Underfell: What Does It Mean To Be Happy?

On Our Way (Part 1)

The walk, or rather, trot to the dump was quiet and unsettling. Darkness began to engulf our bodies, surrounded us, and pulled on the nips of our clothes-no doubt leading us to our impending doom. I tread the known, yet mysterious path while carefully watching out for anything blocking our path. Papyrus had not spoken a word since our departure, but I felt they [words] were unnecessary.

His face held no emotion and his sockets were an unusual shade of black. On occasion, I have come across Sans without his glowing irises. On such occasions, he was spacing out and unresponsive, but he somehow never let that shit eating grin of his crack to reveal his real emotions. However, that was Sans, the total opposite of his younger brother, or better known as: Papyrus the tyrant, the brute, the Commander and Chief, the Boss, the asshole....The younger brother was not a complicated being; he was hot headed, commanding, heartless, and showed no other emotions besides anger and arrogance.

I would include another [emotion], but am unaware of any feelings that compel you to be a dick. Either way, he was highly unlikely to show any emotions. However, here he was with empty sockets and a scowl on his face. Perhaps worry had clouded his mind and the throbbing ache of lost love had softened his ice cold heart....or maybe he was beyond pissed at his brother for not only failing to show up to work, but for also disobeying his direct orders. Deciding between the two was not hard.

  The silence besides the continuous shuffle of feet and the sound of dirt being crushed beneath them began to work my nerves. To be honest, I've never been and hope to never be a patient soul. Patience is a virtue that cannot hope to be tainted by a run down, shabby robot such as myself, hence the reason why I dared not to humor the behavior in any aspect whatsoever.

That could also be the reason why Sans has taken to calling me...what was it again? He's only been gone for a few days and I've already forgotten so much about him. "Walk faster, kiss ass," I hear Papyrus snap at me as I notice how far ahead he is. I trot up closely behind him and remember the childish -actually mature- nickname, or rather, nicknames bestowed upon me by Sans himself. If I could remember correctly, I unconsciously count on my fingers, there were a little more than ten nicknames he's ever called me; and all of which I can't bring myself to get mad at. Let's see, there is: princess, wise-ass, kiss-ass, bimbo, gasbag, loudmouth, weirdo, geezer (after I told him I was actually a ghost), Broadway junkie, and dickhead.

While most of those are true, I always glared at him when he said them, but he would brush it off with a laugh or a shrug of nonchalance. Now that I look back on those memories, none of the insults he called me ever hurt me in anyway (save for my pride). A light bulb went off in my head as soon as I started to question the reason for my lack of hate or distaste towards Sans and his petty jabs. Never has he insulted me to hurt me; none of his words were triggers and when he did throw salt my way, it was never laced with the usual hate and malice that I was accustomed to from years of berating and constant abuse. They were always hollow, in all honesty. It was as though he loathed the words coming from his mouth. A smile spread across my face; Sans was too good to me. I felt my thoughts being ripped from brain as I collided into a large pile of trash in the middle of my pathway. I pry my face from piece of gum trying to make its way into my hair, but as I rise, a pair of bony legs halt in front of my eyes

The world around zoomed faster than my eyes could process. It took some time for my eyes to readjust, but once they did, I found myself hovering -more like hanging- three feet in the air; and since I'm about 6"0 when standing, being any higher than I already am in heels scared the oil right of my joints. I reached up to grab my face, but I came in contact with a bony arm with a bony gloved hand around my throat, the source hoisting me up in the air, no doubt. I looked down to meet the presumed angry face that possessed said limbs, but I was met with something more horrific. A cold chill racked my very soul as I gazed into the dark, empty sockets of my captor; they held something akin to malice mixed with... sadness? We stayed locked in our positions, neither of us making a sound. Minutes that seemed like hours passed with him just boring his eyes into my own. Another moment passed before I was thrown into a giant pile of garbage to the left of our bodies, or rather, his body since mine was racing through the air. Luckily I had no sense of smell because the awful stench of spoiled foods and other unwanted items would have killed me if the collision with said items surely didn't. I looked up from my rather uncomfortable position in the heap of junk and watched the aggressor retreat in the direction past the Dump. He stopped in mid pace and glanced behind him. "Come on." I hurriedly maneuvered my way out of the junk and ran to catch up to his, once again, retreating figure that slowly started to match the darkness that kissed our bodies along with everything else in its belly. Though it was clear he was still ahead of me, I couldn't help, but feel his entire being was the darkness itself.

Author's Note
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Sup, guys, I know I haven't updated this in forever, but I've been very busy and lazy. I decided to complete this on Christmas to surprise you all. Sorry to leave you all on a cliff hanger, but also not sorry 🙃. Also, I imagine that Underfell Mettaton would be a lot taller than the main one, but I also imagine the same for Underfell Papyrus. Mettaton is 6"0, Papyrus 6"4, Sans 5"3 (he's taller than me 😥) Grillby 6"3 and a half, and Dogamy and Dogaressa are both 8"10. So when I say something is huge, it's HUGE

Also, leave comments. They're the highlight of my day