A collection of inane nonsense (ranging from Error being reincarnated as Palette to Dust finding a new love for the color pink) circling around the many AUs and Multiverses of the Undertale world. Some stories will be connected; Others will be rando...
Summary: To enrich Nightmare's outdated lifestyle, Killer takes him to the most mystical place the modern era has to offer- the mall.
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Killer frowned while he examined the area. Humans and monsters bustled about the surface AU, either glaring at one another (on rare occasions) or completely ignoring each other. Not that he minded. The less attention drawn to him and Nightmare, the better.
In front of him stood a tall building complete with levels upon levels of floors, numerous glass windows, and a large sign that spelled "Ebott City Mall" in big letters. Many people walked to and from its multiple entrances. Some carried bags/boxes, and others were empty-handed. However, the label barely peaking out of a random teen's pocket implied otherwise.
He started toward the main entrance after sucking in a nervous breath. Nightmare in all his goopy glory trailed behind, but not too far due to the sparkling pink child leash/harness keeping him from wandering off and getting into trouble. The less-than-normal apparel even had a skull-shaped tag bearing a number to call; plus, a warning saying that anyone close enough to read it might get stabbed.
An odd yet necessary precaution.
(The last thing anyone needed was another lawn sprinkler incident or construction crane incident or- Just no more incidences. That's the only thing Killer prayed for.)
The Guardian of Negativity had allowed it up until this point, if only because some people kept shooting them disturbed looks and shielding their children's eyes. It didn't take a genius to guess that negative emotions played an integral part in why. But, of course, even he was beginning to grow tired of his bound freedom despite the emotional disturbances it caused.
"Do I have to wear this infernal child-safety contraption? I can walk beside you without guidance just fine." Nightmare huffed a few steps down as they ascended the stone stairs leading up to the doorway.
Killer tugged him along, affirming, "Yes. It's my turn to introduce you to the modern world, and I am not losing you like Horror did when he took you to see the roller coasters."
Hours had passed by the time the ravenous skeleton managed to find Nightmare harassing the park staff and attempting to set the roller coasters free into the heavens.
"Ah, yes. The looping, metal dragons were a delight to watch in their natural habitat." The other looked mournful for a mere moment before any sorrow disappeared with a dirty glare and scathing tone. "A shame I didn't get to tame one."
"It was for your own safety." His mind silently added, And for Horror's.
"Yes, yes, so you say. It wouldn't have killed you to let me keep a baby one."
"Nightmare, there will be no roller coasters in or around the area of the house."
The dark lord opened his jaws. Nothing further than a single syllable got out before Killer instantly cut off whatever he was about to say. "Not underneath it or above it either."
An annoyed tsk echoed through the air. "You lot never want me to have anything fear-inspiring. What is the point of taking me to this 'm-all' if you will refuse to let me keep anything that will further my goals?"
When Killer placed his foot above the final step, he spun on his heels to faced the grouchy skeleton. "Hey, we let you keep plenty of things!"
A single cyan eyelight rolled in its eye socket. Nightmare crossed his arms and added snappily, "No, you do not! You wouldn't even let me keep the dense paper board with tiny houses and colorful currency."
Grimacing at the reminder of the awful game, he stated, "Trust me when I say we do not, under any circumstances, need Monopoly in a house with four criminally insane individuals. We hate each other enough already."
The conversation seemed to drop there, silent stretching between the two as they slowly entered the building with Killer holding open the pull door for Nightmare. The negativity-laden skeleton wore an indifferent façade upon stepping past the threshold. But little hints of interest and fascination showed: eyelight lingering on specific storefronts, head turning to look at all the new sights around him, and the tips of dark tendrils pointing in the direction of anything he (likely) wanted to grab.
Guiding them toward the large, billboard-esque map area, Killer could have sworn he heard the other mutter, "How many chicks must one trade to purchase such a thing?" What Nightmare was contemplating "purchasing," he did not know.
So long as no theft happened, everything would be fine.
The hoodie-clad murderer directed his empty eye sockets at the map. It vaguely reminded him of a complex subway chart he'd seen on the Internet some time ago- colored lines, map markers, names, and nonsensical shapes spread all over. How was anyone supposed to figure out where they were trying to go?
Thankfully, before Killer's nonexistent eyelights could begin to hurt, a soft murmur stole his attention. He tilted his skull in Nightmare's direction, asking, "What was that?"
A sour expression akin to the one someone might make when biting a lemon graced the ooze-coated guardian's features. Though, eventually, he conceded and grumbled, "Can we view the colorful, stamped horse while we are here?"
Two dark, viscous tendrils pointed into the distance. Killer's invisible eyelights followed their path, seeing a store with familiar brightly colored horses sitting in the windows.
"Uh, sure. Why?"
"They breed wariness and disgust amongst the humans," Nightmare hesitated before adding, "and Horror told me to seek the one they call 'Sun Butt.'"
"S-sun Butt." Killer snorted.
"Yes, he thought it would be therapeutic for some reason."
Abruptly, Nightmare's skull swerved in the opposite direction, and he bolted like a dog chasing after a car. "Come! I sense an object of great terror."
"Woah, hold on! Not so fast." Killer cried, stumbling as he struggled to match the other's high-paced speed.
Then the dark lord stopped as suddenly as he started, screeching to a halt and forcing his tagalong to face-plant onto the white tile floor. A pained groan escaped the unfortunate skeleton.
As he pushed himself off the ground, an awed voice sounded from in front. "Levitation box..."
The hoodie-clad murderer raised his head to see what Nightmare referred to: a completely see-through cube carrying people between the mall's numerous floors. He raised a nonexistent eyebrow, desperately attempting to hold back a laugh. "It- It's an elevator."
"I must have one. It would be a wonderful addition to the mansion."
That sentence snuffed any mirth he felt in an instant. "No, no, no- We are not putting anything like that in the house."
"What about the magic, moving stairs we passed on the way here?"
