[St] Frozen

It was a familiar cold, clinging to the bones exposed to the air. A thin blanket tangled his ankles and the pillow lay somewhere beyond the mattress he lazily referred to as a bed. Wrappers, paper balls and mismatched socks hovered in the listless tornado in the corner of his room. He knew this place. Sans knew this room and gnashed his teeth to silence a curse he did not want his brother to hear.

Not a dream was he in but a reality none wished to endure. A reality none could reverse or erase. Phalanges dug into the exposed mattress; fabric cried out in pain, cotton snagging in his bones. Tears swelled in his eye sockets, glistening with sorrow, anger and anguish. He silenced his voice to keep his brother away; inside, his soul screamed.

Frisk was dead. As if every sacrifice she endured was not enough, she chose to die rather than wait for rescue. All her talk about not wanting her loved ones in danger; the result surprised no one. What she failed to accept was the value of her life.

Sure, Julius and other kind political forces fought in her absence, but hatred and fear drowned out their cries. The majority of humans hated all monsters as much as Frisk had hated herself, and with her determined soul out of the way…nothing would refuse their will. Before long, the game ended where it began, only…without her to try again.

Every night, Sans closed his eyes in hopes of a nightmare. Every morning, he woke to his bulkier frame and mourned the loss of his human, his northern star, and the only soul he’d ever loved. But no matter how many tears he shed and cries he undulated into the void, she was gone.