interitus×decay

3: Quarantine

    The house was quiet when Frisk awoke. Being underground, they had no way of telling whether it was night or day, so they just assumed they'd slept through the night, and that it was now morning. Knowing it was likely earlier than Toriel was used to waking, they started to rummage through their stack of books before noticing a plate of pie in the floor near their feet. They gratefully took the fork and ate it in heaps. Still warm, it tasted like butterscotch and cinnamon (they knew because they'd once eaten a handful of both stored away in an old bakery, just to try it,) and it melted in their mouth. They could get used to this.

    They read a picture book about a fluffy bunny while they ate, which was apparently the fifth rendition to the series. Frisk didn't know who half the characters were, but they enjoyed it nonetheless. After they finished eating, they sat their plate down on the bed and began to look around. Old pictures of buttercups were hung on the walls, all perfectly aligned and dusted clean of any dirt or grime that could possibly be there. The toys looked especially old, and worn - one teddy goat was missing an eye, a yellow button sloppily sewn on in replacement to the black bead on the other side. Other than stuffed animals and a bed, all that was left in the room was a small nightstand (occupying only another picture of a flower and a lamp) and a closet that Frisk was quick to investigate. They flung the doors open, revealing nothing but empty flower pots and some old clothes. How boring. They rummaged through the closet, though, finding nothing of interest besides a hooded parka, which they took out to inspect. It was purple with blue and white tassels at the bottom, and on the front was a symbol that Frisk didn't recognize. It looked handmade. They took it, however, folding it neatly and putting it in their bag. Left with nothing else to do, they picked up their book from last night, flipping through it as they walked through the house. Toriel was nowhere to be found, but was likely awake, judging by the pie. Remembering where her room was located, they went to check on her. Faintly, from the inside of her room, they heard crying. Frisk knocked.
    The woman immediately dried her eyes, and fumbled to reach the door.
    "Good morning, child! My apologies, I wasn't there when you woke up-" she paused at the concerned look on the child's face, and sighed, "you could hear me, couldn't you?"
    The child nodded. She sighed again.
    "Stars, I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean to worry you... an old woman like me just can't help it, you know, when you've been alone for as long as I have." She allowed the child in the room and sat on her bed, seeming tired. "I haven't slept a bit all night."
    Frisk gave a look of worry and pressed the book in their arms further into their chest. A spark of determination in their narrow, coal black eyes, they held up the book in front of them. The goat woman smiled.
    "You want to read me a story?"
    They nodded.
    "My child," she laughed, a paw over her heart, "you are very sweet. You know, that was my son's favorite one."
    They ran a tan finger gently over the gold-engraved writing on the leather cover, noticing a scratch over the letter 'o' in 'monsters.'
    "My son was my pride and joy. You would've liked him, child." The mother spoke with nothing but fondness in her voice. Toriel adored her son, it wasn't hard to tell. She expressed nothing but love and admiration at the idea of her lovely son, she could go on for hours about her dear Asriel.
    "What I wouldn't do to tell him I love him, to hold him in my arms again..."
    Frisk, while still cautious, dared ask what happened to him.
    "Indeed, I haven't explained that much, have I...?"

    "I suppose I should start from the beginning. Back when the humans had just won the war, we were sent here, to the Underground, to live for the rest of our lives. My ex-husband, king Asgore, and I weren't able to do much about it, so we built our kingdom here, and tried to continue on with our lives. We were blessed with our only son, Asriel, and thus we became the royal family. After a few years underground, a human child fell down, much like you, and we took them in and raised them as our own. You remind me a lot of them, child." Toriel smiled, prompting Frisk to grin and kick a foot.
    She continued, gravely.
    "But... soon, they fell ill. We hadn't the slightest idea what caused it, but whatever it was, it had caused them to be violently sick. Not even a day after, Asriel contracted the same illness. And, eventually, after a few weeks, my husband and I lost both our children in the same afternoon, and with them died all of my soul."