Do You Get It?

The Monster Within

The Destroyer

Fear chokes me up more than the darkness does. When I see the face of that monster, I wish I was blind. Their entire persona is the darkness, omniscient to this whole place. A crazed smile and a cracked face. Two deep scars run down opposite of each eye. If he wasn't melting into the surroundings he almost looked like a skeleton. But staring up  into those hollow sockets made me realize that this is no peaceful monster.

Holes in hands, and curiosity peaked. His drippy form makes its way towards me. I hold my breath and get in a defensive position. "Who are you?" I ask, taking a few steps back. As he approaches I can't do anything but be amazed by the sheer size of this monster. Towering several feet above me, even in the vast darkness, I feel cornered.

"I am the man that speaks in hands." I hold my hands against the sides of my head. The voice of the monster warps through the whole darkness. Even though I could understand him, there seemed to be a heavy accent of sorts. And that accent sounded like scratches down a chalk board.

What does it mean that he 'speaks in hands'? I look up to him, obviously confused. He takes my confusion happily. Changing his path from going strait at me, he starts to slowly walk around. Speak in hands? Could he mean...?

"Are you the one that wrote all those symbols?" I ask, a fear filled hope cracking through my voice. He stops in his tracks and lifts a cracked eye towards me. I take the eerie silence as a yes. I turn around and face his attention. "Then you must have been the monster that made that machine. Were you the former Royal Scientist?" I ask rapidly. I don't know if he can process all my questions, but at this point I don't care. I just want some answers. But all he did was laugh. A painful laugh that vibrates my entire being. I clutch my head and squeezing my eyes shut, I hope that the sound waves stop assaulting me.

And when they do, I open my eyes again.

I am back in the True Lab, the desk lamp now lit and the floors clean of all papers. But the most alarming thing of all is that there is no machine. "Sans, did you bring the blueprints?" The accented voice asks. I whip around to see the monster behind me. The only difference was that he was whole, and not melted into a mass of darkness. Behind him walks in Sans, with a lab coat on. "Sure G, they're right here." Sans says sleepily, handing him the sketches. The same sketches of the machine. The pages are fresh and crisp, not weathered with age like the last time I held them.

I try to step out of their way, but they walk right through me. Alarmed, I say their names hoping that they respond, but they don't hear me. It takes a moment of walking up to them to process what Sans has said. Who is 'G'? He is 'The man who speaks in hands' but that is only a title, not a name. And 'G' is obviously a nickname given by Sans, because when this monster hears the name he cringes just a bit.

He takes the papers and stares down at them. He nods along to what he is reading and I hope that he speaks more about the project that is yet to be built. "Did we get the funding from the King yet?" G asks. Sans looks apprehensive to respond. "Well, he said that he would need an extensive explanation of what we will be doing if he is to back the project." The monster does not looked pleased with Sans' response. He pinches the bridge of hit non existent nose and sighs.

"Tell him we are doing improvements on the core that will help reduce our waste output." He says nonchalantly. Sans looks taken aback and starts to rebuke his bosses command. "We can't do that." He says nervously. "You can and you will. This is a project that could save all of monster kind. We just need to keep it on the down low until it's finished." He says setting the papers on his desk and folding his hands behind his back. His posture demands attention and respect. But Sans still fights. "You can't expect me to lie to the King." He justifies.

This argument only makes the monster more angry. He looks coldly down upon Sans and spits out his next words. "Sans I have trusted you as my assistant. If I can't trust you with this one task, you can always be replaced." He says sternly. His sharp tone and threatening demeanor, shows how important this project is. And how it is vital to keep it secret. All Sans can do is obey.

"Okay, I'll do it...Gaster."

I fall back into the darkness. Opening my eyes for the second time, I see I am back where I was before. Alone with the remaining pieces of a demanding scientist.

His cracked face smiles down upon me. The same cold demeanor is parallel to the Gaster in that vision. That memory. This monster, no....Gaster, just showed me one of his memories. He wanted to show me who he was, and what power he holds.

As the goopy form of the former Royal Scientist  walks towards me, a shiver runs down my spine. I try to stifle my symptoms of fear with a glare of returning evilness. If he made the machine, he must know where we are...where Ink is. And he must have brought us here. But why?

"Where is Ink?" I demand. He cranes his head down at my puny command. I can see how he is humored by my attempt of getting what I want. He knows that with one fell swoop he can consume me in the darkness of this place. If the power radiating off of him isn't proof of what he can do. But what made him this way? As he doesn't respond I know my questions can be answered later. I need to know where my friends are.

"I said, where is he!" I say louder. His silence is the only response he gives me. I clench my fists and wonder what he is thinking. What does he want with me? He lifts his hand up and I take a step back, hoping that he doesn't attack. But instead what he does is much worse.

He angles his hand, to have his palm facing down at me. The gaping holes, a window for me to see the darkness of above. Expecting anything, my body tenses. He is a scientist gone crazy, and if he is a skeleton with any power at all...I should be afraid. Only because I don't know many ways to attack as Ink.

I hold my breath as I see strings materialize above me. They cascade down, white and taught with weight. He is holding something up with those strings. I step back a little, my view planning down those strings. Curious I wonder what they hold. But finally seeing the end of those strings with my own eyes, I shouldn't have been wondering what was hanging. But instead I should have wondered who.

I can feel my jaw hanging down, almost brushing the floor. My eyes the size of the holes in Gaster's hands. Hanging there, looking lifeless, is my promise. My newfound friend and source of hope for a new future. The only person that has offered me help is now at the wrong end of the strings.

Even though I am not the one tied up, I almost feel controlled. Paralyzed, unable to move or say anything. But I have to make sure he's not...dead. I muster my confidence in a few seconds and stare head on to the limp figure.

"Ink..." I shout, holding a hand out. After registering that this...monster, has control of Ink, I try to barrel forward. I try to get to him, but the darkness stands in my way. The black mass runs against me, I feel as if I am running through tar. I shout out Ink's name again, and this time he reacts. With a tug of the strings his head snaps up.

What stares back at me, makes my non existent skin crawl. This can't be happening...empty black sockets stare into my soul. Silence is the only person speaking in the room. And control is the only player.

Ink's demented smile grows on my face. It's weird to see him as me, but seeing him controlled as me...I want to wake up from this demented nightmare. Gaster has moved his first piece, used his first turn.

So I guess he's waiting for me to play mine.