#so here!!

okay so i wanted to organize this into themes and shit but i ended up dragging my feet for three months so here take this list (in no particular order) of stuff i’ve read and enjoyed over the last few years and think you guys would too:

truly devious by maureen johnson 

tweet cute by emma lord

enchantée by gita trelease

the red palace by june hur

tokyo ever after by emiko jean

if you could see the sun by ann liang

heist society by ally carter

an affair of poisons by addie thorley

prep school confidential by kara taylor

secret shanghai series by chloe gong

dial a for aunties by jesse q. sutanto

kaguya sama: love is war by aka akasaka

wotakoi by fujita

black water sister by zen cho 

transparent edits of the kids, free to use with credit appreciated! brown dark world kris included as a bonus :)

based on my headcanons: frisk is black, chara is ojibwe, and kris is pakistani. i also made the colours of their outfits a bit less glaring.

TAPE ONE

[Bored] Manny Sherman. Born January one. Nineteen fifty-six. Come on, you know all this. What do you want?

What’s this?

Huh… You’ve been doing your research, haven’t you Special Agent Munday?

What are my favorite television programs? Describe my first *pet?* [Mocking] What were your friends like as a child? [Annoyed] What is this?!

You taking a survey, or you trying to learn something?

Would it kill you to be direct?

You wanted to know what inspired me? As if *I* wasn’t an original?

Well…maybe there was one man I found myself a little fascinated by.

Henry. Howard. Holmes.

*Why?* Because he was numero uno.

America’s *first.* The guy invented the trade. He set the benchmark, you know?

Learn your history, Munday. Read a book.

You think because I stuck a blade in some people and get off on it, I’m not smart?

I, heh… ‘allegedly’…killed 13 people before you got smart enough to find me…

END TAPE

TAPE TWO

…had to build my own little castle, just like Holmes did.

Most people like me do their business where their target lives. That’s just *asking* to get caught.

Holmes had the right idea. It’s all about the honeytrap.

You bring me some smokes? Like I asked? *Lucky Reds.*

*Yes!* These are like *gold* in here.

[Sherman lights a cigarette and inhales] *Damn,* that’s good.

So yeah. The honeypot.

Holmes built a hotel about a mile from the World’s Fair and CALLED it the World’s Fair Hotel, and bought ad space in the papers alongside ads for the expo. Rubes from far and wide assumed it was the official hotel!

Ma and Pa Kettle take a train in from *Nebraska*, takes three days, they roll up into that joint ready to rest, get to their room…and *whoops*—what do ya know…Holmes had a gas pipe hidden under the bed and poisons them.

Or maybe he pulls a trap door on them.

Maybe he separates them and makes one watch through a window while he slits the other’s throat.

That’s the advantage of a honeypot: no shortage of targets. Heh…

That’s why I picked all those houses north of the airport. That whole neighborhood was scheduled for demolition, and yet…all those lovely realtor ladies must not have gotten the memo.

Call up as a contractor, tell them I’m flipping, have them meet me out there…and look at that…we’re the only two people for miles.

The first couple times, I’d wait for a plane to fly over, just to hide their screams, but…after a while I realized, they could scream as loud as they wanted. No one was gonna hear a thing.

That’s what I remember most. Those *screams.*

You can try to understand why I am the way I am. You can forensic science up all the data you want. But you’ll never know…

You’ll never know, Munday…

You’ll never really know how it feels when you watch the fire *burn* out of somebody.

END TAPE

TAPE THREE

[Sherman laughing] A whole carton this time? You trying to get on my good side or something?

Yeah, I uh…I think I’ll save them.

What? No questions? What’s going on with you, Munday?

You seem different.

Oh…[Sherman laughing] I see that glimmer in your eye, you little devil.

I can keep secrets, man…we all have them.

That prosecutor is trying to get numbers out of me. Know that?

Of *course* you know that. *Numbers.*

They got Holmes for 27…but we know he was closer to 200, right?

Can you imagine that? I wish I’d had the time to try and beat that.

Sure, they know about those nice realtor ladies…they got families, after all.

But the numbers the D.A. is asking me about…I think he knows there’s some people out there—rejects…misfits…the kind of people that when you see them coming, you look the other way. Does anyone notice if they go missing?

My father always told me to leave my mark on the world.

I never know what he meant by that — not until I watched that first girl bleed out.

*I* call it *art.* That’s my signature on society.

It’s not murder, it’s an aesthetic response to what this world has made me.

Ask people to list serial killers, and they’ll drop five, ten on you before they can’t think of any more.

Ask them to name the detectives that caught those killers — no one is going to say a damn thing. No one knows. No one *cares.*

No one makes movies about *them.*

No one puts their faces on t-shirts.

No one gives a shit.

[Sherman laughing]

[Sherman sighs, pleased] I’ve left my mark on the world…have *you?*

END TAPE

TAPE FOUR

You want to know what it means to be a killer? You ever been to the art museum downtown?

They got this painting by a guy…I forget his name. Famous painter.

He did portraits of slaughtered cows hanging on hooks.

You take a normal person to a slaughterhouse and they will puke their guts out.

You make it into a painting, and suddenly it’s *art.*

There’s no difference between the two. [Sherman grunts] Not really.

Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right.

You get it. I *know* you get it.

You got to do something that matters. Make people feel something they’ve never felt before.

Shatter the illusion that any of us are really in control.

Think of the most profound thing you’ve ever done…the most beautiful thing you’ve ever created…and I promise you…it’s *nothing* compared to watching the life bleed out of someone.

To see the fear in their eyes, to feel them pawing at you for release, to hear them pleading — *begging*…

That *moment*, when someone realizes they are at their end…that’s when you *feel* it. That’s true art.

That’s what you have to be — an artist…a sculptor…an architect.

[Sherman exhales smoke] I see the gleam in your eye, Agent Munday. You’re not fooling me.

[Sound of a chair scraping, Hector exclaiming as he punches Sherman]

Oh, look at you now, huh?!

[Hector breathing heavily in background]

Am I going to be your first?

[Sherman yelling] Well come on then — I’m right here! This room is soundproof — you don’t even have to wait for a plane to fly overhead.

[Hector exclaiming, sounds of a struggle, Sherman grunts and groans in pain, more aggressive sounds of Hector beating Sherman]

[Sherman breathing heavily] There…there you are…I see you now.

[Hector punches him again]

Not bad…not bad at all. Bare hands can feel good, huh?

But the blade makes for such a prettier picture.

[Sherman panting quietly] You’ve got potential, Agent Munday…if you truly want to be an artist.