Video belongs to it's respected owner.
---+---
For the first time in Error's existence, he's been given a gift.
A small brown box sat innocently in the middle of his Anti-void. Temptation was quickly overruling his other emotions. But the Destroyer wasn't ignorant, not in the slightest.
It was a trap, wasn't it?
The thought sadden him but wasn't surprising. He stepped closer, not worried in the slightest. Everyone of Ink's -obvious- attempts at his life has failed in one way or another. Immortality was not an ability to be laughed at.
Error could recall each and every one of his most painful deaths and the even more unpleasant self-resurrections. Most of them either caused by the Creator himself or one of his many failed suicide attempts. He shivered at the memories. The only good thing about death for him is the temporary withdrawal in between. Like being pulled into an warm hug by a mother.
Something about a mother's hug is different from a normal one.
He shook off the thought, he's getting offtrack. Error highly doubts this new "assassination attempt" could even knock him out, you'd be surprised at how high his tolerance for pain is.
With quick movements, he bent down to pick up the light weight. It was about the size of his palm -maybe smaller- made out of flimsy cardboard. Gently shaking it, his non-existent ears caught the light tapping of something hitting the sides of the box. His brow rose. What could it be?
Shaking the box again. He felt like a child on Christmas. A child, playfully guessing what their gift could be, that could lead to their suspected demise.
With that, the Destroyer pulled of the lid. He braced himself, quickly dropping the light weight, it landing with barely any sound.
He waited...
Nothing...?
Nothing popped out at him, no explosions or toxic clouds of -deceptively- colorful mist.
Lowing his hands and undoing his stance , he leaned forward to peer down into the seemingly empty box. Is this some kind of joke? Did someone just leave their trash in his home to mess with him? He slapped his forehead with a groan. He felt so stupid.
Once again, he bent down to pick up the box, ignoring the familiar groans of pain his body released. Turning the box over his hand, he watched with interest as a small object fell out.
A light gray in color, with lines of brown and yellow traveling from top to bottom. Using his other hand he started to nudge the small thing around his palm, a child like curiosity swirling in his sockets.
A seed?
--=--
One month later, since then, Error had decided to try and grow the seedling.
"I got into another fight with Nightmare." There was no response, but Error didn't mind. He glanced down at the potted sapling. Pride swelled in his mangled soul as a small smile escaped. He never thought he could get it to grow. Him, the Destroyer, grew a plant.
To others it might not be much of an accomplishment. But to him, it was everything.
His smile never faded. Lifting the red pot from his lap, he got a better look at his sapling. The sight only widened the smile ever more. "You're already so big. I might have to get you a bigger pot." He chuckled.
The sapling was only the size of his forearm, but it was still an achievement. Error set the potted plant down in front of him, retreating his watering can from his side. "I heard that talking to plants can help them grow." Fresh water poured out, soaking the the dirt. "But that's kinda what I've been doing this whole time and now you're almost reaching my knee." He placed the can down with a chuckle. "You must really like the sound of my voice... that's a surprise." Averting his gaze, he sighed before turning back.
YOU ARE READING
Garden Of Stories
FanfictionError finds a new hobby. --------------- Undertale belongs to Toby Fox Fgod concept belongs to Harrish6 Error and all the other characters/Au's belong to their respected owners I own the plot and plants!