HAZE

THE FALLEN

The howling wind was the first thing Frisk heard upon waking up.

The ground underneath them is metallic, cool; chilling them to the touch. They blink away spots in their vision, but in doing so find themselves submerged in darkness. Still the wind howled, careening them around, around, around.

Where...where am I...?

Groaning, they sat up, rubbing at their head. Their hand came away sticky and warm. Blood...?

Their surroundings were bland and grey, revealing to them a dismal, empty room. It felt fitted to house only them inside, being not much bigger than they were around.

They couldn't remember how they'd gotten there.

Their mind reeled almost as much as their vision did, the child climbing to their feet. They had to duck their head to avoid clipping it on the ceiling.

Frisk grumbled to themselves, patting down their sweater. They sighed. There was only one way they could figure out what was going on, and they didn't really like the sounds of it.

Still, it was worth a shot, they supposed.

I've never seen this before, Chara...have you?

No response.

...Strange.

Frisk fidgeted, looking around at the claustrophobic space. Unease settled on their chest, making it harder to breathe.

...Chara? Are you there?

Their usual, unwelcome companion's voice failed to respond, something that irked them more than being in an unfamiliar place.

"...Chara?" They said, their voice hoarse. "...Hello?"

"...Mom? Dad?"

"Undyne?"

"Alphys?"

"...Anyone?"

They called out their friends names, their voice rising with each one, becoming frantic.

But still, they were met with silence.

They were alone.

Frisk's soul dropped to their shoes. This isn't good...

Their head hurt to the point their vision blurred, their ears pulsing as a hammer pounded on their head. They winced, holding onto it. What's going on? Where is everyone...?

Shing!

"Ghh—"

Frisk crumbled to their knees, arms wrapped around their stomach. Pain shot through them, however brief, a scream on the tip of their tongue as they coughed.

But...there was no blood. No wound.

What—

The pain grew worse, the child crying out as they doubled over. They pounded a fist into the floor, coughing and wheezing, eyes blown wide as they failed to understand what was causing this.

It...It feels kinda like—

Like when I fought Sans...

Shing!

The skeleton brothers. The Doctor.

Their family.

It all rushed back to them, flashing painfully as the pain intensified, growing worse, and worse...and then fading altogether.