Taking cover <Frans>

CHAPTER 91: And so would you

You guys are so supportive. I thank you for that. . .

I was going to say something else but I changed my mind. Here's the story.

——

Frisk POV:

The tears didn't come immediately, but after a few minutes, the tears fell like there was no tomorrow. I screamed and punched the ground in an angered fit, the tears madly falling down my face.

My soul hurt, I was hurt. My knuckles bled from the impact of the hard dirt I had been hitting, taking my anger out on the softest thing around.

Now sans and everyone is looking for me.
The mafia's most powerful assets are now gone from defending the HeadQuarters.

And it's all my fault.

I should have seen this coming. I should have known I couldn't have stopped her by going to the next "targeted" mafia. I should have fucking known that she would have tricked me like this!

I'm so sorry.

I cried even more. The pain was unbearable to cope with on a massive scale.

I hated myself.

It was all my fault. I never intended for this to happen! It was supposed to have a happy ending for my friends. It was supposed to work just like I planned it to.

My tears continued to fall, and my hiccups of choked sobs didn't stop either. My screams of frustration and agony would probably scare any wildlife away from me. They knew I was a threat. A killer.

I just needed someone with me.

I was lost.

I was tired.

I was hungry.

I wouldn't make the trip back. I could ransack the facility, but honestly, what's the point at this rate? She's probably on her way to the Mafia now. She's probably killing every monster she could find.

My tears ran down my face profusely and screams rang and echoes throughout the forest trees. The dark oak trees resonated the sounds and they bounced off of them even more. I was loud and vulnerable.

I was gullible.

I was taking every step in her calculated plan. I was following along with it like a puppet. As if she knew what I was thinking at all times. It's like I can hear her thoughts in my head at this point.

'You left them all to die, didn't you?' She would say to me, giggling. 'You wanted to save yourself only because your selfish and cruel. You left them all those years ago. You didn't even fight back against C. H. E. S. S.' Her voice would echo.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" I cried out in pain. My hair was falling out of the pony tail messily, and my hood had come off of my head, revealing my face. The hair cling to my tear-stained face helplessly, as if it tried to outline the face of how miserable I am.

My newfound determination I had earlier shattered. Like it had never existed. I had lost myself once more in the mess of my mind. It was clouded in self hate and despair.

I hate myself. I hate her. I hate everything! Why can't anything just go my way at SOME point in my life?!

Why do I always have to be under someone's string?! When am I not just A THING TO SOMEONE?! WHEN WILL IT GET BETTER FOR ME?!

Why can't things just go happily for me just once...?

It always felt like when life gave me an opportunity on a silver platter to help clean up my mess of a life, it would grin sinisterly and throw it onto the ground. I would fight for it every single day, but the pieces of that hope would never be fixed. I could never fix them.

I hated it.

I hated everything.

I hated—

Why can't—

I feel like I'm just repeating myself.
My own thoughts cannot be finished because my brain feels as if I've done something wrong too. I can't do anything right.

All I've ever done is push people away from me.

And everyone who I meet will get hurt. That's the jist of it.

And it sucked.

I laughed a sad laugh and looks over at my bag. My tears had stopped for a few minutes after dying down. I eyed the glint of light that appeared inside the bag once the small tid-bit of sunlight stretched over the horizon and through the trees.

I eyed the knife I had packed to kill Chara with. I eyed it long enough to take it out of the bag and run my fingers along it, feeling the smooth metal glide across my fingertips. I didn't dare to run it down the sharp cutting point, for my blood and pain would make this all the more too tempting.

If I can't watch her die, that isn't a problem. I'd rather stop her myself than have the rest of them suffer for my actions.

The small lights around the facility turned on, dimming the area slightly, and the sound of car wheels could be heard in the distance. A car engine, almost, as well.

I ignored the sound, my mind practically blocking it out as I sat there on my knees. I looked into the knife's reflection with my head down the tears had fully stopped and numbness had taken over. My eyes were half-lidded and my senses were hazy.

The moon was rising, a nice, large full moon to light up the night even more in the large clearing. The stars shone bright as well, and I looked up at the beautiful night sky with a sad smile.

I never got to do any of the stuff I promised everyone when I was older.

My eyes were glossy with more tears threatening to fall. The emotions came back as I thought about everyone in the Mafia.

If she's not alive, she can't hurt them.
We're connected. A valuable piece of information.

The sound of the car drew louder. But I didn't care.

The knife shone brightly in the small clearing with the lights and the moon reflecting the light in the darkness. My face was still towards the ground, shielding my frightened eyes from the inevitable.

I rose it above my head, using both hands, the knife's angle aimed towards my abdominal area. It would only take minutes before we would both bleed to death. Hundreds of lives in exchange for one.

Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.

I closed my eyes.

Why was I so scared?
Why was I scared to leave them behind?

The memories of them all stopped the knife. A moment of hesitation is everything in the real world. And if this were a fantasy, then it would have plunged into my stomach.

A pair of hands wrapped themselves around my two hands and my eyes opened in another, different kind of fear. A curiosity, more-so. I lifted my head up slowly, and I could see the shadow of an individual.

"You don't have to do this." Sans said, taking both of my hands and taking the knife out of my hands. He was trembling. "I-... I thought I was going to be too late." He chuckled slightly, getting down on his knees along with me and pulled me into a hug. "I kept calling your name, but you didn't answer." He said, griping me even more.

My sobs were muffled into his shoulder, along with my hiccups and sniffles. "Why?" I cried in desperation. "Why won't you just let me do this?" I hugged him tighter as he let me cry. "Everything would be better. She would be gone." I said.

"But so would you." He said. "And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew you had killed your self for me."