So This Is LoVe [Sans x Reader]

Prologue

Note: Stop reading the fanfic for a quick second and listen to me real quick. This story gets dark. Please understand that I am going to depict something in this to the very extreme and "what if" scenarios. I am not just talking about the prologue, I'm talking about this entire story. If you are not in the right mindset to read this book, PLEASE walk away right now and come back at a later time.

No one should ever be caught alone on the streets at night. It didn't matter who you were, or what job you had because it always ended the same. It never really helped that Ebbot city had always looked enticing with its twinkling neon signs and its pretty, dazzling lights.

Let's get one thing straight, it never was a happy place.

Rain pelted on the empty streets, slaughtering the pavement with a hard, uneven rhythm. It was unusually quiet-- given the circumstances that happened beforehand. Water dripped off of gutters and poured into the streets, each droplet mixing in with the color of red.

Dust and bodies of humans and monsters alike were strewn about Saint Claremore St by members of a mafia.

All throughout Ebbot, mobsters had practically popped out overnight around seven years ago. It didn't matter what they fought over, it only mattered if they caused havoc with monsters and humans alike.

Yes, monsters.

They popped out over two years ago, all of them filing out of Mt. Ebbot. When someone had gotten a first glimpse at them, they had said, "they looked like they crawled out of hell with their sharp, knife-like features." For humans, it felt like it was the beginning of Armageddon; for monsters, it felt like a new beginning-- a new chance to start over. Too bad they didn't know what other hell they walked into.

For several months, massacres of humans and monsters popped up over the city, each one more gruesome than the last. The breaking point for each side was when the police wouldn't help either of them. Things blew up overnight after the announcement that the government was unwilling to help. At that point, each human and monster decided that the only way to survive and to gain freedom was to fight for it.

The streets were rampant after that, with each man, woman, and child afraid to go out and grab the simplest things (in fear of getting shot by any mob... or something much worse).

It became an unspoken rule to everybody that if you didn't want to die, you don't go out after dark.

It's a shame that some people can't even follow the simplest rules.

Bodies upon bodies of monsters and humans alike are piled on Saint Claremore St., blood and dust collecting at the bottom of the streets like a disgusting cesspool. In the midst of it all, a red skeleton lay in the middle of the street, his eyes shut tight as he heaved in ragged breaths. His freshly pressed suit, that he bought only hours ago, was now in ruins; there were fresh blood stains and a huge rip from his left shoulder all the way down to his right hip. To his left, someone was shouting his name on his banged-up phone. The only word that the skeleton heard was his name: Sans.

Sans's hand twitched a little as he groaned in pain. After a couple more minutes laying on the ground, only able to twitch his pinkie, both of his eye sockets snapped open. The world around him was disorienting and for a minute, Sans wanted to close them once more but the fear of never opening them again shook him to his very core.

He kept on denying that this was even happening- that this was all just a messed up dream, but deep down he knew that he was dying.

Sans had always dreamed that his death would be like a kiss; sweet and gentle. Maybe he would have grown to be in his later years, dying peacefully in his sleep as his family sat beside him.

... I suppose that's why they're called dreams.

Sans stared up at the sky, his eyes tearing up at the thought of never seeing his loved ones again. Regrets of things that he should have done or things that he could have done popped up like jack-rabbits in his mind. He could have been nicer to the Don and Papyrus-- hell, to anyone that he met on the streets.

But more importantly, he should have confessed his undying love for his Doll.

Sans smiled at the thought of them. They were the light of his life, always guiding him to things that were good and pure (well, as pure as Sans could get).

Another feeling that flashed was anger.

It wasn't fair.

Why did he-- why did paps-- why didn't I say anything to--

But alas, all of his thoughts were washed away from another tidal wave of pain.

Tears dripped down his dusty cheeks, mixing in with blood and soot. If only he could have said it that one night-- granted it felt like a lifetime ago, but he still couldn't stop the emotional torment that collected in his skull. A flash of pain silenced his thoughts as he grunted in agony. The voices on his phone were screaming louder and louder until Sans felt like he couldn't breathe.

He couldn't get this one question off of his chest as another round of pain had started again: "Why were they shouting at him?"

His thoughts started to scatter as he tried to focus on why they were screaming.

Rain pelted his bones and started to collect in his eye sockets, pressure building up in the back of his head. He ran his tongue over his gold tooth, his mouth feeling insanely dry. Red tears wouldn't stop pouring out of his nonexistent tear ducts, mixing in with the water from inside his head as his eyesight became hazy.

So, this is what it feels like to die.