WHAT A DREAM, HE'S A GOOD BOY!
⚠️ mature, suggestive, & explicit language, mentions of killing, use of threat, vivid descriptions, drinking alcohol, and a whole lot of skeletons!
——read with caution
here's a side note:
I'M BACK AND I'M READY! ROLL ON THAT 10K!
I CAN'T PROOFREAD IN THE MEANTIME, SO I'M SORRY IN ADVANCE!
١٥٧٤ ♡
SECOND PERSON POV
PATROLLING THE SAME, BORING HALLS HAS been causing Rust a lot more boredom than lazing around their couch at home with his brother, Swap, nagging him to 'spend' his time doing something 'productive'. It could be better knowing they come around every other day or so, but with the swapped Papyrus as opposed to his other lively friends— Ink tries to avoid him as much as he can. Well, the taller guy would very much want to be excerpted from this predicament if he knew the artist would take on the lead patrol today.
He scoffs, inhaling a huff of the cigarette that's been off and on his mouth for the past ten minutes. In fact, he doesn't even know how many he has finished already, could be considered a blessing and a curse. The tall skeleton forgets how to count under stressful situations like this, although it's mostly because he's irritated he gets to see Ink every 30 minutes for patrol reports.
Killing the cigarette with his phalanges on the butt and pressing it on a wall, he flicks it away to a nearby trashcan, then pockets his hands and continues walking along. As he stares down at the floor, Rust could only ponder about what he'd want to do after his shift; billiards? Though he sucks at the sport, it was satisfying to play and poke the cue. Most times, he'd miss the ball, but eh, it's not him if he's good at hitting those rolling irritations.
The swapped Papyrus just wants to live another day not hearing about some random assassin his brother, Ink, and Dream have been trying to track these months.
Like, okay, she's part of L.I.E Industries— they're not the most innocent service providers out there after all. Whoever that Platinum-ranked lady sure does know how to hide her tracks well, knowing the Stars don't know what the hell she looks like or what her real name is. It was hella stressful, there were a lot of names to choose from: (Name), An, Xylia, Zio... the list goes on forever.
She'll rot in hell when she dies anyway. Or physically alive, in La Llorona, the prison for high-end criminals.
As he turned a corner, Rust was suddenly pulled back with a hand over his mouth and the barrel of a gun pointed at his neck. He swore he had never heard someone lurk around, much more armed, but due to the nature of whoever this was not firing yet— he tried to calm down and think more rationally about his actions. They must want something from him if they're not hurting him in any way.
He would've spoken already if their grip on his teeth wasn't hurting; to the point the skeleton was worried they'd dust him on the spot if there was more force added to it than not. Dangerous, that's the first thing he noted in his brain. This person was dangerous.
They made a subtle motion of turning the barrel of their gun in his neck, twisting it slightly. "What's the code for the safe."
Surprise colours his skeleton features when he realised it is a female. The realization was brief, however, when they plunged the gun deeper. It made the skeleton groan in pain, annoyance brewing in his mind.
YOU ARE READING
𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ␈ ˢᵃⁿˢᵉˢ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
Fanfiction ١٥٧٤ ♡ ❝(Name) is something... unpredictable, an enigma, perhaps. but that just adds to her charm.❞ ...
