What if the story of Undertale had gone a bit differently? What if Flowey was the harbinger and dealer of misery and pain manipulating the ghost of a long lost child and a hate filled monster to bring about the spread of misery and pain to the under...
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Hello readers! in the spirit of the holiday season.... Halloween. I decided to gift to you a chapter of Haunted!Tale I hope you enjoy :) If this theme has already been explored I apologize because there is no way in Undertale to keep up with all these universes, and this is my version. With that being said here we go! ( this message has been approved of my Halloween cat...Jake)
There was something seriously wrong with this plot of land—an ancient evil slumbered here and it was up to me to solve it. The house was a dilapidated death trap—greying splintering wood made the once happy abode look like the shattered rains of a sun bleached skeleton. Ragged and gnarled was the front steps giving it the appearance of a maul the flutter of yellowed sheers of the windows looked more like ghosts leaning out to wave a mortal to their doom. The front door swung on its hinges giving out a low creek that sounded more akin to the moan of the dead—some tormented souls wail...
Frisk smiled up from her notebook as she took down a few pages of scene development for a book she was working on. she called the book Something lies Beneath...been working on it for months and hoping one day to be published. Tucking a strand of auburn shoulder length hair behind her ear she looked up from the long taxi ride to see the man who had been driving engage her in conversation.
"I have no idea why you want to come up all the way here Miss—no one has lived up here in generations."
"Well—Frank." She spied a copy of his driver's license for the taxi company on the back window separating them. "Turns out I inherited this little gem."
"Gem?" the man snorted a laugh as he kept his eyes on the road only glancing back long enough in the rearview to catch her eyes now and then. "Well I will give it to you—it's a fixer upper but I think you might have bitten off more than you can chew...the house is haunted—whole town says so...a lot of people went missing out here."
"Well I will be the judge of the haunted nature of the premises." Frisk giggled shaking her head. "Guess you can say Frank I'm used to this sort of thing...used to things that go bump in the night."
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Boy he wasn't joking about this place." Frisk mumbled as the taxi pulled away from the drive and about squealed tires away from the estate. It was in a mess something right out of one of her novels. She sighed this thing probably wasn't livable, and here she was "wanting" to spend the night.
"No running water—no electricity—no gas lines?" she spoke to the house as if it were an old friend. "Haven't seen a live soul in ages huh?" she fished out her phone and snapped a picture—taking a moment to put it though a sepia filter on her phone's photo manipulator. "Ah nice and ancient looking—you will make a lovely cover for my next book, how does that sound?" she smirked at her own one sided conversation and started to take the steps.
"Let's see what secrets lay inside you huh?" More like what work needed to be done that would be impossible to do on the mere salary of a newspaper column writer. She was just thankful Holly the town in which she relocated to inherit this monstrosity had an opening. It might be bottom of the totem pole but she had inherited a lump sum of money to go with the house...and she intended to fix it up to livable—maybe not the Ritz but she was going to try and restore it to a historical version or its formal self. She at least had a long weekend to get some things set up, it was Friday and early Monday morning she would report to the Holly Chronicles. She had plans on heading down into the sprawling metropolis and fish up some news on this house—Frank had said this place was haunted—well that meant there was a story behind it all—and to better understand the present one must understand the past!
She felt determination replace the sinking feeling she was receiving off the house...this thing no matter how dilapidated and deadly was not going to win! Frisk shoved a chunk of hair behind her ear and off her face as she got the keys from her bag and went to unlock the door. At least this was not swinging off its hinges. It shrieked nonetheless and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end...it sounded too much like the disembodied scream of a spirit.
"Haha—you got me that time...first one is free." She laughed walking into the dusty and broken down abode. There was still furniture and from the looks of it only half was covered in the classic sheets to prevent dust settling in the old fibers...It made the place feel frantic—someone had left in a hurry—and someone liked antiques—which meant they had to be pretty perturbed to leave without them...
The air was stifled in the summer heat and dirt—each step raised a tiny turbulent cloud of filth that rose into the air and caught the light giving off shimmering dust motes that were gleaming like rusted stars. She turned behind her looking out into the sweltering heat to see her foot falls in the dirt like footprints in the snow.
The curtains were in worse shape than the sheets on the furniture moth eaten and sagging on broken down rods they barely blocked any of the sweltering heat—she spied some "modern" items in here as she peeked into the parlor to spy a TV.
"What have you seen big guy?" It was apparent that this house had had more than one owner...hadn't been empty too long by the looks of the flat screen TV. Frisk was about to say more when she heard a scurrying off into the distance—saw it right out of the corner of her eye, something shot under the decrepit couch. "SHOOT!" Frisk jumped she hated mice—"Note to self—need mouse trap—maybe a bobcat—that one sounded pretty big."
Alright moving on...she explored the kitchen—modern looking—it had had a remodel a few years ago—before it was abandoned...dining room looked ok—she spotted the stairs as she rounded back into the parlor/living room and took them—a screech and creek were her theme music as she wandered upstairs to find the bedrooms and the bathroom---horror story alone, she had no idea water could mold like that....
There was a certain beauty hidden under all the terrifying filth, the bones were still good from her amateur inspection... first thing was first she needed to clean...the house had running water—which was a shocker and she had some spotty flickering electricity she had a lantern packed away in her bags so she was set then...she had a place to start.
The next task was choosing a room. She picked the master of course for its size and the fact it had an awesome fire place in it. Frisk passed three others one was disturbingly still set up as a nursery—and then two children's rooms...the nursery felt heavy, and Frisk couldn't stay long there. Even going as far as closing the door as she passed.
Letting the odd feeling slide off her she looked around her master bedroom and set her things down. This house didn't have a connected master bath all the rooms shared a decent sized one in the hall. No matter the wash closet down under the stairs and this one would be plenty for a single woman. Frisk didn't waste too much time in the room as she deposited her things and went back to the stairs and went down them.
She hadn't heard any more scurrying so that was a plus—maybe it was just her imagination playing tricks on her—a misplaced nerve from being alone in a strange and large house. Slipping the key in her pocket she locked up and decided to wander around the manors property and see what was neglected back here. it didn't disappoint—a large conservatory hung behind the house connected by a short overhang, standing about two stories high like the manor itself it gave the impression the house was much larger than what she could see from the road. The glass was in sad shape though—caught in a stone storm it seemed no glass pane had gotten away without a scratch.
Dead species of exotic plants burst through the glass—weeds taking over the only real green things left in the conservatory. The grass was about eye high overgrowing paths and down towards the gardens and water features that were dried up the fountains cracked and broken down. Frisk took pictures the whole time documenting the ruins she was walking through—she spied a collapsed gazebo that crashed into the pond now green from scum and lichen...the water was black—water lilies still somehow bloomed in their murky depths.
Her mental checklist was about maxed out using some quick math she would need almost four times the amount that was given her to upkeep the house to bring it back to life... she wondered if there was a local historical society in town... the money left was not taking into account what she needed to live in the house—and so one and so forth. Basically Frisk was looking at a money pit.
"I won't give up on you big guy." she spoke firmly turning back towards the conservatory and house. "I promise I will do what I can to get you back on your feet...but first I need to head into town."
