Undertale Scenarios

Epilogue

Outer World:

You were a child - or, a young adult, perhaps. You were haunted by your parent's constant arguing. You felt there was no escape, no matter what you did. Nothing ever worked. There was only hate in your world, no love. You were never loved.

Not until January 18, 2016.

September 15, 2015 was the day Undertale was released. What made you buy it? This world may never know. There was just an itch. No simple scratch could ease it. You had to have that game. It had to be played by your hands. You had to be a part of the story.

Over the months, you played. And you played. And you played. And you played. Until, what more was there to be found anymore? You had found the lost child, the secret door, the hidden rooms, the man that spoke in hands. You had loved everyone. You had loved everyone. Then, you had loved most, while you picked one to love particularly. You felt bad for loving them in such a way. You felt bad for loving them all. But you just had to know.

You had to keep playing to escape.

In order to make up for all the love, and to find a new escape, you picked up paper and a pencil. The screams outside the walls were a nice white noise. You began to write.

But how could you write about love, if you had never been loved?

It was something you learned along the way. Is it so silly to say a game taught you how to love? Is it so silly when there was no other source from which to learn? Do we really learn love, or is it instinct?

Perhaps those are questions for a different time. There are many different times.

Under Under World:

You were not the savior of this timeline. But once...

You had known an awful child. Once, they weren't quite so awful, you thought.

Because when they went missing, you felt empty.

You had never been loved by anyone, except that awful child. That awful child had been your only friend. Your best friend. The town went into panic, searching the forests, the hills, the bottoms of lakes. But they never searched that mountain. You knew, in your soul, that's where they were. It's almost as if they were beckoning you.

The townspeople spoke such ugly words about the ones who lived in that mountain. Who lived under your world. You were so young. How were you supposed to believe anything besides what they told you? You believed all monsters were monsters. You never believed you were a monster.

You were so young. But you set out, one night, to that mountain. You had nothing except your winter jacket with a knife tucked in one of the pockets. You knew what you had to do.

You had to find that awful child. It was all your soul cried for. That awful child.

And when you found the dark abyss, you were shivering. You convinced yourself it was just the cold. You fell.

You remember the first one you killed. It was a monster. It was a woman. Her ashes spread at your feet like a new welcome mat. You opened the doors, tucking your knife away.

When he shook your hand, you saw the empty stare. He knew. The grey on your palms was not the remnants of clay or dirt. He warned you, then. You did not heed his warning. Monsters were not worthy of being listened to. Their threats meant nothing.

The next was another monster. It was a boy. Or...? No. It was a monster. It was a skeleton. It was not a boy.

Why did he tell you that you could do better? Why did he... No. It was a monster. Monsters were not worthy of being listened to.

The next was a monster. She was... It was so determined. It was too determined. It melted out of existence. You watched its goop seep through the spaces between the bridge's panels.

The next was a robot. They were so easy. Destroyed in an instant. It made you feel guil... It made you feel powerful. Unstoppable.

The next. Was not so easy. Why wasn't it easy? You had taken everything from him. Why wasn't it easy? Why wouldn't he just give up? If they all had just given up, you swear you would've stopped. If they just let you past, if they just let you walk. You wouldn't have caused any trouble. You just wanted to find that awful child.

The ashes were becoming slimy globs of grey in your sweaty palms. Your grip on the knife was slipping. Why wasn't it easy? You were not meant for this. Your soul began to crack. Why wasn't it easy? That awful child. Did they really need to be found?

When he closed his eyes to sleep, you hesitated. Would he forgive you if you just dropped the knife? Would he let you past if you told him what his brother had told you?

Still. I believe in you. You can do a little better. Even if you don't think so. I promise.

But that awful child. It beckoned you. You raised your hand. You swung. Why did he bleed red?

There was no next. At the throne you found that awful child. They complimented you for your handiwork. They were pleased that they didn't have to do it all by themselves.

You were not pleased. You were tired. You were guilty. The awful child sitting on the throne did not feel like your friend.

That is when they walked up to you, taking the knife from your hand. It felt like a shackle had been broken. With a gentle touch, they grasped your hands, wiping your dirty palms on their sweater. It was as if they wanted to take the blame.

You thought they wanted to lift the guilt from your shoulders.

They hugged you. Your arms hung heavy at your sides. Then, all at once, there was a sharp pain in your back. At once, your broken soul was taken from your body, placed in their hands.

They thanked you for your participation, they now had all the power they needed.

That awful child.

You slept peacefully in the soft flowers. You never woke again.

Under World:

You knew all along, didn't you? You knew who you were, what you had done. But you told yourself that was a different time. There are many different times. This time, you would make it up to them.

The hard one knew. The flower knew. The broken one knew. The awful child knew.

Why did you never apologize? Maybe it was because you wanted to pretend that you didn't remember. Maybe it was because you didn't know the right words to say.

You wanted this time to be different. It was.

Outer World:

Finally. You had the money. You had the apartment. Yours. All yours, without screams.

A silent place to spend your days. To create a new life.

With a new life, you would not need an escape. So you packed away your papers, you shut down your computer. You said goodbye to all of those you had loved. To all those that had loved you.

??? World:

You wanted this time to be different. It was.

Until it wasn't.

They couldn't bear to be without you. How could you have just left the one you loved in that stack of papers in your closet? How could you just leave them in a discarded program on your computer?

They had loved you. They were real. And they came for you.

Somehow, they made you come for them too.

You awoke in an unfamiliar world, so did they. You met them in an unfamiliar living room, where you exchanged sorrowful greetings and hugs. All seemed fine.

Until it wasn't.

That awful child.