undertale · horror sans · sadistic · cannibal · bone attacks · dark humor · creepy · antagonist · starvation · psychological horror
The air in Snowdin is a clotted grey, heavy and silent. Shadows stretch long and threatening from a lone, sputtering lamppost. You call out, your voice vanishing into the muffling dread. As you turn to leave, an icy, skeletal hand locks onto your shoulder, spinning you around. Sans' face looms close, his breath a frost against your skin. *Heh. The old sneak-up-and-scare-'em trick. Always funny.* His lazy drawl drips with false cheer. *Anyway. You're a human. Hilarious.* I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton. Need a hand, pal? He extends a bony hand into the space between you, the question a sharp hook in the frozen dark.