I'm not one of you <Frans>

CHAPTER 29: One house. One skeleton

Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown
I thought for sure that skeleton would have killed me once I had finally closed my eyes to rest for a while. I had grown so tired in the snow within those thirty minutes... I need to get stronger.

Opening my eyes, I looked up at the strange ceiling with zig-zag patterns of orange and blue; it seemed like they were dancing across their coordinated axes. I didn't know where I was. It didn't look familiar to any building that I knew. I blinked a few times, holding my pounding head, still aching from the previous few days of sleeping inside that horrid shed. I quickly noticed the dark blue blanket that had fallen off of my shoulders.

The green couch I had been laying on was pretty uncomfortable, in my opinion. It was cheap and old. The springs were poking at my sides like the couch had been worn down and sat in a lot. Which isn't surprising, for a couch. I looked around, feeling the old blanket, like it hadn't been used in years. The house was simple, but the color scheme was all out of wack. Nothing seems to match in the house. Nothing was coordinated, but the zig-zags that still continued to move across the ceiling. They hurt my eyes just looking at them.

I was helpless, and my stomach growled loudly after so long without food. The rumbling of my hunger seems to shake the empty house, and it echoes throughout the place like empty corridors. Or maybe it was because it was so eerily silent like the rest of the place?

That skeleton...

That skeleton was trouble. There was no doubt about that. Could he have brought me here after realizing his mistake? It's obvious that he had thought I had been Chara all of this time. What did Chara do to gain such an enemy?

His purple eyes were burned into my retinas. A look I could never forget, and it was just as permanent as that smile of his that he always wore when thinking about nothing in particular. Who was he? He didn't give me any information, except for showing signs of insanity. He could be unstable.

"I see the little Girle is awake!" A familiar voice rang through the house, and I quickly whipped my head in the direction of the known sound. There in the kitchen, where the carpet turns into black and while tile, he sat, as if he were a normal person, drinking out of a mug. "How'd ya sleep? You were out for... I dunno? Almost 2 days?" He said to himself, recollecting the extraneous days that had gone by. "You humans sure do sleep a lot." He chuckled, looking at me with almost a sane appeal.

My eyes widened at the fact that he was so close to me. Yes, a few yards away, but still close enough to kill me with whatever he used to. I still didn't grasp how he did all of those attacks when trying to land a hit on me. There had to be a scientific explanation towards it. I didn't say anything in response, but slowly backed away to the other side of the couch, not taking my eyes off of him for even a split second.

In a matter of seconds, as if all I had to do was blink, he was gone. Nowhere in the chair, and completely out of the room. Nothing was there.

Had I lost my mind? Was I suffering that badly from the trauma I had endured out in the snow and the fright this skeleton had given me? It wasn't enough for PTSD, I was sure of it. Hallucinations are common when hungry, but usually it would be hallucinations regarding what my body and my mind was thinking of. Aka: Food. Unless my mind wasn't so invested in thinking about such a topic, when I had thought the skeleton was sitting at the very table in front of me.

"No response?" His voice called. Closer this time, and it came from directly behind me. "How rude of you." He chuckled. I jumped and scrambled to the other side of the couch in fear of this murderer. Looking at him, I could see him with a lazy posture, unlike when we had met in the caverns of the darkened place, and he was still holding the mug, with his left hand. A lefty, I could see. "You sure are well with introductions." He said sarcastically, looking at me with amusement.

You're one to talk.

But I didn't dare say it to his face. He was too unpredictable at the moment. He just continued to take a sip of whatever he was drinking, which caused me to wonder how in the world that was possible. Was he hollow like a real skeleton? If so, where did it all go? "Okay. Not much of a talker, are ya?" He grinned, holding his right hand out for me to shake. His bony fingers were sharpened at the tips, made to look like almost a claw of some sort. "You're Frisk, huh?"

I only looked at his hand in fear, my heart was racing. I didn't know if it was a trap, or what? How did he know my name? I never told him shit! There was no possible way he could have known what my name was. How did he get this information, and how much did he know?

"Come! Allow me to treat you with coffee. I made extra just in case." He grinned, talking over towards the coffee pot and into the kitchen. "I haven't had visitors in a long while." He grinned once more, chuckling a bit. "It's just me and my bro." He poured some coffee into his cup, refilling it. I had stayed where I had woken up, unable to decide to trust this skeletal figure. He had tried to kill me— he had tried to let me freeze to death!

"Now now, you have to drink it in the kitchen. It'll warm you up. It's a Papyrus special." He chuckled a bit, sitting down at the kitchen table. "You coming, Zipper mouth?" He said, a little bit annoyed. "I know you can talk, Girlie, I heard you 2 days ago." He narrowed his eyes, turning back towards the empty table. "I'm not an idiot." He said, almost as if his patience was already a thin line.

I slowly got up and off of the couch, putting the blanket in a warped pile in the corner of the lime green couch, and cautiously making my way towards the kitchen. The skeleton was facing away from me. Maybe I could book it, and make a run for it? Would that be the best move? He took another slow sip of his coffee, I hear the slurps of his drinking echoing through the empty house. It was just the two of us.

I looked towards the door, which I had noticed earlier when I had looked around. It was next to a table with a rock covered in sprinkles. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The skeleton spoke, almost eerily correct. "Have a seat. I insist." He said. "If you run out of that door, I won't hesitate to kill you." He said, rather bluntly. My breathing hitched, and I looked back at the skeleton, who was still facing towards the empty table.

Who was he anyways? How did he know? Was it just a guess?