i wanna be ten feet tall
i wanna grow big red horns
fingers covered in thorns
that pierce everything
ー ten feet tall, cavetown
The thick, smothering air is fit for a lungless skeleton. Cavern ceilings encase the snowed in town, stalactites seeming to shed weightless, pearl tears. The only diner within miles is always stocked with mustard and technically, there's two roofs sheltering him from another cruel world. Sans could define this as the perfect life if he wanted. It certainly won't improve from this. That's what he told himself, every afternoon when he finally woke well enough to process things. Things won't get better. But, that really was alright. He never got anything that he didn't already have coming for him. Sustenance was what mattered. Papyrus made that clear. Here in the Underground, everything revolves around fear. If you didn't have that, then you might as well be dead. And if anyone bothered counting, they'd see how much of an important rule that is to go by.
Fear.
Everyone had it. That clenched feeling in their chest and heavy weight on their shoulders that made each step laced with dread. But there were some that didn't walk in it, but with it. The Great and Terrible Papyrus was a chiseled example. There wasn't a more callous monster that persisted in Snowdin. His fingers were wrapped around each citizen's throat like a venomous snake. The heir to the Captain of the Royal Guard was ruthless, even in a society functioned by cut throats and cruelty. Asgore have mercy on any unfortunate soul luckless enough to cross paths with him. The man took what he wanted and more in the name of preservation, having of only two main motives: Capturing humans and becoming Captain.
There wasn't a thing he would hesitate upon to get what he wanted. Sans knew that more than anyone. Not even his own kin had any say. If Undyne were to say 'execute everyone', Sans wasn't excluded. Many nights, the smaller skeleton was kept up with the muffled screams that echoed from the basement below him. Many more, he was the one suppressing cries in the same dark and cold space.
Everything always tasted faintly of metal. Crimson was a harsh compliment to the town's grays and blacks. Sans grew up in this dull world, trapped miles beneath the surface, so dark days were casual. The stout skeleton's worn shoes trudged over the trampled and dirt-stained ice as he made his way to the designated sentry post. He loved this time of day, usually because the work area near the RUINS are always quiet and no one's ever around except for an occasional myopic guard dog. Whenever he's alone in the forest, somehow life was kind enough to give himself around a half hour minute grace period for when his brother wasn't breathing down his neck. Since he's just a straight forward failure, Papyrus checks on how he performs his task too often for him to have any free moving space. The only thing disconnecting the two from a consistent co-op function would be him vigorously recalibrating puzzles and the fact that Papyrus cannot stand being in the presence of a good-for-nothing monster.
The environment isn't as overbearingly warm as Hotland nor is it as eerily quiet as Waterfall. If the distant maddened banging of a human-eating goat is ceased by a cumbersome sleep, Sans could even say that the place is a little serene. His job isn't hard, either. Keep a socket out for humans, don't nap for over ten minutes at a time, and resist the temptation to grab a bite of Grillbys after he's just eaten lunch; those were his only needed regulations to keep up everyday. For the most part, it's pretty easy. And if he did think so himself, he was doing particularly well today. For some unknown reason, Papyrus had decided to accomplish an exceptional amount of work set aside to complete, meaning he'd pay much less attention to his brother. If Sans could take a guess as to why, it'd probably be so the menace wouldn't have to catch up on any extra tasks after he spends the entirety of a day cooped up in a basement, giving some poor idiot a torturous time. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Either way, it didn't matter to him, seeming he was beginning to tire even before he sat himself down on the rickety station stool. As he took his regular position, like any other day of the week, he folded his arms over one another, hunched himself over the wooden counter, and pressed far enough forward that no snow fell into his jacket hood where the roof had open spaces. Here, he has a clear cut view across the pathway and a broad enough sight that leads a few hundred meters into the thin, towering evergreens. There was no sound, pine needles still and snowfall ginger as it pressed into the ground. No humans would pass by today. At least, that's what he surely thought. He didn't last three minutes before his sockets dimmed and he fell asleep.
"YOU FILTHY IMBECILE!"
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Sans couldn't react fast enough to the yelling before the first blow landed upon his skull. By the time he managed to open his sockets, he was already sent toppling back into the snow, wrists jarring into the frozen sheet layered over the soil. The entire sentry post seemed to shake as Papyrus gripped onto one of the wooden beams to push himself towards his brother, gloved fist curling before being sent straight into the older's face. The well set crack that reverberated throughout his head was interrupted by the skeleton's furious words.
"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT YOUR LAZY ASS IS NOT TO SLEEP ON THE JOB?"
Sans' sight adjusts and he sees the contorted face of his sibling red with a ferocity that could only be explained by that of an exceptionally bad day. He'd probably fight back if he wasn't fear stricken first. Being practically ambushed, he had no time to swallow it and channel his rage instead. This just so happened to be one of the moments of his utmost vulnerability.
"i-i'm sorry boss, it won't happen again- i was just- it was only for-"
And there he was stumbling over his words and cutting himself off from each one of his overused excuses. Trying to gain a bearing of himself through blurred vision, he scrambled backwards through the snow, only for his spine to be stopped by a tree trunk.
"SORRY WON'T CUT IT, SANS."
The shorter skeleton's soul dropped at the sound of the lowered growl. If anything was more terrifying than a screaming Papyrus, was a Papyrus that was suddenly willing to level his temper enough to cease his outward simmering. Frustration was the worst because that meant some part of him was stumped as of what to do, and if anytime there's a hesitation on plan, the resolution is always the infliction of pain. Sans hated cowering in that ominous shadow the other had formed over him, but he hated hairline fractures more.
"ABSOLUTELY USELESS."
Was all he said before Sans was swept off his pelvis, any words he may have needed to express cut off as Papyrus yanked him up by his collar.
The leather thing has become a part of him now. It's a symbol of weakness, of allegiance.
'YOU'RE TO ADDRESS ME ACCORDINGLY WHILST WEARING IT.'
A constant humiliating reminder that just so happened to aid as a convenience to Papyrus when he felt like choking him. Sans' feet were suspended in air, his hands clasped angrily around the taller's wrist. He was sure that his expression was a tantrum-inducing mixture of 'fuck you' and terror, but at this point, the damage was already destined to be dealt. Well enough, Papyrus' free hand enclosed around the strangling male's sternum, skeletal fingers applying the needed force in between the connecting ribs to shoot waves of pain throughout his body.
"papyrus, l-lay the fuck off."
"YOU NEVER LEARN."
Crick.
Sans suppresses a yelp as he feels his already bruised ribcage weaken in all the wrong places. Despite his hollow insides, it was ordained that the most uncomfortable, excruciating pain came when something was laced from within himself. Not to mention that Papyrus was bit by bit sending his one health point wavering, fluctuating as the single number threatened to plummet into decimal.
The intense glower boring into his mind began to blur as he heard the unnatural creak of his ossein shift his entire frame. Papyrus gripped harder, until a visible split was made within the connection of the chest piece and third rib. Sans sputtered as he felt himself slip temporarily. There was a reason for all of this. It's happened before and it will again. This was with plain necessity. His jagged teeth ground against each other as the agony seemed to have no proper way to react towards.
"SUCH INCOMPETENCE IS RIDICULOUS."
His fingers dug into the maroon glove and white spots danced across his vision as his brother showed no signs of letting up.
Papyrus was a sadist. This was what he was born for, though there was more to it. On a single occasion did the younger let it slip that suffering the punishment was only for Sans' good. Otherwise, the real pain would be inflicted on by the actual threats throughout the Underground, and no monster would stop until he was nothing but a pile of dust. This was especially vital for Sans to take note of with his mere one health point. If he didn't know how to fight back, he might as well have dug his grave. Papyrus seemed to stress that often. Sans partially understood that the unceasing nagging about his laziness was the stretch to get him to go out and train, perhaps being motivated to actually gain more LOVE, but his lethargy always kept him at bay. He's always been weak.
Just when he thought his bones would split into even halves all the way down his body, Papyrus let his brother slip to the ground. Hitting the ground with a snow-muted thud, he laid still, in fear that any movement might shatter him.
"I'M GROWING TIRED OF REPEATING MYSELF. SO KEEP IT UP, BROTHER. JUST SEE WHAT HAPPENS. I'M NOT ACCOUNTING FOR YOUR MISTAKES."
Sans could almost spot the darkened Underground ceiling, like an actual sky, but more gray.
"fuck you, huh? "
Papyrus was already walking away.