Welcome Home, Serial Killer

Chapter 5 - Explanation

An exchange, then. Smile Dog gives him the information, Sans eats something. Why did -

Oh, right. To stay healthy, he guessed. He did save Smile Dog from being put down, so it would make sense for him to try and save Sans from the downhill slope he was frantically tumbling down.

"How do you know I really want to know?" Sans asked quietly.

"It's part of his powers. He enhances curiosity."

And that's how Sans ended up within the kitchen, no fuss as he silently pulled out old ordered food he got mainly for Smile Dog. Chicken, to be specific. Simply smelling it made him want to gag, but he persisted, filling a plate for Smile Dog and a smaller portion for himself.

"So what is... what is going on? Why are the murders happening? Why did he..." Sans blinked away the girls smiling face from his mind and forced a small piece of bland chicken into his mouth. Just tasting something, after so long to nothing, was a sudden jolt in his senses. How long has it been since he's eaten something?

Smile Dog lifted his head from the plate of food, licking his snout. "I'll start at the backstory. You are aware of how monsters and humans coexist, correct?"

Silence, then a subtle nod. Sans wasn't sure where this was going in the slightest.

"Well, let's say that there's... someone who changes, per say. Someone who became so separated from their species that they could no longer be called that. You understand the human that released you, correct? They no longer fit with humans, and although they look like a human, they are now grouped with monsters."

"Uh, yeah. I guess."

"Let's say there was a soul who didn't - well, they were outcast from the human group. And could not join the monster group." Smile Dog finished his meal quickly. "Or a soul that could simply never fit with the others in the first place. These are souls that don't conform to science, or the laws of nature. Humans with magic that shouldn't have it, creatures with abilities far past that of a monster. Children that simply cannot die."

Sans snorted at the last point. Yeah. he knew that part quite well.

Maybe if the girl...

Blue eyes staring at him before the smile was abruptly torn away, blood splattering from her mouth -

Sans blinked, finding Smile Dog suddenly staring at him. His chest felt tight, suffocating.

"You can - um, continue," Sans said quietly.

After a moment, Smile Dog sighed. "You really need to... nevermind. It probably wouldn't work right now."

Sans took another slow, almost empty bite of his food. It was difficult to eat after so long of not eating. Having something in his mouth almost felt wrong. As if eating would make him terribly sick.

"We're called Creepypasta."

He lifted his head. Creepy... what?

"We?" He found himself questioning.

"I am one, too. I'm a Creepypasta," Smile Dog said, "We're people, ghosts, creatures who don't belong with the population. Kicked out, discarded, we don't belong anywhere. We can do things that others can't do, shouldn't be able to do. We are known from horror stories online. That's why we're called that, because we're just horror stories. Serial killers. Murderers. And it explains why I know about the man you saw. He's a Creepypasta as well."

Oh. Oh.

Sans felt...

He squeezed his hands. Still there. Still in the present. Still -

"Are you fine with that?" Smile Dog asked.

Funny question. He wasn't sure. Sans wasn't sure of anything, really. There should be some hint of emotion or reaction from being told his newly adopted dog that he let into his house was a serial killer. But nothing. Sans just felt kind of empty with that knowledge. Like it didn't mean anything.

"I guess," Sans said.

Why wasn't he freaking out? The talking dog just told him he was a murderer! A glitch in the world! Why did Sans feel so weirdly calm? Sure, he didn't mind killers too much, hell, he was definitely in no place to judge, but still.

"I'm not scared." Sans leaned forward onto his elbows. "Not scared at all. Is that weird? I should be, right?"

"You should be, if you were under normal circumstances. But these simply are not normal, we can both agree to that."

That's right. This wasn't normal. Sans felt safe inside. Even though a dog just admitted to being a Creepypasta, his soul didn't budge. It didn't feel the danger inside.

The danger was outside.

~~~~~~

Some progress. Not much, but some.

The mutt stared at the skeletons plate as he shuffled towards the sink. Still with that unwashed, almost pale blanket draped across his shoulders in a form of defense. Like the shell of a turtle.

He ate more than expected. Sans didn't even realize he ate almost half of a full meal, when he clearly intended to take just a bite. That was some progress.

Smile Dog would admit his intentions to anyone but the skeleton. He was going to help. Help Sans get better, simply because Sans reached out a hand for him. It sounded rather lacking in motivation, but would anyone realize just how much it meant for someone normal, like Sans, to help a Creepypasta? Creepypasta helped Creepypasta, humans helped humans, and monsters helped monsters. Not many crossed lines between monsters and humans, and no one certainly crossed with the Creepypasta. Yet Sans decided to sprint across without any care.

So Smile Dog will repay that favor. He knew how Slenderman's little power worked, and he knew how to reverse it. Therapy would help a little, but unless he managed to figure out if Sans was actually being stalked or not, it'd be best to put that off. Tim tried to do therapy while being prey and everyone knew how that turned out, huh?

The best thing to do was to help would be getting Sans onto a better path if he wasn't being stalked. If he was, well...

That'd be more difficult.

Sans, of course, was a mess from Slenderman's effects. Combine that with the murder, and you got... this. A man who couldn't work, sleep, eat, or even look out of a window.

Smile Dog just spent the rest of the day helping Sans. They went to bed early, and he plopped himself down right onto Sans' chest so he couldn't argue and had to sleep. Seemed like physical contact helped.

In the middle of the night, when he was startled awake by the second nightmare, he stole a glance down at his new roommate.

"Why are you helping me?" Sans asked quietly. "It's not just because I helped you, is it?"

Huh, look at that. Dude was smart. Smart when he wasn't paranoid about his safety.

"Us Creepypasta... most of us turned this way because we had no one to turn to. What you're doing right now reminds me of a few people who can't turn back, what happened to them before they became what I am. I guess I just don't want to see another person go down that path."

"Heh." Sans offered one slow, almost empty chuckle before he closed his eye sockets.