Mafiatale - An Eye For An Eye (SansxFrisk)

Chapter 4:

*Third POV*

Frisk laid on the bed, (that was kindly provided for her by The Underground) with frustration tensing her bones.

She thought over what had happened,  and tried to make sense of it all.

Not only did she feel foolish about forgetting the knife, she felt even worse when Sans threw her over his shoulder again, and felt it on her thigh.

Of course he spared no time reaching up there and taking it away from her, which not only caused her to blush from embarressment, but to curse at him as well.

After that Gaster tied a blindfold to her eyes and Sans began carrying her off to somewhere unknown.

Papyrus the whole time was asking if this was a part of the game, and if Frisk's struggling was part of the game, or Sans growling was part of the game, and-

Soon Gaster told him to be silent, and he shut up.

Instead of being taken straight to Asgore like she had expected, Frisk was taken into a room that smelt like aging woman's furniture and an old storage room.

When they took off the blindfold, (keeping her hands tied unfortunately) she could see a small room that would have looked normal, if there had at least been a window.

Instead, the walls were made from a red brick that showed no openings for  windows.

In the corner was a small bed (looked almost the size of a child) that was made from a short and stiff wooden table, a thin mattress, and a white sheet. (Pillow included to her relief.)

There was also a small dresser and another door, that Frisk hoped was either a way out, or a bathroom.

When she found out it is a bathroom, she was slightly pleased and grateful, trying not to remember how at Cortex all she had was a metal bucket.

What was strange about the room wasn't that it felt slightly homely, it was the desk against the wall opposite from the door with a small yellow lamp turned on over pencils, and files, a long with a lot of other junk Frisk would expect seeing on an office desk.

Without any explanation or words at all, the skeleton family shut the door then locked it from the outside, keeping poor Frisk trapped in.

Frisk wasn't dumb enough to try the handle after she had just heard it lock, and she also knew that demanding them to let her out would be useless.

Besides, they would need to come in sooner or later to tell her why they had kidnapped her or what was going on.

Or to get her working.

So there she laid on the bed in a cross mood, with her legs scrunched up so they wouldnt fall off the other end; waiting for The Underground to come and explain, or at least give her mind something to work off of.

Even though she was remarkably smart, (and she knew it too), Frisk felt terribly foolish that moment on the bed, her mind swimming in thoughts of Sans, Johnathan, The Underground, Cortex, and Capture.

Too much was going on at once, and too much was trying to make sense, which caused so much stress a headache began to form.

Frisk groaned and held her head as she rolled on her stomach and stretched out her legs, not caring that  her feet were dangling off the other side.

'Maybe some sleep will clear my head in the morning,' except she knew it wouldn't.

And to herself in her head she thought, 'No, sleep doesn't clear thoughts it only shuts them off for long periods of time until it is disturbed or full of enough energy to turn back on. And when they are back on they will all be forgotten yet slowly return. I will be back with the same headache and sleep will do nothing but pass the time and restore my energy.'