Orange Broken Bones

Dust Yourself Off

The ruins stood quiet and still while the winds blown through the forest beyond its large purple doors. The boot's noise in the thin snow crunched as the tall skeleton trudged through them, just playing with some of the chunks of snow around like soccer. But one of the ice chunks got away from him and Papyrus laughed before he began the chase before a clank against something echoing all around brought him to a guarded stance. A stance that every blood-born guardsmen had with every startled reaction. Papyrus summoned up an orange bone in each hand before the ruins stood in front of him, nearly making his jaw fall off in shock. It was tall, Papyrus had to admit, despite him being a six footer in height himself. Going up to the wall, not even caring about the ice chunk he kicked earlier, Papyrus places his hand against the cold doors and felt a sensation on the other side. It felt...surprisingly off on the other side, like there was no signs of life close by on the other side. It felt dusty but Papyrus couldn't be sure about it. A chill went down his spine before a scream from nearby made Papyrus nearly jump out of his red-orange boots and into a pile of soft snow next to the doors. The scream sounded like a citizen in trouble and Papyrus's steps were on the move towards the sound.

Reaching the mandatory destination of the helpless scream, Papyrus came to face a small trail of dust by a small shack, close to Snowdin town. He never seen a shack near the town before and knows it isn't reality when he remembers there was never one anyways, but the dust....it was mixed with some fresh red liquid, it looked like blood. That silence fell upon Papyrus and it started to make him feel a little bit of confusion, but also fear within his bone marrow. It probably nothing! It might be those pesky teens going at their pranks to try and get Papyrus's reaction. No way is he gonna give it to them if this was a real deal.

But then it started to get serious to where Papyrus knows it wasn't some joke anymore.

Almost the entire roads of Snowdin were piled with dust and small blood puddles brushed against the ice and snow on the sidewalks and shop banners. Every step he took he felt more uneasy and the feeling to turn around and see the bloody paths again. Papyrus called out to any name that he knew from his childhood town, even the shop keeper, who wasn't at her desk when Papyrus looked through the glass to find the place almost painted with dust and no more lollipops were in her treat jar. A gust of breeze nearly caused him to jump before an orange glow stirred inside his right eye socket. Papyrus couldn't find anybody, not even some of his friends in whom he chats with on the Undernet most of the time since they went about their own lives. It was too quiet and Papyrus's fear made him feel uncomfortable. He never experienced this much insecurity before. Sure he has expressed fear while growing up, but it was rare occasions from being so brave in protecting his loved ones from nightmares and such. But this got Papyrus on the edge of calling out to his brother, Undyne, any friend he could think of, anybody to just respond to his calls. He checked around and headed towards his miniature short cut to the river connecting paths from Snowdin to Waterfall, but something caught his eye quicker than Undyne's spears shooting past him whenever they trained his defense techniques.

A blue jacket laying carelessly in a lump of snow just a few feet from the fishing pole. His heart (well...soul, right?) dropped into his non-existent stomach.

"S-Sans...?" said Papyrus, his voice now becoming the towns echo besides the winds.

........

No response, just the wind continuing to howl softly against the squeaking signs that read the town's name. His soul started to beat faster when he got closer, seeing no dust around Sans's soft blue jacket. The closer Papyrus got to the jacket, the more his soul raced and the more his feelings of fear grew to be obnoxiously disturbing. He bent down to the jacket and his lazy older sibling was nowhere to what Papyrus has imagined him to be sleeping, away from all the dust and minor blood spots. Only a huge pile of dust and blood remained under the jacket, and even some in the sleeves and hood.