VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 76

Frisk stepped out of the taxi, handing a 20 to the driver. She was running low on personal money after buying Sadie's dress for her (she didn't have enough to buy both in the end, anyway), but the quick ride home was worth every penny if her dad needed her. Quickly, she made her way to the front door, but immediately felt . . . strange. The lights in the house were all off, and she was getting the strangest feeling of paranoia. By instinct, Frisk looked around her, seeing nobody in the dark.

Pursing her lips, she cautiously entered her home, and was greeted by darkness and silence. Her first instinct was to turn on the lights, but after flipping the light switch a few times, it became evident that the power was out. "Dad?" She called quietly into the dark house. She stood at the entrance for a moment, waiting for some kind of reply . . .

Nothing.

Quietly, she closed the door behind her, slowly making her way inside, before she suddenly heard footsteps coming from directly above. They weren't heavy, like Asgore's. They were light, but still noticeable. Her heart hammered away in her chest as she slowly made her way past the living room and to the stairs, barely even realizing she was holding her breath. The footsteps stopped as she began to slowly rise the stairs, and at that moment, she noticed something else . . .

No light was coming in through the windows. Not from the street lights, or from the moon. In fact, a glance outside the nearest window told her it was pitch black outside. Not a star in the sky. Beginning to feel more and more creeped out, she reached the top of the stairs, trying to make her eyes adjust to the dark to no avail. However, at that moment, she heard a door slamming, causing her to jump up in surprise.

It had come from downstairs, from within Asgore's room, presumably his personal bathroom's door having been slammed. "Dad . . . ?" She called out, a little louder this time.

Still nothing.

Beginning to shiver, and the feeling of paranoia growing greater, she decided to move to the noise, descending the stairs. There was something else she noticed: what sounded like white noise had been filling her head, and it kept getting louder and louder, until she was forced to notice it as the white noise filled her ears, but she had no idea where it had come from.

Frisk made her way to Asgore's closed door, and raised her hand to the doorknob, the noise getting louder and louder, to the point where it was beginning to hurt . . .

She opened the door, and the noise disappeared completely as she was greeted by darkness. What sounded like a faint groan came from inside, and Frisk felt as though her heart was going to hammer right out of her chest. Then she got a brilliant idea. Pulling out her phone to use the flashlight, she tried to turn it on, but only found that it had died on her. The device wasn't working at all. Oh well, so much for that late idea.

"Dad . . . ?" She called again, her voice little more than a whisper as she stepped into the room. Another door slammed, this time the one directly behind her, and she immediately whirled about. Once she realized what had happened she attempted to open the door, but it no longer seemed capable of budging. With shallow breath, she stopped struggling, and turned around. In her fear-clogged mind, she hadn't thought of another light source until now, but she remembered it at this moment, and quickly summoned her scarlet SOUL, which appeared before her, illuminating the room—and revealing its contents.

The entire room was a complete mess. Furniture was shattered and scattered about, Asgore's bed was completely ripped in half and on the opposite side of the room. Paper littered the floor, as well as strewn bits of clothing. That wasn't what made her breath catch in her throat, however. It was Asgore. He was on his knees in the center of the room, his head lowered. His arms were heavily wrapped in strange, ebony chains, which extended to the ceiling, holding his arms up. His shirt was ripped partially off of him, and he was quite clearly beaten and bruised. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her. His left eye was red, his lip torn, several other cuts lining his body. Being magical in nature, he didn't bleed, but she doubted that alleviated any of the pain he felt. "F-Frisk . . . ?" he groaned weakly, blinking slowly. "You . . . need to . . . run . . ."

It was then that she noticed there was a third person in the room. He stood in the corner of shrouded darkness, his body rigid as he held his arms behind his back, staring at the scene unfolding with a smirk on his face, and cold, dark, lifeless eyes. He had flaming red hair that was tied back into a ponytail, shaved at the sides, and he had what appeared to be crosses for earrings. He was wearing a thin leather jacket, splayed open over his white shirt, not too different from Terrence's Homecoming fashion that day. He even had a pair of blue jeans.

Frisk's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of this man, who simply stared back at her through large, empty, void-like eyes of black, watching as a magical daito materialized in her hand, and her gaze shifted from fear to anger. "Who are you?" She demanded, every syllable laced with mounting rage.

Slowly, the man took a step forward, looking down at Asgore for a moment, then back at her. "He never told you of me, did he?" He whispered, just barely audible. "That's fine, we had some catching up to do . . ." he had continued to walk forward, and came to a stop beside Asgore, resting a hand on one of the king's horns. "I am somebody to fear," his smirk widened into a grin as he gripped the horn, and with the twist of his wrist, half of Asgore's horn snapped off in his hand. Asgore howled in pain, struggling against the chains, ultimately too weak to do anything as the man inspected the horn in his hand, before tossing it carelessly aside. "I am Demon. I am the end."