Feralverse Short Stories

Feraldance (Backstory)

Sans remembered. He remembered the school dancing contest. That's where it had happened. He, like many other young monsters, had been eager to show off the dance moves he'd learned. He never meant for anything bad to happen. All he'd wanted to do was dance and make his family proud. Instead, his dad got a call from the school, saying he'd lost it on his fellow classmates and nearly blinded one of them, Doggo. That he was still feral and needed to be picked up before they called the guard and had him transfered to a feral house by them instead. It had been the worst day for the entire family. Sans never snapped out of his feral state. No matter how much Gaster tried to cure him. Even years after Sans tamed out. He couldn't forgive himself for what he'd done to Doggo and Diz, and Nacarat, who would have to live under that damn orange mask and cloak the rest of his life. And his father, who had never come back. Sans promised himself that as long as he was feral, he would never interact with another living being for their safety. Which first meant escaping the lab.

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Sans wasn't sure why the elevator was working, but he was a small, agile, and nimble little wolf/skeleton. It took some risk and maneuvering to get from the highest point on a latter and push off into the exposed ventilation shafts near the ceiling. It took a lot of patience to twist off four screws with his claws, too. It was worth it to drag himself into the vent. He sneezed at the amount of dust that was inside and listened and sniffed for the way he was supposed to go, which only resulted in more sneezing. Eventually, he just picked a direct that would hopefully lead up. There was nothing useful that his senses would gather. He had to hope for the best. He knew he'd hit a roadblock eventually... but it still made his soul sink, looking straight up the ventilation shaft to where his freedom was supposed to be. He had at least hoped the incline would have been gradual, not... this. Sans's expression set as he looked for a way to solve this problem. He wasn't going to turn back, not after coming this far. He would get out of here.

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There were little indents in the vents where all pieces fit together. His claws could hook into them. That was his ticket, his way out. That was a lot of physical labor, and after being pinned to a table forever (or so it felt), he was getting exhausted. When he was able to finally drag himself into a safe horizontal vent, it was a relief to him. They the cleaner, the air fresher with a distinctive reptilian scent ahead. People meant a way out... but he'd have to be careful. He looked for the vent opening with the most faded scent before he poked his tail through the slits in the vent. From there, he started to kick, trying to get it open, since he couldn't unscrew it from the inside. Sans nearly tumbled out, but his body reacted on instinct, using his tail to twist in the air so he could spring off his hands and gracefully land on his feet. Sans blinked as he looked up, setting the vent cover safely on the ground. He didn't really know how he did that, but he didn't have time to question it now. Not when he was so close.

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Sans stuck to the shadows as he followed the signs to an exit, keeping as out of sight from that anime watching dragon as possible. It wasn't actually that hard. Entering Hotland was a bit of a shock. The change of scenery was a little jarring, and the Feral in him flinched away. But he couldn't stop here. He had to get as far from other monsters as he could. Sans started running. He avoided all the main paths he could and avoided monsters at every turn. He didn't stop for anything, even the water cooler. He slowed down at Waterfall, though. It looked exactly how he remembered it, howling crags and twinkling crystals above. The dark was familiar and inviting. Soon, he recalled, there would be grass and pools of luminous blue waters, as far as his eyelights could see. This was a place anyone could get lost. No monster could ever find him if he hid here.  Sans thoughts trailed to his little brother, who was out there somewhere... he missed him. Sans huffed and started to walk into the darkness. Papyrus would be safer without him.

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Sans learned quickly that he couldn't just hide, though. He needed food. There were monsters where the food was. He had to learn to adapt. Hide in plain sight. He wore sunglasses and gloves and a cloth to wrap around his tail. He wore a hoodie with the hold always up and joggers. Anything to keep anyone knowing it was him. At first, he just stole food and anything he needed to survive. But when he almost got caught, he took to street dancing for money. He took on the moniker of "Break Wild" and danced mostly in Waterfall and Snowdin. He didn't talk and didn't let others get close, but Break made a name for himself as the best freestyle dancer on the east side of the Underground. Grillby, Asgore, and even Papyrus had all tried to offer him a position in the Guard for his moves, but Break quickly got the hang of teleporting as an escape. He started to practice magic when he wasn't dancing for food. Just in case he needed to defend himself from a human or something like that. They were a very real threat, after all. He couldn't have started at a better time either, because a few years later, Frisk fell down.

Guess who's back~ Back again~ Kyran's back~ With more ahead~