Horror's Pov:
The smaller skeleton held his sides, grumbling. He hunched over, his tiny hand shaking to reach his mouth with his other hand clutching his torso. The eyelights in his sockets flickered in and out as his mouth cracked open, quivering, as he gagged quietly. I was speechless. I mean, I don't speak as much as the others but in this instance, I was unsure of what to do.
When I shared food in my Underground, everyone ate (devoured) it happily. So, why has he stopped eating? I'm sure the soup was made well, and I even tasted it to make sure it was delicious! He also ate it without much complaint until now. Does he not like potatoes?
"Are...you...okay?" I say as quickly as I could, urging each word out of my mouth as I cursed myself for my inability to speak properly. I looked at Killer when he didn't respond to me, wondering if he knew what to do.
Killer's Pov:
The kid just kept coughing up a storm. Horror's eyelight floated up to look at me as if I had any idea why the weed was like this. Seriously, what did he think I would know? Let alone be able to help him. Kid was out of it, his eyelights now gone from his dark sockets. I watched him, his small body trembling on the couch. He started to move off the couch, the hand that clutched his side grasped the table for support.
"It's... fine," He croaked, his bone-brow furrowing then relaxing. The kid's expression was mixing from discomfort to relief and then back to discomfort, like he wasn't sure what he was feeling or maybe was trying to pass it off; like it was nothing, just normal.
A memory of myself flashed in my skull: I've felt like that, too. Taste can be such an annoying sense. Pain can be numbed; pleasure can be lost. Hope can be broken; chains can be tightened. When food enters my mouth, it's like a wave of thunder rushing as memories invade my mind. It's funny that taste is what overwhelms my emotions; the sense that makes me break whatever facade I created to drive me crazy. I don't want to remember any of that - not those feelings, not the memories, and definitely not the sanity.
The memory fades when the smaller skelly stumbles, his knees on the floor with a quiet thud.
Fern's Pov:
I can't.... It hurts so much.... My vision blurred, my bones cold and rattling as I clenched my phalanges on the edge of the table. The usual acidic taste that happened when I felt like vomiting was replaced with a burning sensation, my soul twisted and tightened as the sensation worsened. It burned my throat, if you'd call it that, and like tar, it was stuck, trying to find an escape from my body.
What should I do? I don't want to throw it up but... it irks me. Eating without Papy, eating by myself... Eating at all. It tastes too good for me. Should I even have eaten it at all? Something so delicious without him, by myself. I couldn't tell whether my thoughts were really my own anymore, but I understand why I'd feel that way, why he'd feel that way. It really does hurt.
It felt like forever as I rambled inside my head when a bony hand grabbed my shoulder, gently holding it as it turned me to look at them.
"Hey, you okay?" Killer asked, his face scrunched together as he looked into my sockets. His question was a lot sterner than Horror's and the way he looked at me felt softer than before. His sockets usually gauged me, like he was trying to figure me out but now, he just wanted to know what was wrong with me and nothing else.
I opened my mouth to speak but felt the gurgling feeling at the back of my mouth, closing it shut. Perhaps Killer heard it the noise because he picked me up, slinging my body over his shoulders. I reached for my mouth, the sudden movement making my soul twist around myself. Holding in a gag, Killer carried me towards the kitchen and put me in front of a bin.
"Don't hold it in, kid," Killer said, squatting to my level, a gentle pat landed on my back as I stood in front of, what I now assumed, was the trash. I looked at him, unsure if I can even do it, too afraid of the feeling.
"Just let it out or you'll feel worse. I won't watch, so hurry it up," his voice was firm as he faced away, still patting my back. I looked into the void of the trash before gagging from the patting getting harder. Despite holding it in so well earlier, the tar-like vomit finally escaped from, wherever it came from, and landed at the bottom of the trash void. I groaned at the burning sensation that had finally reached my tongue, the taste making it numb as I held the edge of the trash.
Definitely different. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, the patting turning into a circling motion on my back. I glanced at Killer; a smile etched on his face although it seemed less of a condescending grin, rather a satisfied one.
"Heh, good job, weed," he chuckled, his hand now on my skull and rubbing it. It was an odd feeling, can bones emit heat or maybe it's magic? Nonetheless, it was comfortable, but the moment was short-lived as he pulled his hand back, chuckling awkwardly as Horror stood by the counter. I think he was standing there for the most part, watching briefly and twiddling with his fingers, an expression of relief on his face.
"You're... okay... now?" Horror asked softly, his skull tilting to the left to peer closer. I used the trash to straighten myself up, my face heating up in embarrassment. I nodded, rubbing my arm, "Yeah... Thanks for... helping me," a shaky smile on my face before it fell as I looked up at them, "Sorry for... that." I gestured towards the bin, frowning.
"That's nothing, squirt. We've done worse," Killer laughed as Horror walked closer, nodding in agreement.
"You... and... Cross... still... need... to... clean... the... dining... hall," Horror looked at Killer making him look away with a wry smile, a whistle coming from his mouth.
"Oh, that... I thought boss let that go," Killer chuckled this time, standing up from his previous position.
"I don't just let things go, Killer," a voice came from the kitchen entrance, making Killer stand straighter. Nightmare stood at the entrance, his goopy form leaning against the doorframe. His eyelights floated to each of us as he sighed, stepping forward.
"If you are done here, I'll be taking Fern back to my office," a tendril reached for me, wrapping around my waist, "As for you, Killer, go find Cross and clean your mess. Horror, watch them." Horror nodded although looked reluctant to do so. Killer grumbled a 'fine' as my feet were lifted off the floor. I turned my head to look at the skellies, waving a small goodbye before exiting the kitchen.
YOU ARE READING
Another Chance (Reborn as a Sans From Naturetale)
Fanfiction"Please just... leave me alone..." Maybe that was the last straw for me, the last beating I could take before it finally kicked me off the edge. The last of anything I could handle. I've had enough of this. There was nothing I could want, nothing I...
