HAZE

DO YOU REMEMBER?

Darkness consumed him. He saw nothing; his ears ringing, mind lagging behind, trying to comprehend what was going on and where he was. He didn't know. He couldn't tell.

He found himself unable to move. Hovering in the inky black, utterly stuck, all he could do was listen, with his sight completely blocked out by nothingness.

"Wingdings!"

His name. Someone's voice—they sounded familiar, though he couldn't place a name to them.

Ghostly hands gripped his shoulders, and Wingdings felt them shake him, felt them pull tighter and tighter on his sweater, but he couldn't move. His leg felt odd. Why was it tingling?

"Wingdings, wake up! He won't wake up—is Aster okay?"

"He's not responding either." Another voice joined the second, unrecognizable. He barely registered the words.

Aster? That name...

No, that's right—Aster's his brother. Small, fragile.

Scared.

What's wrong with Aster?

His leg felt like it was on fire.

"Toriel, what's wrong with them?" The first voice asked, shaking. Wingdings's breathing quickened, mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

I'm fine, he wanted to say. I'm right here—I'm fine! Quit talking about me like I'm not here!

"I don't know," another voice—Toriel, he guessed—spoke. Large hands lifted him, pulling him higher and higher in the dark. "They need medical attention. They've been hurt."

Hurt...?

His head throbbed. His leg pulsed. But why—

A child holding a knife.

Odd faces, faceless static, chasing him and pulling him to the ground.

The lab.

The skeletons.

Dings choked, coughing. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "As...Aster..."

"Did he just speak—"

"He's alive! He's okay!"

"Frisk, child, calm down—"

"As...ter...he...hel..."

His mouth filled with tar. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

His hands flew up to his neck, grabbing something soft.

A scarf.

"...P...Pap...y..."

"Papyrus?"

"He knows where Papyrus is?"

"Wingdings, stay with us—what happened? Who did this? Where is Papyrus?"

The voices surrounding him began to fade, drifting away.

Wingdings began to sink, the darkness closing in.

"Wing...whe...he...som..."

The substance surrounding him clawed its way into his mouth, his ears, his nose. He choked and coughed, trying to hack it back up, but failed, only making the situation worse by panicking. The void matter clouded up his mind, shoving its way down his throat, searching, reaching for his soul—