Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing you find yourself consciously aware of when you opened your eyes was the TV. Like you fell asleep with it on and at some point it had gone to a really shitty B movie, your arms were asleep under your side and you didn't feel like moving and risking pins and needles to cut the thing off.

“Coming to screens near you this October!” The announcer said, showing some B roll of some dark snowy forests. 

“The bloody gore fest you've all been waiting for! With your favorite villains! You're going to Scream!” The word ‘scream’ flew at the screen making up the first word of a title. “When Halloween!” The next word flew forward. “Is on Friday 13th!” 

…what is this dumb shit? You wondered as ‘friday 13th’ joined the rest of the title. 

“On Elm Street!” 

“Wait…cut cut! Who wrote this shit?” A black tar soaked skeleton asked coming into frame with a script gripped tightly in one goopy tentacle. 

“Umm…me boss.” another skeleton answered, this one's bones were still the color of bones, but he had thick goopy tears streaming from his sockets and dotting his shirt.

“... Halloween is on Friday 13th?” The first skeleton asked incredulously. 

“Yeah, so we can get all the franchises!” The second skeleton replied smiling manically. 

“...what day is Halloween on Killer?” The first skeleton asked growling out his obvious frustration.

“It's more for like…symbolism or something.” The second skeleton, Killer, answered.

“The only thing it symbolizes is that you're an idiot.” The first skeleton snapped. 

“This is why you never get to plan the October stuff you know.” A third person said off camera.

“No the reason I never get to plan the October stuff is normally the boss and Mr. Meat hammer over there get invited to all the kinktober stuff without us. We haven't all done a goretober together in years.” Killer whined.

“...Meat hammer?” A fourth voice asked. 

“Chill, the only reason they invite the boss is because he has tentacles.” Killer brushed off and you were starting to wonder what kind of weird ass parody this was, you moved to sit up, to finally switch this trash off and froze.

Your hands weren't asleep…at least that wasn't all they were. They were tied under you.

“Oh shit! You guys interrupted me…look anyway! This October you'll see-”

“I wasn't done asking about this stupid ass title!” The first one tried to interrupt, but he was ignored as the camera zoomed in on him.

“Nightmare as Freddy Krueger!”

“Yours truly, Killer, as Ghost face!” He continued, sticking out his tongue before reaching for the camera and whipping it around to two more skeletons. One a massive giant of a man with a hole in his head, while the other was buried deep in his hoody.

“And Dust and Horror as Jason and Michael Myers!” 

“Wait…why don't we get individual introductions?” The one in the hoody asked, narrowing mismatched eye lights. 

“Because I couldn't decide which of you was Jason and which of you was Michael.” Killer admitted as you started struggling against the bindings in earnest, panting as you started to panic.

“And of course…let's not forget our final girl,” Killer goaded, turning the camera to a small shed and opening the door.

Your heart thundered in your chest as you saw your own terrified eyes reflected back at you on the screen, then you looked towards the open door, where Killer was standing grinned over an old camera. 

“Just remember, we're all just trying to have fun here.” He said, smirking dangerously.

Chapter Text

The think about being a final girl meant that other people had to die before you, or you had to be harrowed and pursued in some way…harrowed wasn’t exactly the right word, maybe hollowed, not to be confused with hallowed. 

You meant hollowed out, made empty, devoid…or maybe you were pushing down the building terror, locking it away somewhere so you could focus on not focusing on what was right in front of you…but…being the final girl meant that other people had to die before you. 

And you could hardly ignore the skittering raining sound inside the shed for long, couldn’t look anywhere where you didn’t see little silver and blue scales, couldn’t even cover your ears so you couldn’t hear the cheerful whistling and the low groaning.

Stars at least she finally stopped screaming…likely in no small part by her blue lips being pinned together with three long fishhooks. Horror had said that the screaming was making his head hurt before doing it, then he had picked up his little white brush and continued scaling the woman again. Her wrists were tied to the ceiling of the small shed, together above her head, she had been stripped down to her underwear and left to hang there while Horror worked on her.

“S’ one thing I like about workin with the boss…Nightmare lets me deal with the Undynes…I got a special hate down deep in my soul for them, same way Dust feels about humans I guess.” He mentioned conversationally, like he wasn’t skinning a woman alive. 

Your tongue sits, thick and heavy and unmoving in your mouth. What would you even say if you could get it to move? Would you scream? Would he pin your mouth shut with fish hooks if you did? 

Then he tossed the wire brush down in the sink, and you thought that must be it right? He took off all her scales and he was going to kill her now, the torture was over right? 

But there were so many knives.

“Fillets or Sashimi?” He asked, his one large red eye jumping appraisingly between two knives. He couldn’t actually want you to choose could he?

“Who am I kidding, it will have to be sashimi.” He concluded without your input as he grabbed the back of her spiny fin, pulling her back as she whimpered around the hooks. He sank the knife into the meat of her back, just behind the fin and he cut down in one smooth motion, removing a portion of flesh, her eyes bugged out but the only sound she made was a whistling sound low in her throat. You could hear the wet, plap plap plap of her blood falling onto the shed floor.

Your stomach lurched as he turned around and started carving up the strip of her back into thin slices. You wanted to say ‘wasn’t this more like Hannibal then Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers’, but you had a feeling that Horror didn’t really care about Killer’s vision as much as he cared about…whatever in the hell he was doing. 

Besides, you were scared to open your mouth. The strips of the woman were arranged on a plate and he popped one into his mouth, coming to sit next to you.

“Monster’s turn to dust when they die, so you gotta eat it fresh." He said, holding the plate out to you close enough for you to see the blue rind of her skin and her pinkish meat, fuck she looked just like expensive tuna and she was watching all of this.

Then the little strips of Undyne turned to dust. You blinked and Horror frowned, you glanced over to where she had been hung from the ceiling just a second ago, but she was gone, there was just a pile of dust sitting where she had been hanging,

“...dang, must have nicked something important.” He mused, standing up and sighing before turning back to his assortment of knives. You're skin crawled when he picked up one of the fishing hooks and started for the door. 

“W-what are you doing now?” You managed to unstick your tongue to ask.

“I have to go get another one.” He replied casually, closing the door to the shed and leaving you alone in the dusty darkness…until he came back of course, with another Undyne.

Chapter Text

They left you alone with a fifth skeleton once. Just the once. Cross. 

He didn’t look like the others, he didn’t even seem like the others. So maybe…maybe.

“Hey?” Your voice rasped, low and hoarse, you tried to swallow but were only able to make a clicking sound in your dry throat. “Could I get some water?” You tried to ask. Figured you might as well try with him. 

You knew, on some level, that if you asked Horror he would probably get you a drink, but you were scared of what else he would bring with him. 

Cross sighed, glancing towards you and then glancing away before finally moving to the sink. You felt a small flash of hope, was that shame or maybe even pity in his sockets? You could use pity. Your heart thundered so violently against your sternum you worried for a second that he could hear it, then you rapped your lips around the rim of a cup that wasn’t exactly dirty…you told yourself. You closed your eyes so tight you saw splotches of technicolor, telling yourself that the white powdery splotches on the glass were just hard water stains and not dust in the glass. 

You strangled, fighting back the urge to vomit as you bit down on the rim of the glass, going to be sick but so, so thirsty. 

“Relax.” Cross said, softly, almost soothingly as he took the glass back from your mouth so you could cough. Then he brought it back to your chapped lips.

It was the soft soothing quality of his voice that solidified it in your mind. Maybe you could use him. Get away together. Fuck the final girl trope duos were more popular anyway. 

“...is there any chance…” You trailed off despite your freedom hinging on going through with your plan. He didn't encourage you anymore he just seemed to sigh, waiting. “Could I get something to eat to?”

“They haven't fed you?” He asked skeptically.

“Horror keeps offering but…” You trailed off watching him nod.

“Right. I'll be back.” He said, slipping out of the shed and you knew…you thought you knew, that you had him.

Even if all he came back with was a half stale sandwich, you thought you saw enough pity in his eyes for you to use. You just had to forge some kind of connection, had to keep talking until it felt like a real genuine connection.

The half tired, half delirious smile you shot him when he brushed the crumbs off your sore shoulder was a start. 

The quiet, “aren't you chivalrous?” You thought at the time, was another step. A good way for you to reach out and acknowledge that kindness in the best way you thought you could. 

Idiot. 

It was hard to sleep in the shed, restrained as you were, but sometimes you would just get so tired that you would black out, not really falling asleep but ceasing to be awake and aware. Most of the time when you came back to awareness you would be alone or Horror would be there…once it was Nightmare.

He had thick reading glasses on, a book in his lap as he tended a small fire with a poker. 

“Do you know how chivalry is described in the dictionary?” He asked without looking at you. His voice, like oil sliding down in thick cold waves making your scalp and skin crawl. 

“What?” You asked, breath shuddering out of you in a hoarse whisper.

“Chivalry. It's a noun that describes the medieval knightly system, with all its moral and religious hang ups. It was also used to describe knights, noblemen, and horsemen collectively; but I'm assuming you meant it to mean the combination of qualities expected of an ideal knight. Courage, honor, courtesy, justice, a readiness to help the weak, and above all else…loyalty.” He answered, holding up the fire poker and revealing that it wasn't in fact a poker. 

It was a brand. White hot from the fire and in a tiny intricate twisting pattern, like writhing tentacles.

“Do you know what chivalrous men did in the 15th to the 18th century, girl?” He snarled and as if he had put the images in your head you saw them. 

Gossip’s bridles piercing a woman's tongue because she nagged her husband too much or spoke evil things.

The pear of anguish, inserted into a woman's vagina and opened and opened and opened until it split her open, the prongs of the pear cutting into her flesh and killing her quickly only if she was lucky. Most died from the pain hours later…or infection days later.

The rack, the breaking wheel, the brazen bull…they all came to mind and you could almost swear you heard the screaming and smelt the thick oily smoke from the bulls nostrils, but maybe that was just the fire burning in the small shed.

The fire…that Nightmare was going to use to brand you.

Nightmare suddenly burst out laughing.

“No, silly girl, not me.” He replied, holding out the brand. “Cross…I think chivalrous is the perfect word for him, but you need to know to whom he is loyal.”

The man you thought you could convince to help you stepped out of the shadows and took the brand. The tip was so hot the air stirred around it.

“I didn't mean anything by it.” You tried to back track, but you couldn't even get all the words out before he brought the brand down on your thigh.

White hot pain indeed. This pain seemed to freeze the nerve endings before dipping them into acid as the brand was ripped away, your skin making a sick schtick sound where the brand ripped some of it away.

You screamed. Of course you screamed and writhed and thrashed but it didn't take the pain away.

“That looks like a blob.” Nightmare complained.

“She moved.” Cross replied, passing the poker back to Nightmare…who stuck it back into the fire.

“Well…you'll have to try again until you get a proper brand.” Nightmare replied, turning to look back at you. “It would be very chivalrous of him wouldn't it?”

Chapter Text

You were in a different room this time. They were getting ready for their game. The puzzles were almost finished. The board almost sat waiting for its last piece…Nightmare just wanted to torment you a little more before you were let loose. He was certainly doing that in spades, despite the warm room you had been brought to, the plush couch and the real food that horror hadn’t touched, Nightmare simply set your nerves on fire. The thin shink, shink, shink of metal sliding along a whetstone wasn’t doing you any favors. 

He held up an arrow by its shaft, inspecting each of the three edges in the gleam of the light before going back to the slow dragging, shink shink shink sound.

“...you know…my brother would say that arrows are noble weapons…godly weapons.” He said into the room as he continued his slow methodical sharpening and inspection.

“Your…brother?” You asked hesitantly, wanting to know if there were any more surprises for you in this place.

“He's a coward.” Nightmare continued conversationally. “Lording divines like Apollo and Cupid above all else. Gods that bring light and love with the flick of a bow string.” 

Naive something hissed inside your mind. 

“A weapon is a weapon though, they are all made for one purpose, they don’t bring light they snuff it out. They don’t bring love…unless of course you're talking about the acronym.” He explained, standing up and gesturing to the sunken in side of his head with the gleaming point of the arrow. 

You had no idea what acronym he was talking about, but the sharp gleam in his eye lights, matching the light twinkling off the arrow head made you hesitant to ask. 

“Please don’t do this.” You heard yourself ask in an almost detached way, you knew it was your voice, but your lips were numb to the movement. 

You were trembling, pressing yourself back into the plush couch as he walked closer, not acknowledging that you had said anything.

“Arrows are the weapons of those who don’t want to be close enough to see the life flicker out in their victims eyes…like I said…he's a coward. If you're going to do something you might as well do it all the way.” He continued and you tried to vault over the back of the couch but his tentacles were faster then your aching legs, days in the shed barely eating made you slow.

The throbbing pussy burns on each thigh, up your hip and on your shoulder made you too careful to vault cleanly. 

Nightmare was so fast though, none of that could have mattered. His oily tentacles might have found you and wrapped you up no matter how healthy you were. The thick sludge that coat him seeped into your clothes and made you shiver as he pulled you back down onto the couch.

His weight smothering making it hard to breathe as he leaned over you. That might have been the panic though, you were sucking in huge lung fulls of oxygen, but it wasn't enough to stop you from feeling light headed as he used his free hand to grab your head.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease.” You panted and he used his thumb to pry open your eye lid, holding it so you couldn't blink, streaming tears blurred your vision into only blackness with a speck of gleaming silver held above your eye.

“Try not to thrash. I don't want to lobotomize you.” He warned before bringing the tip of the arrow down into your right eye.

You startled awake, your head shooting up off the back of the plush couch. How had you even fallen asleep? You must have been more tired then-

Shink.

Shink.

Shink.

You swallowed hard, tears already flowing again as you turned to look at Nightmare.

“You know…my brother would say that arrows are noble weapons.” He started, glancing at you as he continued sharpening the arrow head on the whetstone.

Each high sharp sound made your eye ball throb.

Chapter Text

They let you loose on the fourth day and told you to run. Killer laughed gleefully as you took off as fast as you could, through a small empty town covered in snow. The ice seeped in numbing your skin as you ran. Your breath fogged out in front of you in a constant puff puff puff as you panted, unable to stop, because every time you slowed down for even a second you heard them.

Slow measured steps to close behind you for you to slow. He was just walking, you were running as hard as you could, it had to be some kind of trick. Another way to fuck with your head. It had to be some kind of trick, but you weren’t going to slow down for a second to find out. Through thick snowy woods with tall shadowy conifers that cast unsettling shapes in the snow. 

Down a long winding path, through an ancient stone door standing half open. It was either through the door or into the woods, you made your choice. You kept running, shuddering when slush combined with dust in the doorframe, your foot slipping on the stone steps from the ice and dust on your shoes.

You yelped, dragging yourself up and kept running ignoring clicking as you went. Well maybe not ignoring. You heard it and a part of you wondered about it, but you couldn’t stop running to check it.

Eventually you found yourself at a dead end. A dead end where you could see the sun shining down on a circle of golden flowers. It was right there! The sun was right there and…and the walls of the cave were covered in vines, taking advantage of every inch of sunlight. 

They had large nasty looking thorns, but if you had to choose between them and whoever you heard walking up the hall then you would choose the vines. 

You tried to be careful with your hand placement, you even tried ripping your shirt to wrap around your palms and climb, but the thorns ripped right through, burning scratches carving up your palms.

You tried to look ahead of you, but you felt your blood, so hot it burned on your ice cold skin, running down your forearms. You still saw the bloody handprints you were leaving as you lifted yourself up.

But you were getting there, the footsteps sounded like they were in the same room as you but you could feel the sun on your skin, the edge was right there. You were so close you just needed to reach.

Oh god! Oh my god! 

You thought excitedly. A red gloved hand was reaching down into the hole. You did it! You just needed to reach as far as you could.

You made it to the hand, barely holding onto the vines with your other hand, and your hand just passed right through it.

There was nothing there to grab and then you were falling back into the hole. Crashing to the ground so hard it took your breath for too long, hot blood streaming over your legs where the stems from the golden flowers had cut you as they broke your fall. 

Dust stood over you, snapping his fingers to summon a bone above your sternum.

“Please.” You mouthed hopelessly another voice making you cringe as a knife flew through the air, shattering the bone.

“Dust! It is only day four. We didn’t go through the trouble of setting up all these traps and games just to kill her now.” Killer snapped.

“I don’t care about your stupid game Killer.” Dust sighed, nodding towards you. “Besides, she's hurt pretty badly, I don’t think she's getting up from this one. Those flowers pin cushioned her.” 

“Oh shoot…should we go get a Toriel…or one of those flower things that actually uses friendliness pellets.”

“Whatever dude, have fun.” Dust replied, turning on his heels and walking away, leaving you gasping and looking up at the hole in the cave ceiling, so close but so far away.

Chapter Text

Toriel, as it turned out, was a sweet little old goat lady. Dust and Killer even ended up bringing another goat monster with them, with a long gray mane, like a lion. His name was Asgore, but they weren’t from the same place. After you were patched up and put back together with magic, the two monsters just stared at each other, before laughing nervously.

“Sorry, you look just like my ex-husband.” Toriel said, laughing. Asgore laughed in return, a deep and hearty belly laugh.

“Stars, I was about to say the same thing…except about my ex-wife, you don’t look like a husband.” He rushed, blushing lightly.

“...not to…like interrupt this or anything, but what now?” You asked softly, picking at the hem of a bandage. 

“Let’s get you out of here sweetheart.” The little old lady said, with such a small sweet smile that you actually felt hope. 

“Please.” You replied, nodding as tears collected in your eyes. 

“Oh, dear, hey. It’s alright love.” Asgore said soothingly, laying a comforting paw on your shoulder. 

“It’s just been so hard. I just want this to be over.” You sobbed, letting yourself be pulled into a comforting hug.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to help you get out of here.” Toriel assured you, standing and dusting off her long lavender dress. “Let's go.” She said, and you felt so hopeful walking between the two massive boss monsters. 

Then you came across your first hurdle. 

“I swear these doors were open when I ran through here.” You huffed in exasperation as you looked at the sealed door. 

“Perhaps the puzzles just hadn’t been activated yet.” Asgore suggested, as he looked around the room, before his face lit up, then he turned to Toriel and said, “Magnet puzzle.” while gesturing to four circles lined up along each side of the wall.

“Oh, is that all? This is a very simple puzzle dear.” She explained, smoothing down your hair. “Do not worry. We will show you how.” 

She explained, gesturing to some pillars with three switches, “As you can see these switches are on different heights on the pillars, These pillars correspond to the magnets on the opposite walls, the puzzle is simply to have all the magnets line up so that they pull towards one another.” She explained, walking to one switch and flipping it. Three of the circles flipped around, two on the right and one on the left. There was a loud clack as one of the circles that flipped around shot across the room and connected to one of the circles that didn’t flip around.

“Hmmm…alright…how about this one?” Asgore mused, flipping the second switch. One of the first circles flipped, with two new ones, another loud clack sounded as the second set of magnets shot across the room towards each other. 

“Then with the third, we should be able to see which one we need to un-flip, that's normally how these puzzles work.” Toriel explained, flipping the third switch. A part of the wall that didn’t have circles cut out in it flipped, right above the third switch. The strong magnets ended up on opposite sides of Toriel’s head, too fast to stop, but the crunching sound seemed to echo through the room in slow motion before Toriel fell to the ground. 

There was…something wrong with what you were seeing. Toriel was on the ground, her eyes wide and unseeing, gray spongy brain matter was puffed up around the edges of her skull, blood was slowly spilling out from her, with a clearish film on top, and there was something very, very wrong.

Monster’s turn to dust when they die. 

“Oh god, ohgod,ohgod,ohgod!” You rushed, running to kneel next to the bleeding woman, not knowing if you could touch her or not. “We- We have to do something. Asgore we have to do something!” You screamed looking up at the other goat monster in the room.

One of his paws was clasped tightly over his muzzle and as soon as he looked at your wide pleading eyes, he turned around and threw up onto the stone floors of the ruins. 

You gaped at him before turning back to Toriel, unsure if she could even see you, but her eyes were looking around, a gurgling sound coming from the back of her throat. 

Then she turned to dust and it was just you and Asgore.