Colors | Chara x Papyrus

Chapter One: Red Guardian Angel

•  •  •

Frisk's knees quivered beneath her. They were on the verge on giving out, but she never collapsed. The pain only increased, aching and reducing her wobbling legs to numb pillars of flesh.

All of them were here. Sans, Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore, and everyone in the Underground stood before her. They circled her, still, with eyes that tore into Frisk's conscience.

Then they moved. They moved and they fell apart.

A crack instantly spiraled down Sans' chest, splitting him open. Papyrus across his neck, and Undyne slowly liquefied and oozed into nothing.
Frisk could only watch in agony and heart-wrenching guilt. "Stop!" She'd wail, but on they pressed, gradually destroying themselves. Their movements were zombie-like, slow, torturous, and a trail of dust followed their statue-like bodies.
     The world of blackness Frisk found herself in flashed crimson.

She had done this, she'd caused their suffering, their ceaseless misery.

Frisk could hardly breathe once they reached her, the sudden, blinding scarlet light revealing disheveled faces with lifeless eyes. She wanted to reach out to them, to shed tears for them, to replace them, but she remained stationary, as if there was no remorse, as if she had no desire to aid them.

      Blood began leaking from the clefts in their bodies, seeping leisurely, giving Frisk all the time she needed to rush over, to patch them up, to fix her mistakes, but her feet were glued to the ground, any actions were impossible. There was nothing she could do, this was all her fault.

Sans hit the ground.

     It was a sickening thump that made Frisk's skin crawl. He'd fallen face first, mere inches from her feet. She was given no time for solace, because Papyrus gave away soon after.
     They fell in dusty heaps, unnatural blood pooling at her heels. She's stuck as the bodies pile up, and forced to watch them rise to her throat. They soon covered her entirely, suffocating her and completely ridding her sight. Their touch seared her skin, and if anyone was lingering in the darkness, they'd hear her cries.

•  •  •

     Frisk's body flung to life as she awoke, coated in a sheen of sweat. Her ears were ringing with the sound of her rapid heartbeat that played alongside her jagged breaths.
     She kept her eyes glued to her comforter, afraid to look up and see the horror all over again. However, that wasn't much help. The nightmare held onto her mind. It crept throughout her body and landed in the pit of her stomach. She felt it building up, forming into nausea that began ascending her throat.
     Frisk leapt from her bed and sprinted to the bathroom, making it just in time before her stomach contracted violently. Tears spilled from her eyes along with the contents of her stomach, successfully landing in the toilet bowl.
     She sank to her knees and continued to weep, rocking back and forth in a futile attempt to console herself.

      Frisk couldn't get anything out of her mind. Everything was loud, amplified. Her sobs echoed, her breaths thunderous. The room was spinning, closing in, and all she could imagine was Sans hitting the ground, Papyrus' head sliced clean from his body. Her hands dug furiously into her scalp.

Make it stop
Make it stop
Make it stop—

A scream rang out.

•  •  •

     Frisk rinsed out her mouth, the common sound of running water a soother. She cupped her hands under the stream and submerged her face in the cold.
     Her gaze inevitably met the mirror. She looked terrible, hair bedraggled and the collar of her shirt soiled with sweat. Her golden eyes hardly glimmered as they used to. They were dull and glossy, void of emotion.
     It was only when Frisk noticed a hint of red swimming in her irises that she managed to emote. The feeling of dread familiar.