VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Prologue

It's the dread that does it. You can prepare, you can expect, you can even plan, but nothing can truly quell the twisting of gut, the pounding of heart, and the stillness of breath that dread so often brings. When a simple, boring, routine night can become a nightmare. When you hear the screams and shouts and gunfire as something unknown lurks within the darkness. Cold sweat begins to line the back of your neck, your hands begin to shake, your complexion pales, and you want to throw up whatever contents are in your stomach.

More than the terrifying sounds, however, is the silence that follows. That's when terror begins to set in. Holding the rifle up to the doorway, the sound of machinery having since died out, shut off in order to give full attention to the break-in. This was the last line of defense, and if whatever was here made it through . . .

Her mouth felt incredibly dry, but it wasn't something she gave much thought to, as her eyes were glued to the door. From what she'd gathered, the intruder had taken some valuable data, right out of the mainframe computer. Nobody could stop the thing, a large beast of some sort. A monster. She hated monsters. How they had come to this city four years ago and somehow found refuge. How they took human jobs, and human homes for themselves. How their old king was attempting to run for mayor. It was disgusting. They should have all died in that volcano, a fate sealed a thousand years ago, broken because of one child. One insufferable, ignorant child. Germany was worse off because of their presence, and it wasn't even her home. She'd been born and raised in America, but she was needed here. She was useful here. And here . . . there be monsters.

"Steady," a voice behind her commanded. Her platoon leader, just another grunt like herself with a fancy title to make him seem important. Only the lieutenants held any real power. Still, her mind was more preoccupied with the immediate threat than any annoyances of "leadership". There were only a few of them left to defend the exit of the outpost, and if they failed . . . well, it was likely they'd be killed one way or another.

Then it happened. The dreaded moment. The opening of the door—or rather, its detachment. The door was made of metal, heavy and thick, but the intruder had managed to not only remove it from its frame in one swift move, but it had been sent flying directly for the lined grunts.

With a cry, she leaped to the side, hearing the oomph of several men and women making contact with the flying projectile, the platoon leader among them. Those that remained began to fire weapons, muzzle flashes illuminating the darkened world. The monster could only be seen in spurts of light, moving frighteningly fast as it closed the distance with the soldiers. A flaming karate chop sent one man flying, a swift kick sending another sprawling across the room.

She quickly rose to her feet, leveling her rifle toward the great beast, opening fire. She could have sworn she got in a hit, the monster hadn't noticed her from behind, but quickly, it was upon her. Easily seven feet tall, it towered over the much shorter woman, who felt her rifle being slammed from her hands, but she was quick on the uptake. Yanking out a combat knife hidden in the side of her boot, she stepped forward, slashing horizontally with the blade. Several white hairs drifted in the air in front of her. With a yell, she began to move forward, keeping herself leveled as she attempted to cut into the beast, but it moved back with each slash, and upon the fifth, a great grip fell upon her wrist, and she felt her bone begin to break. With a gasp, she dropped her knife, falling to a knee at the mercy of such a monstrosity, though she still had one more trick as her free hand grasped the handle of her glock from her hip holster, procuring it out to take aim, but the monster opponent was faster, and a flaming fist destroyed the weapon out of her hand—alongside shattering that same hand.

Before she could even cry out in pain, something slugged into her face, and the world flipped from suffocating darkness to a hellish void, her consciousness being forcibly stripped from her.

The monster dropped the dark-skinned woman, and glanced around at her vicinity, finding that every single soldier here had been dispatched. The way out had been cleared.

Making their way up a flight of stairs, the monster came upon a school room at the top, and it promptly pushed a bookshelf to cover the stairway it had just emerged from. Cool moonlight was streaming inside, giving a haunting illumination to the classroom. It was almost unfathomable to know that such a place existed underneath an elementary school, but the monster had what it came for. Reaching into its jean pocket, it produced a hard drive. It had plenty of other files and data collected over the last few months, but this was the most important piece of evidence and information found yet. It required getting its hands dirty, but—

"Toriel?"

The goat monster turned her head sharply to the doorway as she stuffed the hard drive back into her pocket. "Miriam, you're here late," she greeted, her soft voice hardly reflecting the violence she'd just inflicted. Necessary violence, mind you, this information she'd gathered could very well save her people. Save her daughter.

"As are you," Miriam Truly replied. A young and bright-eyed woman who taught first graders primarily, whereas Toriel taught the third grade class. A light flickered on as Miriam's hand flashed over the light switch, and the room was bathed in a bright yellow light, enough to make Toriel wince as her eyes struggled to adjust, and heard an audible gasp from the young woman. "Toriel, what happened?"

The old monster glanced down at herself to find her violet sweater was ripped at the side, undoubtedly caused by a bullet grazing her. She was fortunate there hadn't been more damage. Had she Asgore's weight, she wouldn't have had the agility to avoid the bullets at all. "Oh, I caught it on a thorn while gardening earlier this evening," Toriel chuckled pleasantly. "I shall need to patch it up soon, I think. I just needed to stop by to check some things."

"This isn't your classroom," Miriam said.

"And to think," Toriel added. "I . . . tend to wander when I get lost in my thoughts."

"Ah. Frisk giving you trouble?" Miriam asked, casually folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

Toriel shook her head, great white ears flapping a bit, before she rubbed her paws down her sweater as though flattening it out. "She's a doll, of course. Just . . . Asgore things," she lied. "I probably should be going. I wouldn't want to worry Frisk."

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure," Miriam's lips pulled tight in a small smile as she moved from the doorway. "By the way, tomorrow is Tristan Roidan's birthday. I know he isn't in your class yet, but the children adore you. I was hoping you could stop by and bring one of your famous pies?"

Toriel let out a chuckle. "It would be no trouble. Tomorrow is Frisk's birthday as well. She's turning sixteen."

"Is she now? I remember when Mt. Ebott erupted back in 2016 and all of you came to the city. She was so small."

Toriel smiled, looking down as she thought of those days. Living for over a thousand years, a four year difference should have been nothing, yet it felt so long ago . . . "She was. Take care, Miriam, and try not to eat most of the pie this time. It's for the kids!"

The women shared another laugh before Toriel left the room, and began to hurry down the short hallway toward the front entrance, feeling the bump of the hard drive in her pocket, just to make sure it hadn't gone anywhere. Things were about to change in Voxis City. She would make sure of it. The truth had to be revealed.