Inktobertale 2022 : Compilation of novels

6th of October : Salty

As the waves washed over the white beach, Ink started stumbling towards his cabin as he took a look at himself. His outfit was torn in multiple places, slashes here, mud stains there, but what really ticked him off where the white patches present on his clothes. Like someone had splashed bleach in small quantities, erasing all color from the touched areas of the fabric. But he knew it wasn't the case. This was his assailant's doing, this weird power to take colors from things. Out of both exhaustion and rage, he heavily sighed. "I had just restored that stupid costume."

Sucks to be you.

That took him off guard. Ink had totally forgot the voice in his head. "So, do I have some sort or parasite in my head ? Are you a telepath ?" He suddenly froze. "You're not the guy who I just fought, are you ?!"

Oh, you mean the guy who absolutely handed your ass to yourself ? Nah, I'm not anyone of these.

Finally reaching the wooden house, Ink pushed the door open, threw Broomie on the couch (stolen from an Underfell timeline), and let himself fall onto his mattress. "So what are you ? And besides, he didn't beat me that bad, I just made a tactical retreat due to my... indisposition to fight."

Guess. And besides, he would have beat the shit out of you anyway.

"Oh ?! Well what do you even know about it ?!" Asked Ink as he turned around, and inspected the mirror at the end of his bed to see how bad his face was. 

Maybe because I know what we're capable of. 

...Of course.

Ink stared at his reflection, which had somehow just answered to him. He inspected his own face. Some fractures here and there, ink dripping from his mouth, but nothing serious around the skull, which could justify hallucinations. "...So now I have, like, a double personality or something ?"

Dude, you're constantly chugging emotions down your throat, think about it. The ones you don't use have to go somewhere, right ? Besides, admit that after an entire year of barely talking to anyone but yourself, you kinda had that coming, isn't that right ?

If that had been the only notable thing he had lived today, Ink might have been surprised, or worried by this manifestation, but right now, he really didn't feel like caring. "Just... I think I've gone through enough tension for one day."

Do you really believe in what you just said or is it the saltiness of knowing you are not invincible that's talking ?

"Well I'd like to see you at my place ! Really, I don't think I can take another surprise."

Oh.

Well you better not check your vials then.

"What do you mea-" started Ink as he instinctively lowered his eyes to his chest, and completely stopped.

The vials were gone.

What did you think I meant by "cutting our losses" ?

"No, nononono..." 

Yeah... That's really not an ideal situation.

With a raging scream, Ink punched through the wooden poles making up his walls again and again, screaming and cursing. His eyes were shifting too quickly to take any distinctive form, but they were as red as they got. "FUCKING FUCK HELL !!! SON OF A BI-"

Well at least I'm glad to see you seemed to have taken a huge dose of feelings before losing these. That should give us some more time before...

You know.

As soon as he heard his commentary, Ink froze, and interrupted his punching. Inner-Ink was right. He had no time to lose. Going back to having no emotions was one thing. But having no way to get them back was a whole other problem, which could lead to a dangerous fatality. And it was not something Ink ignored.

How could he ever forget what happened then ?