My Greatest Experiment (Skelebros' Origin Story)

Entry 9

June 15, 2005

...I'm sorry, I don't really know what to say—I'm still a little bit fuzzy. See, I just woke up, and... I'm getting ahead of myself. I... I... It's too soon. I really need to write down what happened, but I still haven't wrapped my own mind around it yet. I'll try again in a few hours.

***

(Sigh.) Okay, I'm not as disoriented as I was before. I think I can handle this. My first instinct is to dive right into what happened with the soul, and what implications this has for my experiment, but I think I should start by telling you what happened during the procedure. As you have probably guessed... it didn't exactly go well for me. It was agonizing. I can't even... there are no words that describe the extent of the pain I went through. I managed to stay conscious for exactly three seconds, and then... well...

It was thanks to pure dumb luck that I survived. One of my assistants heard my screaming, and came to find me. I have no recollection of events from this point on, and so I'll tell you what my assistant told me. I was passed out on the ground beside the laser cutter, my soul still strapped to the table. My soul was losing base at a rapid rate. There was so much of it that it was spilling off of the table and onto me, my notes, the floor...

My assistant had no idea what I was attempting to do, but he was smart enough to put the severed section of my soul into the magic-irradiated vat of water I'd prepared. (Thank god. If I went through all of that for nothing, I would resign here and now.) He wrapped my soul and immediately brought me to the lab's infirmary, and (clumsily, I imagine) tried to heal me. Luckily, he'd watched me use my magic to heal other monsters before, and so had some level of competency in the task. He managed to slow the leaking, and kept my soul wrapped in phase-able bandages and under surveillance at all times. If it weren't for him, I would have died. I suppose... that my assistants are good for something, after all.

I was in a coma for exactly ten days. All of my assistants were very worried about me—they thought that I had fallen down. Of course, not knowing what to do, they contacted Asgore. According to them, he came in personally every day to help heal me himself. I have mixed feelings about that. While I am very grateful—he undoubtedly played a very large part in my recovery—I also tend to wish he hadn't come. He, like the rest of my assistants, hadn't the faintest idea why I had decided to cut into my soul, of all things. So, out of concern for my mental health, he decided to investigate my private rooms. He found my notes, and... the experiment. My assistants know all about it now, too.

They, thankfully, seem to support it. Actually, they're all very excited about it. They seem to think of the experiment as my own child, and... well... I suppose I know now what it's like to receive doting attention as a pregnant mother. They tease me endlessly about it, and they keep asking me what I'm going to name him. (And yes, it is a him, but I will get into that later.)

As for Asgore... I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him yet. My assistants inform me that he usually comes in around four, just in time for tea. You know, there are times I really don't understand that monster. They tell me he always brings in tea for the both of us, in his favorite flower-print cups. ...But what's the point of having tea with a comatose monster? I imagine it's very depressing.

I'm getting off topic again! I'm sorry, it seems I'm not entirely recovered yet. My mind is wandering. What was I talking about? Oh yes, Asgore. I'm somewhat uneasy about meeting with him, when he comes. This kind of experimentation isn't inherently illegal—it's never been done before, so there was no need for laws to restrict it—but I can't imagine he'll be very pleased with me, either. I'm trying to come up with some good tea-related puns. If I can get him into a good mood, maybe he'll let me off easy. (It's a long shot, but I can hope, can't I?)