Aliza barely cast a look at the gouged kitchen table, nor the blood stained carpet. She hurried up the stairs, stopping at Sans' door.
She paused, before reaching out and taking the stained handle. Aliza twisted, and opened the door.
She immediately saw the treadmill and the made bed, noting the tornado on his desk. But that wasn't what made her stare.
The room was a temple.
Two mannequins sat in the corner. A child sized one held a blue sweater, purple stripes across the chest. An adult one held a beautiful white dress. Glass cases, like ones in a museum, held beautiful jewelry or old parts of what looked like outfits, like a faded ribbon. Letters stained the wall.
But not as much as the pictures.
Aliza found herself pulling the picture of her mother out of her pocket as she stared at the wall. They were all of her mother- ones of her as an adult and some that looked like her as a child.
Sans was curled up in the center of the room, ax next to him. Quiet sobs emerged from him, shaking his body.
She gulped, taking a step closer. Her hand reached out and touched his shoulder.
It happened in an instant.
He grabbed her wrist and Aliza's back met the carpet. Sans' ax glowed in the dim light as it was held in the air, ready to come down and slice.
It trembled in the air, tears still leaking down her father's face. Then Sans released it. It clattered next to them as he hugged her.
Aliza quietly hugged her father back.
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FanfictionFor years, Aliza has wondered about her real family. Now a clue in an old picture, the only thing left of her mother, finds Aliza climbing Mt. Ebott. In this twisted new world, she finds herself a pawn of a demon.
