Chapter Text
Lark woke up in a pool of sweat, his heart beating so hard he could feel his blood pumping in his clenched teeth. His eye lights ignited with an audible POP inside his eye sockets as they sprang fully open. Above him was the same ole ceiling he'd seen for years now, yellowing a little more with the passage of time.
Though he recognized it, he didn't know who he was for a second or where or how he'd gotten here. Sitting up quickly, his skull turned quickly one way then the other, the whites of his eye lights rounding out as they focused. He was on a bed in a plain room with minimal personable objects in it and just a few pieces of standard furniture. He was, in a room...his room. His room at the facility he'd been put in.
Quickly he clambered out of bed, not knowing why he was still feeling so terrified and confused. His bony feet hit the floor and his knee buckled, sending him clacking across the cold tiles on his hands and hip. Ignoring the pain, he stood, feeling a pressure suddenly spur him on from the bottom of his ribs. He knocked open the bathroom door and didn't make it in time to the toilet.
Lark puked all over the floor, drenching the bathmat in digested dinner from the day before. He stayed doubled over, phalanges gripping at his kneecaps. It took several seconds for the roiling of his insides to subside enough and let him shakily straighten. He caught himself in the mirror, string of chunky vomit hanging off lip-less teeth.
A stranger he'd come to know as himself stared back at him. The skull of someone who should be dead but was very much alive peered back. He couldn't recall anymore what he'd looked like as a human. All he remembered of his old life was his last day of elementary school. He'd graduated and was about to enjoy a long summer before taking the next step towards adulthood.
Then the mountain EXPLODED, bathing the city in wild magic.
His skull face cringed, the brow of it creasing till he felt his belly settling and his teeth parted to let out a rancid sigh. His enemies called him a "ghoul" and...well...he couldn't deny what he looked like. Not a full skeleton, he had a body between his bones. Flesh as black as oil extended from under his skull, giving him a throat, a chest with pecks cradled by ribs. His stomach sagged below, just the very ends of his hipbones poking through the meat. Both arms and legs were filled out except for his digits and his knuckles.
Anatomically he...didn't make sense. But monsters, don't make sense. He wasn't really a monster, or a human, yet both at the same time? He didn't dwell on it and it's been so long, he didn't remember being human all that well anyway.
He's in his thirties now. This is his life, and not just his curse either. Lots of other children had been turned at the same time. Half of a generation, lost.
Reoriented now, he wiped his teeth off on the back of his hand and kicked the ruined mat away. Turning on the sink, he leaned down and washed his jaws out, trying to get the taste of bile to go away before it made him sick again. Was he sick? He could still catch colds and be poisoned by food so it was possible. Being one of the more...physical of his kind meant he could suffer with illness while the more magical ones rarely came down with anything.
In the midst of trying to figure out if he was sick, or had just had some terrible nightmare he couldn't recall, his eye lights snapped towards the bathroom door inexplicably. He stared through it towards the entrance of his room, counting down to the exact moment it opened.
A yellow lizard monster scooted in. Alphys was her name and she always carried around a tablet that her claws tapped at constantly. She was the overseer of the facility, responsible for the creatures that once lived in it. Lately, Lark was the only one left here. Everyone else had found a "teacher" to take them in. Or so the monsters said. Lark didn't trust that his kind were actually leaving this place and not just being sold off.
That's how monsters got a hold of them in the first place after all. Lark had been bought from the humans who'd kept him and others in stifling labs and cages. He shuddered at the things he tried to forget threatening to surface.
"Lark guess what-" Alphys spoke up excitedly, her tone familiar and Lark's spiraling mood froze. He felt like she was going to say more, say something he'd never thought she'd say. But she didn't and instead rapidly looked around till she spotted him in the bathroom. Her clawed feet clicked quickly over to the doorway, glasses pinched and held tight to her snout as she scrutinized the disheveled state of him.
Covered in sweat, legs shaky, vomit splattered floor mat beside him, still in his sleep shorts, he wasn't exactly a picture of normalcy this morning.
"Oh gosh! A-are y-you sick Lark?" Alphys asked, coming more into the bathroom and getting right up beside him. Being only four-foot-something, Lark was a few inches shorter than her, having to look up slightly as she put a hand on his shoulder. At first he thought to deny it but...something...something was wrong.
What was wrong?
"I think...so?" he answered uncertain of himself but feeling the lightening of his inner twisting, his anxiety relenting at what felt like a good answer. He needed to stall...for some reason.
She put her palm on his forehead for a few seconds before petting the entirety of his cranium gently, her claws ending on his bent back. He looked down at the counter he still leaned on, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat.
"Y-you don't feel f-feverish but..." she blinked and tilted her frilled head to better see him. "Come on. B-back to bed, I will get y-you some sea tea." She smiled, buckteeth on full display. Lark exhaled the tension, afraid at first she'd want him down in her infirmary...hooked up to her strange machines. He really hated the soul-stuff she did some times.
Feeling unsteady but not horrible, Lark moved back to the bed, Alphys hovering beside him till he crawled in. The sheets were damp and cold now. "What uh...what'd you come in here for by the way?" Lark settled back into a laying position, covering himself with the blanket to feel less exposed to the monster hovering over him. Her worried expression morphed into a big smile of excitement.
"OH! J-just the b-best news ever!" She exclaimed and his teeth curved into a wary smile at the sparkles in her eyes. "You've got a mentor! Finally! You- um..." Her elation paused as all the warmth drained out of Lark's face. His expressive skull dropped the grin and his eye lights shrank and darted away from her. The suddenly rush of terror was inexplicable at first...till he really thought about it.
A mentor.
Someone finally bought him.
"I-" he coughed, shriveled eye lights rocking back onto the monster's confused face. "I don't really...need a mentor though right?" He shrugged at her, trying to appear calmer despite the panic inside. "No-no magical powers after all." He lifted his hand at her, palm up, phalanges wiggling. Lark couldn't conjure a bullet or fart even a puff of magic. He figured that's why he'd been here so long without any interest. Others were more in need of guidance and control. Especially the elemental ones who'd burned down the hallways before.
"I thought you'd be more ex-excited." Alphys gave him a pitying smile, her claws clasping the hand he'd held out. "This is your chance to get out of here, and-and start your n-new life among us monsters." She explained why this was a good thing. And it was, he supposed. He'd been rotting in here for five years, two of which had been spent completely alone other than the staff that took care of him.
"I guess...I am." Something is wrong.
"Don't be afraid." Alphys gripped his hand harder, drawing his eye lights to her eye balls. "You're going to good monsters and...y-you have magic. P-p-plenty of it. Maybe...they can help you...find it..." she trailed off in her little encouraging speech, her expression oddly taunt till her snout relaxed and her gaze returned to him instead of drifting downwards.
"If you say so." Lark took his hand back from her and pulled it under the blanket. Empty, her claws clasped each other instead, hope on her slightly pudgy features. She was a cute looking creature he had to admit. He also had to admit to seeing something behind it. Something haunted in the depths of her pupils.
"W-well...you were s-suppose to meet your mentor today but, I'll reschedule it." She dipped her nose at him worriedly. He must still look like shit but the relief inside was powerful, if not fleeting.
When she left, he stewed in his trepidation. Why was he so...afraid? What was wrong? Truthfully he'd never looked forward to getting sold...adopted...loaned out? to a stranger. A strange monster. It sounded weird and risky and he had no trust for anyone in this world but himself. But he still wanted to get out of here. Maybe actually have the life he'd been denied.
But something is wrong.
Lark sighed and shut his sockets, trying to sleep off whatever illness he was under that made him so anxious. He did feel a little better, breathing easier knowing he wouldn't meet his takers today. The déjà vu was staved off and his head felt lighter for it. Up till the point Alphys had found him in the bathroom, he'd sworn he knew what was to come. But the future that could be, was so blurry. It existed fresh somewhere ahead of him but he was turning his face away from it, trying to go somewhere different.
Or that's what his feverish brain was coming up with. The mind really does do strange shit when the body is in distress. He hoped the fever dream awaiting him wouldn't be too intense and he could wake up with the chill of it breaking and himself getting back to normal. Be a hell of a thing to meet the monster he was going to live with and freak them out with health issues.
He just needed to sleep.
And he juuuuust about managed it, when a strange noise pulled his consciousness back. His eye sockets opened slowly to the same ceiling, but there was something...odd about it. Had there always been a crack in it? A crack filled with white light?
In the quiet all around him, there came a buzzing. It was steady, quiet, then incredibly loud as it hit a pitch that hurt his eardrums. He jerked upright, crawling backwards into the iron headboard, eye lights planted on the widening crack. It yawned apart, shedding debris that didn't make it to the floor. The bits of drywall merely fragmented out of existence, flashing blue and red before disappearing.
Lark didn't get to scream. His voice caught as threads of blue appeared from the thin air, loose at first, then incredibly taunt, cutting right through his chest. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, couldn't comprehend what was happening as his chest involuntarily bucked forward. Something strained inside and his heart ping-ponged off the insides of his chest cavity. Was he about to have a heart attack? Was this it? His whole miserable life ending here and now, like this?
His hands gnarled around the threads, grasping their incredibly thin and sharp lengths. He didn't have the strength or wherewithal to yank, to pull, he could only shakily grab and choke, unable to draw a breath.
"Not sure how you've slipped by me for so long," a disjointed voice, garbled at first, but then piercingly clear came from the white hole above. Lark's tiny eye lights rocked back up, following the threads to the red and yellow phalanges that were pulling them so tight. The hand belonged to a creature leaning out of the hole. Lit by the backdrop of a white void, a black skull streaked with blue, eye sockets filled with red, teeth as yellow as a smoker's, grinned down at him.
Clothed in a bulky black hoodie, the thing from the ceiling retracted his hand further and Lark's entire body left the mattress. Snatched like he weighed nothing. The being's other hand reached for him, finger tips shimmering with barely seen threads floating nearby like disconnected spider silk. Lark was nearly within grabbing distance when the pressure pulling him one way, split in two.
His vision darkened as something terribly cold and wet shot around him, slithering like twin snakes to either side of his throat and through his armpits. Tentacles. Moist and as a black as ink, the slimy appendages wrapped around his entire chest with the tips coming together to hook the threads. A dark vapor emitted from where they made contact with the shiny blue strands.
"FuCk OfF!!!!11" The voice of the thing from the ceiling fried as if coming through blown speakers, that stained smile morphing into a strained scowl. A new source of light erupted over everything then, outlining the being on the ceiling in stinging gold. He recoiled and the tentacles tightened their hold uncomfortably.
Lark dared to blink, missing the arrival of an arrow made of blue light. When his sight returned it was just there, plunging into the tentacles and the strings, burning both on contact and millimeters away from gouging skin. Lark gasped, the pressure on him suddenly gone and his body falling. He hit the bed, realizing the entire thing was enveloped in the webbing between the tentacles. They writhed and obscured the view of his room, of his exits.
He cursed but couldn't hear his own voice as skulls...black...skulls...blasters appeared. His déjà vu came back in a nauseous wave, crashing down upon him at the sight of many maws opening wide, white-hot power building between the teeth. He'd never seen such things yet he knew them well and knew the doom they brought.
There was no air to scream, it was all burning away.
His stability on the bed suddenly sank, the feeling of the sheets, the mattress, just gone. Before he could properly fall backwards into whatever had opened up beneath him, what felt like massive hands grabbed either of his upper arms. He was pulled down into utter darkness, his physical orientation flipping with a quick change in gravity that had him immediately puking all over himself once torn from the shadows back into dim light.
"Ah fuckin' gross!" Someone complained before laughing in a gravelly way.
"I just cleaned this floor..." A lighter voice commented.
Lark dry heaved, his entire body straining as he was kept upright and hanging mid-air. He could barely understand anything anymore, not the breathing above him nor the continued bickering of the blurry things beside him. Ahead of him, that darkness shrank inwards, another hole, but devoid of any light. It closed completely and faded wallpaper came into focus.
He sucked in air, practically gasping and tasting the bile coating his mouth once again. His eye lights could get no smaller as they shot around, his senses returning enough to start to struggle in the grip that held him like a vice.
"What even is that?" The scratchy voice shot his eyes to it and they stuck on a familiar skull-face. Round and marked with scars, the face of a skeleton monster stretched with a twisted grin. Sharp teeth filled the mouth, one a replica cast in silver. Lark caught his terrified reflection in it, not realizing just how much sweat was pouring down his skull. Two empty eye sockets stared widely back at him with strange gray stains like tear-tracks running over the guy's cheekbones into the corners of his grin.
He was dressed in a black bomber jacket, the only expensive looking thing on him compared to the old red turtle neck beneath it and faded black shorts. Lark didn't bother looking at his feet. Didn't seem important right now, not when all thoughts were put on pause at the sight of a hovering target glowing a noxious ruby red between the lapels. Was that...his soul? Lark had learned about souls once within monster custody. They weren't shaped any other way but a heart so, it couldn't be one. This stranger stepped too close and breathed cold air on him. Something about the touch of that exhalation dropped Lark's heart into his stomach and clogged his nose hole with the stench of a stale ashtray and motor oil.
"I ain't ever seen a skeleton like this before." The stranger squinted those black eye socket and lifted a hand, dirty stained phalanges coming towards Lark's throat. "s'that fuckin' skin?" Lark pulled his skull backwards, trying to avoid the incoming touch.
"Let me feel too!" Another skeleton, slightly smaller than bomber-jacket shoved said monster aside. He took the guy's spot, his grin just as wide but wilder. His eye lights were more like irises, one a burning red ring, the other a cool faded blue. He had flat teeth but just as many scars over his more youthful face. Rather than simple clothes, he wore what looked to be beat up armor that might've been blue once upon a time. Now it was scorched and scratched and clearly repaired many times over.
A guard uniform?
The dark blue of his gloved finger tips poked at Lark's jugular curiously. He didn't prod too harshly but Lark's panic increased when he suddenly grabbed hold of his entire neck. Bigger, his long fingers almost closed completely around Lark's airway, squeezing to the point he felt his blood pressure rise inside his skull. The monster merely smiled wider, fascination piqued as something devious glinted in his eyes.
"Dust ya fuckin' wackjob!" Bomber-jacket hooked his arm around Dust's own, more bony neck, wrenching his entire body backwards in a forceful headlock. Dust lost his grip on Lark who gasped for a puke-flavored breath and hacked. "Ya shove me like that again and I'll-" Bomber-jacket opened his mouth wide, his razor teeth about to bite the other monster's bony brow off.
"...s'like livin' in a loony bin sometimes." Lark's shoulders were going numb till whatever giant was holding him lifted him higher. Their voice was deep...deeply familiar. His view shifted as he was turned away from the others who were now full on fighting on the floor, trying to shove each other into the pile of puke. He got lowered towards a stool beside a worn-out island, an array of pots and pans hanging above it.
A kitchen. He was in a kitchen. It appeared clean but very old with stone peeking out behind cracked plaster and peeling wallpaper. Despite the age and damage, the ceiling was gilded ornately with hanging lights at its center...looking out of place. Additions maybe.
Lark's butt got set on the seat of the stool, his chest pressed into the old wood of the island. Finally the grip on his arms released, letting the blood flow back into his cold phalanges and palms. He sat there, stiff as a board, gripping the seat and glancing at the fight nearby, and the two exits out of this large room. Getting away from them seemed in his best interest. These monsters weren't right. He could feel it, something incredibly foreboding filling up the space, chasing away all sense of security.
He was in danger.
His shriveled eye lights shot to a large shadow moving around the island from behind him. Much, much bigger than the other two, this skeleton towered over all. One bloated red eye ball stared down at him, the neighboring eye socket appearing to be broken. Lacking eye ball or eye light, it sported a giant crack that traveled straight through to the top of this monster's mouth. Where the crack ended, a gold tooth sat, filling up the chipped space. His teeth too were sharp but...not perfectly fitting together. Crooked. The replica also appeared too small, like the jaws around it had outgrown it.
Another skeleton. Similar in appearance to the others Lark wondered if they were brothers or related in some other way. He couldn't explain why exactly, but his shoulders dropped as he felt...a shred of recognition, of calm in the features of a familiar face. But he didn't know this guy.
And yet.
Beyond the damage, there were things that Lark somehow knew should be there. The shape of this guy was correct. He had massive shoulders, his chest spanning the distance between them and a gut contained in a gray vest buttoned up tightly over it. A dusty overcoat covered up the big bones and enigmatic "muscles" of both arms which were now used to support the monster as he leaned forward on the island.
Lark glanced down numbly at the monster's hands. They were thick, bones structured more like armor and nicked and gnawed with scars. No rings though. That didn't seem right. A rumble like far away thunder shot Lark's attention back to the stranger's deformed face, noticing the last familiar detail a top his big skull. A trillby hat. A massive one that might've been black in a distant past but was graying and fraying around the brim.
"like what'cha see?" that twisted grin spread like a sickness, ever wider, showing more uneven teeth. The tension returned ten-fold. Lark didn't know this creature at all and his panic immediately hit the surface. He shook in his seat, sweating like a pig on a spit. His whole body jerked sideways, a leg swinging off the stool only for a large hand to clap over his entire cranium. Gripped like a basket ball in the hands of a six foot, nine inches player, the monster very easily pulled him back into the center of the stool. He became rigored again with terror till released.
The giant casually wiped his hand off on a kerchief pulled from his pocket, taking extra care around the rough edges of his joints. "jus' sit tight till the boss gets here alright? ya want a drink? it'll wash out the barf in your mouth," he stuffed the kerchief back into his pocket and reached for something under the island. The second he brought out a bottle of gin and set it down, bomber-jacket and Dust were just suddenly there.
"Pour me one," Bomber-jacket plopped himself down beside Lark while Dust did the same opposite him. Sandwich between the bigger monsters, Lark swallowed what felt like sandpaper while trying to avoid all eye-contact with them.
"i'd rather bust this bottle upside your fuckin' greasy skull," Lark jumped when the biggest of them all switched gears so fast. He had the whole bottle lifted and pointed at bomber-jacket's face, the glass nearly touching those teeth.
"Are you still on the rag about those goddamn cigars? I told ya I was sorry and ya nearly bit my head off for it!" Bomber-jacket met the bigger beast's glower with his own, both of them more similar than Dust in appearance. Not that Lark dared to stare at either of them for too long. His ass was at the edge of his seat again, ready to bolt if they attacked each other.
"Heh heh, literally." Bomber-jacket suddenly leaned in towards Lark and elbowed him roughly in the ribs, making him flinch while stage-whispering. Trillby-hat snorted at him, his scowl turning into a lopsided smirk that felt no lighter. He set the bottle back down and reached under the island again, pulling up four mismatched glasses. Setting them in a line, he unscrewed the bottle an poured them each what looked like a shot.
Lark stared into his glass once it got shoved towards him, the clear liquid at the bottom of it sloshing, releasing a pungent scent. All around him the skeletons were knocking theirs back. Bomber-jacket appeared unphased and slid his glass back for more. Trillby-hat poured him another as well as refilling his own glass. Dust visibly shuddered after downing his, making a disgusted face and putting his glass off to the side.
"'ey, don't waste it." Lark was put on the spot by trillby-hat, the sweat on his face dripping down off his chin. He watched the drop splat on the counter near the glass.
"I don't..." he began to speak but it died as all three of them turned to look at him.
"Ya don't drink?" Bomber-jacket didn't contain the snicker that escaped between his teeth. "You will, if you last long enough." He leaned in and poked the glass closer to Lark.
"What is that...suppose to mean?" Lark shifted away from him only to correct himself so as not to get too close to Dust either. Caught between a rock, a hard place, and a mountain. Still, his nerves were shot and his fears were growing frustrations. "What the hell is even going on? Who are you people?"
Bomber-jacket rested his skull in the palm of his hand and lazily looked towards trillby-hat, free hand making an inviting gesture. "Yeah, why is he here and not in pieces all over the floor?" Lark shot him a concerned and flabbergasted look which he thoroughly seemed to like, considering the wink he gave in return.
"I'm still unclear as to what he even is." Dust piped up, sitting more at attention with his intense eye lights burning holes into the side of Lark's skull.
"the boss'll fill us in on that...hopefully." Trillby-hat stated with little confidence. He passed his eye ball onto Lark before pointing at Dust.
"s'Dust, n'that's Killer." His finger moved to bomber-jacket. "i'm called Horror." He touched his own chest, grin picking up at the edges. "and you're our uh...hmmm..." he leaned one hand on the island while the other itched up under his hat, revealing the crack went all the way up his forehead towards somewhere unseen. His eye grew distant, the pupil of it dilating as he went quiet.
Silence.
Dust's armor creaked as he shifted his weight impatiently, frowning at Horror while Lark was merely soaking in those names. What kind of names were those? whatthefuck.... On his opposite, Killer appeared to have fallen asleep still propped by his arm. Lark dared to stare at the glowing target phasing through his clothes, the shape of it static but the red appeared to swirl or, pulse.
"I should be second in command...not this half-brained dried up gangster...." Dust mumbled, already looking at Lark when he turned his head towards the guy. Lark regretted making eye-contact because that seemed to invite Dust to engage with him directly. The odd monster's smile brightened at him and if Lark didn't feel the danger, he could easily be fooled into thinking this monster was pleasant. Friendly.
"I ran the Royal Guard back home you know. Appointed myself Captain and everything." Dust said, something in his tone off.
"Ran it into the ground is more like it." Killer wasn't asleep but Lark didn't take his eyes off Dust. The excitable skeleton's eye sockets narrowed just the slightest, his gaze shifting enough to no doubt stare through Lark at Killer.
"You should come here and say that to my face." Dust said it in a friendly way which made it worse some how.
"Do you need ta go outside and blow off steam or somethin'? Or better yet, go blow your head off?" Killer cracked an empty eye socket open, big shit-eating grin half-squished by his palm. "I know where Horror keeps his guns."
Lark nearly shit when Dust slammed his fist into the island, splitting the wood of it. Killer laughed, Lark's gin tipped and spilled into his lap, and Horror's eye finally moved. He unfroze and looked down at them, pupil going back to its normal size.
"yer a prisoner, for now." he answered but paused, confusion crossing his brow while noticing some differences he'd missed. "jus' cause i fade off for a sec don't mean you two can start flingin' shit at each other. fuckin' look't at this." He gestured angrily at the spilled gin and the big crack in the island under Dust's fist.
"What? You don't have to deal with it, I do." Dust snapped back, his smile never leaving his face but it grew thinner. "I'm the only one that cleans and cooks so this is MY kitchen, and I'll break what I want." He challenged the bigger monster and Horror simply rolled his eye, not taking the bait. Killer huffed, appearing disappointed as the fight ended before it even began.
"Ya do know if you jus' stopped cleaning we wouldn't give a damn right?" he chuckled, his empty sockets barely open while he dug a finger into his nose cavity. "Perfectly adept at livin' in my own filth. Prefer it actually."
"If your filth would stay contained I'd let you rot in it but as it stands, it never does." Dust looked away from them all, providing an opportunity for Lark to shift his butt closer to the back of the stool. He kept holding onto the sides of it, his spine ramrod straight and starting ache. The banter did help his nerves settle down but not by much. He needed to get away from them somehow. Get out of this...house? This seemed like a house.
How the hell did he get into their house?
"...are...are you guys...brothers?" it took all his courage to speak in the awkward quiet. There were so many questions to ask but the wrong one might get him killed, but keeping them distracted with each other was his only plan. All three were starting to stare into space, waiting for "the boss", whoever, or whatever that was. Now they all three were staring at him, taking too long to answer his question.
"We're the same person." Killer replied and pointed from Horror to Dust then to himself. Lark eyed him stupidly back which made him grin bigger. "Sans." He again pointed at Dust. "Saaaaaans." At Horror. "Sans." At himself.
"I don't get it..." Lark blinked at him, wondering what kind of game this was and why...that name sounded familiar. He'd never met a "Sans" he was sure.
"We are from different versions of the same world." Dust huffed. "Or so they tell me...but these two are nothing like me."
"aw yes we are," Horror crossed his arms, big smile directed down at Dust. "you're just as lazy as us."
"That is a ridiculous statement." Dust narrowed his sockets up at Horror.
"I've seen your room." Killer said, tearing Dust's heated eye lights off the bigger skeleton. "You might clean out 'ere regularly...but your room fuckin' reeks."
Dust looked ready to combat Killer, Horror merely appearing amused by it all. Then everything went dark. The smell of the kitchen became acrid and the air went chilly as winter wind, tearing through their clothes. Lark only had on his sleeping shorts and nothing else to stop the air from biting his vulnerable skin. He hunched at the sudden frigidness, his eye lights expanding. The others didn't seem bothered at all, just more attentive to their surroundings and very, very still.
He stayed still too.
Till something big fell from the ceiling of the room. The lights flickered as the mass dripped to the floor, several long inky appendages splattering in every direction, several glowing arrows sticking out from them along with chunks taken out from the thicker areas. In the midst of the dead tentacles, a body stood from its heavy landing, oozing and too black to see the details except for one. A violet iris burned with all the radiation of a black light, flicking up at Horror as he turned around, then away at the fleeing figure heading out the door.
Lark made it into a short hallway that exited into a big sitting room filled with a large flatscreen TV, three couches, and some other stuff he didn't bother to absorb. His only thought was to seek an exit, be it door, or window. His bare feet carried him as quickly as they could, running on adrenaline and pure terror. It made him hyper aware if nothing else when the air around him again shifted.
He stumbled as large bones struck up from the floor and crashed into the ceiling. They were transparent blue and he couldn't stop in time to avoid going right through them into another hallway. No sooner had he made contact did he feel a burning pain strike through every inch of himself. His skin sizzled and his exoskeleton smoked on the way out the other side, the shock sending him down to his knees. He landed hard, catching himself with his burning palms as a pair of scuffed blue boots stood ahead. His skull lifted just enough to glimpse Dust staring down at him.
The armored monster appeared pretty pleased with his hands on his hips. He didn't say anything when he went ahead and kicked Lark in the teeth. Tasting rubber and leather and the grit of dirt, Lark's head whipped backwards, his body falling to the side as his hands left the floor to clap over his busted mouth. His dark blood came pouring out between his fingers, his tongue bitten and gushing too much to swallow it all.
"We got a bleeder!" Dust called out while Lark writhed on the floor of the hall. He'd been kicked in the gut before, but never in the face. In the teeth.
"Ya stupid idiot." Killer was here now, right beside Dust. Lark couldn't explain how they both were in the hall and not behind him like they should be. He couldn't really think at all as his heart pounded in his ear holes. "Where you gonna go? Heh heh! Ain't nowhere ta hide." Killer squat down near Lark's head, but backed away from him, Dust too when a shadow extended over them all.
The cold and wet wrapped around Lark's throat first, taking his hands off his loosened teeth. One of his incisors fell completely out, catching his eye as it hit the blackening floor. He gripped the undulating thing around his neck, not yet being choked by it but wheezing all the same through the gap in his grimace.
More tendrils ensnared his whole body from ankles to wrists to chest. He got forced into a starfish pose, flat on his back as the weight of the thing stepping over to straddle him pressed down. Coughing on blood, Lark met the violently violet eye in a skull that dripped drops which never hit the floor or his face. Whatever this was, didn't appear to have a mouth as it extended a hand made of oily black bones. The wet phalanges gnarled and the heart-attack feeling he'd had before returned ten-fold.
Lark growled and gargled on phlegm and blood, tensing to the extreme as his torso arched off the floor. From the center of his chest, light blossomed out of it, accumulating into the shape of a white heart. A soul.
"Whaaaaaat the fuck is that?" Killer spoke but Lark couldn't see him anymore or anyone but his own soul. This wasn't the first time he'd seen it. Alphys had brought it out for testing and medical check ups several times but...it hadn't hurt as much as this. She'd always given him time and her magic was coaxing. This was pure force and he had no time to prepare or realize till it was too late what was even going on.
The thing that did this stood over him, oily phalanges just an inch from the bottom of the floating heart. He could...feel it, the creature snaring him in every way possible. The cold it brought seeped to places Lark didn't even know he had and his painful bloody teeth began to chatter as it stared into his very being. He knew without any doubts it was...merciless, curious, and ravenous.
"wait...is he a...human?" Horror's deep voice came through somewhere to the left.
"I ain't ever seen a human without a trait." Killer responded.
"It isn't without traits, that's the color of a monster's soul," Dust scoffed.
Lark swallowed the wad of blood building in the back of his mouth, wanting nothing more than for this to be a bad dream. Not real. He'd take waking up back in his old room, still in the facility than here, pinned to the floor. Never had he been so afraid and confused, from the moment he'd woken up to now. Please let this be a terrible dream.
The violet eye shifted from his soul to his face. That dripping face tilted and leaned down closer, revealing a nose hole in the ooze. Then the cascade broke around a sharp smile, parting like snot to show pearly white teeth. Said smile could cut diamonds as it pressed down closer to Lark's face. He couldn't get away, only turn away, his eye sockets squinting nearly shut like that'd do anything to protect him.
"Horror...stand closer." It spoke, voice low and quiet, shutting up the light banter about Lark's soul that had sparked. The razor blade smile softened at the corners as that eye lidded. Inexplicably Lark's fears eased. He couldn't comprehend the lifting of them, just the clarity it brought, enough to blink and focus.
Above the creature's melting skull, Horror stepped into view, looking straight down. His hands were in the pockets of his slacks, his expression curious as he did as told. Was this...their boss?
Lark's soul hovered higher, nearer to those pearly teeth, yet he could only feel mildly worried of them biting into his manifested core. "Lark." It spoke his name, eye shifting sideways as it pointed up at Horror. "Do you recognize him?" It questioned. Lark flicked his eye lights back to Horror. With even his pain subsiding, he shakily exhaled, not fully relaxing but paying attention. Did he know this guy?
"He..." Lark's voice came out scratchy and the tendril around his throat loosened. He cleared his airways, feeling blood seepage from the corners of his mouth. "I don't...maybe?" His brow furrowed, trying to concentrate while Horror just stood there, watching. "The-the shape...is correct but...something's wrong." Lark turned his head to see the other two not far down the hall, watching too. He then shot his gaze over everything else. Ceiling and walls and strangers, the feeling in him returning to overwhelm him with panic.
"...something's very wrong..." he tried to wiggle free but the slack got taken back. Once again his throat got pressed by the tightening tentacle, all four of his limps getting stretched a little tighter till his hips and shoulders popped. His voice stifled with a grunt of pain, pain that grew back to what it had been before the calm. Lark wasn't a crier but he nearly went there to find some outlet of release.
The creature's eye brightened, the smile shrinking in the ooze till it disappeared entirely again. It leaned down and released Lark's soul back into his chest where it faded out of this reality. Lark shuddered and clenched his loose teeth, holding his breath at intervals to keep it together.
"So what's...goin' on boss?" Killer came closer, scratching at the top of his head. "We had that big damn fight in this guy's AU yesterday and...ya've been weird ever since." Killer's empty sockets tilted down on Lark. "Now ya go through more trouble to bring 'im here? He's just some half-bred freak-"
"He's obviously one of those turned humans, not a true hybrid. That's impossible in most realities." Dust approached as well, ending up right beside Killer whilst correcting him. Killer scowled at him, but it didn't stick as Dust puffed up where he stood with a know-it-all look on his face. "We've been to a few AUs where the breaking of the barrier affects the humans, turning them into, 'monsters'." He put up his hands and made air-quotes before dropping them to his hips. "There's usually a whole group of our alternates living in the AU as well...don't ask me why that's a thing." Dust shrugged but looked pleased with his knowledge.
"Yes Dust. Very good." The creature chuckled, its smile peeking back out for a second as it regarded the other skeletons coyly. Killer made a fart noise between his fangs to try and ruin Dust's overall, proud moment. It worked just a little, but Dust kept his pose and composure.
"Still doesn't answer my question." Killer got back on track. The creature's whole head turned away from the duo to the biggest of them all expectantly. Killer, Dust, even Lark, looked to Horror as well. Horror began to sweat and shifted his weight as his grin threatened to become a frown.
"well uh..." he didn't start off strong when addressing them. "ya see, i sorta...dusted yesterday in that fight."
"Huh?"
"You what?"
Dust and Killer were staring at Horror, half-believing what was said. Killer was the first to just laugh out of the silence created. "Yer full of shit." He chuckled forcefully but it died behind his teeth when Horror didn't reveal the joke. Instead the big asshole just stood there, looking more disturbed than disturbing for once.
"no..." Horror's brow lowered, he stared at nothing but wasn't spacing out. He was clear and present, but remembering something vividly which wasn't exactly normal for him anymore. "...i fuckin' died." His eye lifted to the others. Killer saw no lie and his eye sockets rounded out.
"Explain." Dust cut right to the point before Killer could say anything. He remained solid looking but Killer could see he was slightly freaked out by the shrinking of his eye lights. His demand, wasn't for Horror though, it was directed right at Nightmare.
Nightmare looked down on the little freak in their house. His aggression eased while Lark shivered, his weird body heaving for breath. It was hard not to stare at his flesh and bones. He looked like a skeleton peeking out of a body in certain places. Very odd.
"Dream shot Horror through the soul with his arrows." Nightmare began in earnest, his pointer finger coming down and pressing into the center of Lark's sternum. The guy visibly held his breath, anticipating the worst. Killer would find this funny if he weren't sweating bullets. Horror had died. He'd blame the bigger monster for hallucinating it all but Nightmare had witnessed it. And Nightmare didn't fuck around like this.
"While you two were dealing with his minions, Horror turned to dust and this...creature," Nightmare went on, his finger leaving Lark's chest. "...brought him back." Killer and Dust and Horror all stayed quiet, witnessing their boss look bewildered, which wasn't something they'd ever seen before on his face. He was at a loss and that made the three monsters very uncertain themselves.
"You don't remember." Nightmare leaned back into Lark's face, picking at it inquisitively. Lark flinched, unable to really do anything. "The AU reset...and you lost a lot of time."
"W-what are you talking about?" Lark asked, his fears and pain being drained again but not completely. He didn't understand, neither did anyone else. Killer and Dust watched Horror who observed what was happening with a haunted dimness in his eye. Nightmare splayed his hand over the creature's face, dragging his phalanges over Lark's forehead and cheek, the long caress repeating.
"Sleep." Nightmare commanded. Lark's discomfort grew with the touching till each pass of those fingers felt like they were drawing out his conscious thoughts. His eye sockets lidded as his fatigue was brought to the forefront and forced to overtake him. The monsters watched him fall away into a deep sleep, all of them very familiar with Nightmare's touch.
"Boss...you ain't lyin'?" Killer stepped even closer, earning a swift glare from the old guardian. He quickly put on a crooked smile, the sweat on his face sliding down. "Course you ain't but..." his sockets tilted onto Lark. Nightmare's teeth appeared with the grin he gave, his tendrils wrapping up more of the limp body, taking it off the floor. Killer wasn't often at a loss for words, or questions, but he found he couldn't form them into something coherent to ask. He didn't know what this meant.
Dust slipped by them both, heading to Horror's side. He's wild eyes were fixed on the larger monster, drawing Horror's attention to him. The second they made eye contact, Horror regretted it.
"What's it like, to dust?" Dust asked quietly, his deceptively innocent face filled with wonder as if such a question were at all whimsical and normal. Though none of them could claim normalcy regardless, Horror didn't like thoughts of dying. He was a ruthless survivor, escaping death many times and...many more to come perhaps. "Did you go somewhere cold and dark? Disperse into the universe? Cease all existence?" Dust was always bad at whispering, his voice more forced with the added weight to his morbid curiosities.
"would ya quit bein' a little weirdo?" Horror growled, shooing him away.
"We lay low for awhile." Nightmare shut them all up. He stood, the creature curled in a tentacle close to his back. He was around the same size as Killer and Dust, and he didn't mind looking up at Horror when he turned to do so. "Killer, check Horror's vitals and whatever else you think could show any changes in him. Later, we will test our guest as well." Killer blinked and stood straighter.
"Right boss." He saluted goofily, masking how serious he was actually going to take this. Horror had died and come back to life? How? Not even Ink could bring the dead back and outcodes like them didn't have the benefit of resets making them immortal. His gaze slipped over to Horror, already coming up with a game plan of what to test. He had the best background for this sort of shit. Horror eyed him back, none too pleased about being ordered to let Killer poke at him.
"Dust, go to the city and retrieve healing items and medical supplies," Nightmare pointed down the hall and Dust sighed dramatically.
"I'm not the errand boy." He hissed through his teeth but the ire in him quieted as Nightmare stilled and dared him to complain more about it.
"All of you get busy." Nightmare finalized his orders and they all nodded at him as he melted into the floor, taking Lark with him. He game dripping back out like a giant loogie from the ceiling of his chambers beneath the manor they lived in.
He had a room on the upper floors but down here was his true domain. Personal affects and useless junk he tended to collect stayed up above, down below, was for business. His corruption coated the walls in places, anchoring objects in place, artifacts he'd stolen or won, scrolls and stone tablets with ancient secrets, jars filled with unique human souls. If all else failed...Lark would look good in the collection.
Was he as bad as Error?
No. He was worse when it came to hoarding. It wasn't just souls he kept.
Reaching the floor with his bare feet, he reformed and held out his arms, catching the limp body of the creature as it dropped down here with him. His smile split the slime on his face as he glanced over this interesting body. He could preserve pieces of it for study later, if Lark didn't dust like a monster. Nightmare hated how they did that. He had a few Undyne helmets displayed on a corrupted shelf nearby, and they would be more impressive with the heads still inside.
He quieted this train of thought quickly, reigning in his madness. It'd gotten a little easier each century to not let himself lose it as often, which was the only reason the three mortals living with him were still alive. They were useful and to be kept alive. Unique among so many others like them and apart of his collection too...in a sense. Now he had another, a trophy snatched from Dream AND Error.
"Heh heh-" Nightmare hoisted his prize up by the armpits. Now he just needed to unlock this being's secrets. Resurrection might not sound impressive but it was rare in this multiverse. True resurrection. Not reset nonsense or determination pulling the falling from the brink. No, this was different. This was a reconstitution of someone who'd shattered.
He'd seen it.
He-
He'd nearly lost Horror.
Nightmare's smile dropped into a snarl. He lowered Lark, one eye wide and mad at everything that had happened. The AU Lark came from belonged to him, and yet Dream had infiltrated it, trying to influence it. How long had he been sneaking around and how many other AUs were getting picked at? Risky behavior from his twin for sure, but uncharacteristically cunning. Devious even. He'd planned to make Dream regret his choices but his brother and his companions got the AU's denizens involved.
Chaos it'd been.
The rage he'd felt then seeped back through the cracks in his shoddy composure. Quickly he released Lark to fall to the slimy floor. His form became boneless and dropped through the floor into the void, the best place to lose it when needed.