It was some kind of cellar door that had led them down there. It was dark, even darker than the house itself. Shrouded in even more shadows and dust. Amazingly, there was one source of light aside from the entrance. The cellar itself was nothing more than a long singular hallway, the end where they fell held nothing but cold stone all around them. But on the opposite side they could see a very small lantern on the wall, and beneath the lantern was an old wooden desk.

Warily, the skeletons got to their feet, brushing the dust from the clothes and still trying to shake off the pain from falling so abruptly. Without saying a word, they slowly made their way towards the desk. Various papers and old tattered books were strewn on top and around it. In the corner right next to it was a pile of even more books with various jars that contained a plethora of odd liquids and even smoke.

“What in the world is all of this?” Papyrus quietly inquired.

“No clue,” Sans replied, looking through the strange papers on the desk.

Each paper that he scanned through started off with a title at the top of each page, each one Sans read through was stranger than the last.

“Breathless Fog: A Capturing Spell”

“Cackling Conundrum: A Confusion Spell”

“Snickering Serpent’s Tongue: A Feeding Spell”

“Spells?” Papyrus questioned, having read the papers over Sans’s shoulder. “Like … magic spells? Like Human-Witches and things like that?”

“I don’t know, Pap,” Sans replied, still looking over the pages. “These all seem pretty … well … specific.”

He was only barely scanning through the words on the page. But much like everything else in this world, the spell pages all had one thing in common: it was all tickle-based. Each spell was designed to draw laughter out of whoever or whatever they came into contact with. Either for victims to completely lose their minds with laughter, force them to never stop giggling for the rest of their days, even going so far as to make them lose their breath from laughing too hard. It all seemed way too dangerous.

Sans and Papyrus jolted as they heard the crashing sound of the front door being broken into. Followed by the rumbling of a low growling sound, the Tickle Monster had finally busted through the front door. The two of them froze in place, not even daring to breathe. It wasn’t long before they could hear the Monster’s lumbering footsteps starting to walk around the foyer, obviously looking for the two of them.

With the Ghost Children nearby, and the Cheshire Cat most likely on the way, the skeletons knew that there wasn’t much time. Since they had crashed through the entrance to the cellar, the door was no longer hidden. All anybody had to do to find them was to walk down the right hallway from the foyer, and then it would be over for sure. There was no way out of the cellar. Papyrus started shivering with fear, and he curled into a ball in the corner next to the pile of books, whimpering with fear.

Sans, on the other hand, was growing tired of all of this fear. Maybe it was the confidence he had found while knocking around the sentient paintings with the curtain rod. But he was starting to figure out just how much he could fight back even without the use of his powers. Looking back at the pages upon pages of spells was starting to make him think … maybe he didn’t have to use his own magic to fight back.

He turned back to the desk, shuffling papers around like mad. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, anything that could be used as an attack or a weapon. Anything that could defend him and his brother. Sans’s hand grazed against a ripped page that caught his eye. He glanced at the title….

"Laughing Discord: A Defense Spell"

Sans stared at the title, reading it over and over again. The word ‘defense’ ringing in his skull, making the gears turn excitedly.

"Sans...?" Papyrus whispered timidly. "What are you looking at?"

"This!" Sans quickly held up the ripped sheet of paper so Papyrus could read it.

"Laughing Discord?" He awkwardly read out loud.

"A defense spell, Pap," Sans quietly explained. "If we can find this, we might make it out of here after all."

The page contained a long list of ingredients with a picture on the side of a strange-looking jar containing what looked like smoke that was a deep magenta color. Sans skipped over the ingredients to read the effects of what the spell was meant to do.

"Laughing Discord brings a ticklish touch to any fight. Throw this upon those whom you would have quarreled, and watch their fighting words turn to submissive laughter."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Papyrus asked as he began searching around the floor.

"Throw this upon those whom you would have quarreled…," Sans repeated. "I think it means you throw it at whoever your enemy is?" he guessed. "This potion is meant to tickle your enemies if they breathe it in, like a kind of messed up laughing gas," he explained.

Sans tried to read on, but the bottom half of the sheet was ripped, taking whatever information it had with it. Quickly deciding that it wasn't worth the time to look for, Sans went back to the list of ingredients.

"What the … what even is this?" Sans scanned the ingredients over and over again, nothing about it made any sense.

"A teasing snicker, an angry jeer, words of vengeance? A belly-laugh?! These aren't ingredients, these are random actions! How are we supposed to make this work?”

"Um … Sans?" Papyrus chimed in. "Maybe we could just use this one instead?"

Sans couldn't believe his sockets, Papyrus found the jar from the page! It was even labeled as ‘Laughing Discord’ just for good measure.

"Pap! You're amazing!" Sans quietly celebrated. "How did you even find it?"

"I knew I saw that strange-looking jar from that picture somewhere around here," Papyrus explained. He immediately silenced himself when he heard more voices coming from above.

It sounded like the voices of the Ghost Children. Neither brother could make out exactly what they were saying, but one sounded like they had excitedly said ‘hide-and-seek’. This was followed by the Tickle Monster's low grumbling sound; it sounded like all three of them were now working together.

Thinking fast, Sans cleared off all the books and spell pages from the desk and gently tipped it onto its side with the flat part facing towards the entrance to the cellar. Sans quickly pulled Papyrus behind the desk with him, ducking between the legs and using it like a kind of shield or a barricade. The voices sounded like they were approaching. Sans knew if they decided to go down the right hallway, then they would be spotted for sure. He shakily handed Papyrus the jar of smoke as he kept his eyes glued to the entrance.

“Okay, Pap…,” he whispered intensely. “When I say ‘now’, I need you to throw the jar as hard as you can towards the entrance, got it?” He knew that Papyrus would have a better chance at getting the jar a good distance away from them with his longer arms. Papyrus nodded, although he still seemed unsure and frightened.

Sans kept his sockets locked on the door, glancing back and forth between the entrance itself and the floor, checking to see if he could find any shadows. Sweat trickled down his neck as he listened intensely for their voices. He knew that this potion would be their only chance at escape, and he just hoped with all his Soul that it would work.

Papyrus stared into the jar, utterly mesmerized by the swirling magenta smoke. It was almost reminiscent of a little storm cloud as it weaved around and around in its tiny glass prison. The longer Papyrus held it close to his face, the more he swore he could hear something. Much like his encounter with the hanging cages in the foyer, Papyrus swore that he could hear distant ghostly laughter coming from the jar. He held the jar up to the side of his face, pressing his ear canal tightly against the glass to hear better.

Sure enough, the laughing sound was coming from deep within the jar, but there was something else to it. Listening carefully Papyrus thought that he could pick up regular speaking voices, what were they saying? No, not ‘saying’ … screaming. These new voices weren’t corrupted by laughter, these voices sounded angry, like they were in the midst of some intense argument.

Sans shut his eyes for a moment to try and figure out just where the voices were, this time they sounded farther away. Could it be they went down the wrong hallway looking for them? The sound of the Tickle Monster’s giant lumbering feet on the stairs confirmed it. By some miracle, the attackers had missed them completely and were now headed to the attic, far away from where the skeletons were hiding.

Sans breathed out a steady sigh of relief. He knew better than to get too comfortable with them only having so many other places to search before finding them. But at least he and Papyrus were still undiscovered for the moment.

“They’re going up the stairs,” Sans whispered, unaware that Papyrus was still listening to the jar and not paying attention. “Don’t let your guard down,” Sans continued. “But … I think we’re safe for now.”

“Now?!”

The signal word immediately snapped Papyrus out of his fascination with the jar. In a blind panic, fearing he had missed his cue, he quickly stood up. He reared back with the jar in hand like a baseball, preparing to throw with all his might.

Sans’s Soul just about stopped, eyes widened in horror at the realization of his mistake.

“Pap! No! Wait!”

Sans watched, practically in slow motion as Papyrus launched the jar into the air. It flew across the cellar heading straight for the opposite wall. To both brother’s surprise, it bounced off of the stone wall with a sharp “CLINK!” but instantly shattered once it ricocheted onto the floor. The deep magenta smoke flew up into the air escaping from the jagged pieces on the floor. It blocked the entrance to the cellar and, within moments, was filling up the space faster than either of them had anticipated.

For a moment, both of them stood there in shock. Their only defense, their only weapon, their only means of escape laid shattered on the stone floor. Sans began to shiver as he felt this deep burning resentment start to boil up from inside him. He glared at Papyrus, fairly certain that the red he was seeing wasn’t just coming from the smoke.

“PAPYRUS!” he growled sharply. Only remembering to lower his voice once he heard it starting to echo against the walls. “That wasn’t the signal! Why weren’t you paying attention?!”

“Hey! You were the one who told me to throw it after the signal word!” Papyrus snapped back, already angered by Sans’s sudden temper. “I did exactly what you told me to do with this crazy idea of yours!”

“I didn’t think I had to specify when to—AAAGH! Ahahahahaha!!”

Sans suddenly began to feel a deep tingling coming from inside his ribcage. It grew more and more intense, building into a horrible tickling sensation. He clutched at his ribs, hopeful to put an end to it, but found no source as to where the tickling was coming from. Then he remembered the potion, it was meant to tickle the victims of whoever breathed it in, meaning the tickling was coming from inside of him. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Ahahahaha!! Oh-Oh nohohohoho! Nohohohohohahaha!! P-Pahahap!! Pap, the spehehehell!! It-It—”

“NYAAAAGH!!! Nyahahahahaha!!” It was too late to give any warning. Papyrus clutched his ribs with both hands indicating that the potion had started affecting him as well.

“Nyaaaahahahaha!! Oh no!! That—AHAHAHAA!! Thahahat reheheheally—HAHAHA!! Really tihihihihihickles!!

“Ahahaha!! Y-Yeah, nohoho kidding—ahahaha!!” Sans snapped, still feeling spiteful. “M-Mahahaybe yohohou sh-shouldn’t have throhohohown the stupid jahahar—Ahahahahaha!! B-Befohohohore it was time—EEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!”

Sans outright squealed as the potion’s effects spread up to his underarms, all the while intensifying around his ribs. He collapsed to his knees, still holding himself tightly. Trying his best to silence his laughter for fear of alerting the others in the house.

“Oh-Oh Yeheheheah?!” Papyrus retaliated. “W-Well, mahahaybe you should g-gihihive—Nyahahaha!! C-Clehehearer instructions fohohor your stupid plahahahans!! AAAGH!! NYAHAHAHAHA!!”

Papyrus curled into himself as he, too, could feel the potion’s effect growing stronger. It spread down to his spine, nearly reaching his hips. He flopped down onto his side, clutching his knees to his chest.

“NYEEEEHEEHEEHEE!! H-Hohohow do we mahahake it STAHAHAHAP?!” Papyrus desperately squealed, his feet frantically kicking, hoping to relieve the ticklish stress.

“I-I-I-heeheehee don’t knohohow!! Maybeheeheehee you can juhuhuhust make friehehehends with ihihihit—HAHAHAHA!! And-And it’ll beheehee all behehehetter!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Sans bitterly quipped.

Despite the tickling growing worse and worse within him, he was still upset with his brother. For all the times Papyrus didn’t listen to him, or tried to be friendly with every single little creature, that just wound up getting them more and more tickle tortured. It all culminated into Sans’s frustration that was coming out, whether he was being tickled or not.

“NYAHAHAHAHA!! Oh-Oh, ahahand your plahahans have been sohohoho successfuhuhuhul?!” Papyrus shot back through laughter. “You-Yohohohou just keheeheeheep getting uhuhuhus in more trohohohohouble!! EEEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!”

Papyrus was upset too, despite being tickle tortured. Although he knew his brother was just trying to get them out of whatever situation they landed in, it was frustrating how Sans couldn’t see how much his plans actually failed. Not to mention the fact that they wouldn’t even be in this situation right now without his potion plan.

Papyrus squealed as he felt the sensation beginning to creep up his ribs and towards his underarms. He curled in even tighter on himself, as if trying to block the effect of the potion from spreading to any other area.

“NOHOHOHOHO!!” he cried desperately. “NOHOHOHOHO!! STAHAHAHAP!! NYAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“W-Wehehehell—AHAHAHAHA!! At-At lehehehast I’m nahahat delusional!! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Sans struggled to choke out a cheap insult as the laughter consumed him. He wasn’t even fighting to make a point anymore. As his mind started slipping away, he started spitting out whatever he could think of just to get back at his brother. He fell onto his front with his head practically banging on the stone floor, the tickling sensation was steadily spreading up his back and even going down to the pits of his knees. He cackled so hard, barely any sound came out of him, he opened his eyes to see tears falling onto the ground with spontaneous splatters.

“NYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! ST-ST-ST-AHAHAHAHA!!!” Papyrus rolled onto his back, struggling to laugh out an insult of his own. “STUHUHUHUHU—AHAHAHAHA!! STUHUHUBBORN SKEHEHEHEHLETON!! NYAAHAHAHAHHAHA…!”

That was all he got before his shrieks turned into silent laughter. The tickling spread past his legs and down to his feet. For the few agonizing moments that he didn’t make a sound, his body contracted with small jerks and spasms. Once he managed to inhale, nothing more came out of his mouth save for a few gasping squeaks and light airy chuckles.

Sans managed to lift his head up, despite the tickling starting to caress at his neck. His mind reeled trying to come up with something snarky to say. But seeing his brother spazzing out on the floor like that, tear-stained cheeks and jaw locked open in a frantic frozen laugh, he couldn’t help but feel terrible for him.

He knew deep down that this was just as much his own fault as it was his brother’s. As frustrated as he was with the situation, his natural big brother instincts told him to put everything aside to rescue Papyrus. Sans didn’t know how, being in the position he was in with his own ticklishness. But he made the decision right then and there to stop this useless bickering and help Papyrus, whatever that took.

Sans felt something strange at that very moment. The tickling in his knees had started to fade, and even the sensation on his back was feeling lighter. He was still being tickled around the entire midsection, but he could at least manage to get in a gasping breath between fits of laughter. Was the potion starting to wear off? No, that couldn’t be. The magenta fog was still lingering in the air, and if it was truly fading away then Sans would have felt the tickling in his ribs start to lighten by now. He had to get to the bottom of this, it could be their only key to ending this nightmare.

Still clutching his ribs, Sans steadily crawled back over to the piles of paper he had discarded earlier. He nearly buckled a few times as the tickling sensation continuously attacked at his underarms, but he kept pushing forward as he crawled past Papyrus. His poor brother was nearly sobbing as he writhed on the floor, still overcome with near-silent laughter.

Finally reaching the spell pages, Sans frantically shuffled through the stack trying to locate the one for ‘Laughing Discord’. He turned over page after page after page. Getting more and more frustrated as the tickles were making his head spin. Eventually he had to stop just to claw at his ribs and laugh uncontrollably. He couldn’t understand why he suddenly couldn’t find the spell they just had.

“C-Cohohohohome ahahahahahn!! Hahahahaha!!” he pleaded desperately. “Come on!! Hahaha! Whehehere ahahahare yohohohohou?! Ahahahahaha!!”

As the unbearable tingling swirled around his ribcage and fluttered along his spine, Sans collapsed onto the ground once again. His face planted into the ground as his body rocked with laughter. It was too much. Though it had lightened up enough for him not to completely lose his breath like Papyrus, it was still unbearable and unending.

“Stahahahahap!! Pleheeheeheeheease!! I-I cahahahan’t!!” He wasn’t sure who exactly he was pleading to. But it was almost therapeutic in a way, a sort of venting that was helping in a way that physically fighting couldn’t.

“Ahahahahahaha!! Pleheeheease!! No mohohohore!! I-I dohohon’t wanna be tihihihihickled anymohohohohore!!”

He opened his eyes to let a few more tears escape. In his direct line of sight was a tiny crumpled up piece of paper that had been thrown into the far corner. He shakily reached for it, letting out a squeal as he opened his underarm and felt the tickling sensation grow stronger. But he managed to grab the torn sheet, clutching it close to his chest.

Opening the paper, he could immediately tell, this was the piece that had been torn from the ‘Laughing Discord’ spell. He struggled to read it through the tears in his eyes, he rapidly blinked them away and tried to focus.

“Turns fighting into laughing. The more the victim quarrels, the more potent the potion effects. If inhaled, keep absolutely calm. Will be triggered by arguments, insults, and disharmony.”

It all made sense, the more the two of them fought with each other, the stronger the tickling became. Sans began to realize just why the sensation had let up on him. He swallowed his resentment, despite still being angry and chose to put the bickering aside for Papyrus. Therefore not giving the potion any power over him.

With newfound hope, Sans quickly crawled over to Papyrus, who was still a squeaking puddle on the floor. Though the tickling was still present in his mid section, Sans shook Papyrus and tried to convey what he had just figured out.

“Pahahahahap!!” Sans wheezed as he shook his brother’s arm. “Papyruhuhuhuhus!! W-We gohohohotta stahahahap—hahahahaha!! Got-Gohohohotta stop fihihihighting!! Hahahaha!!”

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHA…!” Papyrus looked like he was trying to say something. But every time he tried to convey words, they just came out as frenzied laughter that eventually trailed off onto silent wheezing.

“I-I-Hahahaha!! I-heeheeheeheem Sahahahaharry!! Hahahaha!! I’m sorry—heeheehee, brohohoho!!”

Sans tried his best to sound sincere in his apology. Although his tone was corrupted by frantic laughter, it was enough for the tickling to lighten up on his underarms. It was working! He was now left only moderately giggling now from the tingling in his ribcage.

“Bro, I’m sohohorry!” he continued to apologize, hoping to make the tickling go away completely. “I-I know I mehehessed up, I knohohow…. I know I dohohon’t think things throhohough—Haha! I’m-I’m sorry I yehehehelled at yohohou! C’mon! Hahaha!”

Slowly but steadily, the tickling sensation in his ribs faded away. He took in a sharp gasping breath of air. Grateful to finally be free. But the peace didn’t last as his focus now shifted to saving Papyrus. His brother was still helplessly cackling on the floor, no longer having any strength to fight or flail about.

“Pap, you gotta stop fighting, it’s the only way!” Sans frantically shook his arm. He wasn’t even sure if Papyrus could hear him with all of his hysterical laughter. “Papyrus!” Sans yelled as he grabbed his brother’s cheekbones. “Papyrus, look at me! You have to stop fighting and apologize! We need to make up with each other, it’s how you stop the potion, trust me!”

“I-I-I-AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! SAHAHAHAHAHA…!”

The look on Papyrus’s face said it all, even if he had agreed to reconcile with him, the tickling potion had gotten him in too big of a frenzy to even get a word out. Sans couldn’t snap him out of it, and it was only a matter of time before Papyrus would completely run out of air from laughing so hard. His face was so orange, it was almost turning into a bright red. Sans had to do something.

“Do you suppose they might be down these stairs?”

That voice, that deep sophisticated voice. It was the Cheshire Cat! Sans quickly glanced over at the entrance to the cellar. He could hear the faint sounds of the Tickle Monster’s footsteps coming down the stairs that led to the right hallway. They were coming!

“Ooh yeah! I think I could hear something down there!” The Ghost Girl’s voice was faint, but clear enough for Sans to make out what she and the others were saying.

“I’ll bet they’ve gotten themselves into some BIG trouble here!” The Ghost Boy’s voice followed after.

Sans’s mind raced, there were no more potions that could help defend either of them. It’s not like that really worked to begin with. Papyrus was rapidly losing breath and energy, he would be in serious trouble if he was caught down here. If Sans even wanted to run to find help, where could he possibly go? There was no way he was going to leave Papyrus like this, there was too much of a risk of being spotted with their attackers growing closer and closer.

If only his powers were working! If only he could attack them with a Gaster Blaster or protect Papyrus with a blockade of bones. Even something as simple as teleportation to get them out of this blasted house! He thumped two fists against his skull, silently cursing himself for losing his powers in such an awful place.

That’s when he felt it. A small spark, an old familiar one. It flickered within the depths of his Soul, hardly noticeable on any other occasion had Sans not been so hyper-actively feeling for it. He froze, not wanting the feeling to slip away. Was he gaining some of his magic back? Was it coming back on its own or did messing with the magic of this world do something to trigger it? There were too many questions that Sans didn’t have time to figure out, the footsteps were growing louder.

He exhaled deeply, trying to focus. Trying to block out the noises all around him. The footsteps, the voices, even trying to block out his brother’s frantic gasps for air. He shut his eyes, trying to feel out the spark again. It was there, he knew it was. It was the tiniest, faintest of glimmers. But if he could just conjure it enough, let it grow, allow himself to absorb it … maybe he could gain enough power for one quick move.

“Hey look at that!” cried the Ghost Boy. “It’s a hole in the floor!”

“Ooh! We got ‘em this time!” cheered the Ghost Girl.

Sans’s magic sparked again, he could feel it slowly starting to collect in his fingertips. But it wasn’t enough … not yet. It needed just a little more time to manifest.

Papyrus started gagging, the lack of oxygen finally starting to take a toll on him as he choked through laughter. Sans immediately put a hand on his brother’s chest. Partially to let him know that he was still there for him, but also to make sure that whatever happened next happened to the both of them.

“I say, old boys,” called the Cheshire Cat. “Why don’t you come out of that hole of yours? I assure you, nobody here is going to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” added the Ghost Girl in a mischievous tone. “We only wanna tickle you a little.”

Sans grunted as he strained to hurry the process, he hadn’t yet manifested enough magic to do anything. Pulling the spark from his Soul and keeping it growing was starting to tire him out. He was already exhausted thanks to that potion, now he had to find the stamina to keep what little magic he had left going strong.

“Please…,” he silently pleaded for his own strength. “Please … just … a little bit … more!”

The Tickle Monster’s shadow appeared at the entranceway, followed by the stomping of its enormous feet. It growled deviously as it approached. At last, the brothers heard the low chuckling of the Cheshire Cat as his paw came into view. He was about to jump.

“Very well, boys,” he called. “If you’re not coming out … then we’re coming in.”

‘ZZZZZZZTTT!’

Magic zapped out of Sans’s fingertips. It wasn’t much, and was already starting to fade. Sans shut his eyes tightly, he only had one shot. He clutched his fingers together, snapping them.

POOF!

In an instant, Sans and Papyrus had teleported out of the Haunted House, and far away from the Ghost Children, the Tickle Monster, and the Cheshire Cat.

***

“Well that’s odd,” Gaster said out loud. “I thought this medication was supposed to be relaxing, not bring about more distress.”

The monitors beeped, indicating that Sans and Papyrus’s Souls were beating at a much faster rate than before. Oxygen masks covered their faces as they were deeply inhaling a substance that Gaster had never even used before. Dr. Alphys referred to it as ‘Laughing Gas’, apparently it was meant to be used as a sedative for humans.

Figuring it might have the opposite effect on Monsters, Gaster decided to give it a shot with his sons. Hoping that somehow inhaling the strange gas would rouse them from their hypnosis. Unfortunately, the gas was neither relaxing or awakening the skeletons, but instead was putting their bodies in a state of stress and anxiety.