She could see her blurry reflection in the blood pooling around her feet. A mangled cough spurred and dripped from her lips, fingers jerkily wrapping around the femur impaled in her upper abdomen. Her blue sweater was dyed a familiar burgundy.
There was nothing new about what was happening. Only, this time, she couldn’t figure out why it was happening. She didn't understand, she hadn't even hurt anyone... She was, for once, in control.
Frisk looked up, her narrow, brown eyes focusing on the short and blurry shape of a blue cladded monster. “Sah..ns…"
She reached out, trying to ignore the tibia he was casually twirling in his fingers. If she could just... tell him, if he would just listen. She stepped forward, vision spotting. “Please… I haven—”
His left eye flashed a bright cyan and the bone flew right between her eyes. Her soul shattered in an instant.
Blackness. Frisk opened her eyes and stared up into blackness; her petite form laid on a wall of blackness. She was breathing in shadows.
Dirty brother killer… The words were branded into her mind, as if they were still being spoken to her.
Tears sprung from the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t even—” She sobbed and sat up, curling her knees toward her and folding over them.
Her soul, which hovered only inches in front of her, dimmed with grief. The red glow illuminated her golden skin into a sickly yellow. Her breaths grew erratic as she continued, “I didn’t even hurt anyone! He just…. He just…”
Laughter quickly accompanied her sobs, Frisk’s body went rigid for a second. “'He just… He just…'” The new voice mimicked, rich with humor. “Spit it out already! He killed you!” Frisk heard footsteps gently tapping toward her.
She wished he wouldn't show up when she was feeling like this.
“Killed you... again, might I add.” Frisk frowned at the addendum, tilting her head up to face the boy standing on the other side of her soul. He looked down at her, a small triangle of shade from his nose to brow, tendrils of creamy brown hair lazily hung over his forehead. Scarlet eyes watched her, crinkled at the corners by an amused grin.
“You know, if you wouldn’t get all weak in the knees and let me do things down at the Judgment Hall, we would be here waaayyy less.” Chara walked around the dimming soul, giving it a small flick and causing Frisk to wince. “Ah!”
Chara grinned and crouched in front of her small frame, giving her a once-over and curling his lip, “You’re too weak to do anything right.” He delivered another flick, this time to Frisk’s forehead. “Which is why big brother Chara is here, isn’t it?” Frisk rolled her eyes, the last of her tears gathering at the bottom of her chin. Chara’s brow twitched, he quickly reached forward and roughly grabbed her face, pinching her cheeks harshly with one hand.
His voice lowered a few octaves. “I said: isn’t it?” Frisk’s face scrunched up, but she remained stoic.
"..." Chara pulled her face in closer, neither of them shied away. He could feel her hot, angry breaths against the palm of his hand, her nostrils were flaring only inches from his. He collected the tears on her chin with his thumb and released her.
"Tsk, I forget you only like it when a skeleton is rough with you,” he said, grinning. His thumb pressed his lips, tongue darting out like a snake’s to taste her tears. Frisk watched him and inadvertently shivered.
“I-I do not!”
Frisk opened her mouth to reply, but decided it was better kept shut. Slut? She thought, forcing a blush away from her cheeks. He couldn't mean...
Chara laughed wildly. “Oh wait! You didn’t think I was there for that one?” Another bout of laughter rumbled from his throat, Frisk almost admired how natural his laugh was. “You think I just, what? Tuned out while you… jumped his bones?” He cringed at his wording and tapped his chin, “I don’t know if that was a pun, I meant it quite literally.”
Frisk’s face was burning with embarrassment because yes, she had thought that maybe Chara would have the decency to disappear at a moment like that. At least he had made his presence unknown.
“Just shut up," Frisk said bitingly. She pulled herself to her feet and stepped towards Chara’s hunched form. She was furious she had to share such a sensitive memory with him
Chara stood as well, smirking as he looked down at her, always having stood a good four or five inches above her. She squinted angrily and he cleared his throat.
“You know what I don’t get though?” Chara was clearly just bouncing conversation off of Frisk rather than having one with her.
“What?” Frisk asked, “The value of life? The significance of a conscience?”
This only earned a dismissive flick to the shoulder from Chara, “Yes, but who really does?”
He strolled backwards and then began to walk around the edge of the SOUL’s glow, half of his body bathed in a dim red, the other almost nonexistent in the dark.
“I don’t get how… He can stab you, decapitate you, eviscerate you, rape you…. All for the sake of others who are already fucking dead… And you… You still want whatever it is you want… With him.” Chara’s lips were suddenly right by Frisk’s ear, she felt a shiver run up her spine as he spoke the next sentence lowly.
“You still want to fuck him…” He briskly moved away from her as she tried to shove him.
“I don't! Chara, stop this! I need to-”
“Go die again? That can wait, Frisky.” His playful tone was suddenly quite serious, Frisk wasn’t familiar with it.
A bit curious, she merely nodded for Chara to continue. Chara walked to stand in front of Frisk, his red eyes lidded with some she wasn’t used to seeing in him, his blushed cheeks were pale, cherub features shaded in the burgundy light.
Frisk's brow twitched, her male counterpart becoming more and more alluring to her. Something similar to butterflies swirled in her belly.
“Yet, here I am… here, for you, every time you fall. I am here to tell a joke, pat you on the back, and watch as you go die again. And you die a lot, by the way.”
Frisk swallowed, what is he trying to say? As if reading her mind, hell maybe he did, Chara stepped closer,
“What I’m trying to say is that watching you die… Watching that fucking bag of bones kill you... hurt you… Over and over… It’s lost its fucking charm.”
Frisk stepped backward, but Chara grabbed her shoulder, thumb slowly rubbing circles on the fabric of her sweater. Her dark brown bangs mingled with his lighter ones, her soft, ample chest pressed against his.
Frisk looked from one of his eyes to the other, then naturally down to his lips. When was the last time she’d kissed actual lips?
Had she ever?
“Well, that’s startling…” Frisk murmured, “anyone else would think you've actually started caring about me.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Frisk felt herself being pushed onto the floor. Her body crashed into the darkness.
“Care? As if,” Chara scoffed. His pinched brows betrayed his tone.
He turned his back to Frisk’s crumpled form. “But like I said, Sans won’t be killing you again.”
Frisk flinched as he spoke those words, suddenly feeling a painful pull at every fiber of her being, she whipped around, eyes huge and full of fear. Chara’s hand was clenched around her SOUL, red light streaming from in between his pale fingers.
“No…” Frisk’s voice was strained, the grip on her SOUL causing her to tremble, she felt as if his hand was wrapped around her, crushing her.
She shakily rose to her feet, watching as two familiar options appeared before Chara.
“Please, d-don’t… Sans is...he's just confused...” She whispered taking a step forward, but the longer he held her soul, the less corporeal she became.
Chara turned his head, arm raised, index finger pointed toward the option to his left.
“I don’t get it…” He said quietly as Frisk advanced, she could’ve sworn he sounded hurt. “Why can’t you see I’m doing this for you? ”
He turned again and pressed RESET.
“NO!” Frisk screamed digging the ball of her foot down and leaping forward to grasp the collar of Chara's striped sweater, but her hand phased right through. Her body clattered into nothingness, a gust of sweet smelling wind whipping through her brown hair.
Then the blackness faded to white.