Armageddon: An Auction Swap Story COMPLETED

Chapter 1

Holy Crap you guys another book off the Auction Swap Story line--i will apologize in advance if you guy think this sucks canned cremed corn--but any who this story is totally gonna fly off the wall of anything you have read for Undertale--it is its own monster ladies and gents... so enjoy this chapter and hopefully the book as a whole. :) leave a comment or vote.

if you haven't read Auction Swap first, this will make no sense...

Ara was patched up...but it did little to deaden the pain. She had been a sobbing mess for days—they were holed up in a dilapidated school. A portion still stood and sheltered them from the pouring rain. A small fire provided some light and warmth to the depressing scene. They were gone—they really were gone. How was that possible? Toriel was with them...she would protect them right? She must have been hurt—or it was all of a sudden and no one could respond to the blasters assault fast enough. That must be it...would it have been different if she had been there?

Her mind was locked with constant questions. She hadn't eaten or drank much in those few days after her sibling's death—or Toriel. Those days were a dark nightmare she couldn't wake from. Ones she could barely remember.

The world had fallen apart—ripped to shreds by Gaster and his dragon-esque monsters—what Sans and Papyrus called Blasters. People were fleeing for their lives, targeted and eradicated by the Blasters doing their master's bidding. Human weapons were powerless—the military it seemed was shooting blanks. Nothing seemed to phase these giant beasts unless another monster was going up against them, and even then that did little. Sans and Papyrus were the only monsters known to Ara at the moment who could transform into these creatures and still be somewhat aware of what they were doing. Well in theory Sans could. He had never transformed willingly in a fight. It was Papyrus who was taking the hits.

There was some unreliable rumors going between human encampments that Gaster had spread to other states—other countries and some of them had used Nuclear weapons against themselves...the implications and ultimate fallout was terrifying. Ara hoped some nights deep down that David, Abagail, and Toriel were truly dead because life was a living hell.

That had been five years ago—the population was down to a third of its original numbers—there were pockets of resistance, people who still fought against Gaster and his monsters...but there were far more who simply gave up and lived what little life they had left. Ara wondered who the real monsters were dealing with the raids, murderers and rapists who dotted the landscape. Sans and Papyrus had never left her side that day she expected them to—that day in the rubble let the Blasters deal with her. But they had gathered her up patched her up and they were surviving....at least she thought.

She was thinking about it. Still haunted about that day as he looked at her hands the scars and missing portions of her fingers made it hard sometimes. Hard to grip, climb, or hold a weapon. She had been frantic that day in the rubble and it cost her some dexterity. Hair messy and overgrown sat in a disheveled braid. She wore a torn and stained black tank, her pants a holey and filthy pair of jeans. Shoes were old chucks well-worn and she was sure to give up the ghost any day now. It was chilly tonight so she had an old army surplus jacket on...kept the rain off her—and kept her hidden, or at least helped.

She looked across the fire to Sans who was watching the fire his one blue eye giving off a vapor—he never seemed to turn his magic "off" it was always burning in his eyes—much like his brothers, his two burned a constant orange fire. Sans wore a heavy scowl like most days—he looked brutish in his fatigue pants and leather jacket. Both were worn. Heavy army issue boots adorned his feet he sported several cracks on his skull. To Ara he looked like he was in constant pain—always on the cusp of losing control.