Felt It In My Bones (Gaster!Sans X Reader)

•Chapter 8• "You Should Have Just Moved On."

"Frisk?" You comically laugh, "no way! They're not like that."

"Fine, believe what you want, but it's the truth." G spoke, averting his eyes to the door. "But, I'm getting my revenge."

"No!" You croak. "Don't hurt Frisk! Please, I'm begging you."

"Cute," G smirks. "I'm not going to let this opportunity pass. Thank you for helping me find Frisk, but I am no longer in need of your service. Nice meeting you, Y/N, but this is where our paths part."

"What? No!" You cry sorrowfully, but G had already left by then.

The thought of Frisk dead weakened you. You lead him to Frisk, you're the reason Frisk'll die. It's your fault.

"G!" You tear up hoping he'll hear you. But he doesn't. No response what so ever. Nothing. Nada. "G, please!" You try once more, but it resulted the exact same. G was gone.

Standing up was impossible, your head was pounding from the medication he must have given you. Your stomach was bandaged, and just speaking was complete and pure agony. He left you like this...completely helpless.

Where were you even? It was a house, but whos? To your left was a destroyed old couch, to the right was a scratched up television. Just a normal living room. Were you in his house? You peered around and looked at the holes in the wall, and the old peeled wallpaper. A shattered picture frame was lying on the floor, it had yet another skeleton on it.

Is that his brother? You wondered to yourself. The one that died?

Upwards was a staircase and two doors. One with a lock, the other scratched and beaten up. Being curious, you betrayed yourself by jumping to your feet. The tear in your intestine stretched and it created an agonizing feeling. You had vertigo from the headache, but stood tall. You were determined to get into those rooms.

You quickly dashed upstairs to the first room. Your stomach twisted in fear...or your stomach reopened the wound from the knife. Either way, it created a deadly feeling. This didn't stop you, however. Likewise, you kept going, even though the pain was unimaginably brutal.

"A-Agh," you whimpered as you twisted the knob to open the non-locked door.

You peered into the somewhat dark room, the only light was from outside. Inside was a completely trashed room. It had a wrinkled race car bed with destroyed sheets. The wallpaper was ripped, and what seemed to be once a poster was torn and mangled.

Papers were scattered, and the computer had a punctured hole in the middle. The room was completely trashed, and spiders hung from the celling and webs strung along the desk.

You stepped back out and went to the next room. This one was locked tightly, I'd be dumb to forcefully rip it off. You'd only hurt yourself.

Instead, you left it alone. It had to be his brother's room, right? Why else would it be locked. G didn't seem like the type of dude to have a race car bed, does that mean that's his room? The tension tightened, you wanted to open it, but you couldn't.

You realized that you couldn't do any of this. You couldn't save Frisk, you couldn't help G, you couldn't save the underground, you couldn't even open a door. How were you going to stop G if you can't even walk anymore?
You should have just moved on.