False host (undertale fanfiction)

Chapter 7: The Undying Resolve

"Toriel, explain," Sans muttered, crouched next to Papyrus, who lay limp and broken. He gripped his brother's hand, trying to steady his breath.

"Sans, please... Papyrus could still be alive," Toriel said, a note of desperation in her voice. "He hasn't turned to dust yet!"

"I know." Sans's gaze was fixed on Papyrus's cracked skull. "But this wasn't an accident. Someone tried to hurt him on purpose." His eyes narrowed. "And I need to know who."

Toriel's gaze faltered, her expression shifting to one of sorrow. "I'm sorry, Sans. I... didn't see anything."

Sans's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Gently, he lifted his brother's arm over his shoulder. "I'll take him to your house," he said quietly, and Toriel nodded, moving to help him carry Papyrus.

As they walked in heavy silence, a voice echoed in the corners of Sans's mind.

"This is all your fault, Sans." Chara's voice dripped with venom.

"Shut it," Sans growled under his breath, "we don't know what happened yet."

"Oh, but we do," Chara taunted, now materializing beside him as he trudged forward. "Shall I remind you? You gave them three days to choose... and just like that, someone decided to take matters into their own hands." Chara leaned in close, their expression twisted in a sick grin. "What if Toriel is next?"

"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!" Sans's voice cracked through the night air, and Toriel flinched, startled by the outburst.

"Sans?" Toriel's worried gaze lingered on his face. "Oh dear, you look... awful."

Sans realized he was trembling, his hands clenched into fists. Toriel gently placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice softening. "I'll do everything I can to help him recover, Sans. He'll pull through... he's strong."

They reached Toriel's home, and Sans escorted Papyrus to an empty room. He carefully lowered his brother onto the bed, his mind spinning with a thousand questions.

Chara appeared by the doorway, leaning against the frame with arms crossed. "What now? Gonna cry? Or are you finally going to do something about this?" they sneered. "Tear down that village if that's what it takes to ensure your brother's safety."

Sans shook his head, whispering, "There are innocent villagers there, only the necessary should be sacrificed."

Chara's eyes gleamed with irritation. "Necessary? You're hesitating again, Sans. There are people out there who oppose you—oppose us. Don't you see? This is a war, and the only way to win is to take control."

Sans looked down, his gaze flickering with doubt, but he stayed silent.

Sans left Papyrus to rest, heading to the kitchen in search of something to ease his spinning mind. But as he entered, he stopped dead in his tracks. There stood Toriel, her back to him, the soft glow of the stove illuminating her figure. In her hand, she held a crumpled piece of paper, and she was raising it toward the open flame, her face etched with a look of worry and resolve.

"Sans! listen I---" she began, her voice wavering as she turned, surprised to see him standing there.

But she'd barely begun before Sans's anger flared. Without a word, he stretched his hand forward, blue energy radiating from his fingers, seizing her soul in his grip. Toriel's eyes widened in shock and fear as Sans yanked her backward, pinning her against the wall, the letter slipping from her fingers and fluttering toward the floor.

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice low and seething as he bent to pick up the note. He read it aloud, his voice growing colder with each word: "'Get out of our town, you skeleton freak. The village doesn't want you.'"