Unusual Nightmare

There was Nothing but the Dream

Scenario Set-Up, so You Don't Get Confused:
AU: None
Route: First-time Pacifist, no previous Resets
Situation: Living with the Skelebros in Snowdin; getting downtime & taking it slow getting to Asgore
Has met: Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Napstablook, Muffet, etc.
Has killed: None

Fanfiction:

There was nothing but a simple hush that had fallen over Snowdin. A small, cavern breeze drifted through the entirety of the small town. Snow lay, obviously and becoming continuously disturbed on the ground, the last few patrons of Grillby's stumbling out into the freezing cold to shamble home.

Tonight was no different from any other.

Including, the recurring nightmare. Frisk never found a way to get rid of it. Every night, it was horror and terrible ambiance. The voices in the darkness beckoning evil deeds and tradings of souls. "Eradicate the world." "Erase this world." "Continue to the next."

But perhaps the most ominous,

"This was not my doing. But yours."

Frisk bolted up from their bed (which was really just a blanket and pillow on Papyrus's' couch), the familiar cold sweat was beating down their face, sometimes entering the eye or mouth and causing discomfort. But this was nothing unusual. Frisk laid there and laid there and wondered what to think of this dream, so direct and, somehow, so childish. Obviously, the work of a dream is of the subconscious, so what is subconsciously trying to reach them? Frisk had no answer. But only the desire to sleep again, even if the same dream came.

Indeed, Frisk fell asleep again. But this time, it was a different dream. There was an unfamiliar golden hallway stretching in front of them. A blazing twilight danced through the stained glass windows and drew patterns of gold on the floor. There was somehow a small bit of wind, but it was unsure how or where it would come from. But there was one thing familiar, that stood gleaming Frisk.

The sparkling, convenient Save Point.

They saved (however that worked) and felt the intense urge to roam through the hallway. That's when Frisk began to notice small differences in their apparel. Things like, the Locket around their neck. Curious, Frisk opened it. It was a happy family, all smiling. But somehow, it filled Frisk with sorrow and they closed it. Then, they looked in their hands, and saw a worn dagger. Was there intent to kill? Frisk felt the undeniable urge coursing throughout their conscience. Frisk almost began to smile but found the self restraint to put the knife out of their range of sight and they began to calm down. Relief. "I won't kill anyone..." they murmured to themself.

"Is that what you said before you killed Papyrus?"

Frisk looked up, surprised at the sudden arrival of Sans. But there was something different about this approach. That usual punny smile suddenly became much more sinister than Frisk remembered. The way the light drew its way around the skeleton became ominous. Frisk didn't know what to say, so they stood there, unconsciously swinging the knife in their hand back and forth eagerly.

"So tell me, do you think even the worst person can change?" Sans asked, looking outside the large window

"You ask too many questions." Frisk said immediately after, without even pausing to think. In fact, it no longer came from Frisk. Frisk realized they were in that dream-oriented third-person view, watching the scene unfold like a movie.

"Then let's just get to the point."

And the familiar battle initiated. The Frisk about to fight Sans was twirling the knife excitedly in their hands. Frisk could hear their thoughts, 'In the way, in the way, IN THE WAY.' But Sans was unconcerned.