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NullenVoidWriting
NullenVoidWriting

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KNOCK ON WOOD - Refuge Row (Ch.4)

Ruins, Very Long Hallway

Frisk woke up slowly, sleep falling away gradually like leaves falling off a tree in the fall. They sat up slowly, rubbing their eyes. A blanket fell off them, so thin that they hadn’t noticed it until it fell off. They picked it back up for inspection. It was faded and blue, with a white symbol sewn in the center. It didn’t look like any blanket they owned…

You wake up in an extra-large tent.

Blinking, Frisk looked around. A tent? Why were they in a tent…

Oh right, Dad wanted to take them camping, so they went up the mountain and--

Frisk grabbed at their pajamas, too thick and made of the wrong material. Blue and yellow. Not pajamas.

They fell back against the bed, which creaked woodenly underneath them. They remembered now. The vault, the rain, the fall, the… monsters. They were surrounded by monsters.

Except they kind of weren’t, right now? How did they get to this place?

Frisk sat up again, looking around. The tent was a darker purple than the bricks they’d seen before, and the space was lit by a large lantern sitting on the ground next to the flap. The cot, not a bed, that they were sitting on was enormous to the point that Frisk thought even an adult would feel small on it. They had to crawl their entire body length to get to the edge. It barely shifted under their weight.

Their Pip-boy had been removed and placed on top of a short bookshelf, though “short” was relative since everything in here was built for a giant. It was well out of their reach, too, but they couldn’t leave without it! They tried to climb the shelf, but they couldn’t get off the ground without the whole thing wobbling.

…Maybe, if they were lucky, there would be some paper or something? Under the Pip-boy, and if they could just reach the top, they could slide the paper (that might not be there) and the Pip-boy with it…

Straining, and only just now realizing that their boots were missing, their fingers managed to peek over the edge of the bookshelf.

Luck Check: 10. Failed.

There was no paper that they could feel. Instead, a black spider crawled onto their hand, and Frisk screamed, falling back onto their rear in an attempt to get away from the surprising bug.

The spider, unperturbed by their flailing, stayed firmly in place, right up until Frisk scraped them off with their other hand. It hit the floor with an audible tap and skittered away under the tent’s folds.

Frisk leaned back until their head touched the ground. Maybe they should have stayed in bed.

“Is everything alright? I heard screaming.”

The voice was soft and kind and tired, and so was completely at odds with everything Frisk had dealt with for the past two days. Three days? How long were they asleep? They tilted their head to the side to see who was speaking as they stepped into the tent.

Their first impression was tall. Granted, Frisk was lying on the ground at the moment, but this person’s face still seemed impossibly far away. They scrambled to their feet as she approached and back away, because the second thing they noticed was furry. They weren’t human because humans didn’t have white fur or horns, and of the extremely limited alternatives that left, recent events put ‘monster’ at the top of the list.

“Oh dear,” the monster said, and Frisk flinched at hearing that kindly voice coming from them. “Fear not, my child, I mean you no harm… Oh, where is David? David!”

The spider returned, rapidly ascending the monster’s body before ending up in her hand. It danced in her palm, waving four legs around, and the monster’s eyes widened.

“Oh my, David, you should have known better than to startle them--” More aggressive dancing. “Even most monsters would react poorly to having a spider crawl onto their hand unexpectedly. No, I don’t care what your boss says. If she wants monsters to make accommodations for you, then you need to do the same and respect our boundaries--David, no.”

Frisk felt their shoulders unclenching as she watched the giant goat-woman argue with a tiny bug, fear giving way to confusion. A hundred questions raced through their head, but the one that came out of their mouth was--

“...David?”

Their voice was quiet, barely even a whisper, but the monster’s floppy ears twitched and she gave them a soft smile. “Indeed, my child. After all, someone that small can’t help but be surrounded by Goliaths.”

She chuckled to herself. David made an annoyed clicking sound and hopped back down to the floor and out of the tent, leaving them alone.

“Ignore him. Most of the spiders down here are lovely people, but David takes himself too seriously at times.”

Frisk stared at her, not able to respond. The moment her attention was back on them they had tensed again, not necessarily afraid but definitely wary. They glanced around the tent looking for any possible way out. Seemingly realizing this, she stepped to the side and sat down on the cot, which creaked under her weight, and hid her hands inside of her sleeves.

“I’m sorry to have frightened you, young one,” she said. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Toriel, the keeper of these Ruins. If you have not already been properly greeted, then allow me to welcome you to the Underground.”

There was a path now. It wouldn’t be hard to run past her, and with her sitting down she might not be able to react in time. They could make a break for it. Toriel watched them, a patient smile on her face as their eyes darted from her to the flap, then to their Pip-boy.

Toriel followed their gaze and made a sound of understanding. “Oh, of course. Here,” she said. She stood to grab the bulky device and handed it over. Frisk all but jerked it out of her hand and held it close, surprising her. “I’m sorry. I took it off you because it looked uncomfortable to sleep in. Not to mention if you rolled over in your sleep and broke it.”

Pip-boys were tougher than that, but she couldn’t have known that. Frisk swiftly latched it back in place with fumbling hands and it went into its start-up sequence.

Toriel perked up when it beeped and leaned down to inspect the screen. “What a curious little contraption. How does it work? Is that you on the screen?” she asked, pointing at the silhouette displaying their overall health. Her finger covered most of the screen, claw tink-ing against the glass, and Frisk leaned away.

“...” They opened their mouth, but nothing came out. They weren’t sure what to even say right now, but before they could figure it out the tent flap was pulled open and one of those cyclops peered in.

“Lady Toriel, I--uh.” He paused, and Frisk flinched when that giant eye zeroed in on them.

Toriel arched an eyebrow. “Yes, Mr. Eyewalker?”

“Er, I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said nervously, “But there’s been another collapse in north Home, and that area hasn’t been fully evacuated yet--”

“Of course.” Toriel sighed heavily, looking exhausted, before turning back to Frisk with a smile. “My child, I’m sorry, but I have to go now. You are welcome to stay in my tent, and perhaps spend the time reading,” she said, gesturing to her bookshelf, “But if you so desire you can wander through the camp. I know we monsters can be frightening, but you have my word that no one in the Ruins will hurt you.”

Her face didn’t change. On the surface she looked just as kind and motherly as before, but Frisk could sense an edge to her tone. And Mr. Eyewalker must have as well, because he gulped audibly.

“If you need me urgently…” Toriel fished in her sleeves for something, then paused. “I wonder… My child, does that contraption on your arm take phone calls?”

Frisk blinked, baffled, and shook their head.

“Oh well. In that case, take this.” She dropped some boxy device into their hands. “I have a spare, just in case, and the fastest way to north Home will take me by my house. I’ll grab my spare phone, and then you can call me if you have any questions or concerns.”

Call her? With what?

Seeing their confusion, Toriel’s smile dipped. “My child, do you… not know what a cell phone is?”

A phone? Frisk turned it over in their hands, inspecting it. It had the speaker holes and the number pad of their old landline, but where was the cord?

“Uh, wow,” the cyclops said quietly. “How backwards can you get?”

“Ahem.” Toriel coughed pointedly, silencing him, and gave them one final smile. “I am very sorry I can’t stop to explain things more thoroughly, but hopefully everything will settle soon and I can give you a proper welcome. Goodbye for now.”

With that, she and the other monster left, walking swiftly towards whatever problem she was needed for.

Frisk didn’t move for a long moment, wondering if they would suddenly come back.

They were monsters… and they hadn’t tried to do anything to them. Actually no, that wasn’t true, they had: they’d given Frisk a bed and a quiet place to rest after three days of stress and anxiety.

Maybe monsters were… nice? That was an odd thought, after everything they’d ever been told, but it wasn’t like anyone in Belome had ever seen a monster in person, while Frisk had just had a (one-sided) conversation with one where she hadn’t tried to hurt them at all.

They were so confused. At least they weren’t tired anymore.

They were hungry though. Where did their bag end up?

They found it underneath the cot, along with their stick, but as they inspected the ration bars, wondering if they were really that hungry just yet, they smelled something absolutely heavenly.

It smelled like freshly-baked bread.

…Toriel had said no one would hurt them, and she’d been nice so far. Was it really safe to go outside?

Their stomach growled and made the decision for them. Frisk stepped out of the tent.


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