The Silver Soul

11

History, history, science, story books, monster anatomy, human anatomy. Nothing here about souls.

I huff in anger. One would think that a library would have a book about a fundamental part of life around here. I've been looking for so long, that the librarians have left for lunch break. Which leaves me alone with the books.

I glance over the books again. I've combed over every single one of them, even hopefully peeking into a few, but none of them have the information I need. How hard would it be to find a book that describes souls?

Apparently, very, as my searches are yielding very poor results.

Incredibly frustrated, I bang my head on one of the bookshelves. Some of the volumes fall out of the second shelf. I groan, dropping to my knees to pick them up to shove them back on the shelf. Thank freaking god that no one's here.

As I arrange the books back on the shelf, I notice something...odd. There are gaps separating pieces of wood. Perfectly straight, they seem to form a square.

A door? I run my fingers over the area of the square, trying to find a handle of some sort. Instead, there's a slight indentation in the wood, one end dropping sharply. I pry the it open, slowly, carefully. It hasn't been opened a lot, as the hinges are stiff. But, eventually, it gives way, revealing...books.

All of them are thick, bound with black leather, their titles stamped on the spines in silver lettering. These books are crammed into a space that's slightly too small for it, but they don't seem to be damaged in any way. I grab one, holding on with my fingernails, and tug. It comes free rather quickly, sending me flying backwards. The other books in the space fall sideways, so I can see their covers.

I stare at the book in my hands. The title reads 'The War of Humans and Monsters'. Below it, in smaller letters, is what I assume to be the author's name.

W.D Gaster.

Huh. I've never heard of a 'W.D Gaster'. Much less, a book that seems to only be about this famous war. I take a glance at the other books.

Magical Energy.

All types of Magic and their uses

How to run the CORE.

A Brief History of the Universe.

A Book of Souls.

I flick through the last one, taking in the coloured images of different souls and the neat blocks of writing. Glancing left and right, I shove it into my bag and zip it up. Then, I place the books by this Gaster guy into the little place I found them, closing the door tightly. I shove the rest of the books in haphazardly, knowing that a librarian would come in and fix the mess later. Then, I sprint out the door.

I check the phone Alphys gave me a week ago. Still a couple hours to kill. Looking around, I decide to go to the skelebros' house, knowing that it's the only place I can go to without getting utterly lost. I trudge through Snowdin, waving at the monsters as I pass.

In no time at all, I've reached the large log house, adorned with fairy lights. Tentatively, I knock on the door. Heavy footsteps approach. That must be Papyrus. Sure enough, the white-and-red clad skeleton towers over me as the door swings open.

"Hi Papyrus."

"GREETINGS HUMAN. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?" he booms.

"I'm doing really great tha-,"

"Papyrus! Have you seen my hand?" a voice interrupts. Sans. Papyrus groans.

"HAVE YOU LOOKED IN YOUR BEDROOM?"

"Yes!" came the reply.

"UGH. EXCUSE ME A MOMENT, WILL. MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE!" Papyrus says. He runs back into the house. I walk in, closing the door behind me, as I take in the flat-screen TV, the ugly green sofa, the rock covered in sprinkles on the dining table. There are stairs on the left side on the living room, which lead to indoor balcony. Two doors stand a couple meters apart. I'm just going to assume that it's their bedrooms.

I plonk myself down on the sofa, and then spring right back up. I seem to have sat on something hard and sharp. I lift the pillow...and promptly drop it as I shoot backwards. "WHAT THE HELL?" I shriek. Because, lying on the green fabric, is a hand. A skeleton hand. Bright white, and dead-looking.

"Oh." I jump again at the sound of a voice behind me. "You've found it. Thanks. You can be real handy at the best of times." Even though my heart is still racing, I giggle.

"Hey Sans. This yours?" I say, pointing to the hand.

"Yeah." Sans picks it up, and attaches it back onto his exposed wrist with a small pop.

"HUMAN. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Papyrus comes down the stairs, staring at me, still on the floor.

"Eh. Don't worry Paps. She found my hand."

"OH DEAR. DID SANS SCARE YOU?" I nod. Papyrus turns to his brother. "SANS! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT LEAVING BODY PARTS ON THE COUCH?"

"Not to do it. Yeah, I know. Anyway kiddo, what brings you here?" Sans asks. He's clearly trying to distract Papyrus, so I go along with him.

"Well, Toriel and Frisk have gone to New Home, and I didn't want to go, so I came here. And I've still got two more hours to kill until they come back. So, I ended up here. And besides, I want to ask Sans something," I say. I don't mention the book, though. Some secrets are best left unknown.

Sans gives me a look. He knows what I'm about to say. I clear my throat. "I've been practising. But I can't get much to happen. All I can do is make some mist appear," I summarise. "Maybe I need to be attacked by a flower again for it to happen. Or maybe, I'm not as special as you think." I'd rather it be the last one.

Sans stares at me. I feel odd, like he's opening a box of secrets within me. "Nah. You've got the magic inside you. I can feel it. And, believe me, it's strong."

Crap.

"WHAT IS THIS TALK OF MAGIC? WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE MY SPECIAL ATTACK? IT'S AS GREAT AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! NYEH HEH HEH!" Papyrus says, grabbing my arm and dragging me, (no exaggeration), outside. He then let's go suddenly, causing me to drop into the snow.

I sit up, brushing the freezing snow from my face. "WATCH THIS, WILL." He then proceeds to raise his arm forcefully. The earth rumbles, and to my utter surprise, bones erupt out of the ground, almost as white as the surrounding snow. My eyes follow the bones and Papyrus' movements.

Something begins to stir in my chest, like a monster awakening from a thousand-year-sleep. It's powerful, and it bangs on my ribs, demanding to be let out. This monster consumes me. My senses are sharper. I can hear the soft pit-pat of footsteps on the snow. I can smell the cinnamon bunnies in the first shop in Snowdin as if they're right under my nose. And this monster has given me a new sight. Everyone looks different. Sans and Papyrus are bathed in an aura of pale, pale blue. If fact, everyone here has some kind of aura surrounding them. Bright orange, leaf green, deep blue, fiery red. All, I realize, different types of magic.

"NYEH HEH HEH! WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THAT, HUMAN?" Papyrus asks, snapping me out of my trance.

My mind and body stay on autopilot until it's time to go, as I think of what had just happened.

Maybe I am special.