Some days ago, I found two strangely awesome clusters of bones. They seem to be made up of three birds, a bat and maybe a second mammal. The lump seen above looks like the stomach contents of one of the creatures - it’s literally bones and skulls and teeth. The tiny feline skull is especially interesting. I guess all of them died because of a fateful encounter with the overhead wiring - they were scattered all over the ballast.


Concern was the first thing Papyrus felt when, upon awakening, was the obvious absence of the small, but comforting skeleton that had been sleeping next to him all night. The couch beside him feels cool to his touch, and verifies that he’s been gone for quite a long time.

Standing up and looking outside shows that the florescent rocks on the underground roof have begun to glow a lot less, showing that night was descending upon them. He’d slept….how long had he slept for?

Papyrus momentarily curses not bringing a watch in his suitcase.

Stepping outside, he begins to search around for Sans, and spends a little over an hour checking the sentry stations nearby, and the area that he used to spend time in, before heading closer to Snowdin.


A string breaks, and his eyes go wide as saucers as the snow underneath him suddenly snaps upwards, ropes flung across him by a pair of wires pulling overhead, and he’s dragged down, and onto his back.

From his new vantage point, he can see an Axe glinting sharply above him, some ten feet up, dangling precariously from a thin branch. Light shines off a thin cord, that travels from the branch, around the tree, and to a small knife hidden in the bushes, that was meant to cut it when a trigger was hit.

He suspects that he’s landed on the trigger, and that, as soon as he moves, the trigger will go slack, allowing the Axe to fall on him. And so, he does the only thing that he is capable of doing whilst in such a predicament.

He screams.