❆ Frozen Heart ❆ | Nightmare Sans X Reader

1. It's Tradition

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Fireworks erupted sporadically, disturbing the peaceful silence of the night sky. The vibrant flashes of colour contrasted the stark grey clouds like paint on a blank canvas. The reflections of light decorated the newly fallen snow. Energy in the village was as high as the fireworks and each street was crammed with people, along with dozens of market stalls selling everything from furniture to fish.

(Y/n) weaved between the clusters of people, and headed to their favourite stall. It was set up in the same spot every selection; right beside the wooden stage. Their shoes hit the stone pathway with a repetitive clack as they ran.

After (Y/n) finally reached it, they took a moment to breathe as they glanced over their options. Dozens of freshly baked goods were lined up neatly. Breads, biscuits, sweet pastries, savoury pasties, and cakes, all cooked to perfection. The stall was run by Marcus. He was a large man, with tawny skin, grey eyes, and tightly curled, chestnut brown, hair.

(Y/n) hastily grabbed their favourite treat, and hurriedly passed the money owed to Marcus. Their frantic attitude concerned the fatherly salesman.

"Got somewhere to be?" Marcus asked. (Y/n) fidgeted nervously, and let out a halfhearted chuckle before replying.

"No, it's just the whole 'let's send someone to their death' thing kinda freaks me out." Which was true; (Y/n) had never been a fan of the selection. They'd witnessed four ceremonies in the past, four people chosen, two of which never returned home.

"That's fair. My kids can't stand it either. They stay home during the celebrations, and I'm only out here 'cause it's good for business." He explained with a shrug.

"Oh... Well, tell them I said hi, and enjoy your evening!" (Y/n) mentioned. They took another bite of their food while walking away from the stall.

"Take care of yourself!" Marcus stated sincerely.

(Y/n) shouted a goodbye back, attempting to escape the growing crowd before the ceremony began. However for each person they evaded another was added to the horde of people. On and on, the stream of individuals continued as (Y/n) muttered an endless string of 'excuse me's. And then, just as they were about to reach the edge of the crowd-

"Hello everyone!" A feminine voice bellowed over the bustle of people.

Too late. The ceremony had begun. (Y/n) looked to the edge of the crowd, then back to the stage. They shrugged, deciding stay where they were. Might as well see whose getting shipped off to slaughter this year.

"Now, I'm sure most of you know about the legend behind our festivities here tonight," The announcer continued. "but in case you don't-"

(Y/n) tuned her voice out. They'd heard the story a million and one times before. Faceless hero, wicked monster, it all seemed so predictable. However there was one tiny detail that always confused them, that always stuck out to them, even as a child: the ambiguity of the myth. It's never stated what the legend meant by "breaking" the creature's frozen heart. Despite the townsfolk's assumptions, it never directly refers to killing the monster, and the vague nature of the iconic phrase had puzzled (Y/n) for years.

"Now! The moment you've all be waiting for!" The announcer shouted over the crowd, attempting to shut up the few individuals disrupting her speech, and knocking (Y/n) out of their thoughts in the process.

"This selection's champion is..." She paused. Silence was present for the first time since the celebrations began. The seconds ticked by: one, two, three, four, five. Finally, she cleared her throat, as the crowd held their breath, praying that the individual chosen was anyone but them.

"(Y/n)!"

(Y/n) froze. Their eyes widened in disbelief. Their breathing hastened as dozens of pairs of eyes locked on to them, boring through their skin and burrowing into their bones. The announcer called their name again, only to receive no response.

"Are they here? Ah, there you are!" She pointed at (Y/n); drawing even more attention to them. She beckoned them to the stage as she spoke. Her hand outstretched as though asking them to take it.

"Come up here, we need to have you prepared for your journey!" She called encouragingly. The announcer seemed completely unaware of how daunting this may be to them. Unaware of how harrowing the implications of their name being called truly were. Or maybe she was willingly ignorant; focused on the crowds joy rather than (Y/n)'s distress.

(Y/n) stepped forward cautiously, attempting to stabilise their breathing as they walked. They were aware of the townsfolk judging their every move, their every twitch, their every breath. Hushed whispers spread through the crowd like locusts through a field of crops as they reached the base of the stage.

The announcers outstretched hand felt more taunting than reassuring, like fresh meat set beside a bear trap. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment before taking it and hoisting themselves up on to the stage.

"Everyone!" The announcer perked up again. Turning away from them to face the crowd as she spoke. "Our final ritual, our ceremony's hymn, sing it loud and sing it clear!"

The townsfolk sprung to life, dozens upon dozens of people united in one morbid chorus. However, the voices of the crowd were nothing but nonsensical static to (Y/n). Each verse blended into a meaningless string of words. They were lost in their own mind, drowning in their terror, and the songs lyrics were not reassuring in the slightest.

(Y/n) glances at Marcus' stall only to find the man staring at them in horror. His mild concern earlier seemed like pure joy compared to his current alarm. As the rest of the crowd sang merrily he stood still, dumbfounded, fearful. Fearful of the fate (Y/n) will meet, regardless of whether they find the creature.

The crowd lit up in cheers and applause as the song concluded. Smiles plastered across their faces, laughter hanging in the air like bunting. Many individuals wandered off in different directions, continuing their celebrations just as they had before the ceremony as the announcer led (Y/n) off of the stage. Much to their confusion.

"Come along, (Y/n). Come along..." she whispered as she pulled them by their sleeve. "You should head home and get some rest. We'll send someone for you in the morning." The announcers voice was hushed, almost considerate. Her eyes were full of pity as she looked at them.

(Y/n) nodded slowly, understanding her unspoken thoughts. The entire town was on board with the selection's verdict; disrespecting it would be worse than treason. It was an age old tradition after all, and traditions don't disappear overnight.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, turning and walking away before (Y/n) could respond. Leaving them alone by the stage; the crowd long since dispersed.

Looking down at the ground, they took a small bite of the almost forgotten food in their hand. What had they gotten themselves into?

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A man peered out at the town, his elbows rested on a windowsill. From this distance, the deafening bangs of fireworks were nothing more than whispers echoing through the forest. The ceremony should be over soon, and with it the sickening amount of positivity would dwindle away. He sighed in pure relief at the thought.

The glass in his hand swirled with the movement of his wrist, disturbing the deep red liquid inside. The man raised it to his teeth, taking a sip. He then lowered the glass, as a grin made its way on to his face.

"I wonder..." He drawls out deviously. "Who will your valiant champion be this year, hm?" A laugh escapes his teeth, gravelly and malicious, as he steps away from the open window. The sounds of celebration fading behind him.

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Author's Note:
Whoo first chapter done!
As per usual, if you notice any grammar mistakes please let me know!
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