Horrortale : Rotten apple | Horrortale AU

Chapter 8 : One way ticket to hell

Frisk watched the landscape go by through the car window, a knot in their stomach. They were getting close from their destination. On the front seat, Miss Vonichelle scrutinised them, still mad. The child wanted to talk with Chara so badly, but their friend couldn't enter the vehicle. Frisk could see both Asgore and them appeared at several street corners. Their ghosts were linked to their soul, and it kinda dragged them every time Frisk was getting to far from them. They didn't know how it worked exactly, but they hoped it didn't hurt them. That was not like they could do anything to help them anyway.

The old shrew hit curtly their knee, which made the child jump by surprise.

"Hold yourself upright and stop looking outside like a lost puppy." she clicked her tongue. "This is not possible to be undisciplined at this point ! And I naively thought I succeeded to teach you some morals all these years... What a waste of time."

"Fortunately, not everyone have your morals. The world would be a piece of garbage if everyone was like you." Frisk retorted eyes to eyes with a bravery they didn't know they had.

The answer didn't take long to come. Miss Vonichelle's hand smacked violently against their cheek, forcing them to look away. The child shut themself instantly. They were used to it by now, but that didn't mean they should let her have a grip again on their life. This time, Frisk knew they were useful and no one, and certainly not her, would take this away from them.

The metal gates of the orphanage opened in front of the car. Frisk couldn't repress a shiver of disgust at the sight of this too familiar building. It was one of the oldest construction of the city, but, contrary to others, this one never had been renovated. Not enough money. And anyway, who was caring about the fate of some humanity rejection ? The red bricks' facade was deteriorating for years, several windows were broken, only replaced with plastic bags, and the "Mrs. Vonichelle's orphanage" sign above the front door had been illegible for as long as they had been here. The building was rather small and surrounded with huge black railings that circled a piece of burned lawn in which some ancient rusty playground rested. Frisk was far away from the cosy little house of Toriel or Sans and Papyrus' eccentric one. It was nor warm, nor original, only cold, mournful and terribly unremarkable.

The car slowed down, then stoppend not far away from the front door. The driver got out and walked all the way around the vehicle to open their persecutor's door, then Frisk's door. But the child didn't move. They could hear distinctly the woman sighed out of exasperation.

"Marian, get out of here." she ordered with her toad-like's voice. "Do not force me to come for you."

"My name is not Marian." answered Frisk with a darker tone.

"Very well, you asked for it."

She leaned to catch them, but Frisk moved backwards to the opposite door, out of reach. Their tutor could have shoot lasers with her eyes. The child sticked their tongue out and as she was going the other way, they rushed to the open door that she made the mistake to let open. Frisk jumped in the alley and sprinted toward the gate as fast as they could. Vonichelle screamed their name and the driver immediately went after him. The entrance was automatically closing, but if they were fast enough, they could slip through the bars. They almost reached their objective when a strong grip pulled them back. Frisk struggled and yelled, angry, but the orphanage's assistants were already rushing to them.

No.

No, they refused to give up. They put a hand to their pocket and got the real knife out. If they learned one thing from their trip in the Underground : if you couldn't spare, then fight ! They stabbed the driver in the arm with all the force they could. He screamed, badly hurt, but let go of them. Frisk kept running, but the gates closed right in front of them. They gathered speed and they ploughed through the bars, shoulder first. It was resistant, but Frisk kept pushing to get through, as fast as they could. Tears ran on their cheeks as they were slowly realising their chances to escape were decreasing.