Dr. Alphys sat in her tiny room, taking her fourth shot of Fire Whiskey in the past ten minutes . It was a new type of alcoholic drink Grillby started producing and selling by the bottle shortly after he began selling human liquid in his HOTLAND bar. Alphys imagined that that disgusting pig didn't really "create" this special brand drink. He probably just regurgitated a human drink, and called it his own by adding the word "fire" at the beginning. Regardless the drink was fairly popular among the wealthy monsters of HOTLAND but Alphys couldn't have cared less about the name brand or about how it was created. She liked it because it burned painfully as it went down her throat and got her relaxed more quickly than any other brand did.
Taking a deep breath, Alphys put the bottle away and stumbled off her bed and to her record player, knocking over one of the dozens of book piles that covered her floor. She grabbed a random record, jerkily put it in the player and blared the music as loud as she could, knowing the sound would be muffled a great deal before it reached the upstairs.
With a groan, she stumbled to the door located at the very back of her room and flung it open, keeping it open to allow the loud music to flow through the room.
The room once resembled a hospital room, but after everything she did to and for that ...that little beast, it looked more like a small garden that got way out of control. Thick green vines had pushed themselves out of the once white walls and covered almost every inch of the room, some of them even sprouting those horrible Golden Flowers. As she walked deeper into the room, she nearly tripped over the smaller thin vines that were growing out of the tiles of the floor, but even as drunk as she was, she was still able to navigate herself to her operating table where that beautiful yellow SOUL was, along with a box of gloves and a clear IV tube.
She stared numbly at it. How many times had she performed this procedure. Five or six times? She couldn't remember in her drunken state, but even if it were just one time, that would have been one time too many. Luckily boozed helped Booze made it not so bad. Booze helped control her breathing. Booze steadied her hands during the operation and booze made the beautiful SOUL inside the glass jar not look so alive anymore.
Would anybody believe a doctor performed an operation better piss drunk than stone cold sober? If somebody were to ask that question ten years ago to Dr. Alphys, she would have looked at them in disbelief. Nowadays, if somebody asked her that, she would simply shrug and say "bottoms up."
Of course if Don Dreemurr saw her in this condition right before operating, he would no doubt bring his wrath upon her, but she was safe. He never came down unless that beast was conscious. The same could be said for his crazy wife. Apparently they couldn't stand to see him weak and unresponsive. So they didn't.
Concentrating on the music, Alphys grabbed a pair of gloves and the jar, ignoring the small vibrations the SOUL was giving off from within and walked to her patient's bed where the plants had first begun to grow all those years ago.
Still unconscious but very much alive, the patient's entire body was covered all the way up to his chin with both a white comforter and Golden Flowers that had grown there since the last time he was conscious. Nearly two months ago.
Right beside the bed was a metal stand and an empty but new IV bag.
Her scaly hand wasn't trembling as she put on a pair of white latex gloves. She'd learned her lesson that first time. If you touch a human SOUL without gloves, you see things you can't unsee, and you get nightmares that won't stop. She opened the jar and pulled the SOUL out, quickly opening the IV bag at top, placing the SOUL inside and quickly sealing it back up.
Okay, the easy part was done with. Concentrating on the loud music with all her might, Alphys stumbled back to the operating table and grabbed the clear and hollow IV tube, the only difference between this one and a regular one was there were needles on both ends.
YOU ARE READING
Sooner or Later You're Gonna be Mine
FanfictionFrisk sang for a living. She sang in clubs that were populated by mobsters, murderers and the most violent criminals her city had to offer. She honestly thought things couldn't get any worse until corruption in the form of a grinning skeleton came s...