Categories > Games > Undertale
Frisk looked at the note in utter shock and surprise. Their hands shook as they looked it over, reading frantically. They would never write something like this. Yes, the guilt from the resets and genocides had been weighing on them, but it wasn’t nearly enough to bring them to suicide. The most frightening thing about the note was that it sounded like it was something they would say. Not only did the handwriting match theirs, but the way things were phrased and the things they said sounded so much like them. The note used phrases only Frisk used, making the writing sounding incredibly like them, and that unsettled them immensly.
Their hands were shaking terribly. Tears of confusion and fear welled in their eyes. They hesitantly put the note into their pocket, out of view and stared at their hands, turning them over. They looked real, showing no sign that Frisk could be dead. They looked away from their hands and dried their eyes with relief. There was no way they had committed suicide, it was just a false alarm. Probably just a threat. There were monsters who still didn’t enjoy the child’s presence and Frisk had become used to their empty threats.
Frisk left the bedroom that Toriel had loaned to them and went down the stairs. “Mom?” they asked quietly, looking around the small house. However, they found no one there. The house was empty and cold without Toriel’s presence, and Frisk shivered. They figured that the goat monster was outside in the Ruins looking for snails, so they sat down at the table with a sigh, and waited for Toriel’s arrival.
Frisk tapped their feet quietly as they waited, wondering where Toriel could be. The child had heard of snail-hunting spots, but had always opted out on going to them with Toriel. They also hummed quietly to avoid being surrounded in the thick silence. They waited patiently, but as time went by, they grew more bored and more curious. It wasn’t long before Frisk slid out of the chair and went outside to search for Toriel.
The Ruins were quiet and peaceful, no monsters making any appearances. Frisk found it odd that there were no signs of life, but continued looking for Toriel, their determined personality allowing them to push through unfazed. Oddly, they felt lighter walking through the Ruins, like they were able to move faster, and they didn’t trip on the rocky terrain at all. They called out for Toriel a few more times but got no answer. They looked in every favorite snail-hunting spot, but Toriel wasn’t there. It was like she had left the Ruins completely, something Frisk couldn’t imagine Toriel ever doing.
Frisk headed back to the house, deciding to check to see if anyone was in Snowdin. On their way back, they came across a lone Froggit that was moving sluggishly. “Hello there,” Frisk said to the Froggit, leaning down to be eye-level with the monster. Frisk hated being taller than anyone, and luckily, they were built to be short.
The Froggit didn’t reply at all, and instead, turned and took a few hops away from them. “Such a shame, such a shame.” The Froggit croaked quietly as they began moving away. Frisk watched them in confusion but decided that the Froggit didn’t want to be bothered. They stood up with a sigh, not wanting to force an interaction with the monster, and went back to the Ruins, trying to piece little bits of information in their head onto why this was happening. They came up with nothing.
They went downstairs and opened the big door to Snowdin, squinting their eyes as the bright light blinded their vision for a split second. Frisk looked around, slightly surprised that they could barely feel the cold air. They figured it was just from their skin being used to the cold and carried on through the forest. Along the way, they had no encounters, nothing. No one even looked their way. Frisk felt a tad bit lonely if they were being honest with themselves. Why was everyone ignoring them? They looked around in confusion but decided to blow it off. Maybe it was a prank their friends were pulling.
Yes, that must be it.
Frisk made their way into Snowdin town and found that unlike the happy, cheerful town they knew, it was mostly abandoned and empty. Any monster that was out of their house or store seemed down and quiet. Heads kept low, and eyes blank, except for a few, whose eyes shone with tears. They weren’t talking to anyone, and simply just addressed other monsters with a quiet nod. Frisk tried cheering them up, but the monsters had no reaction to Frisk’s attempts. Despite their determined attitude, they soon gave up on their pitful attempts to get the monsters’ attention.
Frisk now had a new goal: to see what was happening. They planned to search the Underground to find their friends, hoping that in the end, they could get answers. The child checked the skelebros’ house and found nothing. All of Waterfall and Hotlands had the same reaction as Snowdin. Silent and numb, ignoring the bright child trying to get their attention. However, the determined child pushed forward, heading past the Core and the Lab, and going straight for New Home.
It was only when Frisk reached New Home, that they grew aware that the Underground was mourning a death. Frisk had no idea whose, and they couldn’t help but admit that they were curious. Everything had seemed disorienting at first, and the child was glad they could piece a few things toghether. Frisk headed deeper into the city, heading to the Royal Graveyard. The child figured a guard had died, seeing how New Home had fallen into a deeper depression than the rest of the Underground. It didn’t explain why the monsters were ignoring them, but that didn’t matter.
When they reached the Royal Garden, Frisk was not prepared for what they saw.
Their body.
The funeral was them.
Frisk tore their eyes from the scene to look back at the suicide note. They looked back at the body being lowered into the grave, and caught sight of purple marks on their neck. Rope marks. It had said in the note that Frisk was to hang themselves. Trembling immensly, Frisk ran to the nearest form of water to glance at their reflection. They too, had the same purple marks, except fresh and red.
They felt their neck in fear, but felt no pain. Frisk looked at their hands and found them pale. The child tried checking their pulse. Nothing. The note had been right.
Frisk was dead.
Their hands were shaking terribly. Tears of confusion and fear welled in their eyes. They hesitantly put the note into their pocket, out of view and stared at their hands, turning them over. They looked real, showing no sign that Frisk could be dead. They looked away from their hands and dried their eyes with relief. There was no way they had committed suicide, it was just a false alarm. Probably just a threat. There were monsters who still didn’t enjoy the child’s presence and Frisk had become used to their empty threats.
Frisk left the bedroom that Toriel had loaned to them and went down the stairs. “Mom?” they asked quietly, looking around the small house. However, they found no one there. The house was empty and cold without Toriel’s presence, and Frisk shivered. They figured that the goat monster was outside in the Ruins looking for snails, so they sat down at the table with a sigh, and waited for Toriel’s arrival.
Frisk tapped their feet quietly as they waited, wondering where Toriel could be. The child had heard of snail-hunting spots, but had always opted out on going to them with Toriel. They also hummed quietly to avoid being surrounded in the thick silence. They waited patiently, but as time went by, they grew more bored and more curious. It wasn’t long before Frisk slid out of the chair and went outside to search for Toriel.
The Ruins were quiet and peaceful, no monsters making any appearances. Frisk found it odd that there were no signs of life, but continued looking for Toriel, their determined personality allowing them to push through unfazed. Oddly, they felt lighter walking through the Ruins, like they were able to move faster, and they didn’t trip on the rocky terrain at all. They called out for Toriel a few more times but got no answer. They looked in every favorite snail-hunting spot, but Toriel wasn’t there. It was like she had left the Ruins completely, something Frisk couldn’t imagine Toriel ever doing.
Frisk headed back to the house, deciding to check to see if anyone was in Snowdin. On their way back, they came across a lone Froggit that was moving sluggishly. “Hello there,” Frisk said to the Froggit, leaning down to be eye-level with the monster. Frisk hated being taller than anyone, and luckily, they were built to be short.
The Froggit didn’t reply at all, and instead, turned and took a few hops away from them. “Such a shame, such a shame.” The Froggit croaked quietly as they began moving away. Frisk watched them in confusion but decided that the Froggit didn’t want to be bothered. They stood up with a sigh, not wanting to force an interaction with the monster, and went back to the Ruins, trying to piece little bits of information in their head onto why this was happening. They came up with nothing.
They went downstairs and opened the big door to Snowdin, squinting their eyes as the bright light blinded their vision for a split second. Frisk looked around, slightly surprised that they could barely feel the cold air. They figured it was just from their skin being used to the cold and carried on through the forest. Along the way, they had no encounters, nothing. No one even looked their way. Frisk felt a tad bit lonely if they were being honest with themselves. Why was everyone ignoring them? They looked around in confusion but decided to blow it off. Maybe it was a prank their friends were pulling.
Yes, that must be it.
Frisk made their way into Snowdin town and found that unlike the happy, cheerful town they knew, it was mostly abandoned and empty. Any monster that was out of their house or store seemed down and quiet. Heads kept low, and eyes blank, except for a few, whose eyes shone with tears. They weren’t talking to anyone, and simply just addressed other monsters with a quiet nod. Frisk tried cheering them up, but the monsters had no reaction to Frisk’s attempts. Despite their determined attitude, they soon gave up on their pitful attempts to get the monsters’ attention.
Frisk now had a new goal: to see what was happening. They planned to search the Underground to find their friends, hoping that in the end, they could get answers. The child checked the skelebros’ house and found nothing. All of Waterfall and Hotlands had the same reaction as Snowdin. Silent and numb, ignoring the bright child trying to get their attention. However, the determined child pushed forward, heading past the Core and the Lab, and going straight for New Home.
It was only when Frisk reached New Home, that they grew aware that the Underground was mourning a death. Frisk had no idea whose, and they couldn’t help but admit that they were curious. Everything had seemed disorienting at first, and the child was glad they could piece a few things toghether. Frisk headed deeper into the city, heading to the Royal Graveyard. The child figured a guard had died, seeing how New Home had fallen into a deeper depression than the rest of the Underground. It didn’t explain why the monsters were ignoring them, but that didn’t matter.
When they reached the Royal Garden, Frisk was not prepared for what they saw.
Their body.
The funeral was them.
Frisk tore their eyes from the scene to look back at the suicide note. They looked back at the body being lowered into the grave, and caught sight of purple marks on their neck. Rope marks. It had said in the note that Frisk was to hang themselves. Trembling immensly, Frisk ran to the nearest form of water to glance at their reflection. They too, had the same purple marks, except fresh and red.
They felt their neck in fear, but felt no pain. Frisk looked at their hands and found them pale. The child tried checking their pulse. Nothing. The note had been right.
Frisk was dead.
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