((There is.. triggering content ahead. Some illusions that some folk don't see for what they are. And later some things that are very much not illusions. Enjoy!))

He scrambled into his ceiling nest when he heard the bar over the door moving, going still and listening intently as the chamber was opened, multiple footsteps entering. He could hear sounds of disgust as humans filed into the room- his room. Too many to risk attacking.

Fresh shuddered as a deep, luxurious voice spoke with anger. "How did this happen."
He shook his skull to rid himself of the strange feelings the voice filled his mind with, another, far lesser one rose up, choking with the telltale sounds of nausea.
"His throat appears torn open, Your Majesty."

The growl that came next sent shivers down his spine, afraid to peek at the source.
"Clean this."
With that, footsteps quickly departed.
"But what of the-" "Quiet! It may wake!"
"What if it's watching us now?" Two remaining voices argued in undertone.

Fresh peered through the entrance of his nest, seeing a pair of humans nervously hefting up the corpse that was serving as his food, carrying it towards the door. He made a decision.
They were taking his food, so he would find more elsewhere. Clearly they didn't understand that he needed to eat.
Or maybe they did.

Either way, he soundlessly made his way to the door, it swinging shut before he could find a way out. He scowled at it, but no more. He didn't hear the bar slide back into place. They either didn't bother or intended to return shortly. He settled down to wait, ready to jump out of the gap between supporting strings, wiggling in anticipation.

He did not have to wait long, the door opening and spilling light into the dark room as the men returned, hands full of cleaning supplies and weapons belted to their sides. The swords didn't matter. As soon as they had cleared the space and stopped staring at the ceiling, he leapt outside, landing with a faint click of bone on stone and skittering out of sight, taking in the view of the hallway, erisdar decorating many alcoves as he ran.

The hall was shockingly beautiful, the ceiling high above and arched like a cathedral, strange solid doors lining the walls as he raced by. Fresh flicked his tongues, searching for hints of food while hiding in corners.

Tense, he finally decided to scrabble up the walls, hooking his digitigrade feet and secondary hands into the small loops of the latticework surrounding the fluted pillars, finding a ledge he could run upon, staring at the ground from up high.

Fresh made his way into another corridor via said ledge, taste-smelling the air for anything that would lead him to food, to meat. He'd found a particular liking for it, even though he preferred sweets. Something about it made him crave it with an insatiable hunger reminiscent of his time as a parasite. It was strange, but not overly unfamiliar.

The architecture changed as he walked, forcing him to crawl along the wall when the ledge disappeared, tracking down the delectable scent of food, particularly beef. He liked beef. It was probably his favorite meat. Cows were delicious.
It was such a shame they were such kind creatures as well.

Fresh kept scurrying along the wall, barely sparing a glance at the artwork that was the castle. It didn't feel worth anything. He was sure it was going to be destroyed soon regardless. After all, he had been imprisoned here. Error would know. Error would devastate this place. He was a god, and Fresh himself a godling. It was a death sentence to anger them- and oh were they angry. He hadn't forgotten the rumble he'd felt when first ripped from his sister. Surely Galbatorix knew he was doomed the second he had them kidnapped?

He clambered down an elegant pillar in a smaller wing of the castle and pounced on a door, hanging off the knob and kicking it open before sliding inside. There, he found a large, cold and dark room filled with hanging, skinned carcasses. The floor was uneven, sloping into drains that reeked of old blood.

Fresh did not care. He simply leapt onto the bloodiest one, realizing quickly that it was a still-warm pig. He also noted that it was unexpectedly similar to a human in taste. Oh well. It wasn't beef, but it was still good. He needed it. Needed. It.

As he dug deeper into the belly, Fresh felt his scapula twitching uncontrollably, the sensation of something sliding around his bones before he finally paused, feeling something new.

Crawling out of the carcass, Fresh turned to peer behind him, finding strange, glowing tendrils emerging from his backside, laying flat and casting a faint fuchsia hue over the dull flesh he clung to. They.. reminded him of the limbs he used to have. They were only a bit pinker and luminous. He lifted one, twisting it around curiously before realizing they were essentially thick bundles of string arranged in the shape of a tentacle.

On a thought, the ends unwound, splitting into what looked like a thousand hairs as longer strands emerged from within. A somewhat horrifying sight. Fresh loved it. He set the end on the hanging pig, strings weaving into it like some kind of vein, letting him hang from just the one woven tentacle. How interesting. How disturbing. How fun.

He swung around, back inside the corpse so that he may safely feed, weaving his new appendages throughout it like some kind of parasite- a comparison made ironic given what he once was. Something in him decided that this hunk of meat would be a temporary nest, this room a hiding place for now until his father found him- or he was caught. And Fresh rather believed that he wouldn't be caught. At least, he'd escape detection until Error found him. Of this, he was sure.

With that thought, he adjusted the grip of his tendril-strings and settled down in the cooling intestines. His meat. It would not be so easy to tear him away from his food when he was literally inside and attached to it. That strategy worked well enough for him before.

. • ° 

Fresh blinked at his surroundings, immediately concerned. Where had he just gone..? The flesh was gone, leaving him exposed. He impulsively retracted the tendrils, disliking the feeling of them hanging in the air. The strings spun back into pseudo-tentacles and curled around his ribcage in a sort of attempt of modesty.

. • ° GORE WARNING ° • .

"Freshie.." A broken voice whimpered behind him. He flinched, spinning and freezing at the sight.
There, on the wall, was Chaos. The humanized Temmie was held up cruelly by familiar dark blue strings. The threads were too tight. Her hands were dark beneath the colored fur, as were her feet. Across her torso they were cutting deep into her flesh, blood just.. pouring with every breath.

He just stood there, shocked. How.. what? When?? She was..
"Chahoss?" The name fell out in bewilderment.
"Fresh, you-" She cut off with a wince, barely able to speak past the strings digging into her cheeks and pinning her head to the wall.
"Please just. Don't fight him. P-please. I. I can't. It.. hurts." Blood was running down her chin, as were tears down her sliced cheeks.

Fresh stared, unable to process what he was feeling. He just knew that it was bad. It was really bad. Part of it was fear, he knew fear.
"Wah hahp-hahn?" His words felt weak.
She only winced, groaning faintly. For a moment the threads seemed almost purple. Something felt off. "He didn't like you running away. He had.. they… Four." She closed her eyes with a shaky breath.

. • ° END GORE ° • .

"Ah. 'us wae. 'ust wae. Ai can-" He stammered under his breath, shuddering as he came closer.
"Ai bwaek et. Okies?" He nodded frantically, picking up speed as the heavy coppery smell intensified.

"Oh-hoh-ho!" A new voice made him stop cold. His Soul was hammering, body feeling frozen.
"What do you think you're doing, little rat?"
Chaos's eyes widened, then glazed over before something horribly familiar slithered around his neck vertebrae.

All of a sudden he was back on the smoky plains, Petal's frantic thoughts racing through his mind- live on beyond him, make the world a better place, Error will keep him safe and don't worry- don't forget him-
Fresh was screaming.

He was screeching continuously, thrashing in terror as he fought the blue threads. There was an irritated growl off to the side of him, but all he could think of was his skull being snapped off his body, of Petal begging him to remember his Frisk for him, remember him like he remembered each and every host he had, a host of memoirs in his mind, forgotten funerals of endless copies only he had known. Fresh screamed in anguish as well as fear.

What snapped him back to his senses was being pressed against a wall, arms tugged out of their sockets, legs pulled away until his body and limbs were hanging like morbid decor from the ceiling. He thrashed, horrified at the immobility. All he could do was cry, whimpering despite himself.

A familiar face grinned up at him, twitching slightly with hidden annoyance.
"You're really loud, little abomination." 404 giggled, glitching as he did so- before going very, very still, manic smile frozen on his face with his eyelights locked on Fresh.
"Do you want to play a game, little god thing?" He whispered excitedly.

Fresh frantically shook his skull, unable to look away from the threads tugging off that face.
"Awww, such a shame. I was hoping you'd agree! Guess not. Can't be helped, hahahahaheheheehee- oh boy!"
He was suddenly yanked closer to the psychotic skeleton, writhing against the closeness as 404's breath washed over his face, whispering harshly.
"I want to break you, little god.~" He sang sickeningly sweet.
"And he's going to let meee.~ Isn't that exciting?" The giggle that came next was depraved.
"He wants me to wake you up or die!"

Fresh stared, uncomprehending and gasping in terror.
"Ooooo, look at that. Are you scared? Oh, no need to be so upsetti.~ It doesn't take long! Or, well, Entropy doesn't take long. I will, though. Sure I know what I'm doing, it's been done to me-hee-heeee!" He spun away abruptly, cackling before falling eerily silent, staring at the floor. His backside was to Fresh, leaving him only able to see hunched, hooded shoulders.

. • ° BODY HORROR ° • .

He could only stare anxiously as 404 simply stood there, twitching slightly. Gradually, he could hear unnerving cracks and a crunch, the other's form somehow just.. expanding slightly beneath the hooded cloak, a hand lifting up to reveal no longer bones, but some form of hardened, royal blue material. It almost resembled some kind of shell.

404 finally turned slightly, revealing long, jagged mandibles protruding from his face. He finally faced Fresh with a too-wide grin, his eyelights somehow having split into four separate circles, clustered around each other in each socket like spider eyes. Fresh recoiled in alarm. Whatever this was just felt wrong.

His cheekbones split apart when he next spoke, revealing his second set of black teeth behind the first, voice lisping slightly as he hissed.
"Your favorite god issn't the only one who can change anymore, buddy. I can do it too! Sso can Hate, sso can Entropy, and you think jusst one god can take on three! Sstupid, sstupid little rat! Error'ss gonna die!" He sang and pranced around the room, stumbling and grunting as he doubled over, turning to hide his front.

Fresh didn't know what to do. He knew Error had discovered how to turn into something else, but seeing someone else change so grotesquely in front of him was mortifying. He was scared.

404 faced him again, something.. swelling out of his sockets, bulbous and round, eyelights gone. The lower half of his face was sticking outward somewhat unnaturally, something as blue as his threads poking from under his hood like some kind of horn.

His cloak slipped off his shoulders to reveal his torn shirt and a second pair of arms. They looked nothing like a skeleton, both distinctly insectoid. The hands appeared to be a single digit, pinching in on themselves. 404's breath wheezed as he next spoke.
"Did you know that all godss could do thiss?" He sounded excited.
"I ssure didn't! Hehee!"

All of them could do that?
It was horrifying to watch. Fresh shivered, realizing he wasn't crying anymore. He was stuck watching, glancing around to find Chaos was no longer there. She'd vanished.
"You can do it too!" 404 squawked out, sounding less and less like a monster and more like something more.. beastial.

Fresh felt his pulse speed up again as 404 drew closer, the strange long mandibles clicking around his skull as the other's face started stretching out.
"I'll make you do it." He whispered eagerly, breath nauseatingly wet. A skeleton shouldn't have such a moist breath. It sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't even hug himself, his own limbs were hanging a foot away, useless. Fresh could only curl his tail anxiously.

Suddenly, a clawed hand with serrated edges yanked him out of the threads, gripping his spine as 404's hood fell off, a freakish round shape growing from his backside like a swollen tail. Something tore through the front of his shirt, revealing to be jagged plates like armor, only a dark blue and chitinous. The horn-like protrusion turned out to be another plate sprouting off the top of his skull, pointing outward like a horn.

Fresh had the time to take all of these details in before something clawed viciously into his mind, startling a shriek out of him as he struggled to fight it off. His efforts felt pitiful as it seemed to work into his core.

404 only grinned at him as best he could, bones shifting to a silvery blue hue, swelling out as black shapes sprouted from his sockets- even as the pale blue spread between them. His upper jaw had split into another pair of denser, crushing mandibles, round with hollowed middles as they clacked experimentally.

He choked on a hoarse screech as pain jolted through him. It was as if he was being electrocuted, arcing through his bones as he became painfully aware of his surroundings. It was like he could feel them- or a muted part of him that always could had simply been slammed to the forefront of his consciousness. It hurt.

Fresh writhed in agony, gasping as it felt like his insides were melting. Everything was excruciating, made worse by the feeling of landing hard on the unforgiving stone floor. He distantly heard his skull cracking on the rock, felt something warm and sticky left behind.

It felt like his Soul was about to burst, sending waves of pain throughout the rest of him. Fresh was vaguely aware of his arms returning to him, hugging himself as if it would stop the pain. He could hear 404 cackling somewhere nearby. He hated him. He hated him. He felt like he was splitting apart, screaming endlessly, the high-pitched wailing bouncing off the walls.

His hands felt long, his body felt long, the tendrils no longer seemed present, everything becoming heavier and heavier. His jaw felt painfully loose, his legs felt disjointed and wrong.
The pain grew worse, like something was sawing down the length of his tail.
It was then that his mind winked out like a candle, unable to take anymore.

. • ° END BODY HORROR ° • .

. • °

He woke up feeling like a pile of bruised oranges, laying heavily on the floor. Fresh slowly blinked, staring at a small blue thread on the floor.
For a moment, he thought it was Error's.
The moment was short-lived.

Fresh scooted away from the string anxiously, only pausing when he realized he felt.. wrong. Just wrong. Everything felt off. Not like the form he was used to.
Not even like the form he once had.

He twisted around, wincing as the edge of his jawbone scraped against the ground before regarding himself.
A field of brown fur was what he saw. Oh. Oh boy.

Fresh blinked once, then twice, then stared harder. He had never had fur before. Peering around, he saw that he had wings as well, velvety and dark pink membrane stretching between fingers. He tried to extend one, but it brushed up against the wall. It was then he realized that it had a pair of fingers. Almost at the same time he noticed his lack of arms. He just had the wings.

He shakily pushed himself off the ground, wingtips brushing against the ceiling. He felt misshapen and a wretched ache filled his body, but otherwise he seemed okay.
He wanted to take comfort in that, but he felt too unsettled and nervous to do so.

Tilting one wing around, he stuck his face over the membrane to find that one: he had another pair of wings that lacked the little fingers and two: he had a bunch of weirdly jointed and small legs. It was like someone had made a spider's legs more mammalian and slapped a canine's paws on the ends.

Lastly, halfway down his back some odd dark, raspberry jam colored plates that ended near the tips of his.. two tails. Two. Their tips were layered in spines. In surprise, Fresh stared at them, slowly lifting the points up from the skin where they laid flat- then down again. The tips of each spike were a toxic pink, the rest fading to the odd pale mauve of his pebbly skin before that was covered by fur or plates further down.

((Lol I put a picture but didn't bother to put all that much effort into it.))

Fresh was still admiring his strange new form when a loud bang rang through the chamber, making him flinch as a large door swung upon, a hooded figure backing through it before shakily raising a hand and closing it. They leaned on the door then, letting out a long sigh.

He remained silent, terrified of whoever they were. Yet it seemed like the figure in the green jacket was ignoring him. So Fresh just watched, too tense to make a sound.

Eventually the stranger turned around to lean on the door- except they bolted upright at the sight of him. Fresh flinched slightly at that, practically thrumming with tension as he backed awkwardly into the wall.
".. What are you?" A human voice whispered. Something about the tone and accent were familiar, not entirely like that of Alagaësia.
Were they from the Multiverse?

Fresh could only shrug, given he wasn't entirely sure himself and was mute. His tongues felt thick and dry and his mouth was just long. Too long. It felt alien to him now. Teeth no longer clicked against each other but slid around one another.

The human shook their head, hand coming up to their forehead beneath the hood.
"I'm talking to a fucking animal. What am I doing."
Fresh grunted at that, shaking his skull. He wasn't actually sure if it still was a skull, especially when something on the back lifted up and he was suddenly hyper-aware of all the sounds in front of him.

"..Can you understand me?" The human asked hesitantly. Fresh nodded just as shyly, starting to realize they at least weren't planning on hurting him.
"Can you talk?"
He slowly shook his skull.

He noticed odd red eyes looking up from beneath the hood as they stared at each other.
The human then quietly asked.
"You.. wouldn't happen to know anything called the Multiverse, would you?"
At that, Fresh lit up, nodding frantically.
"Fuck, are you from it?"
He kept nodding.
"I've never seen anything like you in my life."
Fresh just looked away awkwardly.
"...Sorry, I've just been dealing with shit lately."

A moment passed in silence before Fresh hesitantly reached out, finding his mind wasn't restricted anymore. He touched thoughts with the stranger, pulling back when they flinched and glanced around in alarm.
"Fuck fuck fuck not again-" Came a frightened whisper.

Fresh paused, a little confused before he returned.
Again? He tentatively asked.
The other froze, uncomfortably still.
After a long moment, the hood fell down to reveal tousled brown hair and red eyes that stared at him distrustfully.

"Is that. Did you do that?"
He nodded. Can't exactly talk at the mo'. He explained softly.
"You can do that?"
It's really common in Alagaësia, actually. Dis is kinda normal 'round here.

"I- I thought you said you were from the Multiverse??"
I am, I just been here for awhile. Learned a lot. How long have you been here?
"I.. shit, how long have people ended up in this place? Do you know what it is? What the fuck's going on? No one is telling me shit except the Undyne and that.. lady skeleton. I've never even met a female skeleton before!"

They are kinda rare.. Fresh admitted, looking to the side.
"..Do you know what's going on?"
Now he blinked, hesitating.
I'm pretty up-to-date on events, but I dunno how long since dey took me here. Or where my pa is. Well he's kinda more of my ma but.. whatev. He sat down sadly. I don't even know where my sis is. Or if she good. I'm just. Scared. A lot…. Can ya move that string somewhere? Anywhere? I hate it.

The stranger was quiet, looking at the discarded, faintly glowing thread.
"Bad memories of the Destroyer?" He offered.
Fresh bristled, hissing. THAT AIN'T HIS STRING. THAT AIN'T HIM. FOUR WILL NEVER BE LIKE HIM.
He snapped his jaws angrily before pausing at the frightened look on the other.
I didn't mean to be all angry, I just. You don't know? He fidgeted, nervous.

It's just everyone being all "Error is bad, Error is evil" and stuff is just annoying me lately and I thought it was kinda obvi now dat he ain't 'cuz he woulda destroyed dis universe if he wanted. And Four, he.. he likes making him mad, hurting folks, killing folks, he tried to kill me before but now he turned me into this- I dunno?! What he make me into? And he turned into a weird bug thing but now he's gone and I'm this and I dunno how to turn back and I just wanna go.. I wanna go home. He shivered, going limp as he curled in on himself.

"...How old are you?" The stranger softly asked.
Fresh just shrugged. Complicated.
"How is that complicated?"
For a minute, Fresh didn't reply, only stared at the floor. Then he looked up slightly, studying the human.
"Are you okay..?"
He suddenly realized who he was staring at.
You're Shifty.

They blinked, recoiling slightly. "You know who I am?"
..Yeah, you're dat Chara from the real switched up universe. Not a lotta copies.
"Oh. Yeah. I guess you're right." They looked awkwardly to the side. Fresh sighed, working up the courage to speak.

I was a parasite.
"What?"
Like.. a million years or so? Dunno. Been a while. Drifted 'tween AU's a lot. But Four. He uh. Killed my last host here in Alagaësia and.
He impulsively shivered, reaching for his neck with wingclaws, finding soft fur there.
Error. Took me in. And I came back as a kiddo. With a Soul. It's.. funky. He found himself laughing humorlessly, soft and grating like porous rocks.
Now I'm this? He held a wing out anxiously.
And he hurt Chaos. Bad. Hurt her bad. Have you seen her? Did someone heal her? He practically demanded, dragging himself closer.

Shift backed away, hands raised as he pressed against the door. "I don't know anyone named Chaos."
She's a Tem, got turned all human-like. Torn ear, black arms, yellow fingers, red eyes? He whined softly.
The human only shook their head. "I'm sorry, I don't know."
Fresh whined louder, swaying side to side.

"I don't even know your name." Shift pointed out.
Pausing, he blinked at the human.
Fresh. I'm Fresh.
Shift leaned away from him then, eyes wide.
"What?"
Fresh hesitated, uncertain at the behavior. Now nervous, he shuffled back.
…Ya hate me, don't you.
"You're Fresh? The 90's Soul Eater? Aren't you supposed to be small??"
I got turned into this. He pointed out.

Shift slowly pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. "Oh hell… how is any of this possible? How can I even trust anything you're saying?? You're talking in my head- oh fuck what if I've snapped-" He panicked.
You're not crazy. Fresh assured him, leaning closer.

"How do I know?? You're literally a voice in my head saying you're…" His eyes flashed a hint brighter and he went stiff.
"You're not.." He stared hard at him.
"You're in my head, aren't you."
My mind is, yea. He blinked, not understanding.

Fresh was then recoiling as the other lunged forward, setting a hand firmly on his face. He peered awkwardly at the hand gripping his nasal cavity, fighting the urge to sneeze.
Why?
"You're real!"
And I'm boutta sneeze.

Shift stepped away, watching as Fresh squinted, leaning back until he snapped forward in a tremendous sneeze, painfully cracking his bony snout against the stone, yelping. He held a wingclaw to his face, wincing.

Glaring at Shift, he groaned.
Why are ya bein' weird?
"I thought you weren't real."
'Course I'm real. Ya ain't crazy.
"You said you're literally the Soul Parasite. Somehow. I'm not sure I even believe that."
I'm not a parasite anymore. Fresh deadpanned.
What's dat got to do with thinking I'm not real?
"I don't know, I just know you possessed others by crawling in their skulls and eating their Souls!"

At that, Fresh audibly scoffed.
What, like all at once? It took months, sometimes years, Brah. It's what bein' a parasite means.
"How do I know you're not trying to eat me?!"
You're human? I couldn't eat human Souls, they make me sick- and I could only possess skeletons? And I'm not a parasite anymore??
"Well excuse me for being a little hesitant to believe that." Shift scowled. "How exactly does one just become something else entirely?"

Fresh shrugged emphatically, feeling irritated at the conversation as he glanced at the door.
"So you're telling me. That you're Fresh. The Soul Parasite that's way too obsessed with the 90's."
The 90's are coolio! He interrupted with a whine.
"And you just.. turned into this? After your last host was killed?"

No, ya got it all wrong. I was just turned into this. I was turned into a skelekid first. I like being dat. And I dunno how I turned into this, Four just. He paused, looking nervously at the thread on the floor.
He reached.. in me. And everything hurt. And I passed out. And now I'm this. He angled his wingtips outward to demonstrate.
He stared at the door thoughtfully after that, anxious.

After a minute or so of bewildered silence on Shift's part, he spoke again.
Can you help me outta here?
"Why would I do that?" Shift questioned.
I don't wanna be hurt again. I wanna find Chaos and just. Leave. I don't know what Galbatorix wants but I don't wanna wait for Error anymore. He shivered despite being warm.
I'm scared they'll do something worse to Chaos. She was bleedin' so much…. I can get you out too! You don't gotta be here. It's bad. He'll probably make you swear to him and then you won't be able to leave until he's dead.
"No one's making me swear anything." Shift scoffed.

Fresh leaned close, shaking his skull. You don't know how magic works here. He will get in your head and make you say stuff. You won't know what it is at first but he's making you swear to him and those words are binding. Eïnradhin sem eru namar. Ono weohnata bidja mar wiol und.
Words that have power. You will beg but for nothing. He did it to Murtagh. He was our friend but when Thorn hatched for him, Galbatorix made him his puppet like Fate did to Error. He stressed fearfully.

Shift stared at him, mortified.
"..How?"
I dunno, that just how it works! We know Horror's Undyne woulda left if she could just like Murtagh. But the others… they're bad. Don't trust 'em. Hate will tell you whatever to make you scared, part true but mostly not, Four will just. I dunno. There's a new guy where everything 'bout him is reversed? I'd ask Daisy stuff, he didn't wanna be here.

Finished with his ramble, Fresh huffed and crawled to the door.
Still wanna get outta here.
Shift ducked away as he clawed at the door. The lack of hands was making it ridiculously difficult.
"How do I know you won't wreck havoc if I let you out of here?"

He locked gazes with the human.
Error's runnin' 'cross Alagaësia right now. He's coming here and he's gonna break us out eventually, but he'll leave nothin' but a smokin' crater. Don't matter the collateral. But you could let me out and buy time to get outta here with everyone ya can. I'll get Chaos without ya.
Shift went a little paler at that.
"Why would Error even want to save you?"

Fresh leaned a little closer. Ya really think if he actually hated me ever that he'd not just kill me? He's my ma.
"He's your mother?!"
He couldn't resist a low chortle at that.
Don't matter. Either he breaks everything saving us or we do it together. Galbatorix will die.

With a growl, he finally hooked a claw between the seam of the doors and pulled one open, immediately yanking the other apart and dragging his bulk into a hallway, huffing. His tails dragged raspily across the smooth, glazed stone floor as he sniffed the ground intently, tongues flicking.

Scents assailed him, some familiar, many not. He knew 404 had been down here, but that wasn't hard to discern when the psycho had literally stood before him and changed him into some thing. He also recognized Hate, a strange bitter, rotten apple smell mixed with the sharp scent of Determination and something simply acrid.
But those two were the only smells he knew. The rest were unknown.

Suddenly, he came across a hint of something he recognized, something far more comforting than all the other smells. Flicking his tongues rapidly, Fresh quickly found a direction, huffing frantically as he hunted down the source.

Studiously ignoring Shift following a little ways behind him, Fresh tracked his way through halls, ducking around corners and skittering away from patrols as he heard and smelled them approaching. At several points he found himself crawling along the ceiling and walls, hooking his claws and many paws into the numerable decorative banisters and metal curls. At his size he shouldn't have been able to do that, but he did.

Fresh finally came upon a darker hall, finding it a somewhat tight fit before a new scent caught his attention. Chaos.
He immediately scrambled after it, finding a greater speed than ever before as he sniffed. His nasal cavity wasn't the best sense of smell- not like his tongues- but it was enough to find his adoptive sister.

He came across a barred door, snarling and tearing it away before slamming into the door, ignoring how it cracked against the wall.
The sight that greeted him wasn't a good one.

The deja-vu inducing crazed blue eyelights slowly turned to face him, the owner still holding a sharpened bone in his hand, blood dripping from the end. Chaos looked up with wide, watery eyes, stiffening at the sight of him.

With a horrified cry, Fresh threw himself at the alternate of Blue, snapping before the other rolled out from beneath him. Something sharp stabbed into his side, forcing a shriek from him as he flailed and turned, wings smacking something hard before a tail struck the floor. He reached two paws to Chaos, ignoring her panicked whimpers as he dragged her away.

"You think you have the right to take my prey?!" Yandere was grinning, but the smile was wide and full of hatred. Fresh snarled back, curling around Chaos.
Summoning a semicircle of sharp bones, Yandere snarled back. "I'll kill you. Kill you!"

Fresh just let out a small roar, widening his stance in the cramped space.
Before anything else could happen, a red glowing blade shot handle end out from the side, cracking painfully against the back of Yandere's skull.
Eyelights winked out as he twitched, standing still.

A moment later he tipped forward, collapsing painfully against the granite floor. The attacks clattered loudly behind him, Shift standing by the door with a haunted look in his eyes.
"What. The fuck. Happened to Blueberry."
Dat's an alternate called Yandere. Fresh explained shakily, trembling as he held his sister closer.
Now silent, they all stared at the unconscious Yandere, unsure of what to do.

Then a low rumble shook the ground, faint and muted. Fresh perked up, listening closely as Shift went still. Something about it was familiar.
"...Daddy?" Chaos whispered hesitantly.

The only was a far louder guttering wail like a toddler's scream magnified and toned several octaves down. The screech had them all cringing and covering their ears, Fresh somewhat shocked to find he had ears.
A moment later they could hear echoes returning, interrupted by weighty thuds that rattled the walls. In-between the sounds was a terrifyingly loud and nearby growl that vibrated the air, full of so much hate.

Everyone shared a look with one another, horrified.
What creatures were capable of making such tremendous noises?
They were afraid to find out.