Homey

One: Determination

a/n: finally, after i don't even know how long, the first chapter's rewrite is out! i plan to become more active and start getting these rewrites out. you will be able to tell if a chapter is rewritten in the titles. if it is under-cased it has not been rewritten. if it is capitalized it has been rewritten.

i would also like to take this moment to let you all read the trigger warnings, as in this rewritten version, there are many more triggers than before. 

Trigger Warnings: Depersonalization, derealization, depression, intrusive thoughts, manipulation, anxiety attacks, anxiety, self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of suicide, (descriptive) gore, torture, and death.

----- 

The air was suffocating, thin and sparse. It was cold and uninviting. The forest was too quiet for any normal day. The fresh snow covered up the gruesome scene that lingered before, only a sprinkle of footsteps trailing away hinted at anything sinister. 

Near the edge of the woods, a figure leaned against the raw bark of an overgrown tree, resting. His chest rose and fell steadily. He tried concentrating on his own breathing. However, with the sky shrowded with snow, he struggled to get a proper breath and felt lightheaded. He shivered. 

"How long have I been here now?" He mumbled to himself, pulling on his hair to assure himself he was very conscious. The village looked like a barren ghost town. There were no people anywhere. No one was alive but himself. 

"I did it" he gasped, realization hitting him across the face with its cruel and cold hand. 

Looking around him frantically, he grabbed his knife. It was a simple blade, smooth stainless steel. It was his go-to weapon. He had always felt a special connection to the weapon beyond a tool to be plunged into those who wronged him. It felt as though the handle was built for him and the blade resonated with his heart. He beamed at his weapon, he was grateful to see it intact beside him. 

Suddenly, he stumbled back as a wave of emotions drowned him. All he heard was chaotic laughter, it was distorted and inhuman. The setting sun alone sent his mind into a flurry, yet the disturbingly familiar images that flew past him felt dangerous, even with the knowledge they were simply memories. Green and yellow started to flood his vision. The sparkle of a heart-shaped golden locket. Grey floating away from him. Salty liquid staining his face.

Leaning back against the tree for support, he took in all this information.

Then, it sparked.

He had killed everyone. The echo of her psychotic laughter reverberated painfully in his mind and seemed to grow louder the more he tried to think of something else. Pulling his hair and clenching his eyes shut in pain, he relived the moment he killed his brother. Papyrus's sad smile and tear-filled golden eyes, ruffled copper-toned hair, and the knife that was stuck in his chest. Oh, his poor brother. He had killed him.

"What-?" he stuttered. Releasing his death grip on the tree, he took a step forward. Oh, that falling snow wasn't snow. It was dust. It was everywhere. Suddenly, he found it very hard to breathe. Not because of the dust, but because of the uncontrollable tears that filled down his face. Tasting his own tears, he stumbled back. 

Everything hurt so much. The pain in his soul hurt more than he could comprehend. It felt like lava being poured into his chest, yet his mind kept him awake as to make him pay for his sins. 

A loud sound snapped him out of his thoughts. He recognized the sound instantly as the noise made when teleporting. Stumbling, he ran towards the sound. Grasping his chest, under his soul, he could not deny his panic. Yet, he could not explain why he was running towards the strange sound when everyone was supposed to the dead. Perhaps he wanted someone to assure him it was all a dream.