Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Forty, Part Three

Laughter fills the room when you open your eyes, the long-awaited shot being aimed at your leg. Pain shoots through you when the adrenaline starts to settle down, eyes looking up at an older man grinning at you. He’s about twice as old as the other man, a smile defining the deep wrinkles on his face.

"Did you really think we'd kill you?" he asks, another laugh mocking you further. "Killing you would be an act of mercy -- You can die of blood loss later, but right now, we need you living. Everyone's waiting for you to show up in your cute little onion suit!"

He places his shoe against your back, the sole making you identify it as the hiking boot used to stop one of the people held hostage until your arrival. You try to get a good look at his face with the possibility of him being one of the masked people, though he prevents that by doing the same as he had done with the bear, pushing you down until your cheek presses against the floor.

“Tie ‘em up,” he demands, directing his words at the younger man still recovering from your punch at his nose. “It’s almost time.”

Refusing to stay still, you attempt to break free from his power over you, the pressure he puts resulting as too much for your weakened state. You aim a kick with your healthy leg despite those drawbacks, the pain that stings your wound slowing you down enough for him to dodge and for another bullet to be shot right at you -- this time at your upper arm. A muffled scream is your only relief from the pain surmounting your body, against giving both men the satisfaction of hearing your scream out loud. 

They both partake in keeping you still this time around, the red-haired woman responsible for poisoning you making her appearance from a corner of the room as she takes on the job of tying you up. A shudder reaches your spine when she wraps her arms around your bare shoulders, snickers, and blows out hot air into your ear. Slowly, she pulls you against her chest as she then lets go and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, using the other to begin wrapping a strong, thick line of rope around them.

“First a kiss and now this, huh?” the younger man’s voice speaks up, teasing remark made stronger by a soft, belly-deep chuckle. “Looks like you guys are taking it fast. Think there’s room for me?”

You feel sick to the stomach when he comments that, the idea of doing anything intimate with either one of the two sending ripples of nausea and disgust in all forms.

“Let’s hope (Y/N) survives this,” she replies, returning his laugh. “It wouldn’t be fun if they’re dead.”

Too distracted by their exchange and weakened by blood loss, you don’t notice when the woman’s done tying you down. You’re pulled off the floor after that, the oldest of the three present laughing when he sees you stumble and fall back to the ground, the same boot pressing down on you again. 

“Put this (lass/fella) to sleep -- We can’t lose ‘em yet.”

Those are the last words you can distinguish as he waits for the other two to take action, the final thing you can feel being a needle pierced close to the wound on your arm, boot keeping you from grasping a look at the substance being injected into your veins.

★

With bloodied bandages wrapped tightly around your injuries, health long-past depleted, and cameras observing you from all directions, your only choice is to comply to the younger man’s primal instructions of following him towards the central room, forced obedience rewarding you with a pair of painkillers and a lukewarm glass of water. 

You’re sitting on a small, worn out couch, not too far from where you gave resistance. The older man is busy putting items inside a first aid kit while the woman leans back against a wall, eyes closed as her arms cross firm over her chest. The younger man waits for you to finish the glass, looking impatient as he then hands you over a pair of glucose tablets.