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Originally posted in my short stories book, I realized No More was actually going to end up being rather long! So it gets its own book.


Somewhere, sometime, on a grassy hill, a skeleton lies on a blanket. Beside him lies his brother, close enough to feel he warmth of his Magic. They're looking at the stars, spanning the sky in a beautiful array of colors. It's a sight that never could they have imagined from their old home.

Somewhere, sometime else entirely, a skeleton stands in a golden hall. He's alone, his brother long gone, a coldness where there should have been life. He's standing as a last resort, the only thing between an echo of a child and the end of the world. Between them a battle rages, repeating, repeating, repeating again like a broken record. Never has that grassy hill and starry sky seemed so far away.

And still elsewhere, elsewhen, a skeleton lies sleeping, dreaming. Head filled with pictures of things that have already not yet happened. The sunset, painting the horizon red, red as the blood that pools on the floor, mixing with the dust, the dust so thick it could look like the snow, with that ribbon of red through it like the scarf, the scarf that was never left behind, not even in the rush to the above world, the Surface, where dreams, the fragments of images on the fringes of sleep, dreams come true...

It's a beautiful day outside.


Papyrus sat up in bed, instantly awake.

That was how it usually was; he'd always been quick to start in the mornings. Not like Sans, who practically had to be dragged out of bed. Yes, mornings were one of Papyrus's many and widely varied specialties.

But, the problem was, it wasn't morning. Well, it was, technically, but... Papyrus was quite suddenly wide awake at, according to his bedside clock, two AM. He didn't usually get up until six. Which was still four hours away. Which didn't make sense, because Papyrus should have slept rather soundly until then.

Which made his Soul race, because if he was awake now, then something must have woken him up.

And although the Great Papyrus was almost entirely fearless, there were some things that still scared him, and the dark, and the things in the dark, were a part of that very, very small selection.

Because there could be any manner of beasts roaming about in the dark.

There could even be one out there right now, in his house!

The thought made Papyrus shudder a little, in turn making his bones rattle as they knocked together. He sat up, scrunched his knees to his chest, and pulled his blankets up to his chin. He just had to stay here, stay quiet, and he would be safe.

But then an even scarier thought occurred to him.

If there was a beast in his house...

It could hurt Sans!

Papyrus was strong, and for however scared the thought of a faceless, nameless beast scared him, he could stand to take a few hits. Sans, on the other hand, wouldn't survive one, and, more than the dark, that terrified Papyrus.

It terrified him so much that it spurred him into action, despite the dark.

He tossed aside his bedsheets and leaped to his bedroom door. There, he paused. Because-... well...

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