Corrupted Flames (An Undertale Fanfic)

Chapter Two- Mirror

THUD

From the frantic escape of the murderous canine, Sans found himself flying out of his short-cut and body-slamming into the unforgiving floor of Grillby's bar.

The monster slowly picked himself up, his breath heavy from the panic of the attack and the pain from his collarbone. He held himself on his knees and one hand, as the other hand tightly squeezed the fractured bone in an attempt to suffocate the pain.

Sans' eyes quickly snapped around the restaurant, finding it to be empty. Not even Grillby in sight. Confused by the absence of the familiar gang, the skeleton looked behind him, finding that the restaurant was mysteriously closed, despite it usually being opened.

Sans took in a few more shaky breaths, before pushing himself off the ground and into a sitting position. If he indeed was alone, then he could see if he could tend to whatever he could heal of his collarbone. Then let his magic recharge so he could use another shortcut to get himself home.

He looked around, seeing no one. Deciding that he was safe to do whatever, he clumsily stood up, and walked over to one of the booths with a mirror built into the wall. He crawled across the seat so that he was as close to the mirror as he could get.

He winced at his own reflection, forgetting how bad he was starting look from all the resets. Granted, he was never the most attractive monster, but the increasing bags under his eyes and the overall worn look his face had now wasn't helping his case.

He let his masked smile drop knowing no one was around to see him anyway. So why should he keep up the act? No point in acting with no audience to appease.

He looked into his own reflection, as if he was trying to find someone in it. Someone he lost long, long ago. The naive high school graduate who thought he had a whole life ahead of him filled with whatever he wanted to do. Someone who had hopes and dreams. Someone who wanted to make a change. Someone who thought there was still a point in trying.

Where did he go?

He felt his collarbone heat up from the pain again, causing him to tighten his hold on it before letting his head lean against the mirror, the same question repeating itself.

Where did he go?

He shook the thought from his head, pushing himself up from the mirror, hearing the leather cover on the bench squeak from his bones rubbing against it.

Now, he had to see if he could try to fix up his collarbone to the best of his abilities, which weren't a lot to begin with.

He easily slid his baggy hoodie off of him, which made himself look twice as big as he actually was due to it's puffy material. He then tossed the old, worn jacket next to him on the table, hearing a satisfying 'pomf'.

He then began to wriggle himself free of his t-shirt that he wore under his hoodie. It was usually easy to get on, but getting off was another story. He managed to get the material off of his actual body, leaving the wrinkled clothing hanging around his neck.

He frowned at himself in the mirror, muttering, "stupid big head," under his breath.

He tried to lift the shirt above his head, only to find his arms snapping back to his sides from the pain the exploded in his collarbone. He held his breath to avoid making noise until the pain started to die down again.

"o-okay," he said to himself, "that clearly ain't gonna work..." He then looked to the side, before it dawned on him that he had his magic. He rolled his eye-lights at his own forgetfulness before grabbing his shirt with his own magic and stretching in up until it came off his head with a 'pop' causing him to nearly lose his balance.