Undertale - Corrupted File.exe

    “All right,” Toriel said as she watched Asgore and Papyrus work together to move a bunkbed across the large room of the house the group had built on Mt. Ebott. With floor plans, it looked like Papyrus’s and Sans's house, except next to the stairs, there was an indent in the wall to form a door less room, where they were placing the bunkbed down. It was meant as a temporary room for Frisk until they built a few more homes.

    “Just a few more steps,” the female creature murmured. “One more…okay, you two can set it down.”

    With a grunt, they set the bunkbed down, both slightly exhausted. “Wowie!” Papyrus exclaimed as he leaned back against the wall in what little space was left between the wall and the bed. “That’s heavier than I thought it was—of course, it’s still nothing to the Great Papyrus!”

    Asgore seemed to huff in amusement. “Though I do agree it weighed more than I thought it would.”

    Toriel giggled into her hand. “I didn’t think the pillows on the upper bed would make it weigh much more.”

    Papyrus perked, and then looked at the top bed where a blue blanket covered over a mound. “Right, the pillows! We should get those in their proper places!” He reached for it, and then paused as he heard a chuckle, and a giggle. He raised a brow as he and Asgore looked at the blankets.

    Slowly, the skeleton reached out, and pulled off the blanket, only to hear more laughter as Frisk and Sans sat up. “What—”

    Toriel burst out laughing, leaning against the wall.

    Asgore looked at her, and then chuckled. “You were in on this!”

   “SANS!” Papyrus exclaimed as the smaller skeleton pulled the giggling child into his lap.

   “Yeah?” he asked innocently as the child turned their head, burying their face into his hoodie.

   “The bed was heavy enough as it is! You made it even harder! Honestly, you’re more lazier than I thought!”

    Sans smirked. “Oh, take it easy, Papyrus. After all, we barely even added—”

    “Don’t you dare Sans—”

    “Two skeletons to it.”

    “The Great Papyrus hates you right now.”

    The child and Toriel laughed helplessly before the child patted Sans’s skull, and then whispered to him. “Hmm…oh?” He looked to his brother. “Frisk said they’ll make spaghetti with you tomorrow to make up for it, how’s that sound?”

    “Really!?” he exclaimed, and then quickly regained his composure. “I mean—The Great Papyrus may accept your offer if he is free tomorrow.”

    Frisk clapped their hands happily as Sans set them down and jumped off the bed, while Asgore picked up the child and set them down on the floor, petting their head. They giggled, hugging his leg, before rushing over to Toriel, who knelt down, taking them into her arms. They beckoned her closer. “Oh?” she asked, before they whispered in her ear. She giggled. “Of course, Dear. I’m glad I could have helped you with this, and I must say, it was hard to keep from laughing before your reveal.”

    The king moved over. “It’s dangerous for you three to be in the same room together,” he joked. “Always creating little schemes.” The child snickered, smiling as Papyrus adjusted the pillows and blankets so that they would be ready when it was time to go to bed. He looked around at the bland house. Due to it just being built, the rooms were just bare wood panels. All that had been brought in was the bunkbed.

    However, that would change after they built the other houses. After those were built, they would worry about other furniture and appliances, though the kitchen did have some nonperishable foods in the one cupboard they had made for it, due to Frisk being a little kid who needed proper meals, and they didn’t want them having to go back and forth from the Underground. The taller skeleton looked at the bunkbed before a thought occurred to him.

    “Hey wait…” The others looked at him in confusion as he brought a hand to his chin. “This is a bunkbed, for Frisk…so who’s the other member? Everyone except Alphys and Sans are too big for this, but Sans already has his own room and Alphys is still in her lab, right?”

    Frisk nodded.

    “So who’s the other one that’s bunking with you then?” Papyrus questioned.

    The child smiled, and then raised a hand, pointing to the corner. They glanced over to look beneath a window where sunlight was streaming in. In a pot, was a golden flower which turned slightly when it felt stares on it. “What are you looking at?” Flowey demanded in annoyance.

    Frisk waved a finger at them with a ‘nuh-uh’. “Him!?” Papyrus exclaimed while everyone else shrugged helplessly. “But why?” Frisk came over, beckoning Papyrus to kneel, and then they whispered to him. “But he’s a flower, he doesn’t need a bed.”

    Sans snickered. “What, didn’t you ever hear of flowerbeds?”

    “SANS!”

    The child shook their head in amusement, and then murmured some more to Papyrus. “But I really don’t think you should be left alone with him…” Papyrus mumbled. They sighed as the kid continued. “Well, true, I guess he can’t do much with just a flower pot’s worth of soil. And yes, I guess if he had the lower bunk, he can’t climb up to you, and if he wouldn’t be hurt if he fell off…Yes, I know you have your stick if things got out of hand…I still don’t like it though…”

    Their response was to hug him, and nuzzle him briefly, before suddenly pulling on his hand. “Whoah! What’s the rush!?”

    Asgore chuckled. “I promised them we’d go see the pond we found yesterday.”

    “Hope you fall in,” Flowey muttered under his breath.

    The others looked at it oddly while Frisk hurried over and whispered to the flower with a giggle, before darting off as the flower whipped around. “If you dare drench me with that over world water, I’ll make you regret it! SOMEHOW!” He made an exasperated sound as Frisk got the water can by the door despite the threats.

    Sans suddenly smiled. “Hey, Frisk. Does, Mr. Take over the World need a ‘reign’ check?”

    They stared blankly, before they got it, and then laughed, shaking their head and making the okay sign. As terrifying as Flowey could be, he couldn’t do anything in a flower pot, and thus, was harmless. Plus, he was still in the sunlight. And like it or not, he needed water. They opened the door, hopping excitedly, waiting for the others to go out first. After everyone else stepped out, they waved goodbye to Flowey, and then hurried out to go see the pond.

    Sure enough, when Frisk came back, they watered Flowey. He made a loud fit the entire time, but they ignored it, even when he flailed his ‘head’ wildly to cause as much trouble as possible, even though the water had a soothing cool touch to him, and actually felt rather nice. He was simply too stubborn to accept it happily.

    When night came around, Frisk had made a nest out of the lower bunkbed’s blanket, and put Flowey in the center, making sure he couldn’t easily fall off the bed if he somehow managed to topple himself over. They patted his head, wagging their finger out of his reach when he formed his razor sharp teeth. The message was clear. No bite.

    Flowey growled his annoyance while Frisk grabbed their stick and climbed the ladder. Then,  they wedged their stick between two bars of wood as Toriel made certain that there was no way in heaven that Frisk could somehow roll off, so it had a mini set of bars like a crib would. The child grabbed the bars and then leaned forward to see Flowey, their hair falling down with gravity. The flower glared at them in return. They waved, and then ducked out of sight, finally going to bed.

    The monsters weren’t in, and actually, wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. Toriel and Asgore would be in the castle, sleeping in their private rooms, and the skeleton brothers were off gathering wood. Frisk had promised to keep the door locked and to not come out until they returned. Even if they wanted to stay, there was nowhere else to sleep but the floor as the only bed was Frisk’s. In short, it would be just Frisk and Flowey until morning. Not that it really mattered, it would take a large animal to bust in.

    Frisk breathed out softly as they got comfortable. Tonight, it was Flowey sleeping below them. They had asked for a bunkbed because of him, yes, but it was in the hopes that one day, instead of a flower, they would be bunking with a little boy with a tender heart. Of course, they dare not say a word about it to Toriel, but they had a feeling that Asgore already knew…and maybe Sans. He was the type to figure those things out without much effort.

    Eventually, they fell asleep, and the night dragged on. Flowey slumbered as well, his head bowed, bobbing slowly as he breathed. Sometime during the middle of the night, a shadow fell over Flowey. He stirred and opened his eyes to see a child standing by the bed, silently looking at him with those usual nearly closed eyes. “What are you doing?” Flowey muttered. “Go back to bed, Frisk.”

    They smiled, and opened their eyes. Flowey began to tremble, his own eyes widening as red crimson orbs lit in the darkness of the home. “Frisk?” they asked, giggling softly. “Oh, prince, we know that isn’t my name.”

    “Y—yo—you,” Flowey stammered, quivering harshly. “H—how are you?”

    They held up a key chain with a smirk. “Tell your family that using the same key from the former house is stupid…or was that not the question? How am I here in this reset?” they asked, smiling widely. “Oh, clever Flowey. Going onto the brink of death, and as you died, you slid into another save. Yes, you trapped me in a dying ‘file’, let’s call it that. Sure, put me where you’ll never tread again.”

    “Y—you got out—how?” he demanded weakly. “I never touched it again after I escaped.”

    They smirked. “It was all you, Flowey. When you fought sweet little Frisk with your beast…” The red eyed child chortled softly. “Save and reload, save and reload. Remember when they stopped working?” They smirked. “When those files corrupted, it affected mine too. I got out, and I got to this one. And now…”

    They picked up the flower pot, cradling it in an arm, knowing the flower was too frightened to even struggle with them, plus in the pot, he was harmless. He only had a few inches worth of dirt, and nothing to work with even if he tried to fight back. All he had were his teeth, but they weren’t all too concerned. They turned, stepping away from the bunk bed, and grabbed something in their spare hand.

    If Flowey had a heart, it would have been hammering in his chest as he saw them raise it. The real knife. “Recognize this, Prince?” they asked. “Yes, I tried to kill you with it. Well, sadly, you got away. Time to finish the job now that you can no longer reload.” They raised the blade, a glimmer of moonlight bouncing off it. Then, they plunged it down.

    There was a cry. A snap. A grunt. And the sound of shattering ceramic as Flowey was dropped to the ground, the pot breaking. The flower turned, eyes widening. Frisk had woken, and taken their stick before launching off the bed and crashing down with such force that when their stick met the other’s head, it snapped. Frisk panted, grasping what was left of the stick as they breathed harshly. They rarely ever attacked, and it stunned them that they had to in the moment.

    However, the other one got up, rubbing their head briefly before turning. “So this is Frisk?” they asked with a laugh. “My, my. I hope that wasn’t the best you’ve got.” With a cackle, they lunged and tackled the other child, ramming them against the bed. “Just some easy Execution Points, you pathetic twerp!” They took their blade, swinging it down. Frisk gasped and rolled before leaping away, tumbling across the floor before lunging their feet.

    However, the other child was just as swift, and a moment later, Frisk shrieked in pain, a blade in their shoulder. They dropped to their knees, tears flowing freely doing their face as Flowey watched helplessly from where they had fallen. “What? Don’t you have any endurance?” They snorted. “Good lords, you have no level of violence, no wonder you’re hardly a challenge.” They snickered as Frisk tried to crawl away. They took the blade, and ripped it out, causing Frisk to shriek and fall down flat. “You can’t run away from me!”

    “C—Chara!” The red eyed child turned to see Flowey propping himself on the floor, surrounded by dirt and ceramic shards. “It’s me you want, right!?”

    They stared, and slowly smirked. “Oh? Got a heart now?” They turned, looking demonic as they tilted their head with a wide smile, their red eyes glowing as they held the bloodied blade. “Don’t worry, you’re next. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s not just you I’m after. I’ll see this world to Hell once I’m done with you two. We both know I have the power.”

    Chara turned with a frown as Frisk whimpered something. “What was that, runt?” They knelt, cupping an ear. “Oh, who am I?” They laughed. “An old friend of this Prince. We once destroyed a world together…until he realized I was stronger than everyone—including him. So he fled like the coward he is.”

    They grabbed the collar of Frisk’s shirt, and yanked the wounded child up. “As for you, I’ll take you down slowly,” they practically purred, before tossing them against the wall. Frisk gave a pitiful squeak as they fell to the floor, trembling. Flowey stared, eyes wide in horror as he watched.

    He couldn’t fight—heck, he could hardly move! There was no way he could help! He looked around. Frisk didn’t even have a weapon now! The room was bare—there was nothing else. Think—think—! His eyes landed on the door, and that was when Flowey noticed that it was opened—just a crack, but regardless, it was open. If he could get out there where there was a good amount of soil…he had a chance to survive.

    The flower winced as another shriek met his ears. They whipped their head around to find that they had stabbed the child. Frisk sobbed pitifully, not wanting to fight, and now unable to fight as Chara slowly whittled down their health. They were taking only one bit of health away with every strike, enjoying every bit of their crying and screaming; whimpering and moaning, sobbing and blubbering.

    Chara went to pull back the blade, and frowned when they found it was stuck. They went on tiptoes, and laughed. “Oh, wow! I got it into the wall, no wonder it’s not budging!” Flowey all but cringed, barely remembering a painful sensation like that. He had to move…and with that, the flower literally began inch worming his way across the floor, with only bits of soil still clinging to his roots.

    Frisk whimpered, but caught sight of Flowey. They didn’t know what his end goal was, but if Chara came to kill him, then at least if they distracted Chara, he could get away, so they continued to cry. Not that it was hard to do. “Oh,” Chara cooed. “Is the precious little baby hurt—well too bad! In this world of to kill or be killed, you took the wrong path! You’re weak, you’re pathetic, all because you think you’re so special and can’t hurt a soul!”

    Flowey frantically moved, but he was barely making any progress. Oh blast those skeletons, if only the bedroom had been by the door! He couldn’t stop though, if Chara caught sight of him, he was done for. He oddly felt sick though as Frisk shrieked. “Oh, hey, I got it loose. Hope you didn’t need that blood through. My, you’re ruining that pretty shirt with it.” They paused. “Wait, on second thought…” They chortled. “I think red looks delightful on you!”

    Sixteen. Frisk was at sixteen. The child always knew how much their heart could take. Sixteen more hits—they cried out. Fifteen. The pain hurt more than anything. They tried to struggle. Without a weapon, they couldn’t fight. They didn’t have health items on hand because they didn’t think they’d need any now. Their choice of actions…there wasn’t any. And like with Asgore, there was no Mercy option for them to even attempt.

    Chara laughed, stabbing at them over and over. They avoided the head though as they whittled down their health. The blade cut into their arms and legs, but it was mainly their torso that Chara took pleasure in dealing wounds. It hurt, they couldn’t stop crying and screaming. Ten, it was ten now, and they couldn’t do anything as Chara kept them against the wall.

    “My!” Stab. “My!” A scream. “Aren’t you weak!?” Slash. “You’re like that kid!” Screech. “Easy Execution points.” Thud. Five. “You.” Four. “Are.” Three. “Going too.” They raised the blade. One. “DIE!” Squish.

    Frisk shakily looked up, only to gasp in horror as a spiked vine protruded through Chara’s chest. Chara stared down in surprise before both children turned to the door. Flowey was just outside, placed in the soil, panting in a panic. Chara looked back down, and then growled. “Annoying little thing, aren’t you?” they asked as their shirt started to be stained with red.

    The vine yanked them out of the house as Frisk fell to the floor, and the vine coiled tight. However, despite what should have been pain, Chara smiled. “Go ahead, Flowey, go kill me. I may not reload in the way I used to but…” They laughed. “I’ll be back, that I promise.” Something snapped in the flower, and the vine squeezed tight. They went limp, but their body simply faded out of existence.

    Flowey breathed shakily, staring in utter horror. They were back—how!? This wasn’t a tainted file! In the house was the pacifist—how was this one able to move through worlds like that!? They—wait—FRISK! A thornless vine reached into the house to grab the child as a bed of flowers sprouted. They gently laid the child down. “Frisk!”

    The child’s eyes fluttered open, before they smiled weakly, and gave him the okay sign. “OKAY!? YOU CALL THIS OKAY!?” They nodded and held up a single finger. “I don’t care—how do you restore health!?”

    They pointed to their mouth as they opened it. “Food? What kind of—” Flowey perked, and then had his vine enter the house again, fumbling around the counter, until he finally managed to bring something forth. He paused when he found that it was just some monster candy, but he gave it to Frisk anyways. They slowly took the candy, and put it in their mouth. They ate it, and swallowed. To Flowey’s surprise, a good amount of the wounds had healed just from that little treat.

    They beckoned him closer, and murmured to them. The flower flinched and looked away. “They’re…they’re a mistake…something that shouldn’t exist in this reset…” His eyes narrowed. “They’re my mistake.”

    Frisk wanted to ask more, however, they still seemed exhausted, their little chest shakily rising and falling. Flowey sighed in relief. Then he focused. If the brothers were still on the surface, his abilities would find them. Then they could come back. Frisk would be all right…

    They had to be.