Fight: stories of the genocide route

Two strangers; One door

Guess what? I BACK, and ready to write again for my followers!

This story happened a while ago before the events of Flowery language and right after Brotherly Love.

Hope you enjoy!

It's chilly

and it's a long walk.

I flipped my hood over my head.

I dig my hands deep into my jacket pockets

and kept moving.

My slippers sink into the snow

as I walk on the trail

through the woods

for what seems like ages.

I walked over the bridge

only to be greeted by more forest.

"I wonder what we will talk about this time."

I said out loud.

Cluck!

I fell down in pain.

I looked up to find the ruin door inches from my face

with a skull-size dent on the door.

I shrugged and chuckle to myself.

"Hehe, we will have to see."

I put my back to the steel door

and slid to the white ground.

I smirked.

I raised my hand

and knocked.

...

"Oh, you're here early."

"Well, today was moving fast

so I decided to ketchup"

A woman's laughter was heard 

behind me.

Even though I've heard it so many times

it still sounded like it been a millennium 

since she laughed.

"Well, it seems like it didn't affect your puns."

"Nope, knot at all!"

Another laugh,

this one louder than the last one.

"I have never laughed this hard

in a long time."

I smile.

For a while now,

she has been my main audience

for my puns.

I have never seen a person

love my jokes so much until now. 

"Well, leave it to me 

to make a friend have a 

good laugh."

"Thank you..."

"Sans"

"Oh, well, thank you, Sans."

"Your welcome."

I take my hands out of my jacket pockets

and I lay them in the white snow.