Cage Of Bones

Chapter 42: Poetic Justice

Author's Note: Ooookay, after that bombshell dropped last chapter, how's everyone been holding up after so long? Okay? Alrighty cool! Cuz now the REAL battle can begin!

Quick note that a section of this chapter is gonna feel a bit disjointed and maybe a bit repetitive at points, but it's for a good reason! You'll see what I mean once you get there.

Trigger Warning(s): Uncensored language, confrontation of past trauma, implied PTSD-based disassociation, implied reemergence of repressed memories due to trauma, flashback(s) to traumatic events, depictions of childhood trauma, implied off-screen murder, implied off-screen character death, references to past suicidal ideation, implied indirect past suicide baiting, attempted manipulation, victim blaming, attempted gaslighting, references to past physical/magical violence against another character, implied/explicit examples of child abuse/endangerment (both physical and emotional), examples of possession, and (attempted) physical/magical violence against another character. Viewer discretion is advised.

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Sans felt as if all the noise around him deafened the moment Rune opened his mouth; the only sound that he could discern being the fast beating of his own soul. His peripheral vision was starting to blur, the only thing his eyes could focus on being the murderer before him. He could feel his breath begin to run ragged, panic putting him in a chokehold as he struggled to keep air coming in and out of his system. The muted sound of his mother's final words was echoing in his mind as if on a loop, his hands shaking as the warm blood dripping from his wound stained his hoodie; the smell only serving as a reminder that this wasn't the first time that the article of clothing had been stained red.

Especially if this genuinely twisted soul that had reappeared was to be taken into account.

Sans felt his hands moving to his neck on their own accord; breath hitching as he felt the phantom pressure of a knife being held there, the pinpricked whites in his eye sockets nearly nonexistent as his shoulders shook with panic.

Rune gave a subtle smirk at that reaction, the crooked grin sending a full-body shiver through Sans as the human let out a boisterous laugh.

"Awwww, what's the matter Comic Sans? Seen a ghost or something?" he joked, his silvery eyes sparkling in amusement as he brought his arms up and behind his head as he leaned back; Chara's limp form copying the motion as their arms raised up and behind to mimic this new stance.

Sans wouldn't have been able to answer even if he wanted to. His mind was a million miles away as the presence of the person before him made him suddenly feel the smallest he's ever felt, nothing but child-like terror coursing through him as his grip tightened ever so slightly against his throat; not enough to actually choke himself, but enough to show that he was feebly trying to ground himself as the last encounter he had with Rune replayed in his mind like a film reel.

The knife against his neck.

The arms held around his shoulders.

The hot breath going down the back of his neck as cruel laughter filled the air.

The look of pure terror on his mother's face.

The sound of walls and pillars crumbling around him as bones were sent through them.

Bullets flying. Blood dripping. Dust flying into his face....

...So much dust...

Papyrus looked ill as he looked between his brother and the newcomer, the petrified look on Sans' face being one he's never seen before; at least not at this scale.