Just a Little While Longer (SoLYGBM timeline)

Chapter 38: Just A Friendly Chat (part two)

(inspired by Staringback)
<3

(new)
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There was an overwhelming black rage that began to boil in Sans' conscious, he wanted nothing more than to make this slimy fuck suffer. To contain his agonising need to tear Grillby's limbs off and beat him a nasty slow dusty death, Sans brought the sharp knife down onto the purple flame hand still strapped to the chair. It cut through his palm like warm butter and shanked itself through the very wood of the chair. It was lucky that the screams of pain managed to numb Sans' hatred just enough to keep him from murdering the bartender. He pounded his balled up fist directly into Grillby's gut making him double over and cough out more blood and dust.

"YOU SLIMY. DISGUSTING. PATHETIC. FUCKING. PIECE OF.
S H I T!!!!"

More punches and brutal hits met with Grillby's jaw, side and wounded hand with each swing emphasising every one of Sans' words. Sans thought of the broken women just outside the room that this repulsive fuck had punished and beaten on countless occasions. His little lady now in the clutches of that fluffy maniac, being forced to pose as his crazy bitch of a wife's dead kid. The danger and humiliation she must've been going through. What could've happened to her if ASGORE hadn't taken her. Those awful awful thoughts of some cheap lonely waste of space touching her body in the disgusting ways Sans dared not to linger on, gnawed their way back into his skull.

The thought of her tear-stained bruised face was the only thing that made his arm pause halfway through this beating. His hand trembled in the air, knuckles spattered with blood and dust. The room had already been covered in red smoke, the stained floor barely visible through the thick crimson fog. That rage and anger that had covered Sans' SOUL so quickly, ebbed away slowly just as easily as it had appeared to him. Clenching his hand he tried to prevent his shaking from becoming too much to control, he wasn't even sure if he was looking at Grillby's half unconscious face anymore. All that filled his mind was the echoing noise of quiet weeping and heartbreaking sobs, the hate now replaced with the familiar cold despair. His blackened sockets were stinging again with wisps of smoke fading from the corners of his eyes.

He had gotten her into this mess... and now because of his ignorance and reckless selfishness Frisk would suffer because of it.

The skeleton's shoulders slumped and he let his arms fall to his sides, looking at the almost pitiful beaten wretch flickering dim flames. Sans felt black bile begin to rise in his throat just at the thought that he used to consider this "man" something of a friend once...

"Call it luck that I don't have the damn time to rip you to fuckin' shreds Grillbz. But I know two lovely ladies that'd have a good ol' time dusting you, pal. Do me a favour and don't go nowhere."

Stepping out of the room Sans took a deep breath to process everything that had happened in the past hour while closing the door behind him. Holding the bridge of his nasal bone, he shut his sockets tight to try and relax himself and his rushing pulse.

"Hey boss? I found somethin' you might wanna see..."

Opening one socket he glanced at Jerry, who was looking about nervously and wiping a disgusting trail of snot from his face. Sans quietly gagged waving his hand and trying not to look at the sleezeball.

"Just gimme a second, I gotta talk with Binkie and Pyre. Where are they?"

"Having a drink."