Author's Note IMPORTANT!!!!!!

What?! Zana is putting an Author's Note at the beginning of a chapter? What is this?!

Don't worry, I have a very good reason. This chapter is literally the darkest thing that I have ever written. EVER. This is the closest I've ever gotten to adult content, and probably the closest that I ever will. (Well... I have considered doing a Sans' soul sex one-shot sometime... but that's beside the point.)

So, this is your warning.

If you're under 14, or are especially sensitive, I highly suggest that only read part way into the chapter (I'll tell you when to stop).

However, if you're younger than 14, I'm not going to stop you from reading it. I mean, you all know what you can and can't handle, and I'm not about to start mothering you. I'll leave a comprehensive list of trigger warnings below, so read through those before you decide whether or not to read past the suggested stopping point.

If you do decide to skip it, there will be a synopsis of the chapter in the end Author's Note, telling you what you need to know without all of the gruesome details.

Trigger warnings: Neglect, Imprisonment, Abandonment, Rape (non-explicit but very suggestive), Yandere, Abuse, Cutting/Self-harm, Slave Trade, Discrimination, Suicidal thoughts, and attempted Suicide.

Your Perspective

The next thing you know... you find yourself standing in the middle of an empty expanse of nothingness, blackness extending for as far as the eye can see. Panic instantly consumes you, and you collapse to the invisible ground as the memory of your last visit here suddenly come rushing back to you.

You'd thought that you had managed to forget it—you haven't thought about your last encounter with Chara for weeks—but the feel of her knife in your stomach, across your throat... now that you're here again, you can almost feel your old wounds burning.

NO! No, no... nononono! Not here! Anywhere, anywhere but here!

You're back in the void, and you know that there is no escape. Until you wake up... you're at Chara's mercy. You briefly consider running, but you know that would ultimately be pointless. Chara is the master of this place—any resistance that you could offer up would do nothing but entertain her.

No. It's better to retain your dignity, and wait for her to arrive. You know that she's coming—her child-like laugh is already echoing through the void, and you can already feel that bloodlust of hers focusing on you. You take a deep, shaky breath, and get to your feet. No matter what she does to you, you're going to take it standing up. You won't give her the satisfaction of acting as terrified as you feel.

You don't have long to wait. A young child pops into existence in front of you, her ghost-like form slowly weaving back in forth in the air (or lack thereof). The first thing you register are her ruby-red eyes. Following soon after is the sight of her crazed, toothy smile.

"Charlotte."

Your greeting to her is nothing but a single word, as you're still trying to keep your voice from trembling. Her smile loses some of its width when she sees how (outwardly) calm you are, and she instead transitions into a glower.

"It's Chara," she corrects, gritting her teeth. "My name is Chara."

Somehow, you'd unknowingly struck a nerve by calling her Charlotte. That hadn't been intentional—it's just the name that you know her by. You still aren't sure how Charlotte and the girl standing in front of you are connected... but there's something about her that undoubtedly reminds you of the Charlotte that you once knew.

"I know," you say, continuing to force your tone to deadpan. "But to me, you will always be Charlotte."

Chara—no, Charlotte—balls her fists at your words, and her eyes flash briefly in anger. A knife suddenly materializes in her hands, and she takes a slow step towards you.

"Am I going to have to repeat myself?" she asks you, a false cheerfulness to her voice. She raises the knife threateningly, aiming it straight for your heart. "My name... is Chara. I was never Charlotte, and I will never be Charlotte. That was just an alias, and nothing more."

"So that wasn't you?" you ask quietly. The knife doesn't really scare you. Not anymore, at least—not when you know that being stabbed is inevitable. If she were to attack you, there's not really much you can do about it. "You talk like her, you sound like her... heck, you even act like her. Are you really going to stand there and tell me that wasn't you?"

She sighs, and gives you the most condescending look you've ever received in your entire life.

"Yes, that was me. But my name was never Charlotte. I was always Chara."

"So, let me get this straight," you say, completely disregarding the knife that she's holding to you. "You were the one that I was always talking to? And... you were the person that was once my best friend? I mean, did I ever know a Charlotte, or was it you the entire time?"

The knife disappears from Charlotte's hands, and she promptly puts them to use pulling at the skin under her eyes. She groans while she does this, letting you know that you're being a total doofus. Even this small action is reminiscent of Charlotte, and it only serves to confuse you further.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?" she huffs. "If you haven't figured it out already, I possessed a girl named Charlotte, and took control of her body. I kept her name, but everything she said, did, or thought... that was me. Me, Chara. Do you get it now? Or am I going to have to get you a manual?"

Her choice of words, the way she speaks, her tone... they're all so familiar. So familiar, in fact, that it brings back memories of your childhood...

~Flashback~

You were standing in the middle of your kindergarten classroom, surveying the assortment of toys that were stacked along the shelves. Out of all of them, though, there was only one toy that was worthy of your attention. To your young and untrained eye, it looked like a swing set—more specifically, a swing set for silver marbles. (Now that you're older, you can easily identify the object as a Newton's Cradle.)

The object was so strange and foreign that you immediately withdrew it from the shelf, and then marched over to the nearby table to try and figure out what you were supposed to do with it. After trying (and failing) several times to get the object to work correctly, you cried out in frustration, and in a fit of rage, went to push the object off the table.

Luckily for you, there was someone there to catch it.

"Woah!" the girl exclaimed. "What're you trying to do, break it? Be more careful."

She set it back on the table, and then went to walk away, her giant red ribbon bouncing in time to her steps. You watched her go, somewhat shocked that someone else had bothered to speak to you—every other child in the room was in their own little world, playing with some toy or another. For a moment, you had the urge to call out to her... but you decided against it. There was something about the girl that was bugging you... but you just couldn't put your finger on it.

You were about to turn back to the mysterious object that you had yet to figure out, but then the girl... hesitated. She looked over her shoulder at you, a strange emotion glinting in her eyes. You turned your attention away from the object again, instead trying to solve the mystery of this new girl. You hadn't yet met an emotion that you didn't understand. Unlike most five-year-olds, you were surprisingly good at reading the mood. This girl's mood, however... you just couldn't pinpoint it. You concentrated hard on her, trying to figure out what the emotion was.

The longer you stared at her, the stronger the girl's emotion seemed to become. Her eyes widened as she watched you study her, and a smile eventually crossed her face. She skipped back towards you, her wavy blond her bouncing with every jump. When she reached your table, she folded her hands behind her back and leaned over you, her grin widening. Now that she was close to you, you thought that you were starting to understand. This feeling that you're getting from her... it's somehow similar to the feeling your teacher gives off when one of her students asks an unexpected question. ...Interest.

"Are you having trouble with that toy?" she asked you, cocking her head to one side.

"Yeah," you said simply.

"Here, let me help you..."

She proceeded to explain the machine to you, taking a seat beside you at the table. You remember that you hardly understood a word that she said that day—she was using big words, words that a regular kindergartner wouldn't dream of knowing. Words like gravity, and velocity, and energy. By the time she was done, you were even more confused than you'd originally been.

"Now you try it," she told you, nudging the toy in your direction.

You looked uncertainly down at the toy, and then back up at the girl. Then you slowly picked up one of the middle marbles... and pulled it out of the line. When you let go, it collided with the other marbles at an awkward angle, sending flashes of silver in all directions. By the time the marbles settled again, the girl was pulling at the skin underneath her eyes, a pained expression on her face.

"I took all that time to explain it to you, and that's what you do?" she asks, a hint of a whine to her voice. "You really are an idiot, you know that? If you haven't figured it out already, there's no way you're going to make it to high school. Now, I'll explain it one more time—try to pay better attention."

She proceeded to explain everything all over again, this time demonstrating the complex physics concepts by making the marbles mover herself. You watched in awe as the marbles continued to go back and forth, their kinetic energy transferring seamlessly from one side to the other. Then she stilled the marbles, and turned to you.

"Do you get it now, or am I going to have to get you a manual?"

~End of Flashback~

That was the first time you'd met Charlotte—Chara—whoever that person was. Recalling that memory now, after everything that she'd done to you... it's painful. If the girl that's standing in front of you right now—this... Chara—is the person that you'd learned to trust over the years, that you'd learned to love over the years... then she's also the person that murdered your brother.

She's the person that had stabbed you in the back; rejecting the friendship that you had thought had formed between you.

And if Charlotte is Chara... then she's done much more to hurt you than you have ever imagined.

She's responsible for the genocide runs. She's forced your sister to kill, and she's the one that damaged Sans' psyche so badly.

She's done so much harm to this world. All you've ever heard about her is that she's killed, destroyed, murdered... but then, what are you supposed to think about all of those years between you? She had been nice to you. She'd stood up for you. She'd taught you things that not even your teachers fully understood. She was always there for you, and you had always been there for her. That person, the one that you know as Charlotte... just doesn't match up with this person in front of you; this person that has caused so much pain and suffering.

Was the bond that had formed between you real? Had it... meant anything to her? Or was it all just a lie? All of that time, had she just been manipulating you? Had you just been a means to an end for her? She had killed your brother, and she had possessed your sister. The fact that she had targeted your siblings, out of all of the people that she could have hurt... it couldn't have been a coincidence.

And that realization... the realization that all along, your 'best friend' may have been nothing more than a façade... it kills you inside. This, out of all of Chara's deeds, is the worst. Everything about your life, from kindergarten on... may have been a lie. Charlotte touched every single part of your life. And now, armed with the knowledge that she had never been truthful with you... every single part that she touched may very well be nothing but an illusion.

"...Why?!" you cry, your voice breaking. "I thought that you were my friend! I... Did I... did I ever mean anything to you?!"

Chara seems a little bit taken aback. Her smile falls, and for the first time since she first set eyes on you... she looks away.

"...No," she says. "No, you didn't."

Something inside you breaks at her words. Your hands fall limply to your sides, and tears that you hadn't even felt form begin to slide down your cheeks.

"Why?" you ask again, your voice hoarse. "Why me? What do you want from me?!"

"That's simple, (Y/N)," she says, her eyes showing no sign of sympathy. "I want your soul."

"My... soul?" you echo.

"That's right. All I want... is your soul. It's the last one I need."

"The last one you need... for what?"

"You always were a bright one, weren't you, (Y/N)? I'm fairly sure that the comedian has already explained all of this to you—I want to save everyone."

You blink. Chara never fails to confuse you—if anything, Sans had told you the exact opposite.

"Save everyone?" you echo numbly. "But... I thought..."

"This world is corrupted—it's nothing but a cesspool of misery and deceit," Chara continues. "People instinctively tend to put their trust and love into other people. Companionship is a basic human need, and like idiots, we all act on that need and latch onto whoever is closest."

"And what gains do we reap from it? Absolutely nothing. Those bonds always end up causing pain. Those bonds lead to abuse, neglect, manipulation... anyone is capable of selfish desires, and anyone, no matter how strong the 'bond' between then and another person, is capable of turning right around and scarring that person beyond recognition."

"Just look at our world—look at humanity. We're completely littered with sin. Arrogance, selfishness, racism, ignorance, alienation, arrogance, deceit, foolishness, intolerance, materialism, possessiveness, vanity, wrath... One way or another, all of these things happen because one person decides to betray the other. Humanity is the root of all evil."

"I want to erase this world, and save everyone that has ever had to experience any of these things, or the sins that stem from them. This world is dead. The only way to save everyone from the pain that comes from living, the pain that comes with simply being alive... is to destroy this diseased world, and move on to the next."

For a moment... you're tempted to agree with her. Life on the surface... well, it's screwed up. Before you'd fallen down, there wasn't a single news station that wasn't streaming some kind of tragedy. Cops being targeted and shot down. A man driving through a crowded street in an eighteen wheeler, intentionally running over as many people as possible. Suicide. Suicide bombings. Arson. Rape. Murder. A husband killing his own wife and children... the list goes on, and on, and on...

And then, there's your own life. Your "best friend" had turned on you, and had completely torn your family to shreds. Out of five people, only two of them had survived to recall the tragic events of your past. And out of those two, only one is still innocent to the true harm that had befallen your family. Murder was just the beginning. Then there was your parents cowardice, and then their neglect... and eventually, their suicide, without a second thought about the people they were leaving behind.

However... that doesn't mean that the entire world is evil, and that doesn't mean that everything should be completely erased. You've seen goodness in this world. You see it every time that you look into your little sister's eyes. You see it when you look at your friends in the Underground, and the love and care that they show the two of you—you two humans. Humans, who kill each other over wealth—a concept that has no value outside of what you place on it. Humans, who trapped the monsters underground out of irrational fear. Humans, the only thing that stand between them and their freedom.

They've only ever had your best interests at heart. Their selflessness, their pure-hearted goodness... it gives you hope. Hope that the world may yet be salvageable. Hope for your future. Hope for humanity's future. Hope.

Hope... something that Chara seems to be lacking. You concentrate on her, trying to figure out what drove her to all of this. Your soul can sense her pain. That's easy enough—her pain is overwhelming, like a tidal wave engulfing a single ant. You try to surf that wave as best you can, though, and search for something more specific.

"What are you doing?" Chara asks. You'd closed your eyes to help you concentrate, and you can hear her confusion in her tone. You can sense it at the same time, though, too—somehow, your soul seems to be picking up on it, and relaying the information to you.

"Ssh," you say quietly. "I'm looking for something."

Her confusion grows stronger. It glazes over her pain like oil over the ocean... but you disregard it. What she's feeling right now isn't the issue—you need to go deeper. You need to find the root of her problems. You search for something that you can separate from the mass of hurt... something that will give you clues as to how to help her.

Because... yes, you want to help her. Despite everything that she did to you, to your family... you just can't forget all the good times that two of you had together. She may try to deny it, but there's no way that all of that could be fake. Even hostages bond with their captors—after spending that much time with you, even if she had never intended to befriend you... she can't just feel nothing.

Everyone goes down the wrong path for a reason. And if that's the case... then everyone can be revived.

With that thought, you feel your soul leave your body. There's a power humming through you that you've never felt before, and with a sudden rush of energy, you dive into Chara's ocean of pain. Chara gasps, and then there's a flash of sky blue so bright that you can see it from beneath your closed eyelids. Your soul reaches out, and latches on to the first thought that it can find...

~Neglect~

(It's suggested that young or sensitive readers stop reading here. Skip down to the end for a synopsis.)

When you open your eyes again, the void is completely gone. You blink in confusion, and then carefully look at your surroundings, trying to figure out your whereabouts. You seem to be standing in a log cabin of some kind. You turn in a slow circle, and are more than a little surprised to find sunlight shining in through the cabin's windows. You're not sure how you managed to get out of the void—not to mention how you ended up in someone else's house, and on the surface—but since thinking about it will just give you a brain cramp, you decide to push your questions to the back of your mind.

Instead, you start to walk around the small two-room cabin, taking a closer look at it. The first thing you notice is how cluttered it is. Furniture is placed haphazardly throughout the main room, as if the owner had tried to stuff as much as they could into it, disregarding organization or even legroom. Seeing how small the cabin is, thought, you can't blame them—if you lived here, you don't think you could cope with sharing such a small place with four other people. And yes, you can tell that there are four people living here—there's a small family portrait placed on the hearth's mantle. When you take a closer look, you see that the cabin's occupants are an older looking man, his wife, and his two daughters. You don't recognize any of them.

Something about the portrait strikes you as odd, though. First off, it's painted. Knowing the effort that goes into paintings like this, you feel that no one would bother to do that nowadays. And then... their clothes are... strange. The man is wearing a powdered wig, and the women are wearing very stiff looking dresses and petticoats. You would say that the portrait had been made at some kind of historical convention, but there's just something about it that tells you that isn't the case. Maybe it's the serious looks on the family's faces, or the way they're sitting straight enough for their backs to be used as rulers.

You're about to turn away, but then something else on the mantle catches your eye. It's a book of some kind. The title reads "Farmer's Almanac, 177X Edition." You stare at it for a moment, your eyes passing over the date again. 177X. Either this book is an antique, or...

You spin around, surveying your surroundings with a fresh eye. You don't see any electrical outlets. Or electric lights. Or modern appliances. The kitchen has no microwave, or fridge, or even a sink—the only thing that distinguishes it from the rest of the room are its genuine wood countertops, and a wood burning stove... With the cooking appliances hanging from hooks in the wall, the whole setup almost looks like it'd been taken out of a museum display. The fur rug on the floor isn't fake, like you'd originally thought, either—it looks like it was taken from a bear, and it still has its head attached.

And then, there's the finishing blow. There are two long rifles leaning against the wall by the cabin door, standing right next to a large pair of silver-buckle shoes. The guns aren't kept in a gun locker, or even on a high shelf—they're sitting against the ground, at the perfect height for a child to get their hands on it. Nowadays, that would have resulted in an instant call to child protective services.

Somehow... you've been transported into the past.

Before your mind can properly wrap itself around that little fact, you hear something. The sound is quiet, and for a moment, you think you may have imagined it. But then you hear it again—a faint whimper. Someone nearby is crying.

The sound seems to be coming from the cabin's adjoining room. Driven by the urge to help whoever it is the voice belongs to, you quickly follow the sound, reaching for the handle of the door that leads to the next room... only to retract your hand again in horror. Your hand. It's... gone. Well, not gone gone, but it's not corporeal anymore, either—it's turned completely white, and its form shifts like mist when you move it. When you look down at yourself, you find that the rest of you is the same way—your physical body is gone. Your entire form is white and shifting, like heavy mist. The sight of it somehow reminds you of Napstablook.

You're about to go into full-out panic mode (how did any of this even happen?!), when you hear another whimper. Now that you're closer to the sound's source, you realize that the voice sounds young, and vaguely familiar. You grit your teeth, and go to open the door again. Your strange, ghost-like form doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that there's someone on the other side of this door—someone that needs your help.

Instead of making contact with the doorknob, you hand goes right through it. You gasp as you lose your balance, and then fall straight through the door. Your landing isn't exactly pleasant, and you groan in pain as you force yourself to your feet. It's too bad that your new ghost-form doesn't float—it might've come in handy at that moment. You get up and look around the room, expecting to find it occupied... but no one else is there. In fact, the room is basically empty except for a few beds—two twins and one queen, it looks like.

But I thought I heard... you think. Huh, that's weird.

Well, everything about your current situation is weird. This newest detail is just icing on the cake. You're about to go back into the other room, but then you hear the voice again. This time, it's coming from outside—the bedroom's single window is open, allowing for the voice's transmission into the house. You stare in the direction of the voice, gathering your courage. Then you run straight at the wall, your new found ghost-like properties allowing you to easily pass through it.

You find yourself outside, in the middle of a wide open field. No, not just a field—a field of gorse flowers. They stretch for nearly a mile or so away from the cabin in any direction, and then meet the base of an ancient-looking deciduous forest. The sun is shining cheerfully down, making the flowers almost seem to shine. On the distant horizon, the familiar shape of Mt. Ebott looms over the valley, casting its shadow on everything below it. You know this place. This is where you used to live. In the present, the spot you're standing on now... is the center of Ebott City. The town hall is famous for its Gorse fields.

You only have a moment to take all of this in. Because before you know it, you find yourself falling. You hadn't been looking where you were going when you stepped out of the wall, and so had unintentionally stepped on some kind of exterior cellar. You fall through its wooden shudders, and the air is knocked out of you as you land stomach-first on cold, hard, stone.

You gasp for breath and then move to sit up, every muscle in your body aching from the impact. You blink hard, trying to adjust your eyes to the sudden darkness. The only light in the cellar comes from a single hole on the wooden shudders, but even that single beam of sunlight doesn't do much to help the inky blackness that surrounds you—dust is thick in the air, breaking up the sunlight and making your eyes water.

Your first instinct is to try and get back out again. This place is intolerably dusty, and in the darkness, the stone walls almost feel as if they're closing in around you. However, the cellar door is high above your head, way too high for you to reach. There used to be stairs that led up to it... but those have been smashed to smithereens, sawdust and splinters littering the ground around you. You're suddenly really glad for your new ghost-like form—if you had physically fallen from that height, and onto this mess of splinters and rusty nails... you would have been in for a world of hurt.

How am I supposed to get out of here? you ask yourself, starting to panic. Can I go through the walls again?

You jump up and run at the nearest wall, hoping with all your heart that you'll phase through it. You don't. You collide with it at full force, so hard that you think you heard your nose crack.

You cry out in pain and grab it, expecting to find yourself bleeding. When your hand comes away dry, you slowly let your hand fall. The pain fades away soon after. Again, you're glad you don't have a physical body right now. However, since you can't seem to go through these walls, you can only assume....

I'm trapped, you think in horror.

You numbly fall to the floor again, the shock stemming from this entire episode finally getting to you. You don't understand what's happening. Why aren't you in the void? Why are you on the surface? How did you manage to time travel? Why do you look and feel like a ghost? And now, after everything else... you're trapped.

Tears well up in your eyes, your confusion threatening to completely overwhelm you. As tears start to slip down your cheeks, you open your mouth and take a deep breath, getting ready to cry out uselessly to someone who's not even there. Before any sound can leave you, though, you hear another whimper. It seemed as if it came... from directly behind you.

You're not alone down here.

You slowly turn around, and your heart twists when you catch sight of the voice's owner. A young girl—no older than four—is huddled in the corner of the room, hugging her knees to her chest. Her head is pressed firmly against her knees, and her body shakes as she sobs into them, trying her best to stay as quiet as possible.

She's painfully thin—her elbows and knees are unnaturally knobby, and the porcelain-white skin of her face is pulled tight. You can't see her face in her current position, but if you could, you're fairly sure that you would be able to see her cheekbones. Her hair is matted and stiff with tears, completely unmoving from its place hovering above her shoulders. It's obvious that she hasn't had a shower in days, if not longer—not only is her hair in a sorry state, but her skin is covered in a fine layer of dirt and grime.

Her dress isn't much better. It's at least one or two sizes too big for her, and it's fraying at the edges. There are so many stains on it that you can barely tell that the dress used to be green and yellow—even where the cotton material is clean, the pigments have faded so much from it that the dress is starting to turn a grey color.

The girl's feet are bare and bleeding—splinters from the destroyed stairs have completely torn them apart.

The cellar stinks of urine and feces, and you think you can hear the pitter-patter of tiny paws echoing from somewhere in the darkness.

What... what is this? you ask yourself numbly. You're completely shocked by the girl's appearance, so much so that your mind has drawn a blank. Why is she... who...

In contrast to what you're seeing right now, your life seems almost happy-go-lucky. What had happened to this girl? Did she fall down here? No, the cellar shudders are closed. Even worse, they're locked from the outside. Whatever had happened to her... it was intentional.

You cross over to the girl, trying to find some words of comfort for her. The sight of her in such a bad place is breaking your heart, but you don't know how you're supposed to do anything for her—after all, you're stuck down here, too. The only thing you have to offer her is your presence. You have no way of knowing how long she's been down here... how long she's been alone.

You can't think of anything to say. You have no real way of relating to her, so anything that you could say would sound fake—all you can give her is empty reassurance, empty sympathy... So, instead, you go to put a hand on her shoulder. Predictably, you go right through her. You stare at your hand for a moment, and then at the girl. You try to say something to her, to get her attention. ...Your voice doesn't work. Your mouth is moving, but no sound is coming out of it.

What kind of cruel world is this? Do you really have no option but stand here and watch this, unable to so much as comfort this poor little girl? You try talking again. When you continue to say nothing but silent words, you can feel tears start to well up in your eyes.

Why is this happening?!

Unable to do anything else, you take a seat next to the girl, and pull yourself into a similar fetal position. The anguish that you can sense flowing from her is enormous, and it causes tears to spill unchecked from your eyes. Your mind goes completely blank as you wallow in the little girl's pain, your eyes going unfocused as you stare, unseeing, out into the inky blackness...

You have no idea how long the two of you remain like that. In that cellar, you had no way to tell time. It could have been minutes, hours, days... no matter the time, though, it felt like an eternity. For all you know, you could have gone on sitting like that forever, until you eventually died from lack of water. However, that wasn't to be. From beyond the cellar doors, you hear a voice. It's gruff and deep—an older man's voice. You've never heard it before. The girl, however, seems to recognize it.

Her head shoots up from its place against her knees, a fevered look of desperation stretched across her painfully thin face. You turn to look at her, your numbed mind barely able to express curiosity at what she looks like. In the dim lighting, you can't really make out much. There is, however, enough light to see her eyes. They're ruby red, and reflecting the light as they are, they almost look as if they're on fire.

...You know those eyes.

...Chara? you ask her. Of course, she can't hear you.

She scrambles to her feet, her entire body shaking with the effort of standing up. She's so malnourished that even that small action takes an extraordinary amount of will power. She takes a few unsteady steps closer to the cellar door, and she's swaying so badly that you're almost certain that she's going to fall over. Unfortunately, you were right. Once she's directly under the cellar door, she collapses to her knees, her body shaking uncontrollably.

You can hear footsteps from up above you, and you hiss in pain as the cellar doors are thrown open, casting a sudden blinding light all throughout the previously dark cellar. When your eyes adjust enough to see, you notice that Chara was completely oblivious to the sudden light change. She stares straight up at whoever it was that opened the cellar doors, hope shining at her eyes.

"Daddy," she croaks. "You—"

"I am no farther of yours, you wretched whelp!" the gruff voice exclaims. Chara flinches and cries out, having cut her leg on a rusty nail.

"B-but..." she whimpers.

"You are a monster child," he hisses, his shadow looming over her trembling form. "What else could you be, with eyes like those?! I did not sire you, nor did any other human. You are nothing but a reminiscence of those demons that we cast under the Earth—a monster. Had you been born thirty years earlier, I would have been happy to seal you under the mountain with the rest of your kind! However, as the barrier has already been sealed... this will have to do."

"Let me out," Chara whimpers. "P-please, daddy. I-I will be good, I promise. I will do the housework, and I will help mama with the cooking—"

"And have you poison us all?!" the man bellows. "No. You will remain down there, until you finally give in and perish for your devilish ways."

"Daddy!" Chara squeaks.

The man drops a bucket of water into the cellar, half of its contents spilling out across the ground from the impact. Chara wastes no time trying to soak it up with the corner of her dress, unwilling to waste a single drop. She puts the corner of her dress into her mouth, desperately trying to suck the water out of it.

The man grunts in disgust and then drops two loaves of stale bread into the cellar, purposely hitting Chara square on the head. She cries out, and then scrabbles to pick up the loaves before the rats can get to them.

"Pitiful," the man mutters. "Monstrous and pitiful. Little beast!"

The door of the cellar slams, engulfing the two of you in darkness once again. Chara continues to stare up at the doors, her eyes flashing in the single beam of sunlight.

"...Daddy?"

From the other side of the cellar doors, you catch fragments of a conversation.

"We are ready to depart," a young female voice says. "We have packed all of our belongings, and have prepared provisions for the journey."

"Good," the man says. "Has the coachman arrived yet?"

"Yes, he is waiting for us in his carriage."

"Perfect. It is about time we left this blasted mountain behind us."

"Too many bad memories," the girl agrees. "You fought in the war, did you not, father?"

"'Eye, that I did.... But you already knew that," he man says. You can hear the sound of their footsteps as they walk away, their voices fading as they leave their house behind.

"Tell us the story again, father. Please?"

"Alright, I will tell you as we ride," he agrees. "It all began in the summer of 174X..."

Their voices are too muffled for you to understand the rest.

Chara is still staring at the cellar doors, her face slack with disbelief. Then, she scrambles to her feet and pounds her fists uselessly against the cellar's stone walls.

"Daddy!" she cries. "Sissa! Come back!"

It's useless, you know it is. They're already long gone. After several minutes, Chara gives up on her banging and yelling. She collapses to the ground, gasping for breath. Then she refills her lungs, and prepares for one final cry.

"DO NOT LEAVE ME HERE!"

Her voice echoes off of the cellar walls, and as her voice eventually fades out, everything around you vanishes in a sudden wave of blue.

~Void~

When you blink your eyes open again, you're back in the void. Chara has gone completely still from her place in front of you, tears spilling from her wide red eyes. One of her hands is desperately clutching at her chest, while the other is pressed hard against your head. Looking at her now... you have no problem seeing her being locked in a cellar. You take a quick glance at her legs. Even though her form is shifting and ethereal, you can make out faint scars crisscrossing them. You feel that the nail probably caused one of them. Seeing those scars, you're starting to understand what had just happened. Somehow, you'd managed to see one of her memories.

...But how? you ask yourself. What did I do?

The answer lies with your soul. Or rather... souls. Your soul is placidly floating in front of you, and at some point, Chara's had exited her own mist-like body. You notice that it looks a lot like Frisks—it's a similar size, and it's the exact same shade of red. It's glow, however, is significantly dimmer. In fact, you can barely tell that it's red at all—with the void as a backdrop, it almost appears black. And then... there are the cracks.

Her soul is riddled with so many fractures that it's constantly leaking determination, and it's not hard to imagine that it's about to splinter apart completely. Your own soul twists in sympathy for her, remembering the sight of that emancipated girl crying alone in the darkness. You can't help but admire her perseverance, though—somehow, her soul continues to hold on, despite its mortal injuries.

However, none of those things really explain your strange visit to the past. Then you notice that Chara's soul is flickering in a very specific pattern, its glow brightening and dimming in a rapid and very intricate dance. Sans had once told you that a soul's glow changes in response to how a person is feeling—right now, the strange flickering is basically Chara's soul's way of telling the rest of the world that she's upset. So no, that's not what caused it. There's something else that really interests you, though... and that is that your soul is doing the exact same dance, in perfect sync.

Whenever Chara's soul changes its pattern, your soul instantly changes to match. If her soul flickers more rapidly, so does yours. If it dims, so does yours. If it slows down, so does yours. On a hunch, you think that might be what caused you to see her memories—if your souls are displaying the same patterns, then it make sense to assume that you're feeling the same things.

And right now... she's feeling extremely angry.

"What did you do?!" she roars. She lunges at you with outstretched hands, but she's still so disoriented that you easily step side it. She tumbles to the ground, her soul obediently following her.

You want to stop and console her, to tell her that you understand, and that you know what she went through... but the truth is, you get the feeling that there's a lot more to tell. That one memory you saw... it was just the beginning. You need to know more. You need to understand everything. Only then will you be able to give her the help that she needs.

As Chara gets to her feet again, you concentrate hard on her emotions, allowing your soul to guide you to them. Your soul's glow dims as you lock onto Chara, and it emits a swath of sky blue energy, shaped not unlike a trail of smoke. It shoots towards Chara's soul and tightly wraps around it, skin-tight like a medical bandage. As you watch, the glow of Chara's soul brightens considerably, until its intensity exactly matches that of your own.

Once again, you find yourself floating on an ocean of pain and suffering. And, once again, your soul starts to search for its source.

"Stop!" Chara cries.

Under layers and layers of generic pain, you sense something. You shut your eyes and reach out for it, willing yourself to enter Chara's memories.

"No, wait—"

~Abuse~

You find yourself standing in the entryway to a huge, luxurious mansion. Everywhere you look, you see immaculately polished white marble and walls with golden trim. Large paintings adorn the walls, and servants and slaves alike hurry back and forth from room to room. Looking at this place, you can almost smell the wealth. You blink in confusion at the sudden change of circumstance. Chara had just been locked in a cellar, and left to die. Why were you now standing in the entryway of the rich and famous? You look down at yourself, and at the sight of your shifting, mist-like body, you're reassured that you're in the right place. You're once again in Chara's memories.

Though how she got here, you have no idea. You look around again, hoping to see the familiar red-eyed child somewhere in the crowd. You don't see her. However, looking at the mansion again, you almost feel as if there's something... familiar about it. You take a moment to think on it, trying to pinpoint the memory.

If you take away the paintings, furniture, and servants, and then put in an information kiosk right about... there, you think, this would look exactly like... the town hall. In the future, this place becomes Ebott City's town hall.

The fact stuns you, and you take a moment to digest that fact. This is what the town hall had looked like, hundreds of years ago—back during Revolutionary War times. You can still remember some of the facts that your mother had forced you to pay attention to during the mandatory tour of the facility—you can't remember the names, but basically, a wealthy businessman had bought up the property of the town's founding father, and had built the town hall in the middle of his field of Gorse flowers. The property of the town's founding father... Chara's log cabin had been in the middle of a field of Gorse flowers. Wouldn't that mean that he...

The idea merits further investigation, but your train of thought is cut short when you spot a familiar shape in the crowd. A young girl is hurrying along, trying her best not to trip over the trail of the ridiculously fancy dress she had been forced to wear. From this distance, you're too far away to tell for sure whether or not that's Chara. Well, not by sight, anyway—judging by the reactions of the people around her, though (they take one look at her and then rush to get out of her way), you can guess that the girl has red eyes.

You hurry after her, dodging left and right to avoid running into any of the oblivious house servants. None of them can see you, the way you are now. Since this is all just a memory, that makes sense... however, you aren't sure whether or not you can bump into them. You decide that it's better not to find out.

Chara enters a room off the main hallway, and closes the door behind her. The sight of the closed door doesn't dissuade you—you simply walk right through it. The room that you find yourself in now is small in comparison to the rest of the house, but still much larger than the living room of Chara's old cabin. This is obviously her room—there's a bed in one corner, and a lot of old-fashioned toys littered across the circular rug that covers the room's hardwood floors.

You can't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of it. This is infinitely better than the cellar from before. It seems that Chara has found a good home, and is living a decent life. But then, why were you drawn here? You'd purposely been searching out the causes to her suffering—you don't see any reason why living in a mansion would make her in any way unhappy.

You look over at her, hoping that she'll give you some clues as to why you were stopped here. Chara is silent as she crosses over to her bed, and sits down on it. She seems to be around eight or nine, now, and she looks like a completely different person than she did before. She practically glows with a soft kind of beauty, and she seems to be very well cared for. She at least has enough to eat—unlike last time, you can't immediately tell where her ribs are, and her face is a lot less angular.

However, her eyes haven't changed. They're still the same ruby red, and they hold the same quiet tears. You watch her in confusion as they slip down her cheeks, and then fall silently onto her exquisite white dress. You don't understand why she's upset. What's going on here that you can't see? You sit on the bed next to Chara, hoping that if you stay close by her, you'll soon find out.

As she cries, you notice that she's constantly checking a clock that's placed on her nightstand. She seems to be waiting for something. Something... bad? You don't know. As the clock nears nine 'O clock at night, she sniffs and slides off of her bed, crossing over to an adjoining room. It seems to function as some kind of bathroom (though, seeing as it doesn't have a toilet, it's more like a powder room). Chara starts to wash away her tears in a basin that someone had left for her, desperately trying to rid herself of any signs that she had been crying. Then she pulls out a pretty silk ribbon, and starts to thread it into her hair.

"If you're cuter... they won't hit you as hard," she mumbles to herself. Your soul lurches in your chest, even though you aren't entirely sure what she's talking about.

Then she hurries back over to her bed and sits with her back perfectly straight, and her hands folded daintily in her lap.

Precisely as the clock strikes nine, there's a knock at her bedroom door. Chara trembles at the sound of it, but manages to steady herself before it opens.

"Mistress Chara, the master is requesting your presence in his study," a servant says, offering Chara a slight curtsey. "Shall I accompany you?"

"That won't be necessary," Chara says, her voice carefully devoid of emotion. "You may go."

The servant nods and then leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Chara grits her teeth, and her hands squeeze together from their place in her lap. The pressure seems to help her remain calm, because she soon relaxes, and in one smooth motion, gets up from her seat on the bed. You follow her as she walks out of the room, and then starts down one of the less populated hallways.

A few turns later, there's not a single servant in sight. The relative emptiness of this hallway strikes you as odd. The rest of the house is always so busy. Why isn't this place? You nearly bump into Chara when she stops in front of a large pair of double doors. She stares up at them with something akin to foreboding in her eyes. Then she takes a deep, shaky breath, and knocks on the door.

"Come in," a voice calls.

Chara opens the doors with trembling hands, and then enters the next room. You follow her in, and then stop again when you see just how big the "study" is. It'd be better named the 'library.'

Wow... so many books, you think dazedly. If you were here in real life, this place could occupy you for hours on end...

You shake off your awe, and refocus on Chara. You're here so you can learn how to help her. You can't forget that.

Chara quietly pads across the room, and stops in front of a large arm chair. It's faced away from the two of you, and is placed directly in front of a large fireplace. It's high-backed, so you can't see whoever's sitting in it. This strikes you as extremely cliché. However, seeing as you're currently in the 18th century, you suppose that it's still technically a new idea.

Chara takes another deep breath, and clutches at her dress.

"I'm here," she says quietly. "What is it you wanted?"

Whoever's in the armchair chuckles. It's a deep, grating sound that sends shivers down your spine. Something deep inside of you tells you that whatever's going on here... it isn't good. Chara needs to run. Now.

"You know what I want," the man purrs. He gets up from his place in front of the fire, and stalks over to Chara. He's an older man—judging by the grey in his hair, you'd place him in his mid-fifties—and he's obviously very well off. His clothes (though completely old-fashioned) are immaculate, and you have the strangest feeling that the buckles on his shoes are made out of real gold.

As the man approaches Chara, she goes to take a step back. However, the moment she does, fear flashes across her face. She then replaces her stray foot, and remains rooted to the spot as the man circles her, a predatory smile on his face. He runs a finger along her jaw line, and then flicks a lock of her hair away from her face.

"It is that time again," he whispers, his lips barely brushing against her ear. "Come, let's go have some fun, shall we?"

"I-I'd rather not, sir," Chara stammers. Her grip on her dress increases, but she doesn't move. She doesn't even look at the man—she keeps her gaze trained straight ahead.

"Would you rather I put you back in the cellar, then?"

Chara flinches, and the man laughs at the terror that's stretched across her face.

"That's right, my little pet," he purrs, tucking her hair behind one ear. "Do not forget your place in my house. If you earn your keep, I allow you to stay here. If you do not... well, when I built over that dusty old cabin, I made sure to keep your cellar nice and damp for you."

Chara shivers, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Do not forget—it is because of me that you still breathe. If I had not bought this land, you would have perished in that hell-hole," he continues. "But... you did not. I saved you, and I gave you a place here. You live a pampered life, filled with food, toys, clothes... anything that you so desire. All that I ask for in return..."

He leans in, and nips the very top of her ear. As Chara's tears spill down her cheeks again, a lazy smile spreads across the man's face.

"...Is your body."

The man runs his thumb along the neckline of Chara's dress, a hungry gleam to his eyes.

"Now... do you have any other complaints, my little monster?"

Chara says nothing. Her eyes have glazed over, and she doesn't protest as the man slips a rope around her wrists. Then the man slams her against the only clear wall in the entire study, and forces her arms above her head. As the sleeves of her dress fall, you catch sight of dozens of scars crisscrossing her arms. Some of them are still fresh, and blood starts to lazily make its way down her arms.

When the man notices it, something dark and angry enters his expression. He slaps Chara across the face, and then leans in close. Chara offers up no resistance. She's gone completely limp, as if the man's touch had transformed her into nothing but a life-sized doll.

"What have I told you about harming yourself?" he hisses. "You're mine. And it's not nice to damage your master's things, is it?"

Chara says nothing. All of the life has completely left her eyes, and her head lolls from the force of his strike.

"Is it?!" the man repeats, his voice gaining volume. He backhands her, snapping her head in the other direction.

"N-no," Chara mutters. "It's not nice."

She sounds completely defeated. The man grins again, and licks away the blood that's traveling down her arm.

"That's right. You will not do that again. Right, monster~?"

"I will not do it again," Chara repeats, her voice monotone.

"Good."

The man lifts the hem of her dress, and runs his hand along the top part of her thigh. Chara shivers, but shows no other outward sign of emotion.

"Now. To business."

Throughout all of this, you've been rooted to the spot, completely overwhelmed by horror at the man's actions. Everything about this is so... so wrong, and happening so quickly... you're in a state of complete and utter shock.

When he completely exposes Chara's panties, though, that shock gives way to a blaze of wrath. No matter what she's done to you, you can't just stand here and do nothing! Your first instinct is to run over there, fists raised, and give the man exactly what he deserves, right in the spot that he most deserves it.

You're about to do it, too. You take a step forward, your fists clenched so hard that your fingers would probably break if you actually did hit him. But then... you remember. This is just a memory. All of this... it's already happened. You have no influence here. No matter what you do, it won't have any effect on the outcome. You're nothing but an onlooker.

That thought completely extinguishes your anger, leaving only your lingering sense of horror and fear. Your hands drop limply to your sides, and you turn your head away as the man starts to shift down the last defense that Chara has to offer.

...I don't want to watch this.

And so... you run. Like a coward, you phase through the study doors, and bolt down the hallway you came from. You don't get very far, though. Only feet from the doors, you run into something not unlike an invisible wall. You back up a few paces and try again, only to be met with the same result. There's some kind of invisible barrier in place to keep you from leaving.

I don't want to watch this!

You run into the barrier again and again like a fly on a window, Chara's muffled cries driving you to try again every time you fail. You only give up once your head starts to pound from the repeated blows. As a scream echoes from the study, you clamp your hands over your ears and slide to the ground, pulling yourself into the tightest ball that you can manage.

Why? She's just a kid! Why her? Why this? No. No, no, no... this is wrong. All wrong. Just stop it! STOP IT!

Even if your voice could be heard in this cruel, cruel world, you don't think it would have made a difference.

You want to leave. More than anything, you want to leave Chara's memory, and save yourself from the trauma that you're bound to be left with after all of this. But no matter what you do... you're stuck. You can't seem force yourself to leave. And if you can't make yourself leave... you can only assume that the only way to get out of here is to allow the memory to play itself out.

...For the first time, you find yourself longing for the empty blackness of the void.

Nearly an hour goes by before the sounds from the other room die down. By that time, you're shaking like a leaf, and your mind has been stretched to the breaking point.

Footsteps echo from the hall behind you, giving you a welcome distraction from the horrors that had gone on in the study. You look over your shoulder, and find that two servants are approaching from the opposite direction. They stop just behind you, and seem to be waiting for something.

The doors of the study fly open, and you suddenly find Chara sprawled at your feet. She's completely naked, and she looks awful. Her little frame is heaving as she struggles to find her breath, and her blood—seeping from both old and new wounds—is slowly staining the marble floors red.

That fucking pedophile.

Such an unfathomable rage is flowing through you that if you had been there in person... you wouldn't have hesitated to kill the man. You turn to look at him, and the sight of him wearing nothing but a pair of loose pants, that expression of lazy satisfaction on his face... it's more than enough to send you over the edge. Despite knowing how pointless it is, you launch yourself at him, screaming a silent battle cry. You bounce off of him, like you had that invisible barrier that's blocking off the hallway.

"Wasn't that nice?" the man asks, staring down at Chara's limp body. "Did you have fun? I sure did."

When Chara doesn't answer, he kicks her in the ribs. She groans weakly and curls into a fetal position, trying in vain to protect herself from the man's newest assault.

"Oh, what a shame," he whines. "It looks like I broke my favorite toy."

He kicks her again, and the force of it actually rolls her over. The man sighs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair, before turning to look at the servants. Throughout all of that, they hadn't done anything. They didn't even blink. For them, it seemed, this wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

"She's of no use to me anymore," he tells them. "The slave traders are coming into town today, aren't they? Give her to them. Don't even bother trying to sell her—nobody would buy a slave so damaged."

The servants nod their understanding, and they each take one of Chara's arms, forcing her to stand up. She's so weak that her legs can't even hold her own weight.

The man takes her chin in his hand, that predatory grin once more on his face.

"Oh, and monster, sweetie?" he asks her. "Don't ever tell anybody about our little... arrangement. If you do... I will come find you, and I will not hesitate to deliver you back into your father's hands. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Chara croaks.

"Good."

The man studies her one last time, his eyes taking in every single inch of her bare, bleeding frame. When his eyes light on the ribbon in Chara's hair, he chuckles. He reaches out to her and slowly pulls it out, dangling it in front of his face.

"A ribbon. How cute," he notes. He tosses it over his shoulder, and gives Chara one final slap to the face. Then he turns away, and gives the servants a dismissive wave. "Get her out of my sight."

As the servants turn and march away, your vision starts to fade. You're torn. You want to follow her and see what happens next, but at the same time... this is getting to be too much for you. You need a time-out.

So, you're kind of grateful when everything around you turns blue, and the details of the mansion start to fate into uncertainty.

~Suicide~

Instead of finding yourself in the void again, like you were expecting, you transition right into another memory. You're so frustrated that you could scream. You don't want to know any more. In fact, you can't help but wish that there was a way for you to unlearn everything that you've found out so far. That way, you could continue hating her for what she did to you. But now, after all of this—after going to such lengths to understand the depths of her hurt and pain? You're starting to sympathize—no, empathize with her. You want to help her. But seeing all of that... you're way out of your depth.

...It would be so much easier if you could go back to believing she's nothing but an irrational psychopath.

You're the one that started all of this, though. You have to see it through to the end. You owe it to her, and you owe it to yourself. You deserve to know what drove Chara to murder your brother.

Knowing that there's nothing you can do, and that at this point, you're just along for the ride... you figure you may as well get the most out of it, and look at your new surroundings. You seem to be sitting against the side of some kind of covered wagon, along with at least twenty other women. They're of all different ages, race, and color... however, they all have one thing in common. They're all bound, rope tightly encircling their wrists.

A familiar sense of horror echoes through you at the sight of it, and you go to stand up... only to find that you can't. Panic surges through you, and you try desperate to move your arms, your legs, your head, anything. Nothing happens. If you had control of your own lungs, you would probably be hyperventilating.

What's happening?! Why can't I move?!

You can feel your arms and your legs, but you just can't seem to get them to do anything. You wish you could at least move your hands—the rope that's binding your wrists is really starting to burn.

Wait... rope? Bound?

You look down at your hands (as well as you can without turning your head, anyway), and find that you... you aren't made of mist anymore. You have a real, physical body again. But then, why can't you move it? You try to flex your fingers, but to no avail—they stay curled in a fist, your nails biting into your palm.

You know, you've never noticed it before... but you have really small hands. They almost look like a child's.

...Wait a minute. These don't look like... these aren't my hands! This isn't my body! Wha—what's going on?!

As the wagon passes over a bump in the road, "you" fall over. With "your" hands bound, "you" have nothing to catch yourself with, and so you end up getting a nasty bump on the head. The pain of it radiates all throughout "your" skull, and if you could move your facial muscles, you'd be wincing. You may not be able to control "your" body, but you sure can feel its pain.

The other women in the wagon look on with dead eyes. It's not that they don't care about you—they've just lost all hope. They're all in the same situation, and they have no way of helping you back up, anyway.

Luckily for you, the body that you're inhabiting fell in a way that it can see the road behind you. You can see a small village in the distance, and the yellow of a large field of Gorse flowers.

'...It's not moving very fast.' A voice echoes throughout your head, a voice that clearly isn't your own. 'I might get bruised a little, but I could jump out. ...And if I hurry, they may not notice I'm gone.'

You recognize that voice. In some ways, you know that voice even better than you know your own.

...Chara? you ask the voice. It doesn't respond. Even though you may be inhabiting her body, you have to remind yourself that this is still just a memory. She can't hear you.

She continues to watch the road pass by. Being inside of her head as you are, you're privy to what it is she's thinking. At the moment, she's trying to decide whether or not she should try and run. Does she take her chances with the slave trade, and hope against hope that she's bought by a kind master? Or does she run, find the nearest town, and put her chances in the people she finds there? The slave traders are sure to chase her... but there has to be someone out there that would help her. Either way, her life is now just a roll of the dice.

Before she can make her final decision, one of the other women speaks up, apparently having noticed Chara's unusual interest in the road behind them.

"Don't you do it, girl," she says. Though you can't see her from Chara's current position, her voice betrays her age. "No good will come from it. Don't you think we've tried that before?"

Chara becomes a little bit more uncertain. The woman seems to sense that, and continues.

"They always catch you. And when they do, they'll beat you mercilessly," she says. "It's better in the long run if you just accept all of this. Just do what they say."

For a moment, Chara's thoughts go silent. Then, all at once...

'I'm DONE being a puppet. I'm not going to let ANYONE manipulate me like that again! NO MORE!'

*Chara is filled with DETERMINATION*

Chara shifts all of her weight towards the wagon exit, rolling herself towards freedom. She hits the road hard, but she forces herself to stay completely silent—the only sign of her pain is a slight watering of her eyes. Then she awkwardly gets to her feet and sprints off into the trees, her breath coming in gasps. The sound of the wagon stopping in the distance eggs her on, and as the shouts of a few men echo through the forest, you can feel panic start to grip her. She doesn't turn back, though, and continues her bid for freedom.

***

It takes the two of you the most part of an hour, but you soon stumble across a nearby village. Chara is panting hard by the time you reach it, and you can feel her legs and lungs burning with the effort of evading her pursuers.

With her hands still bound, she rushes into the village's common area. You can hear distant shouts from the forest behind you, and the sound of them galvanizes Chara further. She runs up to the first person she sees.

"P-please ma'am, can you help me?" she asks the woman. She turns around, her eyes soft at the sound of a child's frightened voice.

"Oh course. What do you..."

The lady falls silent as she catches sight of Chara. Her eye flit over the bruises that litter her arms and legs, the potato-sack dress that she's wearing, and then, finally... her eyes. The woman gasps and flinches away, her own eyes wide at the sight of Chara's unusually red irises.

"Wh-what are you?!" she exclaims, taking a step back. "Those eyes... the last time I saw eyes like those... It took me months to rebuild my home! Get out of here, monster!"

Chara shrinks back, shame and fear instantly overwhelming her previous rush of determination. All her life, people had always judged her for her eyes. From what's running through her mind right now, you learn that it has something to do with the war... and a monster that had been known as the "iron sentinel." This area had been ravaged by the iron sentinel, and he was known for his bright red eyes.

Chara shakes the thought off, and rushes off to someone else.

"Please, if you could just cut these ropes off of me—"

"Begone, demon!"

She tries another person.

"Help me, please. They're going to find me—"

"Leave me alone, or I'll turn you to dust!"

Tears stream down Chara's face as she gives it one last try. She approaches a young child, her own age. Surely, out of everyone in this town, they would be willing to help.

"E-excuse me—"

Before Chara can so much as say anything else, the child screams.

"Red eyes! This girl has red eyes!"

The entire village goes dead silent. If there was anyone who was ignorant of Chara's presence before... well, they'd just been given—quite literally—a red flag. Everyone turns as one to look in Chara's direction, dozens of judgmental eyes landing squarely on the two of you. There are a few more seconds of dead silence. And then... someone throws a rock. It glances off of Chara's shoulder, sending a bolt of pain all down her arm. Following that first attack, everyone else starts to abuse Chara. Rocks and bottles aren't the only things being thrown—words like spears pierce Chara's fragile defenses, completely shattering her tenuous resolve.

"Demon!"

"Red eyes!"

"Freak!"

"Monster!"

Something inside of Chara breaks at the mention of that last word, and she flinches despite her attempts to remain emotionless. Why does everyone always call her that? What did she ever do to deserve it? Seeing her reaction, the others pick up the chant.

"Monster!"

'That's right. I'm nothing but a monster.'

"Monster!"

'I'm trash. I'm worthless. I'm unsightly, useless, red-eyed garbage.'

"Monster!"

'I don't belong here. No one wants me here. ...No one will ever want me here.'

"Monster!"

'...I should just die.'

The world almost seems to spin around the two of you. Chara is completely losing her grip, and starts to tremble uncontrollably as that word... "monster..." brings back unpleasant memories. She collapses to the ground, the people around her becoming nothing but a dizzying whirl of motion.

"There she is!" a gruff voice exclaims, drowning out the chanting of the crowd. "There's the little runaway! Catch her!"

The sound of the trader's voice helps to get Chara out of her stupor. She struggles to her feet, and frantically scans the crowd. Whereas everyone else is keeping their distance from her, two men with rifles are barreling towards her at top speed. The moment she spots them, she turns on her heel, and sprints in the opposite direction. Ahead of you, a familiar mountain looms. Mt. Ebott.

***

Your shared legs are aching. Your bare feet are bleeding. Your arms hurt from pumping them so hard. Your lungs and throat burn. Everything hurts. All of Chara's old wounds have been reopened with the effort of running up the mountain, and you get the privilege of feeling every ounce of her pain. Chara has been running for nearly three hours, non-stop. Adrenaline had been coursing through the two of you, keeping you going even when your body felt it couldn't take it anymore.

Now, though... that adrenaline is running out. Trembling and panting, Chara is struggling to put one foot in front of the other. She desperately needs to rest. But her pursuers are older, faster, and healthier—she doesn't have a moment to lose.

At least the ropes are gone, you think dryly. Chara had tripped and fallen earlier, and the ropes had been miraculously cut by an unusually sharp rock.

'I can't... go on.'

Chara's voice rings through your shared head. She's on the verge of tears, and the feel of it is almost enough to bring tears to your own non-existent eyes. What had she ever done to deserve all of this? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Chara stumbles and falls, the broken branches and pebbles sticking out of the dirt path biting into her exposed skin.

'I can't... go on.'

The sound of heavy footsteps through the forest's underbrush echoes throughout the mountain. They're catching up.

Come on! you tell her, trying uselessly to encourage her. Come on, keep going! Stay determined!

In the distance, the sound of a clattering rock reaches you. Chara shifts her head from its place on the ground, curiosity driving her to look in the direction of the unusual sound. What she sees... looks like a gift from above. A cave. There's a cave set into the side of the mountain. And a cave... means hiding places.

With one last burst of determination, Chara manages to get to her feet. She no longer has the energy to run, but with what little energy she has left, she limps in the cave's direction. The cave's smooth stone floor feels nice and cool against her bare and bleeding feet, and the darkness around her is inviting, offering her the cover that she so desperately needs.

The voices and footsteps of the two men fade as she goes further in, eventually disappearing altogether into the peace and solitude of Ebott cave.

Eventually, Chara stops. You briefly wonder why, but then you take notice of the giant abyss that's opened up before her. Sunlight from a hole in the ceiling filters down into the abyss, but not even that is enough to show what mysteries lie at the abyss's bottom. Chara shuffles forward to the very edge of the dangerous drop, staring down into the inky blackness. She can't see anything past the first ten feet.

You know this place. You've seen it only once, and the chances are that you'll never see it again. Ebott Abyss—the entrance to the Underground.

Chara realizes it, too. She numbly stares at it, unfeeling except for brief flashes of memory. She's remembering all of those times her father had ranted about the war, and how she belonged under the mountain with "her kind."

As she stares into the abyss... an idea starts to form in her head. It's too muddled for you to see it clearly, but there's so much negative emotion accompanying the fledgling idea that you can easily guess what it is.

"No one would miss me," she whispers aloud. "No one cares."

She stares at it a little longer, her idea starting to take a more concrete form.

"In fact... they'd all be glad that I'm gone."

Chara imagines herself taking one step too many.

"There's nothing left for me to lose."

All it would take is one step. One step, and all of her pain would finally be over.

"...Did I ever have anything to begin with?"

A fall like that... is sure to kill her. It would be painless, unlike being in the servitude of another master like her last.

"This world has nothing left to offer me."

Just thinking about falling makes her feel more at peace.

"I should leave this world... and move on to the next."

With silent tears running down her cheeks, she takes a slow step forward.

"Even if I don't die, there's still more for me down there than there is up here."

Her foot encounters nothing but empty air, and she tumbles into the darkness. For the first time since you first started to traverse her memories... she smiles. She closes her eyes and outstretches her arms at her sides, as if embracing the air as it rushes by her.

'After all... I am a monster.'

Author's Note #2

Okay, I don't have too much to say. After all of that... what left is there to say? So, I'm just going to clear something up (something that a lot of you are probably a little bit confused about), and then add in the synopsis.

So, a lot of you are probably wondering how Reader-chan was able to enter Chara's memories. The answer lies with her (your) soul—and more specifically, with her empathy trait. That trait not only allows her to sense other people's emotions, but she also has an ability (no, it's not magic—it's just an unusual skill, like bending over backwards or being double jointed) called "soul synchronization." It allows her soul to exactly mimic the soul wavelength of someone else, and puts her in such an extreme state of empathy that she can completely imagine being the other person, complete with their thoughts, feelings, and even memories. Soul synchronization can also do a few other things, but you won't find out about those until later.

Oh, and even if you DID read the chapter, I highly suggest reading the synopsis, too. There might be some clarifications of other things that you missed, and some facts that maybe weren't clearly stated in the actual chapter. And, as always, I'm open to questions.

Chapter Synopsis:

Here's what happens after you hit "neglect" in the chapter. Basically, Reader-chan enters Chara's memories, and gets to see parts of her history before falling into the Underground. She's taken back to the year 177X, about 30 years after the end of the war between the humans and the monsters.

The first memory that Reader-chan sees is of Chara when she's around 4 years old. She's locked in a cellar, completely neglected by her family. This is because her father had fought in the war, and was suffering from a form of PTSD—Chara's red eyes reminded him of a monster (named the iron sentinel) that he had fought in the war. He locked her in the cellar from the moment that she was old enough to speak, only providing her the necessities to live. Then he completely abandoned her, and he and the rest of her family moved away, leaving her there to die.

After a brief intermission in the void (where Reader-chan realizes that she was in Chara's memories, and that it's her soul that allowed her to do that [see above]), Reader-chan is transported into another memory. She finds herself in a mansion. There she finds that Chara is living in relative comfort. However, it's for a steep price.

The master of the house bought her father's old property, and found Chara by happenstance while he was tearing down the family's old cabin. She was still locked in the cellar, and near death. He allows her to stay at his newly-built mansion, but only if she "earns her keep." Or, in other words... if she allows the master to rape her on a consistent basis.

She doesn't really have a choice in the matter. If she refuses, the man will throw her back in the cellar. After the master rapes Chara, harming her to the point of disfiguration, he sells her to a local band of slave traders, not having any further use for her.

In the next memory, Chara manages to escape from the slave traders, and runs to a nearby village, with the traders in hot pursuit. Because of her eyes, though, no one in the village was willing to help her. In fact, they abuse her further. Chara keeps running, climbing Mt. Ebott to try and escape her pursuers. She eventually finds Ebott Abyss, and, feeling that she has nothing to lose, attempts suicide. Her last words are 'After all... I am a monster.' That's where the chapter ends.