The Seven Deadly Skele-Sins

Chaotic Rescue (Part 1)

THIS IS A LUSTMARE FANFIC, IT IS THE MAIN FOCUS, BUT THERE ARE OTHER MINOR SHIPS AS WELL.

THIS FIC ALSO INCLUDES ECTO-BODIES, SEXUAL THEMES SUCH AS ASSAULT, UNCONSENTED ADVANCEMENTS, MENTIONS OF PTSD/MENTAL ILLNESSES, AND HEAVY VIOLENCE AND LANGUAGE. PLEASE ADVANCE WITH CAUTION.

×××

"Sans, do you know how to drive stick-shift?"

I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Amazingly, yes, I do. It's the only way I know how to drive."

"Good. Next question,"

"Do you know how to drive a huge armoured truck in stick-shift?"

...

"Sure."

×××

I hid behind Nightmare the best I could as he stomped through the grey halls, after informing me of the current situation.

"So, the eldest of the 'Berry Triplets' and the husband of a member here was taken, right?"

I heavily sighed as I said that, feeling a sense of dread knowing that two people that, for one, are barely influencial to the public, which basically means they rarely hurt anyone, and two being that one of them just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wrath pulled a drawer open and shuffled around inside it, looking for something.

"Correct. I don't want two siblings to lose the person they look up to, a husband to lose the one he loves, and a child to only have one father." He held up a small object, sliding his finger down it.

He pressed a small hidden button on it, causing the blade of the pocket knife to shoot out, startling me.

Messing with it a bit, swinging it around and making sure the blade can go back in the handle, he hummed contently as he spun it around to the blade's end, handing it to me.

I nervously took it, twisting it around in my hands. It was a small, black, switchblade, the tiny button being the same colour as the handle.

Night shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back. "You're maybe going to need that if you really want to help us. Hopefully you won't need to use it, but just in case."

My eyes evidently showed worry as I looked up at him. "Do you have a weapon to use?"

He chuckled and pulled his right arm out, and held it next to his head. "Don't need any."

The hand flexed, and the fingertips molded from being goopy and rounded to sharp and stiff. I forgot the man could easily make weapons out of his hands.

Pushing past me after putting his previously clawed hand back in his black hoodie pocket, he turned to the map adjacent to the one on the desk, the one on the wall.

It was the exact same map, but instead of being bare it was covered in different coloured strings and pins, marking different spots in the city.

After beckoning me over to his side, I paid close attention to where he was pointing. At least, as much attention as I could, it was hard to since it was so muddled I could barely tell where's where.