#locketale

“So, Chara.” Frisk tried, “how old are you?”

Giving her the side eye, Chara asked, “Now, or before I died?”

“Um, before you died?”

“Eighteen.”

“Now?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure I’m chronologically old enough to be your great-grandfather.”

“Oookay. What’s your favorite food?”

“Chocolate.”

“What did you like to do for fun before you died?”

“What is with all the questions?”

“I was just thinking that if we’re going to be partners, as you put it, it might be a good idea for us to get to know each other.”

“Why?”

“Er, well . . .” Frisk twiddled her thumbs.

“There is no need for us to know anything about one another,” Chara said, never missing a step even as Frisk faltered and now had to jog to catch up. “We are nothing more than two individuals with a shared goal: to get to the barrier. We do not need to know anything about the other in order to accomplish this goal. All we have to do is work together; no more, no less.”

Crossing her arms, Frisk puffed up her chest, walked ahead of Chara, and declared, “You know, when I first met you, I thought you might be kind of cool, with your mysterious past and everything. But the more I talk to you, the more I come to the conclusion that you’re actually pretty lame.”

Chara made no comment to her remark, so Frisk kept marching forwards. Is there an end to this dark tunnel? As she had the thought, a gateway came into view.

“Oh,” she said, “I think that’s the exit!”

“It is,” Chara confirmed, coming from behind. He looked more irritated than usual, but he sounded as monotone as ever as he said, “Snowdin Road is right through that doorway, and it is a straightforward trip from there. It should a two-day journey to Snowdin Town. One if you decide against rest.”

Nodding, Frisk kept moving forward. When she came to the door, she placed her left palm on the wood and froze. Am I really going to leave the Ruins? After so many years, am I finally able to see the rest of the Underground? Will meeting Papyrus and Undyne help lighten the burden of walking away from Mom?

“Hello, Stripes, sometime today,” Chara said, and Frisk didn’t have to turn around to know that he was rolling his eyes at her. “I’m sure you want to leave her before you turn into a ghost like me.”

“Shut up, will you!” Frisk snapped. “I’ve never been outside of the Ruins before. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Well,” Chara extended his hand as if welcoming her into the new world, “there’s only one way to find out.”

Steeling herself, Frisk took a deep breath and pushed into the door with all her might. It did not give way easily, but the door was not stuck in place. With enough effort, Frisk was able to open the doorway from the dark ends of the Ruins and into the bright world of what Chara called Snowdin Road.

The first thing Frisk felt as she opened the door was biting cold air. The next was a fresh, clean scent she could not place. The last was light – not light from magical fireballs, but pure sunlight from what must have come from some other holes in the mountain.

With the door now opened, Frisk stepped through and stared wide-eyed at the new world before her. Jaw dropping, Frisk took in the sight of more space Underground than she ever thought possible, of trees stretched out as far as the eye could see, and of snow blanketing the world in its white embrace.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Frisk said, stepping further out of the black Ruins and into the white forest. Everything – the sights, smell, and very air – was different. It was more than Frisk ever could have imagined.

Then something loud banged behind her. Spinning around, Frisk saw the door to the Ruins had slammed shut. In a panicked state, Frisk rushed to open it. However, the door did not open. Like it or not, Frisk was locked out of the only real home she had ever known. There was no going back now.

“I wonder how those guards were able to enter the Ruins if the door was locked,” Chara said as Frisk pitifully gave up trying to open the door again.

“I don’t know. Magic, maybe?” Frisk tried, staring at the door as she willed it to open again. It did not budge.

Stepping closer, Chara studied the door. After a moment of observation, he muttered, “Odd. It appears that the door has been repaired recently.”

“By who?”

“I don’t know, but since Toriel, as far as we are aware, did not come here while you packed, whoever fixed the door had to have been someone from the outside.”

“Maybe those guards broke the door down, and when they retreated, they tried fixing it again so I wouldn’t escape?”

“Yes, but if that is the case, why not lock the door from the outside? If they wanted to trap you, leaving the door so that all you had to do to open it was give it a good push would not have been the wisest decision to make there.”

Thinking for a moment, Frisk cracked a grin and said, “Maybe they wanted to fix the door so that it was pull only but got mixed up and made a push only door instead.”

After Chara stared at her grinning face for a moment with nothing but a raised brow, Frisk frowned and said, “Hey, come on. I’m funny.”

“Funny looking. Now let’s go.”

Stung by the comment but refusing to admit it, Frisk grit her teeth and followed Chara as he began his descent into the woods. Asking him to stop for a moment, Frisk pulled her coat and scarf from her pack and bundled up against the cold. Thankfully she had time to prepare before venturing off into this new world.

They didn’t walk long before they came across a giant branch in the road. Frisk tried to move it off the path – “In case someone else comes through here. I don’t want it to be in their way too, Chara.” – but it was too heavy to pick up. Refusing to admit defeat, Frisk used all her might to drag the branch off the road with semi-success.

Yet as they resumed their journey down the path, they heard something snap behind them. Turning around, Frisk felt her heart jump to her throat when she saw the branch broken into not two, three, or even ten pieces. Frisk stepped closer to the branch to see it broken into sticks and splinters.

“This was the large branch I struggled to drag off the road, right?” Frisk asked Chara as she barely had the strength to so much as point her finger at the remains. “I’m not imaging things, am I?”

“Keep moving,” was Chara’s only answer. Frisk did not hesitate to take his advice.

As they kept walking, Frisk couldn’t help but sense that they were being followed. It sounded as if a second pair of footsteps – Chara’s made no sound – were walking in the snow with her. Yet every time Frisk looked over her shoulder, nobody else was there.

“Keep walking. Don’t look back.” Chara began to walk backwards, and after a moment, Frisk resumed walking forwards. “Only you can see and hear me. If something is following you, it’s not going to know that I’m watching.”

Frisk wanted to respond. So much of her wanted to ask Chara if she should be scared. However, she didn’t open her mouth. If what Chara suggested was true, talking to him could give away this advantage. All she could do was hope that if they were indeed being followed, it wasn’t by a giant monster ready to reap her soul from her body.

For a minute, they walked in silence. Chara kept walking backwards, his stride just as confident and sure as if he trekked forwards. Either not having to worry about tripping made this an easy task for him, or this was just one of those useless talents, like Frisk and reading upside down.

Before she could open her mouth to suggest that the coast might be clear and she and Chara were just being paranoid, she heard Chara shout, “Run!”

Instead of doing what she was told, Frisk turned around. She wished she hadn’t. Now she knew a monster was following right behind, a monster she was sure with whom she did not want to have an encounter.

Breaking into a sprint, Frisk raced for safety. Whatever safety was to be had in the first place, Frisk didn’t know. However, running seemed to be a better alternative than waiting to see whoever was following her to get any closer.

As she ran, Frisk saw a bridge coming up. There were bars on the sides of it, too big to keep anyone from getting through. Perhaps, she figured, protection could be found on the other side of that bridge.

Yet as she was coming to the edge of the bridge, Frisk fell. She didn’t know if it was a rock or a root that got her, but either way, she was now face first in the snow. Cursing herself, Frisk pushed upwards to pick herself up.

“Now is not the time to be a klutz, Stripes!” Chara shouted as he stopped right in front of her, and Frisk wanted to snap at him that she wasn’t trying to get herself caught.

Without time to get back on her feet or consider yelling at Chara, Frisk knew it was too late. She saw the shadow over her before she heard the footsteps come to a halt. Then she heard a voice.

“Human,” said the newcomer, his voice deep like the chasm below, “don’t you know how to greet a new pal? Rise, turn around, and shake my hand.”

This is how I die.

Frisk looked at Chara, but his expression gave nothing away, as usual. His eyes seemed to be locked on the monster, but he displayed neither fear nor relief. She had no way of guessing how scary the monster behind her was.

Once again on her feet, Frisk took a deep breath. Pinching her eyes shut, Frisk spun around and reached out. Her hand made contact with the monster’s, and she gave the hand a small squeeze.

PFFFTTTTT!

Eyes flying open, Frisk beheld the monster before her.

A skeleton. The monster was a skeleton dressed in a black turtleneck, basketball shorts, yellow slippers, and a red hoodie. The monster was a head shorter than Frisk, but he was wider in his short stature.

The monster was also laughing, a deep and hearty laughter. Frisk didn’t know much about skeleton monster biology, but she used the deep voice and laughter to determine that the monster was male. She couldn’t quite remember what the differences in male and female skeletal makeup were, so the voice and dress was the most she had to work with.

It wasn’t long before the monster stopped laughing. He wore a wide smile on his face. “Ah, the old whoopie cushion in the hand trick. It’s always funny.”

“Uhh.” Frisk struggled to find something to say, but the monster kept talking.

“Anyway, the name’s Sans. Sans the skeleton. You’re a human, right? That’s hilarious. I’m supposed to be on the watch for humans right now.”

Before Frisk could open her mouth, not that she knew what she was going to say, a prison of bones emerged from the ground and surrounded her. Voice caught in her throat, Frisk tried to swallow as her heart dropped into her stomach. She couldn’t see Chara, but she could hear him loud and clear when he spoke.

“Frisk,” Toriel called from the kitchen, “don’t forget to set out the napkins.”

“I won’t,” Frisk replied, quickly getting the napkins from the counter and setting them beside the plates. When she was satisfied with her work, Frisk moved to the kitchen to help Toriel bring out the food.

Their home was a small, quaint little place. The living room and dining room where one in the same, with the tiny square table near the corner across from the kitchen while two reading chairs sat by the fireplace. There was a rug in the middle of the floor on which Frisk would spend many nights lying on her stomach as she drew or read, her own chair mostly used for decoration. The bookshelf had a small collection for Toriel and Frisk to read together, each trying to find something new they had not noticed before in the books they had read dozens of times.

There were also two bedrooms and an “art room.” Toriel, it seemed, knew an artist a long time ago, as the room at the end of the hall was filled with paintings and unfinished canvases that once belonged to the painter. Although officially, the art room was a storage room, and a lot of the clothes and toys Frisk had long since outgrown were packed away in the room as well.

Once the salad, baked potatoes, and lentil soup were laid out, Frisk and Toriel each sat the ends of the table. Toriel said the blessing, and the two began to eat. Or at least Toriel did. Frisk’s stomach had tied itself into knots. No matter how much time she spent mentally and emotionally preparing, Frisk still felt nervous.

“Um, hey, Mom?”

Toriel responded by looking up, her brows slightly furrowed at Frisk’s stutter.

“So,” Frisk began, trying to think over her racing thoughts, “I finished my studies, right?”

“Other than those last few lessons on which you have procrastinated, you have.” Toriel smiled as she stirred her lentil soup. “You finished the curriculum I prepared for you much sooner than I expected.”

“And you don’t have another in mind, correct?”

“I do not see what else there is for me to teach you.”

“And I’m sixteen now, right?”

“I do not think you would forget something like that.” Now Toriel frowned. “My child, what are all these questions to which you know the answers about?”

Here it is. The moment we have all been waiting for.

Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, Frisk said, “So, I was thinking since I’m older now and I have almost finished my studies, that perhaps maybe I could leave the Ruins?”

Toriel’s eyes widened as her brows rose to sit on the top of her head. After a moment, in which Frisk was sure Toriel was making sure she understood her human daughter’s request, the motherly monster replied, “Absolutely not. You know it’s a dangerous world out there.”

“I’ll be all right!” Frisk argued. “The Ruins wasn’t always the safest place for me either. Remember when I first came here, and all the monsters would attack me? Now we all get along just fine!”

“Because I sat everyone down and gave them a stern talking to,” Toriel countered. “Everyone in the Ruins respects the haven I made this place to be. Nobody would do anything to risk the safety I have provided and continue to provide. That includes not laying a hand on my child.

“My influence, however, does not exist outside of the Ruins. Monsters will attack. They will try to kill you. Trust me, my child, if King Asgore knew you were here, even the Ruins would not be safe. Those monsters out there believe that a human is a dangerous thing. You’re safer here where these monsters know you as a friend and not a foe.”

Losing her appetite, Frisk dropped her spoon in her bowl and pushed the food away. This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation. Even now, with all this time to prepare, Frisk still couldn’t disagree with Toriel’s point. Normally, this would have been the end of the conversation. Only this time, Frisk tried to push back.

“You can’t keep me here forever,” she muttered, looking everywhere except at Toriel. “I have seen everything there is to be seen in the Ruins. There’s nothing left to explore or any new adventures to have. The Ruins are too small. I don’t see how I can remain happy here for much longer.”

Minutes passed without Toriel replying. Risking a peek, Frisk slid her eyes towards her mother to see the goat monster frowning at her salad. It seemed she, too, was now no longer hungry.

“You are the cruelest human yet,” Toriel began, her voice thick. Frisk flinched. Of everything the human expected Toriel to say, this wasn’t on the list.

Choking back sobs, Toriel continued, “Most humans left after days, if not hours. They did not stay long. They did not call me ‘Mother.’ Now you, whom I have loved and raised as the daughter I never had, want to leave too. You want to leave the safe home I provided for you to venture off into a world you know wants to kill you. My child, how can you force such heartache onto the woman who has done so much for you?”

Frisk, feeling awful, slid down in her chair. She slouched so much her eyes only just looked over the table. Frisk could barely see Toriel’s paws curled into fists as tears ran down the older woman’s eyes. There was nothing Frisk could say to that. Guilt ate at her, gnawing from the inside out.

“I’m sorry,” Frisk finally said, unable to gather the strength to push herself back up. “I . . . I won’t speak of this again.”

“That’s what you said the last time you asked about leaving the Ruins,” Toriel pointed out. “And the time before that. And the time before that. . . .”

Frisk lacked the backbone to keep insisting on the way out. She could walk through the Ruins on her own every day, learning the puzzles so well she could do them with her eyes closed. Fighting a sentient flower on a regular basis was nothing Frisk was ever anxious about. If anything, the battles could be fun, even if they did hurt. Yet when it came to upsetting Toriel, Frisk couldn’t do it. She wasn’t determined enough to break this woman’s heart, not when Frisk had spent so long not knowing that it was like to have a mother who loved her.

“I mean it this time.” Pushing herself from the table, Frisk muttered an excuse and dismissed herself to her room.

Sitting on her bed, Frisk picked up the camera she had gotten for her previous birthday and looked through the pictures. A group of Froggits by the river. A trio of Whimsum trying with little success to remain brave in front of the camera. A lot of monsters mingling together as they lived a peaceful life in the Ruins.

Occasionally there was a picture or two of Frisk that she took of herself. The only picture Toriel took of Frisk, Toriel’s finger was in the shot. Even now, Frisk couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face at the memory. There were a few pictures of Frisk and Toriel together. Although these pictures were of mother and daughter, it was moments like this where Frisk saw them as monster and human.

Frisk kept the camera away from herself, held up a peace sign, and smiled as she snapped a photo. Observing it, Frisk liked how it came out. She looked happy in the orange glow of her room. Anyone else would see the photo and not know how she felt while taking it. More than half of Frisk’s pictures of herself were taken when she felt this way.

Stretched out on the bed, Frisk looked through the rest of her photos before setting the camera aside. Minutes ticked by. Hours passed before she realized it.

Maybe it would be better if the whole conversation never happened. . . . Frisk lied there, considering the thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time Frisk undid such unpleasant moments.

Where are the knives?

Pushing herself off the bed, Frisk slowly walked out of her room and listened for signs of Toriel’s whereabouts. Nothing. It was unlikely Toriel would have gone to bed this early, so perhaps she was out. There were secret errands Toriel liked to run. It wasn’t unusual for her to be gone for extended periods of time during such tasks.

The first place Frisk checked was the kitchen. Nothing sharp to be seen. That wasn’t new. When Frisk first began living with Toriel, one thing she didn’t fail to notice was how there was nothing lying around that could be used as a weapon. Even the fire pokers were filed down to harmless blunts. It was as if Toriel was very, very afraid of someone getting hurt.

For a while, Toriel began to trust Frisk enough to allow her access to such devices. Then one day, Toriel walked in on Frisk preparing to do something unforgivable with one of those knives. Although Frisk made it so that day never happened, it seemed Toriel was never, ever going to completely forget despite this. The knives were again put away. They only came out whenever Toriel was keeping her eyes on them the entire time.

Not that Frisk really needed them. Anything that could be used as a weapon would do. However, it was simply easier to use something meant to cut.

Slipping into Toriel’s unoccupied room, Frisk began to look around. She checked the drawers and looked under the bed. Oddly enough, the knives were very rarely in the same place twice. It was as if Toriel knew to move them into a new hiding place regularly. Toriel knew a lot she wasn’t supposed to, Frisk had noticed a long time ago.

Something shiny caught Frisk’s eye. Frisk walked closer to the desk to see a golden heart-shaped locket next to Toriel’s diary. Furrowing her brows, Frisk picked it up. She vaguely recalled seeing it once or twice before. Toriel almost never wore jewelry, so Frisk couldn’t understand why she would own a locket.

The words Best Friends Forever were etched into the golden material on one side while the same rune on most of Toriel’s robes was on the other. Although the necklace was well-cared for, Frisk could tell that it was incredibly old. She wondered if this was Toriel’s when she was younger and if this was the last thing Toriel had left of an old friend Frisk had never met.

Filled with a childish impulse, Frisk thought about putting on the locket. It wasn’t going to help her find what she was looking for, but she wanted to try it on nonetheless. Wearing it wouldn’t hurt anything.

Frisk clasped the chain around her neck and looked at herself in the mirror. The gold heart rested on her chest. As she expected, there was nothing special about the necklace.

“It’s rude to ignore others who are in the same room as you.”

Heart going from resting to pounding in a split second, Frisk gathered the courage to turn around. A scream rose up, but it didn’t make it past her lips. To keep from falling over, Frisk clutched at the desk behind her and used it to keep herself upright.

There was a boy in the room with her. Frisk swallowed. A human boy.

He looked just like her. Yet at the same time, they looked nothing alike. It was the weirdest thing.

His skin was an almost creamy pale compared to her brown. Unlike Frisk’s thick chocolate hair, he had thin, board straight chestnut-colored locks. The boy’s cheeks were so rosy it gave him a creepy, unearthly look.

The words were out before Frisk knew she was speaking. “Who are you?”