Inktobertale 2022 : Compilation of novels

27th of October : Loveless

"Somehow, this is how I always end up. Alone." 

Ink had returned to the Source. Of course, no new paint had fallen, but for some mysterious reason, the protector had still decided to come back here. Maybe to gather up some courage.

You're not alone. I'm here.

"Bullshit. You're just things I repeat to myself. I know you're not real."

...

What can I say ? Perhaps that's true. You did need someone to push you to get stronger, and have the strength and bravery to face this menace, after all. But of course...

"Of course, I don't have anyone around."

But that was your choice, to leave them for a bit, to-

"-To try and find some potential AU. I know." said Ink as he sat on the ground of the Doddle Sphere. "I was stupid to hang on to such an illusion."

You had to, just like you're hanging on to me right now. Because you need that hope to find someone like you. Someone who would truly understand you.

"...Someone I could be entirely honest to."

Someone who could love the real you.

Ink sighed, as he got up.

"That's what I meant. Even with friends, I remain alone."

...Ink ?

"In fact, you could say there's only one type of person who I can count to always come looking for me."

INK ?!

"It's people who want me dead." he said as he turned around, and faced the being who had been standing behind him for the past few minutes. It was the first time Ink saw what his assailant looked like.

"People like you."

It was a skeleton. A Sans. He was dressed like a caricature of Ink, with a long-sleeved shirt, a blouse down around his waist, both entirely white, and he was barefooted. He had a long piece of white tape, the same kind he had wrapped around Ink's eyes, around his neck, floating the wind like a scarf. But two details were highly unsettling, and ironically, these details were also the two things which made the imitation so faithful to the original.

First was his blank expression. Mouth shut, neutral, and his eyes, both two white, emotionless pupils. And second, the large tool hanging from his back, attached by another piece of tape which went around his chest. One bit, the one directed in the air, was large and circular and had a white, rubbery matter around it. It was a very big eraser tip. The other tip was sharp, and triangular, with a bit of white tape resting over it. The large-sized end of a correction tape. Ink could feel a dark aura coming from this grotesque tool. It brought back that headache he had first felt in Negatale. He could feel it, that tool had the same properties Broomie had. And to add insult to injury, Ink's paint vials were hanging from it.