Undertale Short Stories and One-shots

Memory

"Aren't you going to hit me?"

Its mouth barely opened when it spoke, as if it was sure no one could hear it - as if no one wanted to hear it. Its eyes looked like large pools of dark chocolate, sunken into its head, the shadows below them so dark they looked as if it had gone years without sleep. It turned slowly and cautiously to glance in his direction, gliding over his form, almost as if he wasn't there, and he was nothing but a golden flower, shivvering in the pale sunlight coming down from the hole in the roof of the mountain.

    "Why would I hit you?"  he asked, confused. Did he really look that mean? He asked himself worriedly. The creature had pale flesh, almost white, and its cheeks were a pale pink colour, as if it had been straining them. He could tell, even if he had never seen this creature before, that it was overly thin, and was probably starving. Suddenly, he felt a rush of protectiveness - this creature was alone, and hungry.

    "It's time for my beating," it answered, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Its eyes showed no emotion as it spoke, no fear, nor sorrow or sadness, not even happiness or joy.

    "Who hit you? Where are they?" he demanded. He would go to them and show them what happened to monsters that beat people up! But the creature didn't answer, instead it simply pointed up at the hole in the roof of the mountain - the hole to the human world. Then he realised. The creature was a human.

    "You've fallen down, haven't you?" he asked, trying to sound sympathetic, even though he had no idea what it was like to be separated from your family. "Here, get up." He held out his hand, and the human took it hesitantly. "What's your name?"

    They paused before answering.

    "Chara."

    "Chara? That's a nice name! My name is..."