I was told by my beta to put this here. Warning parts of this fic might trigger those with disassociation disorders or tendencies. Read at your own discretion and hopefully enjoy.

She said that it was dangerous in the ruins. That there were things that would hurt them and other children that fell in. And she was so loving and caring that they couldn't help but believe her and want to help.

So they killed all the monsters in the ruins.

It… it was hard at first. The… the monsters didn't seem all that dangerous or like they actually wanted to fight. But the child was committed. They had to be. They wanted to help after all. Though they couldn't explain the the warmth they felt in their heart as they committed their acts.

Though the large warm house and home-made pie seemed to just prove that it was all worth it. They still missed their own home though. Even if it lacked a loving mother like Toriel. A mother who eventually chose to bar their way to protect them to prove they were strong enough to make their way through the underground. Prove that they could survive.

So to prove themselves to the woman they were already seeing as a mother figure, they decided to hit her once. Just once. That ought to be enough right?

With just one hit… Toriel was dead. Her dying breath used to laugh at the cruel irony of the situation.

The child's mind reeled and shut down from the shock and horror. They hadn't meant to do that. They didn't WANT to kill her! Hadn't meant to! It had been an accident!

They didn't return to their senses until they shook hands with a short skeleton… who had been concealing a whoopee cushion in their hand the whole time. Such a trick would be thought of as mood lightening, and even funny. Usually.

However the child's mind still felt… fuzzy. Their whole body felt numb. Like they were already… detached from it. From the whole situation. Nothing seemed to stick, even though the child was sure something had to. Even though the child WANTED something to.

However… nothing did.

Not the talks between the skeleton brothers. Not the attempts at puzzles. Not even the deaths that the child went on to cause. Nothing stuck. Everything was pointless.

At least until the taller brother, Papyrus, called them out as they were leaving the ghost town called Snowden.

He… he offered friendship and forgiveness. This monster that barely knew them, and had only seen bad impression after bad impression, wanted to help them become better. It filled their heart with joy. With hope. So much so that they ran towards the skeleton who held his arms wide. In response they flung their own arms out in order to embrace the kind monster.

Only to watch in horror as Papyrus' body turned to dust, and his head fell to the ground with a look of confusion on his face. The child's face twisted into a look of horror as they turned their eyes to their hand, and the dust covered knife that was held within it. How? Why? They hadn't even THOUGHT about attacking Papyrus. Didn't even remember drawing their weapon. They… they hadn't wanted to kill him. Right? And yet… they had. Just like with Toriel. They… They killed him. With the ease of swinging their arm.

Even as the dying monster said that he still believed in the murderous human's ability to be better, the child sank into themselves. Their body became more numb. Their mind was filled with a strange haze.

From then on it was like they were watching through someone else's eyes. Like their body wasn't their own. Like all they could do was watch as their body took action after action. Life after life.

And with every life taken, things got cloudier and cloudier. The ability to think, to consciously move, got farther and farther from their grasp. To the point where when they stood before a monster child that stood up to them, even though the child willed themselves to turn around and just walk away, their hand still lashed out to strike the young monster down.

Even when another monster jumped in the way, and proved themselves stronger than the others, proved able to do what the child could not and end their rampage... it still didn't work. The child found themselves alive once more and going right back into the fight, with all the knowledge of their previous fight and going at it again and again until they stood victorious.

No matter who it was. No matter what seemed to happen. It all just all blurred together from one murder to the next gleeful murder seemingly without end. No matter how much they desperately wished it to stop.

That is, until they once again stood before Sans. Their judge, jury, and if he had his way, executioner. The lazy easy going skeleton was actually quite the able fighter. Though he didn't lose his easygoing nature it seemed. Even as he effortlessly dodged knife blows, and dished out attacks that tore through the child's defenses, he talked. Like he was chatting with an old friend, even though they only met a handful of times.

That talking… it stirred something within them. It made them feel. Even as their body and soul were torn asunder again and again. They found a new will to struggle on. To fight their own body for control.

And then Sans offered to spare them. THAT right there was what finally gave them the strength to succeed. To be able to push through the haze, and the force that had taken control of their life. Had given them the ability to drop their knife upon the ground, and stomp on it hard before kicking it behind them.

It was this skeleton's words and actions that gave them the resolve to run toward them with tears of joy and gratitude streaming from their eyes. To hug them tight. And it was the reason that when the bones pierced their body once more, they didn't scream in pain. They didn't gasp at the betrayal. They smiled. Because this time, they CHOSE to die.

Frisk woke up among golden flowers in the middle of a cave. They sat up with a start and gazed around from their position in the flowers. With great disbelief they stared down at their hands. Then they clapped. They blinked before they balled their hands into fists. Then made them into peace signs.

They stood up and jumped. Once. Twice. That was when the tears started to fall. They were in control. Even as they wept, laughter tore itself from Frisk's throat. Their gaze once more took in the cave and a sense of familiarity came over them. They… they were back at that first cave. Back at the beginning again.

The tears came down with renewed vigor even as Frisk wiped his eyes with the sleeves of their sweater. They… they had a new chance. They could do everything differently. MAKE everything better. And they would.

As Frisk left that cave room and spotted a very familiar flower, they swore to themselves that this time… this time they would do it right.