VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 104

There were a lot of things he told himself he hated. He hated liars and tricksters, so long as they weren't him. He hated the smell of freshly mown grass. He hated paper. He really hated the skeleton. He hated himself. But no, not truly. He had become somewhat of a method actor since being turned into a flower. The empty void of emotion within him left little to be expressed, so he simply expressed how he deemed appropriate for the situation. Shock where it was required, anger when necessary, sorrow when due, but did he ever truly feel those? No. He hadn't felt anything in a long time.

As he watched Frisk race back into the mouth of the tunnel, he told himself he was supposed to care that she reached the others. That he was supposed to care about what happened to them all. That wasn't true at all. He really didn't care who lived or who died. Acting like he did care, however, seemed to make her happy. So in a sense, maybe there was some feeling inside him if he made this much of an effort to appease the girl.

He glanced upward at the smiling trashbag, otherwise known as 'Sans'. His dark, voided eye sockets watched her retreat for a few more moments. Flowey had told himself he hated the skeleton for past timelines, and yet they were allies against the new timeline holder, as well as the Messiah. Speaking of, they were coming. Flowey had been the one to track their movements, large masses of them positioning themselves in locations with the clear intent of strategically herding monsterkind, and their allies. It would probably have flawlessly been executed, if not for the flower. He knew what they were planning, and he'd be taking down their operation. It was going to be a lot easier with Sans at his side to maybe pick up a little slack, though Flowey wasn't sure how the skeleton operated against multiple enemies, considering he usually excelled against one.

The ground trembled. Becoming a plant had given Flowey certain abilities or aspects, like being more aware of his surroundings. The vibrations of the ground were so sensitive to his stem, and his roots. They were awkward at first, but over time he'd learned how to utilize them, like now. He could feel the footsteps of at least thirty people marching their way here through the forest on the other side of the ditch, opposite the city, which slept soundly.

"They're almost here." Flowey stated.

"let's get to it. try not to kill anyone," Sans replied, and when Flowey turned to face him . . . the skeleton was gone.

He hated when he did that. "I'll try to spare one," the flower spat.

Flowey sunk into the earth, burying himself under the dirt before sliding through the ground, more acutely aware of the tremors provided by the men now. Enough so that he stopped once directly below them, allowing them to pass overhead, before popping out of the ground.

It was dark, but that was hardly an issue. Flowey didn't require eyes to see them, when he could feel them. "HEY!" his shrill voice barked out. The group stopped and began to look around. Men and women wearing ski masks, armed with heavy weapons. They clearly weren't looking for a talking flower, as their gazes flitted about through the trees in search of something taller. Good enough for Flowey, who grinned, his face splitting into a look of malice and eagerness.

A sage-colored vine ripped out of the earth, adorning furious red thorns that barbed its surface. It was thick, nearly a foot in diameter, and stretching on from ten feet to twenty to thirty. While the goons failed to notice Flowey, they definitely didn't fail to see the vine stretching out of the earth. They opened fire, spraying bullets upon the vine, which retaliated by slamming against the ground, and sliding roughly toward them at bone-breaking speed. Like a leg sweep, it knocked over the entire group, toppling them over one another as more, smaller vines began to erupt out of the ground, a series of which wrapped cruelly around one woman, and dragged her screaming under the dirt.