Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

Lost Mind

Horror cocked his skull at the cliff, right hand holding Axella as his left clung to his hole. He considered his options. If he'd heard of this celebration sooner he'd be more appreciative. He was hungry.

He glanced at the forest behind him. Hungry. He could take a break; have a snack. So many animals thrived in these woods. Papy would love it here, too. Papyrus preferred plantie foods to meat. Less pain. Brother always preferred less pain.
He couldn't do that.

The blood gushing from the wounds, the metallic taste reaching him, so strong the scent he could taste it. The hot, steaming raw flesh that pulsed and tensed beneath his teeth, satisfying his burning hunger as he bloodied his clothes, burying his skull in the animal's stomach-
enough of that.
Some part of him was wrong. He couldn't survive on plants. His Soul needed blood, needed flesh.

He always felt guilty. Seeing the eyes of his victims, the soft brown ones of a doe that wasn't fast enough, the red of a sickly monster that couldn't outrun his bloodlust, the blue or green eyes of a human that thought they could attack him because he was injured. How scared they were… or how accepting. He would join them in death whenever he could. He was a creature of death. His very face was death to them. So he chose it for himself. Wanted them to become him in dying. Like he was carrying all those lost Souls within his own, broken, ruined one.

He'd been standing there for five minutes. What was he doing again? Something. Staring at this cliff. Nice cliff. Looks fun to climb. Why was he here?
Blood-Oath! He was here for Blood-Oath.
… What was that again?

He gripped his hole painfully, trying to remember. That damn hole. Damn fish. Damn spears. Damn human. Damn everything. Damn Alagaësia. Why was he damning everything? He forgot. Damnit.

He could smell a pig nearby. He heard it snuffling in the undergrowth. Hungry. He turned to look at it, a wild boar at the edge of the clearing. It didn't notice him.
Hungry.
Something that eliminates all morality is true hunger. One taste and you're never the same. After the extended contact with it, when his mind was broken, Togira, cripple, he wasn't…
He just wasn't.

He wanted to think.
Once, he was the second smartest monster in the Underground, second to only his own father. Then he was the only genius. But he wasn't his father, no.
Never good enough to replace him.
He couldn't bear to be in the same halls his father walked before he was forgotten.
He left.
He tried to get his father back.
He wasn't enough.
He tried to protect his brother.
Frisk came and went.
He wasn't enough.

He tried to fix the Core his dad built, with only Undyne barking up his spine as he tried. Tried so hard. Everything he could. He wasn't his father. Not good enough.
Fuck everything, she tried to kill him.

But he wasn't enough for even that.
He couldn't even die as he should.

He couldn't remember.
He couldn't… think.
Why why why why why why why why.
He doesn't know.
He isn't enough.
He doesn't deserve to know.
He will never be enough.

Why was he standing here again? He was here for something. He was staring at this cliff. Nice cliff. Looks fun to climb. Why was he here?
Blood-Oath.
...
He felt like he'd been through this thought process before.

Horror blinked, turning to the boar. Maybe he'd remember if he killed it.
Who was he kidding, he probably wouldn't.
But food was food.
He spun Axella in a circle, the blade humming as though she hungered for blood as he did flesh.

…

(Severe gore warning)

The boar screamed, writhing as the leaves around it became splattered with blood. His aim was true when he threw the axe; she had torn straight through it's middle and pinned it to the tree on the other side.