound of her faint breathing echoing in the air. The darkness of the room seemed to close in around her, a foreboding sign of the torment that awaited her under Sans' merciless control.
Eliza dreamt in her unconscious state. It started off pleasant, simply warmth and soft colors. But soon her dreams became twisted and dark, flashing visions of a sharp, cruel grin, blood splattered across a room, and red, piercing eyelights staring into her. Eliza woke suddenly, her body jerking in reflex. She gasped slightly, and sat up, slowly as her head was throbbing painfully. She was quick to realize that she was definitely not in her own room, much less her own house or bed. The bed she was in screamed luxury, much softer and larger than her own, and fitted in red sheets, and a thick, soft black quilt. She tensed a bit, as the color scheme of the bed reminded her of a certain mobster;Sans, of course. Red and black were the calling card of the Gaster family. She didn't dare look around the dark room, lest she see those red eyes. Instead she elected to stare at her hands, and the black blanket bunched within them. Eliza's heart pounded in her chest as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings, her mind racing with fear and apprehension. The luxury of the bed contrasted sharply with the twisted dreams that had plagued her unconscious state. Her hands clenched tighter around the black blanket, the fabric providing an anchor of sorts amidst the chaos in her mind. The softness of the material offered a minuscule comfort, a gentle reminder of a world she had once known.
Her thoughts darted back to Sans, the mobster who had ensnared her life in his web of darkness. Tentatively, Eliza peeled her eyes away from her hands and cast a quick glance around the room. Shadows danced along the walls, casting an eerie atmosphere that seemed to align with the nightmares that had plagued her sleep. But there was no sign of Sans, no indication of his presence.
Though a small wave of relief washed over her, it was quickly overshadowed by the realization that she was trapped in his domain. She was at his mercy, with no escape in sight. Panic threatened to consume her, but she fought to keep a semblance of composure, knowing that any display of weakness would only serve to further fuel Sans' sadistic desires. Taking a deep breath, Eliza calmed her racing heart and resolved to gather her strength. She may be trapped for now, but she refused to be broken. She would find a way to survive this twisted game, to outwit the manipulative mobster who held her captive. With every ounce of determination, she steeled herself for the challenges that lay ahead, determined to defy Sans' hold on her.
The door to the bedroom opened shortly after, a soft creak coming from it's hinges. Sans waltzed in, oozing prideful confidence as he did. Sans chuckled softly to himself as he observed Eliza's movements, her tense posture, and her jittery gaze fixed downwards. His crimson eyes gleamed with dark amusement as he leaned against the door frame, a smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, well, well... Look who's finally awake," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Did you have sweet dreams, sweetheart?" His tone was laced with a mixture of cruel amusement and arrogant satisfaction. Sans sauntered into the room, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. He regarded Eliza with a predatory glint in his eyes, relishing the fear he sensed emanating from her. He enjoyed watching her struggle, knowing that she was trapped in his clutches. He stopped a few feet away from her, crossing his arms over his chest. His presence loomed over her, an imposing figure within the darkened room. With each passing moment, he reveled in the power he held over her. "You're in my world now," he taunted, letting the words hang in the air. "And, sweetheart, try as you might, there's no escaping me. You're mine, and I'll make sure you remember that every waking moment." His voice dripped with possessiveness, a chilling reminder of his determination to keep her under his control. Sans took a step closer, his gaze unyielding and intense.
"Remember, Eliza," he purred her name with a sinister edge. "In this twisted game, I hold all the cards. And you... you'll dance to my tune, whether you like it or not."
Eliza glared up at him, but her hatred faltered, fear slipping through her facade. "Where am I? How long was I passed out?" She asked quietly, a tone that was slightly subdued, but still held contempt and defiant anger. It seemed that the change in scenery had shocked her enough to frighten her, her cold and angry demeanor cracking to expose the uncomfortable truth within; that Eliza was just a terrified woman, trying to protect herself from a violent crime lord who had decided he fancied her on what seemed to be a whim. Sans arched a brow as he observed Eliza's glare faltering, replaced by a mixture of fear and subdued anger. He relished in the realization that she was beginning to grasp the reality of her situation, that her defiance was slowly crumbling beneath the weight of his dominance.
His grin widened as he leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "Ah, sweetness, where you are is no concern of yours. Just know that you're within my reach, under my watchful eye." His words dripped with a mix of possessiveness and sadistic delight. He took a step back, his expression turning more mocking. "As for how long you were out—I'm afraid that's for me to know and you to wonder. Time is a fickle thing, especially in my world. You'd do best not to dwell on it."
Sans circled around Eliza, his gaze never leaving her form. He reveled in her vulnerability, sensing her true fears beneath the thin veneer of defiance. Her words, laced with contempt and anger, held no sway over him. If anything, they further fueled his hunger for control. "You should know, Eliza," he chuckled darkly, his voice a mix of amusement and warning. "Your defiance amuses me. But be warned, I'm not one to tolerate insubordination for long. You can play the strong-willed act all you want, but in the end, you're mine. Resistance will only bring you more pain."
Sans stopped in front of Eliza, staring down at her with an intense gaze. He reveled in her vulnerability, knowing that he had her trapped within his twisted game. His voice lowered, laced with a dangerous edge. "So, my dear, if I were you, I'd learn to cooperate. It'll save you from a lot of unnecessary suffering." Sans watched with a predatory gleam in his eyes as Eliza's breath caught and she attempted to move away from him, only to find herself trapped between his imposing figure and the unyielding headboard. "I don't understand why you're doing this!" She snarled, giving the impression of an animal cornered, baring it's teeth in a last ditch effort to survive. He took a step closer, relishing in the fear that danced across her features. A malicious smirk curled at the corner of his mouth as he towered over her. "Oh, sweetheart, understanding is a luxury you won't afford in this world," he sneered. "But let me break it down for you, just this once."
Sans leaned in, his voice dripping with contempt and superiority. "You see, my dear, you're nothing more than a pawn in my game. I saw your beauty, I heard your voice, and I decided that you were mine. It's as simple as that." He straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to loom over her. "You've caught my interest, and that's not an opportunity afforded to many. Consider yourself lucky, Eliza. Lucky or cursed, that's for you to decide." His words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of dark satisfaction and veiled threats. Sans relished in the power he held over her, the knowledge that she had become entangled in his web of control. "Now, my dear, enough with the questions," he said dismissively, his voice a low growl. "You have a role to play, and it's time you start understanding exactly what that role entails."
Eliza glared at him, but it was a weak and nearly pitiful attempt compared to before. Her anger was muted by fear, as well as a growing, morbid sense of curiosity.
"What role could I possibly play? I have no skills that would benefit you, or your stupid damn Mob." She scoffed at the thought of it. Sans grin faltered at her disrespect, and he stepped closer to her even more, in an intimidating manner, his hands clenching into fists for a brief moment.
"Watch your tone, sweetheart. It's very disrespectful to speak about my family in that manner." He sighed softly, as his wicked grin returned. "Besides, my dear. I most certainly do have a role for you to play." Sans chuckled darkly at Eliza's feeble attempt to glare at him, finding her weakened defiance rather amusing. Her observation about her perceived lack of skills only seemed to entertain him further.
"Oh, my dear Eliza, you underestimate the power of influence," he said with a wicked grin. "You possess a talent that can captivate both men and women alike. Your voice has a way of stirring emotions, of captivating hearts and minds." He paced around the room, his gaze locked on her. "You see, the world I inhabit is not just one of brute force and violence. It's a world of power, manipulation, and strategy. And your presence by my side, enchanting those who dare cross our path, has the potential to be an invaluable asset."
Sans stopped in front of Eliza, his eyes gleaming with a mix of intrigue and possessiveness. "Picture this, my dear," he began, his voice low and persuasive. "You'll be the face of our operation, the one who draws others in, only to find themselves ensnared in our web. Together, we'll build an empire, and the world will bow before us." His words hung in the air, the grandeur of his vision filling the room. Sans took a step closer, his voice quiet but filled with conviction. His words hung in the air, the grandeur of his vision filling the room. Sans took a step closer, his voice quiet but filled with conviction. "But make no mistake, Eliza," he warned, his tone turning more ominous. "Accepting this role means obedience, loyalty, and complete submission to me. You'll be mine in every sense of the word, and your only purpose will be to serve our cause." Sans paused, his gaze piercing into her soul. "So, my dear Eliza, what will it be? Will you embrace your destiny and be my muse, or will you wither away in fear and regret?"
Chapter 4: Losing the war
Chapter Text
Eliza sat quietly in contemplation of his words. She had two obvious choices; surrender to Sans will, and live in relative safety, or continue to defy him and risk his wrath further.
She didn't want to succumb to the dark thrall of the criminal world in which Sans existed, but at the same time, was hesitant to openly bring down his rage upon herself.
She sighed deeply, making a decision within herself.
"Very well. I'll … work for you. But I refuse to do anything to harm an innocent." Her tone was serious and demanding.
Sans chuckled at her statement, raising an browbone at her. "Oh, sweetheart, you're so naive. In this dark world, there are no innocents. There is only darkness and bloodshed. I suggest you become accustomed to it my dear." With that, Sans stood and walked out of the room, leaving Eliza alone with the weight of her decision.
After around 30 minutes of sitting in the bed silent, silently battling the waves of differing emotions flowing through herself, Eliza found the strength to stand and walk out of the room as well.
She looked around at the halls of the large home, as every inch of it dripped with opulence and wealth. She was actually impressed in a manner of speaking, and jealous as well, thinking about her dreary, slum of an apartment, tiny and dingy. She sighed and pressed forward down the hallway, the plush carpeting muffling her steps into near oblivion. She soon came to a spiral staircase, and walked down it into a large foyer. To her left, a sitting room with a few lounge chairs and a long sofa, and to her right, a large kitchen, with an attached dining room. In the kitchen stood Sans, preparing some kind of meal. He was chopping vegetables with a swift skill, while two slabs of beef were searing in a skillet on the nearby stove.
He glanced towards Eliza, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. "Hope you're alright with steak and vegetables. Don't have much of else on hand until one of the kitchen staff go out for groceries." His voice was calm and collected, his face expressionless.
Eliza hummed in a neutral way, neither expressing positive or negative feelings towards his words. Sans paused in his chopping to gesture towards the kitchen table. "Sit." He said, a command rather than a request. Eliza chose to do so, crossing her hands in her lap as she waited expectantly.
Her eyes were analytic as she watched the mobster. She hadn't expected him to offer her a job of all things. Well, moreso bully her into a job. After another 10 minutes of silence passed, Sans began playing the food onto 2 plates, serving one to Eliza before setting the other at the chair directly across from her, and sitting down. He seemed tired, Eliza noted silently, a small pang of pity shooting through her chest before she shoved it away. 'He's a mob boss, a criminal, violent, cruel, and has probably-no, definitely- killed people before, not to mention the fact he had his thugs knock you senseless and apparently kidnapped you in your unconscious state. Stop pitying him, Eliza.' her words within her own mind rang clear to herself. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he began to eat the food he had prepared. He then glanced to her, seemingly a bit confused. "Well? Aren't you going to eat? No sense in wasting good food. There's people in this very city starving, dollface." Eliza continued to stare for a minute before relenting and trying a piece of the steak. She immediately regretted not eating sooner; it was absolutely delicious, seasoned and cooked to perfection, juicy and flavorful. She let out a soft sigh of contentment, then trying to roasted vegetables, only to be just as satisfied by them. She then ate with much more voracity, but still maintained a semblance of manners while doing so.
"Damn, Mr. Gaster, you're an amazing cook! What the hell?"
She grinned at him unwittingly, and Sans gave a smile back. It was a genuine one, with a hint of warmth and humanity.
She was a bit surprised by this, expecting the mobster to gloat arrogantly. Instead, she was greeted by humility.
"Heh. Ain't nothing to run home about, doll. Besides, it's my mother's seasoning blend, and cooking style." His voice held a soft admiration to it as he spoke about his mother. Eliza smile continued as she spoke. "Your mother's huh? Well if you can cook this well by replicating her, I'd love to try her cooking directly sometime." She let out a small chuckle. Sans however, went quiet, and withdrawn. "Sorry to disappoint doll, but she's dead. Been gone for most my life actually." His voice was matter of fact, as he tried to suppress any emotion. Eliza paused in her eating, a feeling of guilt wracking her. "Oh… my apologies, Mr. Gaster… I didn't mean to be insensitive." Sans waved her apology off, his hand swinging in a dismissive gesture. " You couldn't have known, sweetheart. Don't work yourself up about it." His voice held a finality about the subject, and a desire to speak about something else.
Sans hummed softly, a tune that Eliza found familiar, but couldn't place where. After they both had finished their meals, Sans took and cleared the table, dishes going into the sink, before returning to his seat. "Now. Let's get to business, shall we?" His voice had turned cold again, clearly returning to a mobster mentality, his very body language shifting into something cold and impassible. Eliza felt a bit of discomfort at the shift in behavior that Sans held.
She trained her own face into one of cold calmness, sitting up a bit straighter as well. "Alright then. What is it you want to discuss?"
"The terms of your employment, Eliza. I want you to understand your duties and what is expected of you now."
Eliza grit her teeth, wanting to simply leave, but nodded anyway. "Go on."
Sans glanced over her face for a moment, as if searching for something. When he finished, he seemed satisfied, and spoke again.
"Very well. You are to act as a lure, and an informant to me. I want you to use any methods you deem necessary to obtain information from the other mob bosses, whether they are our allies or not. Your beauty, grace and charm will be your greatest weapons, Eliza. You see, a woman has few true advantages in this world, we all know this. But, the ones you do possess have a stronger sway over most men than threats of violence or pain of death. Use those weapons for my purposes, Eliza."
Sans held an air of superiority and wisdom about him as he spoke, and Eliza found herself easily enraptured by his words. She contemplated quietly.
Sans stood, and turned to grab his jacket and hat, as they hung from the chair next to him. A spark was in his red eyelights as he donned them, and looked to Eliza. "In fact, you'll be using those very weapons tomorrow night, Eliza. I'm quite anxious to get you into the field, so to speak, to see just how well you'll do."
Eliza looked shocked, and incredulous. "What!? Tomorrow!? What about some kind of… of training!? I don't know what I'm doing!!" She shouted, her hand coming to rest on her forehead in a stressed action. Sans laughed a bit at her behavior, finding amusement in Elizas lack of self confidence. "You'll be fine, my dear. You need no training to use your own charm. Simply be yourself, Eliza. Be alluring and confident, and direct the conversation to more interesting topics." With that, Sans began to walk out of the kitchen, and back upstairs. "One of my drivers will take you back into the city tomorrow to shop for clothing, and any other necessities you may need, then will return you to your apartment." He called back to her as he ascended the staircase, "However, be dressed and waiting by 9pm sharp. He will return to pick you up by then, Eliza. Do not keep me waiting." His figure then vanished up the stairs, and down the hallway.
Eliza sighed heavily, and caught a glimpse of movement at the front door. It was a random man who worked for the Gaster family, who motioned for her to follow him. "This way, miss. I'll be escorting you home this evening." Eliza followed him out to a small red car, and sat in the backseat. Soon after, the man started the car and began to drive down a dusty, dirt road, headed towards Ebbott City, which could be seen on the nearby horizon. They were only about 15 Miles outside of the city, with dense forest surrounding them.
Eliza stared out the car window wordlessly, contemplating all the ways her life has just been upheaved and irrefutably changed within a mere week. By the time Eliza was dropped off at her apartment, she was completely physically and emotionally exhausted. She unlocked the door, entered, relocked it behind her, and simply collapsed on her bed in her room.
She fell into a fistful sleep, waking several times before dawn struck.
Eliza was awoken by the sound of a sharp knock on her door, and she groaned angrily, looking at the clock in her wall. It read 9am, and she then rolled out of bed with a deep sigh. "One damn minute!" She snapped, as the knocks became more insistent. She hastily threw on new, clean clothes, brushed her hair and teeth quickly, and tossed on comfortable shoes before opening the door.
Before her stood a woman, probably in her early 30's, with long, silken, black hair, and warm brown eyes. She had a kind smile, and was a picture of a loving woman.
"Hello, miss. My name's Judy Gaster. I'm the family medic, and wife to Wingdings Gaster. I'll be escorting you to shop, per the Dons orders." Even the woman's voice flowed like honey in the sun. Eliza found herself smiling back genuinely at her kindness and sunny disposition. "Pleasure to meet you, Judy, my name is Eliza, Eliza Black." She thought for a split second, and then her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Judy Gaster? Wait, Mr. Gaster has brothers?" Her voice displayed her confusion in an obvious manner.
Judy simply laughed a bit and nodded as she responded.
"Yes, two actually. Don Gaster is the middle child actually." Elizas confused state only worsened as her curiosity grew.
"Wait, two? Middle child? Why is he the boss and not the eldest?" Judy seemed a bit surprised at Elizas barrage of questions, but took it in stride. She then linked arms with Eliza, dragging her out of her apartment. "I'll answer your questions as we shop, or perhaps over some coffee before we shop?" Eliza blushed a bit, embarrassment at her own insatiable curiosity flowing through her.
"Sorry, sorry, yeah coffee sounds amazing actually."
The two women took off, walking down the sidewalk of the city. The atmosphere of the city was calm and yet, the city was bursting with life this time of morning. The streets were crammed with cars, the trolley flew by on it's tracks, and many people were hustling down the sidewalk in urgent manners, trying to get to their destinations.
Eliza smiled softly, enjoying the sights and sounds of it all.
Soon, they arrived at a small cafe that was unfamiliar to Eliza. Sitting within a booth, Eliza and Judy made small talk until their coffees arrived.
"So," Eliza began, sipping on the hot beverage,"will you tell me about the Gaster brothers, and maybe how you wound up married to one?" Eliza was genuinely curious, and her tone held no judgement nor malice.
Judy smiled and sipped her own coffee. "Sure thing, hun. So…where to start, where to start. Well, Sans, the Don, has two brothers as I told you before. Wingdings is the eldest, and my husband of 5 years. He's 41, and despite having rights to being the boss by sheer seniority, he chose not to steal the spotlight so to speak. Wings really just didn't want the responsibility, to be honest. He prefers staying on the sidelines and simply being involved in the planning and financial aspects. Of course, you've met Sans, already. He's the boss of us all, and plays the role quite well, and he's 36. He's smart and cunning, and maintains control of his subordinates without too much fear or strong arming, opting instead to earn their loyalty. Sans isn't married or anything, though… I'm not really sure why. As for the third brother, that would be Papyrus. He's 23, and is in control of the properties owned by the Gaster family, and is currently seeing a cute little lady over in the east side of town. I think he's planning to propose soon?" Judy rambled on and on about the three brothers, visibly proud and caring, despite the fact her husband and brother in laws were large scale criminals.
Eliza filed away much of the information she learned for later use if need be, nodding and making noises of affirmation when needed during the conversation.
Not long after, their coffees finished and paid for, the two women stood and left, heading towards a highly expensive clothing shop. Eliza balked at the sight of it, an embarrassed flush heating her cheeks. "Uhm… Judy, I can't afford anything in here." She muttered quietly. Judy rolled her eyes playfully and 'tsked' softly. "Listen, hun, this is all going on the Dons tab. Don't worry about it. Just pick out a handful of outfits. And make em sexy!" She elbowed Elizas ribs in a teasing manner. Elizas blush only worsened, and she ducked her head as she entered to shop.
After trying on what felt like hundreds of dresses, Eliza settled on 4 different dresses in various shades of red, and one black one. She then grabbed stockings and tights to match, as well as a pair of black heels that would match all 4 dresses. She then caught sight of a pair of black, low heeled boots. She froze for a moment, then grabbed them. She tossed everything onto to the counter in front of the store clerk, who looked at her and Judy nervously.
Judy simply smiled, and spoke in a soft yet commanding voice. "Put all of this onto the Gaster families tab, dear. It'll be paid at the end of the month, per usual." The woman running the cash register nodded rapidly and moved to ring up the order and bag the items.
They then gathered the bags, leaving the store and walking back to Elizas apartment. She noticed a dark blue car waiting outside, and the man inside it nodded respectfully to Judy, who waved in return. "That's my ride, hun. I'll see you again soon! And welcome to the family." Her words, though kind and gentle, held an ominous foreboding to Eliza.
Eliza waved goodbye and walked into her home.
By now it was 5pm, and she was ravenous. She scrounged through her fridge, settling on a simple toast and eggs. She cooked and ate without much thought or pretense. She then lounged about until 8pm, enjoying a book, and the sense of escape from her harsh reality the story brought her. She glanced at the clock, glaring at it as if willing time itself to stop, and prevent the time of her moral doom from arriving. She slammed the book down into her coffee table, and began to choose a dress from the ones she, or rather Sans, had purchased earlier.
She decided on a deep, wine red dress, with long sleeves, and a plunging backline. It covered her cleavage for the most part, giving her a mild sense of modesty. She then pulled black stockings up to her thighs, clipping a garter belt to the tops and around her waist. She rounded the look of with the black kitten heels, and a minor touch of makeup, simple mascara and a thin line of black kohl along the rims of her eyes. She steeled herself, forcing an air of calmness around herself. It wasn't too hard to do so.
By the time she finished dressing and her internal pep talk, it was time for action. She stormed down the stairs of the apartment, exuding power and confidence. The same red car from before was waiting, though there was a different driver. "Evening, miss. Don Gaster is waiting for you at the club." Eliza nodded coolly," Let's go then, don't want to be late." The drive was short, and deafeningly quiet. With the car stopping in front of the club, Eliza exited and walked in through the front doors, ready to meet her new fate. She saw Sans in his usual booth, with 2 other well dressed men, and he gave her a slight nod of recognition, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he took in her form. He then snapped his gaze away, and spoke to one of the men beside him. Eliza made her way over to the booth, and Sans motioned for her to sit with them.
She looked over the two other men with a cold and calibrated gaze. The first man was in his mid-fifties at least, a greasy mustache on his face, smoking a cheap cigar and wearing a drab grey suit, a gold watch, and held an agitated scowl on his face. The second man was baby faced, visibly youthful, and looked asian as well, whilst he was dressed to the nines in a green suit and multiple pieces of gold and jade jewelry. They were talking with Sans, discussing what sounded to Eliza like they were discussing a business deal.
The two men excused themselves after a moment and went to the bar, ordering a set of beers. During their absence, Sans spoke softly to Eliza, filling her in on crucial details.
"Man in the grey is Don Vicello, and the Asian kid is Don Sang, both of them small time mobsters, maybe have a combined 100 men under them. We're working out the details of an alliance with them, and what we're willing to exchange with each other. They each have a scrap of territory in the west side of the city. Nothing important though. I need you to find out who they're working with now, doll." Eliza nodded slightly, acknowledging his words with a quiet and reluctant reply, "Sure."
Sans chuckled lowly, the sound reverberating in the air. "Work your magic, sweetheart, show me what you got."
Eliza crinkled her face in annoyance for a second before smoothing her expression into one of indifference.
When the men returned to the table, Don Vicello seemed surprised and annoyed by Elizas sudden presence, while Don Sang started to leer at her unpleasantly. Sans stood and walked to the bar himself, and ordered a few shots of liquor. Don Sang tipped his hat to her, with an obnoxious,"good evening miss! Why don't you come sit by me?" His voice was sickly sweet and made Elizas stomach turn, but she simply smiled and sat next to him, batting her eyelashes cutely. "Evening, sir! What's a fine gentleman like you doing here?" She felt absolutely ridiculous, but her efforts were well rewarded. "Oh, miss, I'm just taking care of business. My coworker is expecting me to gain some traction with the Don Gaster fellow, and I think I've done just that!" He gloated, wrapping an arm around Eliza. She took the opening she had found, and played dumb. "Oh? Business huh? How interesting! Tell me more mister."
She giggled girlishly, and flicked her hair over her shoulder with one hand. The young don indulged her nosy behavior without a second thought, rambling on and on about his position and wealth, as well as the other mobs he was allied with, including one that stuck out in her mind; a mob family called the Dreemurrs, who were, according to the man, about to 'make big moves on the city.' Eliza nodded intently, listening to his words with a false look of admiration and feigned ignorance. Soon, the two dons stepped up, excusing themselves, and walked side by side, into a small room towards the back of the club. Eliza followed after momentarily, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floors, as she crept behind them.
She stood just out of view as they spoke amongst themselves.
Don Vicellos harsh, raspy voice was full of irritation.
"I don't see why you're hesitant, Sang, we have orders from the big boss!"
Don Sang replied in a whiney tone. "But, I don't know… what if the other two Gaster brothers retaliate? It just seems risky!"
Vicello sighed angrily. "It doesn't matter, Sang. We're killing Don Gaster; tonight. When he invites us back to his home, we will follow, and then strike. He'll never see it coming!"
Sang agreed quietly, giving into Vicellos pressuring.
Eliza froze at those words. The situation had just taken a turn for the worse. She now had a choice, one that would define her life permanently; let Sans die, and gain her freedom in the process, or go and potentially save him, and remain in the twisted servitude she was currently in.
Despite Sans cruelty, his possessiveness, and his desire to bend her to his will, Eliza couldn't find it in herself to let him die, to be shot down like an animal, for that was certainly what would happen. She sighed, and wondered why and when she had gained a sense of loyalty to the monster. She decided that was a problem for later.
She stepped away quickly, heading back into the bar to find Sans. To her dismay, Sans was no where to be found. Her pulse quickened with dread, and she went to the bartender, and slammed her hand in the counter. The bartender, named Johnny, startled a bit, and looked at her apprehensively. "Yeah, miss? How can I help ya, toots?"
"Where's Don Gaster? I need to know. Now." Her voice was ice cold and held a thinly veiled threat of violence if Johnny denied her the answer she sought.
Johnny seemed surprised by the intensity of her voice, and caved to her will. "H-He just left! He said something bout a meeting at his home. That's all I know, toots, I swear!"
Eliza cursed, and seeing the other two dons leaving the club, she swiftly acted. She raced through the club in the opposite direction, down a hallway past the stage, and past her old communal dressing room, and through the alleyway exit. Glancing around frantically, she saw two of Sans men, the very men she had nearly beaten the piss out of prior, and snapped at them in an authoritative tone. "hey, dickheads! One of you drive me to Don Gasters home, now!" They looked at her with a mix of curiosity, confusion and anxiety. "Why should we, woman?" The first sneered, his lip still split and swollen from her blows the week prior. She stomped into his face with an enraged look. "Because if you don't, I'm going to tell the Don how you personally defied a direct order from him." The man paled, and quickly rectified his previous defiance, and led her to a car. It didn't matter to Eliza she had just lied to the man, for she had more pressing matters in her mind. "Hurry up!" She snarled, and the man drove off at a dangerous pace, dust and gravel kicking up from his wheels as he sped towards the outskirts of the city.
Chapter 5: The Murderer**
Notes:
Content Warning for graphic depiction of violence, death/murder, and crude language!!
Please mind the tags, as this is still a dark fic!!
Enjoy ^.^
Chapter Text
As the car sped down the back roads of the city, Elizas anxiety worsened, a sickening pit in her stomach that threatened to consume her.
She rubbed at her face, trying to calm and compose herself.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" She muttered under her breath to herself. The second the car pulled into the driveway, she slung open the door aggressively, and glared demonically at the gangster who had drove. "Give me your gun, right now shithead!" She snarled, a wild, animalistic fury in her eyes. The man nodded in anxious suspicion, handing her his gun before he spoke. "if you think you're gonna kill the Don, little lady, you're in for a rude awakening! He'll tear you to shreds!" He growled back.
Eliza sighed and snapped again, snatching the gun out of his hand. "I don't have time to explain this to you, you fucking idiot! I'm trying to help the big, boney moron!" She then flew out of the car and towards the mansion in one fluid movement, leaving a shell shocked gangster in the car, his mouth gaping open. She shoved the door open roughly, but stopped it from slamming against the wall as she entered, trying to maintain an element of surprise against her newfound foes. She heard the three mobsters speaking upstairs, voices slowly beginning to raise in an angered manner. She pushed herself to creep up the stairs, her hands shaking slightly as she held the cold grip of the pistol in her hand. Above the noise of it all, Sans could be heard, a roar above the other two. "You bastards really think you'll win any favors doing this!? You've made a grave mistake, and it's not only gonna kill you, but your entire gangs and your fucking families!"
Eliza followed the sound of his rage to what she assumed was his office, peering in through the gap between the door and the frame, as it was slightly ajar.
She could see Sans had been handcuffed to his chair, a trickle of red magic dripping down from a small crack in his skull, giving a mental image reminiscent of blood dripping from a flesh wound. 'Didn't know he could bleed…weird. Well, at least I know the other two fuckfaces will definitely bleed.' She thought to herself with a smug smirk. She cocked the pistols hammer, and with a deep breath, kicked the door open fully, gun aimed at Don Vicello. Her eyes held a burning fury, and a cold sense of hatred.
"Evening, gents! Looks like we've got ourselves a bit of a fucking problem." Her voice dripped with sarcasm and anger. "See, I can't quite figure it out, but for some reason, looks like ya wanna kill my boss. Care to clue me in?"
Vicello looked shocked, while Sang was pale and anxious. "I told you this was a damn bad idea, Vicello!" Sang whined, as he took a step back. Eliza whipped the gun towards him, her voice commanding and as sharp as a razor. "Do. Not. Move! I'll blow your brains out, I fucking swear it!" She was bluffing, completely certain she didn't have what it took to take their lives if push came to shove, but there was no reason to let them know that. All three men were surprised by the force of will and sheer confidence exuding from her, but Sans was also impressed by it. Vicello glared at her, his hand fidgeting as he glanced at his own gun, which was resting on Sans desk, just out of reach. "Well, Mr. Gaster, didn't know you trained your whores to shoot." Vicellos voice was condescending and cold. Eliza took great offense to his comment towards her, as did Sans by the apparent look of distaste on his face. But even so, she remained calm, her gun trained on Vicello. "I'm not a whore. But, I am the woman who's gonna send a lot of pain your way if you don't back the fuck off and do exactly as I say." Vicello scoffed, and made a movement towards her, his stance exhibiting a threat of violence. Eliza did not hesitate, and lowered her gun, firing a round into the elder man's thigh. He dropped to the floor instantly, howling in pain, and clutching his injured leg. Blood sprayed across the floor and soaked his pants as he flailed on the ground.
"You stupid little bitch! I'll fucking kill you! You fucking evil whore!" Eliza didn't flinch at his words, simply maintaining a cold and calm expression, and kept her gun trained on Vicello. Sans was quite impressed at this point, his browbones raising as he reevaluated the woman before him. Clearly he had underestimated her once again, and he felt a strange sense of respect and connection with her, his very soul throbbing in his ribcage. "Damn, what a woman…" he chuckled under his breath.
Elizas eyes glared down at Sang, as he was the weak link in her mind. He would be the one to crack and give her what she wanted. She spoke to him in a commanding and uncaring voice. "Now. Sang, was it? Tell me everything I want to know, now. Or else I'm simply going to kill your associate here, release my boss, and let him take over dealing with you." Sang looked like he was going to piss his pants at this point, and very enthusiastically agreed to her demands.
"Yes ma'am, right away ma'am! I… we were employed by the Dreemurr family, with the orders to take out Sans Gaster by any means necessary. We were promised a large sum of money in return, as well as positions of power within the Dreemurrs mob." He was shaking as he spoke, and on the verge of tears. Eliza nodded. "Good. Thank you for that. Now, release Mr. Gaster immediately. I really don't wanna have to take the key from you by other means, Sang." Eliza held a tone that was akin to a parent chastising a child.
Sang nodded and stepped over the now unconscious Vicello, and with trembling hands, he unlocked the cuffs holding Sans. Sans stood, and with a movement that was lightning fast, snagged Sang by the throat, squeezing mercilessly as the young man wheezed and flailed in his grasp. "Awh, buddy, you really just fucked up. That little deal is gonna cost you everything." With a single hand and a quick motion, Sans snapped Sangs neck, dropping his lifeless body to the floor, then kicking the corpse.
Eliza felt sick immediately, her face paling rapidly, and her hold on the gun shaking. Sans gave her a quick glance, a look of what almost appeared to be pity flashing across his face for a split second, before it was replaced by icy rage towards the gangsters who had double crossed him.
He pulled a knife from his pocket, and grabbed a handful of Vicellos hair with the other hand, slicing his throat with a flick of his wrist. Elizas eyes went cartoonishly wide, her head feeling light and dizzy as she dropped the gun with a clatter to the floor. "Jesus fucking Christ…" she whispered, taking a staggering step back at the sight of the gore and death in front of her. She had just watched two men be murdered by Sans, who had not even blinked at the process of taking their lives. She dropped to the floor, and retched violently, her stomach threatening to unburden itself of it's contents. Sans turned his attention to her as soon as he heard the sound of her gagging, his eyes looking at her with a strange expression as he moved towards her.
"Hey, hey, it's alright dollface. You did amazing, honest." He placed a hand against her back, rubbing gentle circles against her. She was shaking slightly, and her voice was horrified and in disbelief as she spoke to him. "You… you just fucking killed them… You didn't even think about it, you just… just did it!" She was beginning to go into shock, her breath coming in short bursts and her heart pounding in her chest. Sans sighed softly and kept tenderly caressing her back. "Yes. I did. In this world, in our life, mercy is a luxury we can't always afford, sweetheart. Though it begs the question, Eliza. Why did you come help me?" His voice was softer than she had ever heard it, an odd emotion within it.
Eliza met his gaze, her eyes glassy with emotional turmoil. "Fuck… I … I don't really know. I just couldn't let them kill you like that. I knew I'd still be trapped if I did, that I'd still be some pawn in your game, but even so… I just couldn't. I don't even have any reason or rationale for it." She scoffed at her own words. "I sound like a moron too." She stared down at her hands wordlessly.
Sans sat quietly for a long time, unspeaking and unmoving as he looked at Eliza in her near catatonic state. Finally, he stood, and pulled Eliza up by her arms gently, placing her on her unsteady feet. The metallic stench of blood and death permeated the room now.
"Come on dollface, let's get out of here. You look like you're gonna faint on me otherwise." He still held an unusual gentleness in his voice as he led her from the office room. By now, several other gangsters had come running up the stairs, yelling to their boss, declarations of the now dead mobsters intent, as well as questions of if he were alright. Sans brushed them off, and quickly ordered them to clean the mess in his office up, to which the men agreed and went to do so immediately. Sans arm was around Elizas shoulder, and was an action that typically would have made Eliza feel crushed by the weight of his possessive, controlling nature, but at current, she found some sense of comfort in the firm grip he had on her. She felt her emotional turmoil worsen at this realization, wondering why in hell she would find any solace in the embrace of a murderous criminal who had dragged her into his dark world by sheer force. She tried not to dwell on those thoughts as all they did was make her head throb and her heart ache.
Leading her down the hallway, Sans then turned into a large bathroom. Everything was luxurious and in tones of white and silver, even the marble sink top and porcelain bathtub was glistening with beauty. Eliza would have been impressed were she not in a state of utter disarray from the traumatic experience she had just been put through.
Sans silently ran a warm bath, pouring in various soaps and some oils of sorts, allowing the tub to fill and foam up. Once it was full, he took one last moment checking the temperature once more before shutting off the water.
He turned to Eliza was a stoney expression across his skeletal face. "take a bath doll. I'll send a woman up to check in you in half an hour, and help you if need be."
He ghosted past her and out of the bathroom, the door clicking shut softly behind him. It was then that Eliza broke down in tears, sobbing at the gruesome images that had been burned into her mind, the unnatural crunch of bones, and the wet gurgling sound of a man choking to death in his own blood repeating in her head. She finally undressed, realizing she had blood splattered across her dress and tights. She threw them into the trash can buy the toilet, shooting them a disgusted glare, as if the fabric had personally caused the pain she was feeling.
She then slipped into the tub, and was pleasantly surprised at how nice it felt, and realized how tense she was still. Every muscle ached with effort, her joints stiff and unwilling to bend. True to his word, a young lady came up to assist Eliza after 30 minutes, and knocked on the bathroom door.
"Miss? The Don asked me to check in on you, and assist in any way needed. May I come in?" Eliza sighed and replied,"Yes. Come in." The young woman entered and held out a thick towel and a robe for Eliza. "My apologies ma'am, but the Don has requested that you stay here tonight. He apologizes for the lack of amenities, specifically clothing."
She set the towel and robe on a nearby rack, and then left once she confirmed that Eliza didn't need or want anything else.
With great effort, Eliza stood and drained the tub water, and stepped out. She dried her body and hair, then wrapping the robe tightly around herself. When she exited the bathroom, the lady was waiting, and directed her to Sans bedroom, stating he wished to speak with her.
Eliza felt a sense of dread again, but for a different reasoning. She knocked on Sans door as the lady scurried away, and heard Sans speak from inside. "Come in."
She took a deep breath, and opened the door, walking into the dimly lit bedroom. Sans was smoking a cigar by the sole window in the room, red smoke wafting and twisting around him, almost aggressively, a personification of his internal rage he felt, despite his outward calm.
Eliza stood awkwardly in the center of the room, when Sans then gestured to the chair by his bed. "Well, sit sweetheart. Whether it's on the bed or the chair, I don't mind either way. We need to have a talk." His voice was blank, emotionless.
Eliza sat in the chair, not comfortable with being on his bed.
When Sans had finished his cigars he walked slowly towards Eliza, purpose in each step, though for what, she wasn't sure. He finally sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes not leaving her face for even a moment. Elizas unease worsened with each moment that passed. He finally smiled, a cold motion that made Eliza shift in her seat.
"So, dollface. You saved my life. I expect you realize what this means right?" When Eliza only gave him a quizzical look, Sans cruel smirk widened. "It means I won, sweetheart. You finally gave in to me. You finally have admitted you belong to me, Eliza." He chuckled darkly.
"But I must admit, I find myself wondering something. What lengths will you go to, to secure your rightful place, Eliza? How deep into the underbelly of the city are you willing to dive for a semblance of freedom?" Eliza frowned at his cruel remark, and glared at him. She felt painfully exposed in the thin robe, pulling it tighter around herself. "I can't say I know what you mean, Mr. Gaster. Besides, I never once admitted defeat to you, nor submission! As I see it, you owe me, Mr. Gaster, for saving your life, you dumb fucking prick! I know more than you think, Mr. Gaster, I'm not some dumb, meek woman, so don't keep expecting me to act like one!"
Sans kept smiling just the same, and folded his hands in his lap as he spoke again. "Ah, yes. You did not, did you? Hm. Well, you are correct. I owe you a debt, but do consider this, my dear. I'm the one in control here. I owe nothing to anyone. I answer to myself alone."
His eyes narrowed as he thought over her words. "Pray tell, dollface, what exactly do you think you know about me? I can guarantee you're most likely ill informed."
Eliza scoffed at him, crossing her arms over her chest.
" I know enough about you to make some... Educated guesses. I've heard plenty about you in the months I've lived here after all. Sans Gaster, violent to a T, short tempered, cruel, sadistic, ruthless and insanely powerful due to all of that. The leader of top mob in the city, and yet you lack something... Now tell what exactly it is you're lacking, Mr. Gaster." Her tone took on a slightly condescending tone as she spoke. "Ah, well, I suppose I'll fill in the blanks for you. You, Mr. Gaster, by all accounts, are lacking something many mobsters claim to be the most important thing to a mob boss; a legacy to carry on after you either retire or die, an heir. You have no children, much less a wife, according to the city gossip. Am I correct?" She paused, waiting for Sans to answer her. Sans watched as Eliza smirked and spoke with a confidence that caught his attention. Her assessment of him seemed almost accurate, as if she had gleaned tidbits of information from the whispers that circulated in the underworld. His expression turned slightly colder, his eyes narrowing.
"Very perceptive, Eliza," he replied, his voice laced with a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "You've done your homework, it seems."
He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. "You're right, I lack an heir, someone to carry on my legacy. But don't mistake that for weakness, my dear. I may not have a wife or children at the moment, but it doesn't mean I'm incapable of rectifying that."
Sans leaned in, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered in a low, dangerous voice. "Perhaps you could be the answer to that void in my life, Eliza. A partner in more ways than one. You have the potential to be so much more than just a pawn in my game."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he straightened up, his eyes fixed on her. "Imagine it, Eliza, standing by my side, with power and influence at your fingertips. Together, we can rule this city, leaving a legacy that will be spoken of for years to come. What do you say, my dear? Will you become the one who shares my name, my power, and my bed? You cannot deny there's been a strange pull between the two of us. Perhaps this is our fate, Eliza."
Eliza's face flushed at the implications of his words, and the sheer audacity he had to ask her that in such a manner.
"I... you... you... I just..."
She stammered, unable to form a proper sentence. She couldn't deny that a dark, inner part of herself was tempted by the allure of power and control, as well as the dark, sinful indulgence in Sans voice when he spoke of making her his lover and wife, though a part of her wanted to squash it down and never let it surface again. She turned her face away from him further as he whispered in her ear, almost seductively. Her face was flushed down her neck, and her breath had quickened slightly from her anxiety and embarrassment.
She couldn't deny that a dark, inner part of herself was tempted by the allure of power and control, as well as the dark, sinful indulgence in Sans voice when he spoke of making her his lover and wife, though a part of her wanted to squash it down and never let it surface again. She turned her face away from him further as he whispered in her ear, almost seductively. Her face was flushed down her neck, and her breath had quickened slightly from her anxiety and embarrassment. She turned her face away from him further as he whispered in her ear, almost seductively. Her face was flushed down her neck, and her breath had quickened. Sans observed Eliza's reaction with amusement, his smirk widening as he realized the effect his words had on her. Her flushed face and quickened breath only fueled his desire further.
"Oh, Eliza, it seems my proposition has struck a chord within you," he said, his voice dripping with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. "I can see the hesitation in your eyes, the battle between desire and resistance. Oh, how thrilling it is."
He took a step closer, gently turning her face back towards him, his gaze fixed upon her. "Don't fight it, my dear. Embrace the darkness within you. Allow the allure of power and control to consume you. I promise you, there is ecstasy and satisfaction in surrendering to these desires."
Sans leaned in, his lips lingering dangerously close to her ear, his voice low and persuasive. "Together, we can explore the depths of pleasure and dominance, feasting upon our darkest cravings. We'll revel in the sins of the world, our will unchained and our desires unmatched."
He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense and filled with longing. "I offer you a life of opulence, power, and possession. As my wife and lover, you'll be adored and cherished, but remember this, Eliza, your submission to me will be absolute. Your body, your mind, and your soul will belong to me, bound by the irresistible chains of desire and servitude."
Sans waited, his anticipation building, as he watched for her response, knowing that once she crossed that line, there would be no turning back.
Chapter 6: A Realization
Notes:
Hi lovelies! I'll be updating sporadically until I decide on a good schedule! Thanks for reading!
Chapter Text
Eliza swallowed thickly, nervous yet excited by the prospect. Did she dare do this? To submit to a life of darkness and crime? Worse yet, did she dare submit to a man that she was unsure would even be capable of loving her? She thought quite heavily on this last one. She had seen nothing but sadism and twisted desire from Sans, and she was skeptical as it of he could be capable of loving her, of showing any tenderness or affection. He had already started to be slightly possessive towards her as he saw her hesitancy to deny him again, and her conflict within herself over her desires. She decided to simply ask him directly.
" You'll never love me, will you, Mr. Gaster? Are you even capable of doing so?" Her voice was slightly accusatory, as if he had somehow already given her reason to believe him incapable of gentleness, fondness and adoration. She didn't meet his eyes, instead staring down at the floor from the chair she sat on. Sans sensed the weight of Eliza's question before she even spoke the words. The accusatory tone in her voice cut through the air, revealing her insecurities and doubts. He remained silent for a moment, considering his response. "Would you even want me to love you, Eliza? Would you need love to stand at my side? Or is the desire for power alone enough?" Eliza sighed, and replied quietly.
"Well, typically one takes a lover or partner out of love, not … power, or gain." It was true that he had shown little evidence of love or tenderness thus far, but he saw this as an opportunity to reveal a glimpse of vulnerability, a snippet of the complexities that lay beneath his tough exterior.
Slowly, Sans reached out, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, his usually fiery eyes now softened with genuine emotion.
"Love, Eliza, is a complicated notion," he began, his voice surprisingly gentle. "In my line of work, one can't afford to be too sentimental, to expose vulnerabilities that can be exploited. But rest assured, my dear, there are many types of love, and I am capable of feeling it in my own way."
His grip on her chin tightened slightly, ensuring her attention remained on him.
"I won't make promises of grand declarations or any semblance of normality that you are accustomed to, for those are luxuries I can't afford," he continued, his tone earnest. "But I can assure you, Eliza, that if you choose this path with me, if you embrace the darkness, I will care for you in my own way. You will have my protection, my support, and a life of decadence and power."
Sans leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Perhaps, with time, you will find that my love for you is as unique and unconventional as the man I am. It may not fit into society's expectations, but it will be a love that consumes and possesses, a love born of passion and shared desires."
He released his grip on her chin and sat back, his expression once again masking his true emotions. "So, Eliza, do you dare take this gamble? Do you dare to venture into the darkness with me, knowing that the rewards will be great, but the risks even greater?"
Sans soul throbbed anxiously, and he felt an internal discomfort at the thought of Eliza rejecting him. 'Why? Why should I even care?' he thought to himself. A sudden realization rocked his very being, in the depths of his soul a whisper; mate. This was his soulmate, his other half. While most monsters and even humans had soulmates, Sans hadn't thought himself capable of having a soulmate, having spent his youth searching for them, finally admitting defeat and simply languishing in his loneliness. But this revelation explained everything, his initial draw to her presence, his compulsive desire to control and claim her, his inexplicable need to keep her close. With his new knowledge, the longing and keening cry of his magic continued to bubble up, primal instinct demanding he act.
However, he clamped down those desires and simply waited for Eliza to speak, the course of his next actions would be solely based off of her words. Humans of course, in their physical being and inability to use or sense magic, couldn't feel nor hear their souls desires the way monsters could. Eliza paused again, thinking over his answer. It made sense to her. Love was a soft emotion, and showing softness in the cruel underworld of the criminal ruled city would be simply be asking for some kind of hurt. It was a blatant display of weakness, or... self confidence, to some, the confidence in one's ability to protect their loved ones. Eliza decided that was something to muse over later though, as it simply was a bit outlandish to focus on that at current. She shivered a bit at his grip on her chin, feeling as if small sparks were passing between them where her skin met his smooth bone. An odd sense of companionship and trust flowed through the shared touch, and Eliza felt a twinge within the essence of herself. She wondered what the sensation meant.
"... I..."
She sighed softly, and suddenly had a strange look in her eyes as her gaze snapped back up to Sans. It was an intense mixture of determination, interest, and even a bit of playfulness. The sight of it all made Sans interest pique, a flash of intrigue in his crimson eyelights. He found himself pondering the dominant trait of her soul, perhaps Bravery? Justice? Either would make sense, given her personality. Ah, well, he would see eventually. He was pulled from his thoughts when Eliza spoke once more.
"Hm... Very well. I'll accept... on some conditions. Will you hear what I ask for ?"
Sans raised a brow at Eliza's sudden shift in demeanor and the intensity that flickered in her eyes. He was intrigued by her newfound resolve and her proposal of conditions. He leaned back slightly, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, I'm certainly all ears, my dear Eliza," he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "I'm always open to negotiation, as long as the terms are within reason. So, pray tell, what conditions do you have in mind?"
He leaned back, and crossed his arms over his chest, finding himself genuinely curious to see what Eliza would desire in this dark and twisted dance of power and desire that they were about to embark upon. Eliza nodded once.
"First... If I am to accept you offer... You will treat me with dignity. I won't demand to be your equal, because... I'm not stupid, frankly, I know you won't ever see me as your equal. But I refuse to be treated poorly, like some toy to be tossed around then discarded. I won't be beaten or abused for no reason. Secondly, I'm not to be treated like a common whore, or someone here just to pop out a child for you. If you want to make me your wife, then do so properly, and treat me as such. In return, I promise you my loyalty, my obedience, my heart, body, and soul."
She looked at him intently, her voice stern and unwavering in her conviction.
"And I have one final condition..."
She suddenly smirked, a playful, yet sly look on her face.
" If you genuinely want me at your side, prove it... Kiss me. Right here, right now."
She seemed to have some kind of unspoken challenge in her voice, as if her final request were some kind of test for Sans. Sans listened carefully to Eliza's conditions, a mix of amusement and intrigue dancing in his eyes. Her demands were not unreasonable, far from it. In fact, they echoed a sentiment that he held deep within himself; a desire for respect and recognition in this twisted world they both inhabited. The smirk on his face widened as he reveled in her fiery spirit and unwavering conviction.
"Eliza, my dear, you certainly know how to keep me on my toes," he chuckled, lowering his gaze to meet hers. "Rest assured, I accept your conditions. I will treat you with the dignity you deserve, not as a common tool but as a cherished partner. Your value extends far beyond a vessel for my desires."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper. "And as for your final condition, consider it accepted... and embraced."
With that, Sans closed the distance between them, his hand gently cupping her cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his bony fingers trailing over her skin with the lightest of caresses. Their breaths mingled for a moment before his lips found hers in a passionate, yet controlled kiss. It was a fusion of desire and domination, a test of wills and a glimpse into the intensity of what lay ahead. Eliza gasped slightly against his mouth, not genuinely expecting him to call her bluff and kiss her, but she quickly recovered and kissed him back intensely, savoring the feeling of his boney mouth against her own. A spark within her own soul ignited, a feeling of intense comfort and desire burning white hot. When he pulled away, her face was red and hot with a deep blush. She rubbed her sternum instinctively, right above where her soul resided. As their lips parted, he held her gaze, a wicked glimmer in his eyes.
"Consider it a taste, a promise of things to come," he murmured, his voice tinged with dark promises. "Now, Eliza, are you ready to embark on this thrilling journey by my side?"
She nodded again in response to his question.
"Yes. I'll be with you, and stand at your side."
Sans couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph as Eliza responded to his kiss with such fervor. Her submission, her willingness to stand by his side, fueled his sense of dominance and power. He grinned, satisfaction glittering in his eyes.
"Excellent, Eliza," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "I promise you won't regret this decision. Together, we shall conquer this depraved city and leave our mark on its wretched streets."
He stood, stepping away from her, allowing her space to collect herself. "Remember, Eliza, you are mine now. Your loyalty, obedience, and devotion belong to me alone. In return, I shall offer you protection and an existence of unimaginable comfort and power."
He observed her flushed face with a predatory glimmer in his eyes, his presence radiating with an air of authority. "Now, my dear, we have much to discuss and our journey is just beginning. But for now, let us revel in the triumph of our union."
With a flash of golden rings on his fingers and a devilish grin, Sans extended his arm towards her. "Shall we, Eliza? There's a world waiting to be conquered at our feet."
Eliza stood and took his arm, interlocking her own with it. "But of course.. I'm ready as I'll ever be."
She smiled softly at him, despite her body and mind still reeling from the intensity of the kiss they had shared, as well as the strange feelings of adoration and respect for Sans bubbling up in her chest. She was a bit alarmed at her own submission to him, and she tried not to dwell on it, knowing her submission would have either come willingly of her own volition, or through Sans force and possibly violence, an act of breaking her spirit. Though a small voice in the back of her mind whispered an insistent protest of that thought, vehemently exclaiming he would have never done such a thing to her, nor truly caused her harm.
'What the hell? C'mon brain… function properly!' she scolded herself internally. Again her sternum ached, and the urge to soothe the dull pain rose again. Sans glanced down at her hand as it pressed against her chest, a flicker of worry in his eyes before it was replaced by a sense of contentment. "Come along, Eliza. We have things to attend to." He led her from the bedroom and down the staircase, and to a small guest room on the first floor. It was bland and plain compared to his own room, or most of the rest of his home, but Eliza appreciated the sight of it nonetheless.
"You can sleep here for tonight, if it suits you." His voice was matter of fact, no negative or positive emotions holding any sway on his words. Releasing her arm, he stepped backwards once, an unreadable expression on his face. Eliza gave a sincere smile, and thanked him," Yeah, it'll be fine. I appreciate it, Mr. Gaster." Sans seemed amused by her formality, but said nothing of it. "Good night, Eliza." With that, he departed, leaving her alone in the unfamiliar room. She pulled the bedspread back, and curled up in the lavish bed, slipping into sleep quickly.
Back upstairs in his own room, Sans was in a state of despair and stress. How was he going to tell her? How would he even begin to do so? He picked up the phone sitting on his nightstand, and dialed out his elder brothers number on the rotary phone.
It rang twice before it was answered.
"Wingdings Gaster, what may I do for you?" The mobster sounded tired, which was understandable. He and Judy had 4 children between the two of them, a 5 year old set of twin boys, a 4 year old girl, and a 2 year old son, on top of his duties within the family business.
"Wings, it's Sans. I… I need help." Sans sighed, hating the feeling of weakness at admitting his shortcomings.
"Ah, and what circumstances would you be needing assistance, dear brother?"
"It's my soulmate. I found her. And uh… it's bad, Wings. Real bad, I think. I messed up."
Wings sighed, an annoyed and tired sound. "What have you done, Sans!? Your mate should be the one you cherish most, and protect. What. Did. You. Do!?"
Sans winced a bit at the anger in his elder brother's voice as he spoke sharply. Sans gripped his forehead as he confessed his actions. "Kinda had my men try and beat her into doing what I wanted… And I mean literally beat."
"Sans! What the hell!?"
"Wait, wait, it's not that bad, she ended up holding her own for a shocking amount of time!"
"Sans!! Not the point!" Wings snapped.
Sans cringed again, his grip on his own face tightening, and a red flush of magic tinting his cheekbones.
"Yeah, you're right… I also uh… brought her back to my place, and ended up strong-arming her into working for us, and then killed two other mobsters in front of her. It's the woman I had Judy take shopping. But, if it's any consolation I didn't know she was my soulmate til tonight. It hadn't really clicked with my magic before that."
Wings let out an exasperated growl. "Brother, you truly are the best at digging your own grave. You're going to have to work twice as hard to rectify this situation, especially since she's human, she's not going to recognize her soul the way we would. Have you done anything to properly woo her?"
Sans was quiet for a long time, sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Wingdings sensed the unease in his brother, and let out a deep sigh, his voice holding a warning tone.
"Brother… tell me what you've done to the poor girl."
In retaliation to his brothers assumption he had harmed her, Sans growled lowly.
"Hey! I ain't done anything to hurt her. She agreed to it on her own!" Sans shut his jaw with an audible click as he realized his idiocy.
"...Agreed to what, exactly?" Wings voice was deathly quiet.
"She… agreed to be with me. Romantically, I think. I asked her to be my lover, and eventually marry me."
"Brother. Do you have any idea how much of an ass backwards idiot you are?! You're supposed to do these things properly! Human courting is much different than between monsters! I don't even know why I'm explaining this though, as this woman is clearly as unhinged as you are to have just…agreed!? Of her own free will?! Stars, Sans, what the fuck!?" Sans wilted under his brother's berating, and groaned in frustrated annoyance.
"Just… shut up, Wings. It'll work out. You'll see. It has to. She's my soulmate after all."
Wingdings started to speak, but was interrupted by the sounds of two of his children crying, and his own soulmate calling for his help in resolving the issue which had caused said crying.
"I have to go, brother, Judy needs my help. Either way, my advice to you is this: treat her well, let her set the pace, and don't. fuck. this. up! Goodnight." The line clicked and went dead, leaving Sans holding the phone to his skull dumbly for a second before also hanging it up. 'Don't fuck it up, eh? Don't plan on it, Wings.' Sans smiled slightly to himself, moving to his bed and laying down, staring at the ceiling and thinking over his current situation before drifting off to sleep.
Submarine_ship on Chapter 1 Fri 20 Dec 2024 03:08PM UTC
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no_thoughts_head_empty_TwT on Chapter 1 Mon 23 Dec 2024 10:29AM UTC
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C (Guest) on Chapter 6 Sat 29 Jul 2023 02:01PM UTC
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