UnderHell

Chapter 3 The demon king is hither, beware.

In the end, Frisk went with the Goat. The Ruins were filled with traps and puzzles that were surprisingly easy to solve. The Ruins were filled with creatures who often had a Pentagram carved into them in some place. Some seemed extremely strong considering the fact that underground there wasn't a place to train. Toriel refused to leave them alone, saying the last time she did that to a young child they were killed. Frisk refused to let go of her hand.

    Despite the dried blood on her hand, Toriel's hand was warm and soft. Toriel was Frisk's only way of protection in this unholy place.

    Frisk did not dare to pray, not with this "King" listening.
   
The "King" was the main problem to everything that happened to the d3mons. The "King" had given the d3mons access to magic they shouldn't have access to.

    Toriel was the Queen of the Underground but has long since abandoned her duties after the King, Asgore died. She refused to rule with "The True King" she had said. Frisk nodded and listened.

    "Do not leave the ruins, outside here I can't protect you. Outside here no one will be your friend. The safest you are is inside here, with me." Frisk sighed, they knew they had to leave at some point. They had to escape no matter what.

    "You can live with me. I will feed you, keep a roof over your head, clothes on your back..." Toriel continued on as Frisk zoned out.
    They didn't want to stay here, it does not feel like home. Home are normal people and pray before dinner. Home is school and Church on Sundays and Wednesdays. Home is playing games and reading the Bible.

    Home was not this. It never will be this.

    Then why did they feel so safe? This woman should've been their worst nightmare, but she isn't. This woman feels more safe than their mom. The way their hand looks small when cupped in the red-tainted fur of this woman. How Toriel holds them protectively when a "demon" walks by. Toriel was much nicer than they expected than they expected any demon to be.

    "...And also Frisk, do not trust the dying flower." Frisk looked up at her, afraid.

    "Why..." Toriel stopped and turned towards Frisk.

    "That bastered is the friend of The King. In the end, it will betray you."

    Frisk nodded, and they made a mental note to look for the flower later.

    "Goodnight, my child. Don't let the sleep demons bite." She closed the door of the weirdly comfy feeling room. The room's walls were painted a soft orange, and the floor itself was a warmer orange that tied everything together. There was a bookshelf that had books from the land above, however, there were no Bibles. Frisk did not want to take out their one, for fear of losing it.
    Frisk curled up in the soft bed, enough blankets to be warm and not too cold. Pillows fluffed up just right so Frisk didn't feel like their neck was breaking. With a soft sigh, they let sleep take them.

    They wished they didn't.

    They were standing in the pool of blood they were lying in when they fell. A shadowy figure stood before them, a muzzle hiding their mouth. They had no horns, nor tails. They seemed normal, besides the muzzle.

    "Hello?" Their voice wavered as they slightly raised out a hand as if reaching for the person.

    "Are you a fallen as well?" They dared ask, but no reply was given.

    "Then what is your name?" The person stayed silent as Frisk finally opened their eyes.

    "Ali." The person said, voice flat and cold. Frisk felt a shiver crawl up their spine. The stranger's eyes were a bright red, like the creature in the Ruins.

    Like the creature that attacked them when they fell.

    "You tried to kill me.." Frisk stuttered, trying to back away but their foot hit a corpse.

    "That's right." The creature's voice was still steel-cold as it took a step closer to them.

    "You even admit it!" Frisk hollered, their voice bouncing off the walls.

    "Of course, your death will only add to the thousands." Frisk gasped as it approached closer.

    "As I'm The Demon King, and I'm always watching." The King pounced at them.

    They only remember their face being pulled off the skull, slowly, agonizingly. The flesh slowly being peeled off their muscle and that coming off soon after. The feeling of fingers touching their eyes before they got plucked out like a berry from the vine. They were conscious long enough afterwards to feel their stomach be ripped open and the intestines to be ripped out. After that they passed out, dead.

   

    Only then do they wake in a cold sweat, with a dying flower next to them.