Trekking through snow isn't easy, especially when you're wearing short pants in the cold, not a good choice but it's better than wearing your old clothes that had little to no protection against the harsh temperatures. They were too light.
Hugging your arms tightly you continue down the snowed path, your ears trembling violently as they hung limply at the side of your head, if being in-between the rows of tall and most likely half dead trees isn't eery enough you have the constant feeling that you are being followed, paranoia is itching at your brain and scratching at your heart but determination is overpowering them.
You have to continue, like your life depends on it, well it does if you want to leave. But how can your determination protect you from whoever is behind you? The snapping of the heavy branch when you couldn't even lift it and the heavy footsteps behind you but no owner shown is proof enough. Your heart feels like it's going to burst from anticipation.
You reach a gate looking structure whose bars are too wide to be useful, but as you get there you can't move, frozen in place even. You hear the footsteps getting closer and closer until you feel the presence behind you, its gaze driving knives into your back as a cold sweat breaks out on your skin.
"H U M A N," a deep raspy voice sounds from behind you, it came from a man and sounds all too familiar but what the shit? "I S T H A T A N Y W A Y T O O G R E E T Y O U R N E W P A L?" New pal? You don't even know who the voice belongs to, "T U R N A R O U N D A N D S H A K E M Y H A N D."
Fear flows through your veins, you don't want to move but what if this person tries to attack you? You at least want to see the blow coming, won't it be easier on your soul to know who killed you? You gulp dryly, you slowly turn around, the figure is shorter than you but a shadow hides all of his features. He holds out his hand for you to take, your own hand shakes violently as you go to shake his, the air seems to be colder and has grown rather tense, what is happening?
*PPPHHHHLLLGLGGLHHT!*
A whoopie cushion? The sudden and loud sound causes you to yelp in surprise and fall on your butt, the person howls in laughter and falls on his ass as well, holding his head and stomach.
"Haahahahahaha! Y-You should see the look on your face!"
The man buckles over, still laughing at you as if he's been told the best joke ever, he's wearing a light blue jacket with a white fur hood, a white T-shirt, black basketball shorts and fuzzy pink slippers and white socks. You try to normal your breathing, clutching your chest tight, he wipes an imaginary tear from his eye socket. . .wait what?
"S-Sorry kiddo, didn't mean to rattle your bones." He chuckles.
You feel like whacking him upside his head but you are too nice, you start to laugh too (it came out staticy and glitchy but you nor him notice), the funniness of the joke finally hitting you and you both howl in laughter for a while. You two gradually stop laughing, he stands up and holds out his hand again, still giggling but more serious now.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna jump your bones again." He smiles.
You take his hand reluctantly and he pulls you up, he was stronger than he looks. Now that you were standing (and not scared half to death), you then realize he is in fact a skeleton, if the feel of his bony hand against yours wasn't clue enough, he's no taller than your chest so he's a lot shorter compared to Toriel, he has a 'cheeky' grin plastered on his face (you find it weird that his mouth doesn't move when he talks) and his sockets has small dots of white. Maybe those are his 'eyes'. He looks at you and you swear you hear him gasp, his smile faltering slightly, but his smile remains and he lets go of your hand.
YOU ARE READING
Below Ground
Fanfiction[Part One of the Timeline Series] You were a foster child from since birth, you never liked the foster parents you were sent to, they were always 'unworthy' of taking care of someone like you. You had enough after the last family, you wanted freedom...
