This is an optional decimal chapter ;)
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"T-time?" I kicked a rock.
"Ten years, two months, three weeks, one day, seven hours, five minutes, and thirty-two seconds." Paps responded.
"How m-much food d-do we have left?"
"Not a lot. If you can ration it further, you might want to."
"Y-you're the best, P-Paps."
"Your stuttering is getting worse, brother."
"I kn-know."
"Do you think Alphys had a magic deficiency? She stuttered often."
"N-no. This s-side effect on-only comes late i-in a de-def-defic..agh! I c-can't even s-say it!"
"I understand you, Murder. No need to get worked up."
"Thanks, P-Paps. You're the b-best."
"I am the Great Papyrus!"
"Ind-deed."
Talking with Papyrus was an easy way to get away from my thoughts; he always had something on his mind, which helped me get away from mine. My mind was a jumble of phrases, craziness, and unintelligible words I had probably made up. Near solitude for over ten years could really take a toll on a fragile mind, such as mine. Paps kept me near-sane, but sometimes the thoughts would prevail, and things got bad. I would drift into different thoughts, sometimes even focusing on two things at once, and making sense of both, while other times, I couldn't focus on anything. It was frustrating and I hated it, but I couldn't fix my mind. My mind was far past broken, and I doubted that even Paps could pick up all the pieces; I would never be considered fully sane, and I accepted that, as hard as it was. I was insane from the moment I even thought of killing everybody in the underground, if I was honest about it. With all the random thoughts floating around my head, I was surprised I even had a mind left. Sometimes I would even respond to one of Papyrus's questions with something ridiculous, such as "Blue," Or "Papaya." I was really too far gone by this point to consider saving.
"Murder! Pay attention! You walked into a tree!" Paps stated.
"Oh. S-sorry, Paps. You're t-the best." I responded.
"You need some sleep. Go home, brother."
"Ok-okay Paps."
I journeyed to my house, which was close by. I closed my door as I entered the house, and skipped up to my room, although slower than I did in the past. The rationing of food was split into longer periods of time as the supplies available diminished, and I was feeling the effects. I had ceased using all types of magic, barring the magic that was keeping me alive, and forced myself to walk everywhere. Paps argued that I was becoming more responsible, but I just called it 'closer to death.' Even if this torture was horrible, I wasn't going to kill myself: this is what I deserved, and death before it came naturally would be cowardly. I was a lot of things - a murderer, a traitor, and even insane, - but I was not a coward. If I was going to die, it would come as it would, and that was the end of it.
"Good night, brother." Paps wished.
"N-night, Paps." I found myself on the floor. I didn't even realize I was there.
I closed my eyesockets with the intent to fall asleep, and began to see dust clouding my vision. This was a nightmare, I realized, when the screams started to come. I wasn't sure if I had fallen asleep until the screams came. They were what made me know I was asleep. When I walked in the forest, there was still dust, but it was silent. In my prison, there was either deafening silence, or loud sounds. I couldn't hear anything at normal levels anymore: it was either too loud or not loud enough. I had tried to create sounds, or even just sit next to the core, listening to the humming, but it couldn't compare to what I was used to. I missed Snowin. I missed everybody. Why did I kill them?! Why did I think that would accomplish anything at all?! Didn't I see this outcome, or even think about outcomes at all? I obviously didn't, since I was in this situation.
When the screams ended, I was awake again, or I thought I was: I couldn't tell anymore. Sometimes I thought I was dreaming when I wasn't, or thought I was awake in a dream. I didn't care anymore either; I had no cause to care. I guess I finally understood the kid. They didn't care about us; they didn't care about the death, or the consequences, because they had none. With the power to reset time, they had no consequences for their actions: they even chose the time they would die. I was just a pawn in their game that thought I could make a difference. It was a mistake thinking I could stop them, and now that I had, I just made things worse. Everybody was dead due to the consequences of my actions, while they would still be somewhat alive, even if in a loop, if I had let the kid go. They didn't remember the resets, so why should I have done anything? I was being selfish; I shouldn't have done it. I did do it though, and I don't even regret it! Why can't I force myself to feel guilt for killing everybody I loved?! It's the only emotion I should be feeling, and it's the only one I don't get?
"Brother, you are lost in thought again." Paps brought me back.
"S-sorry, P-Paps." I apologized. "You're the b-best."
"Take it easy, Murder. "
"Ok-okay, Paps."
Paps let me get up at my own pace, which was nice. When I did eventually get standing, after a little stumbling, I held my hood on my skull tighter, and looked at Paps; he was worried about me, and I was worried about him, too. What was he going to do when I was gone? An empty wasteland was no place for a young ghost to be living. I hoped he wouldn't get lonely without me: I couldn't bear the thought of Paps having to be alone. As I continued my torture, many thoughts like these crossed my mind often, and they probably weren't going away anytime soon. When Paps wasn't speaking, I had nothing but the thoughts that plagued my mind, and they were anything but pleasant.
I wondered how much longer I would last.
~~~decimal end woot~~~
Murder bean thinks.
Thanks for reading my thoughtful writing!
Bye!
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From Murder to Dust
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