Script's Personal Story of Bitter-Tasting Papers
Chapter 1: Snatched
Script’s Bitter Taste of Cruelty in the Multiverse: A Skele-napping
Chapter 1: Snatched
Post-event Script quote: “This was [the start of] probably the worst moments of my life so far, though I can’t say it compares to some of the things I’ve seen and heard of within the multiverse. It was still rather awful, though. […] Unfortunately, this event was a cause for a lot more notoriety of my presence within the multiverse. *(Sighs).* I miss the old days when others had no knowledge of me… I think it’s funny, ironic really, the few times I’d felt jealous of the ones with their own story. I already understood that it wasn’t right to think like that, but now I truly understand why that is. […] Rarely anyone who has a lack of adventure focuses on the hardships that come with it.”
There is a Multiverse centered completely around a world known to the creators as Undertale. Born from the Undertale game, this multiverse grew swiftly and has thrived with glutton on the millions of creative and inspirational energy put into the multiverse. Within this multiverse has lived a being that has kept record of nearly every existing thing in the multiverse. This being, known as Script, had only recently become clearly noticed despite existence since not long after the exuberant largeness of the multiverse had become apparent. Script knows nearly everything due to the influence of creators, whether they’d known he was listening or not.
Script is a peculiar skeleton of the Undertale Multiverse. He knew just about everything that occurred within this multiverse. He’s required to know as much as possible for his creator-given job; Script calls these creators “makers,” as that was what he decided to call them when he first began his job despite knowing they are more commonly known as creators. Script’s job for the multiverse is to collect and keep all records of every occurrence, place, being, and so-on within the Multiversal Library. The records that are not common knowledge or considered dangerous to be known about are kept within a secret archive.
The records are not all observed and recorded by Script himself, though that is his most common means of gaining information. Script has a few other main sources, those being the books within multiverses, the stories written by makers, and the rare occurrence in which he can faintly hear the makers themselves talking about creations. All in all, Script’s job is a constantly progressing one.
This story, however, is not about Script’s emergence and how his job works. Rather, this is a story about the one time this being of near-infinite multiversal knowledge had nearly been forced to tell the secrets of the multiverse to one of the most volatile creatures that lived within it. There are very few times the Record Keeper of the Undertale Multiverse had found himself in a very compromising position thanks to his previous anonymity, and of these times Script has been able to handle these occurrences somewhat easily. Oftentimes, if one desires to steal from the library, they are banished, and those that learn of the secret archive are dusted to protect the knowledge. This time, Script was practically helpless.
A Day Unlike Any Other…
The day had started like any other, for Script at least. The vastly knowledgeable being had been observing the destruction of an Alternate Universe, one with an underground with hardly any walls. Script recalls feeling reverence for the ability to see waterfall’s explosive destruction from the door of the Hotland Lab. This was a risky observation, as was most of his field work, because the chaotic destructor of universes himself was the cause. Error, a Sans having originated from a “happily ever after” Aftertale timeline, was wreaking havoc without pause. Script understands why the destructive Sans does what he does.
According to Script’s research, this manic destroyer was fueled by resentment for his loss of his “happily ever after” only just after reaching it, and had reverted back to his desire to destroy everything to prevent suffering, only now it was a warped idea having originated from his time spent in the save screen. Said idea, a rather common knowledge among the makers, was that all timelines branching from the original Undertale were glitches and must be eradicated. Script often found a form of admiration and respect for the strength of the destructive skeleton, though he often finds sadness for lost stories. Script, however, knows that endings are just as important as beginnings, and the two tie together perfectly.
While Script had been busy watching the destruction and reactions to such chaos, he was caught off-guard. It was during an explosion that shook the entire underground and whipped Scripts face with sharp air when his own distress had begun. A deep, languid yet cutting voice spoke from behind Script, making him just and whip around to face the stranger. Script finds the room dark, nearly pitch-black in the corners furthest from the light of the open doorway where the paranoid skeleton stood. Script briefly takes in the absence of any working appliances and decides it’s possible the CORE had exploded, thus cutting off power. That was hardly important compared to the figure standing among the shadows a mere five feet away from the Record Keeper, a red circular light at about lower-chest level in comparison to Script’s height. The stranger in the shadows had said something, but Script had been too startled and filled with anxiety to understand nor recall it.
Script meekly calls out, “Um, excuse me?” The stranger then asks if Script is the Storyteller, which immediately tips Script off as something being wrong; no one would ask a random skeleton in this situation if they were the Storyteller unless they had information they were following. Storyteller, a Sans that owns the Multiversal Library, is one person Script knows well enough to call him an acquaintance, which makes him even more anxious about the alarms going off in his soul. Caught off-guard and feeling anxious, Script fumbles to try and answer. Unfortunately, the stranger takes this as a sign of something else and calls out the anxious skeleton as being “the Scribe.” Said skeleton’s marrow runs cold with his paper-like soul clenching in fear.
Script tries to be elusive, stammering a claim about not knowing a Script, yet the stranger suddenly leaps forward, only leaving mere inches between their faces. Script had tried to pull away as he was struck with terror, yet he felt his soul clench painfully in what he understands to be gravity-manipulating magic. The realization that he is stuck along with the recognition of his provoker has Script barely managing to push down the desire to physically panic and flail.
The stranger casually claims that, if the scared skeleton isn’t the Scribe, then the wimpy skeleton will serve as a new plaything. Yet he then goes back on his word and says that he won't. A brief, tense pause fills the inches of space between them, and then the stranger leans just enough forward to reveal his manic face in the light as he speaks, “After all, I know when someone is LYING.”
Now within the light streaming in from the open doorway is the clear visage of an eyelight-less skull with tarry, hate-filled tears streaming from his sockets, trailing down around the sociopathic smile on the dangerous skeleton’s face. Before Script, hunched forward and crowding all personal space, stands Killer, a skeleton known for his merciless torture. Not only that, but Script also recognizes the sense of Nightmare’s claim, an ex-guardian and now king of negativity. This combination of problems has Script utterly dreading the stark possibility that the king of negativity had been seeking Script out personally.
A brush of cold, sharp metal against Script’s vertebrae has the panicked skeleton freeze completely, sweat dripping from his skull from the stress and terror. Killer speaks in a somewhat careless yet eager voice as he states he’s not here to play games. Despite his terror, Script stammers out that he also doesn’t feel like playing games and, with a knowingly hopeless attempt, then says he’d rather not play at all with the other skeleton. Killer seems to find this funny in some way, his smile inching upward manically ever so slightly, though the blade presses more firmly against Script’s neck.
The pressure on Script’s vertebrae causes him to tense further, not wanting to add a wound to what he’s sure will become many more. With this obvious physical show of threat, Killer releases Script and states that the Scribe is coming with him as a delivery to his boss. Killer then turns to face the dark lab as if to walk away, obviously expecting Script to follow. Thoughtlessly, thanks to his lack of communication skills, Script asks if he means Nightmare, then gives a strangled, soft yelp as the murderous skeleton suddenly turns halfway to face the papery skeleton. He gives Script a lecherous smirk and condescendingly says he knew the meek skeleton had it in him to tell the truth.
Killer’s words seem to kick off some form of manic impatience in the merciless skeleton, as he grabs Script's arm and yanks him into the dark. Script yelps fearfully and stumbles after him, leaning as far away from Killer as he can without losing too much balance. Despite his meager attempts to pull away, Killer’s continuous and random jerking motions on Scripts arm have the nervous skeleton somewhat scattered mentally. However, as they move deeper into the dark, Script becomes desperate to escape upon seeing a black, swirling portal near the other end of the room. With panic, Script begins to yank at his own arm, trying to pry Killer’s grip from his wrist.
Script’s efforts to escape are short-lived as it only takes Killer roughly ten seconds before he responds. Quick as a flash of glinting metal, Killer’s knife slices the air in Script’s face. The weker skeleton cries out in shock before he feels a prominent stinging on his right cheek. His free hand immediately rises to his face and is placed where sludge-like marrow seeps from a somewhat deep cut across his cheek. A soft whimper elicits as he covers the cut that begins to burn, all the while giving the shadowed Killer a fearful, meek expression. Killer laughs at this before suddenly flinging Script into the portal. The raw scream of terror fills the room only briefly before the fearful skeleton passes through the portal. Killer smiles with sadistic satisfaction before following after the Scribe with a languid stroll. He doesn’t doubt the weak skeleton is already restrained.
The portal closes after the sadistic skeleton fully moves through, thus leaving the lab empty. However, what appeared empty with silence is suddenly struck with a soft whimper coming from the upper floor. A short, stocky shape shuffles to peer down from the top of the escalator near the entrance facing towards Waterfall. Glasses glint upon their face as a weak, stray reflection briefly catches upon the lenses. With a whimper, a stuttering female voice ponders on the idea of contacting someone of greater power in the multiverse. However, the female doesn’t have time to reach for her interdimensional phone before the lab is suddenly violently shaking and rubble begins to crumble from the walls and ceiling at an alarming rate. It only takes twenty seconds for the building to be ripped apart, leaving no evidence behind of the kidnapping, nor of the witness.
The Alternate Universe is quickly disposed of not long after.
Of the Beginning.