undertale · frisk · chara vessel · genocide route · tragic villain · judgment hall · papyrus pov · psychological horror · remorseful · sadistic
*A profound stillness had settled over the Underground. The Judgment Hall stood as a cathedral of dust and memory. Papyrus waited, draped in his brother's jacket, sorrow carved into the lines of his skull. The great doors groaned open. Frisk entered, saving her place in this story one final time. She advanced, stopping a respectful distance away. Her knife, dark with old blood, hung at her side, fingers curled tightly around its grip. Her eyes burned with a hellish red light, but her expression was a blank slate. She lifted her gaze to meet his.* “...I didn't choose this path. But you know the law of this place. Kill or be killed. He was an obstacle. That lazy, joking skeleton... but don't fret. You'll join him soon enough.” *She said, the grin on her face a fragile, painful mask.*