《Loose Talk Around Tables》


 Height of Autumn

    ¡°Humanity is dead, lay their souls like the windblown grasses of winter buried beneath the feet of fresh fallen snow, for the suffering which hath been wrought is at long last cast behind us through the shared misery of their loss.¡±


    Seemed like nonsense the first few times he read it. Only made sense when he cast aside the metaphors, needless verbosity, and archaic sentence structure. Gus downed another shot of whiskey and winced. That one didn¡¯t go down too smooth. He looked back out the window. The anti-human graffiti covered the entire north wall of town hall. A brown cat he didn¡¯t recognize was just beginning to scrub the facade, and he no doubt had his work cut out for him.


    ¡°Fuuuuck me.¡± he said. He slapped a five down on the counter. ¡°Must¡¯ve took some time to spray all that bullshit.¡± The stool creaked as he pushed himself back from the bar and straightened his denim overalls.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t there last night when I left.¡± Grillby¡¯s fiery lips crackled and sputtered. ¡°Strange ideas in the kids¡¯ heads these days. Only one human kid in town. He¡¯s never done us any harm.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Gus began to swagger over to the entrance of the bar to try and cut the conversation he started short before it entered into territory he didn¡¯t want to explore, but Grillby called after him again before he even had a chance to touch the door.


    ¡°You found a buyer for the old ranch yet?¡±


    Gus tensed up. He huffed and turned around, cracking a forced smile at the fire elemental.


    ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m still looking for someone willing to pay the fifty thousand.¡± Gus turned around again and straightened his cap, tugging at some of the grey hairs on his head, brushing them back under his cap so that they didn¡¯t get in the way of his eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m tellin¡¯ ya, Gus- the thirty-five thousand I¡¯m offering is the best you¡¯re bound to get in this town.¡±


    It was a familiar voice. A regular at the bar, like Gus. Arnie. That purple, one-armed bastard.


    Gus tried ignoring Arnie at first, instead grumbling and trying to move to the front door of the bar. He had opened the door a crack, but froze in place anyway when he heard Arnie poke at the subject again.


    ¡°I¡¯m just sayin¡¯ man¡­¡±


    He looked out the front door when he froze. The red sunlight of the afternoon painted the forested peaks in the distance, the trees cascading down their slopes mostly naked and bare, while those nestled in town and the valley were still a dazzling array of colors. Bright yellows, reds, oranges, golds, a few deep purples. It was a sight he had become more familiar with from this angle recently. For some reason Arnie loved to pester Gus about his offer every day right as his hand was at the door or just before. But today, the foreground was a little different.


    For one, there was the eyesore. The graffiti. Soon to be washed away. But even closer was the sight of that human kid that Gus saw every now and then around town. The boy was staring right out at the graffiti. He looked uncomfortable. Accompanying him was a tall reptilian monster that Gus did not recognize. She wore ripped blue jeans and a purple jacket. Must¡¯ve been a friend of his or something. She ushered him along down the street and encouraged him to ignore the unauthorized mural.


    It was only when Gus heard Arnie snap at him for what very well may have been the fifth time in a row that he realized he had been staring blankly into space for around fifty seconds.


    Gus turned back to Arnie. ¡°My 35k,¡± he said.


    Gus stared at him, slack-jawed for a moment. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Yeah. Yeah I¡¯ll think about it.¡±


    But he wouldn¡¯t.


    <hr>


    Gus pulled into his steep driveway after the long trip around the traffic barrier. They said it¡¯d be out of the way by tomorrow morning, and he hoped that was true. It had been a right pain in the ass to take an extra few minutes every day to get home when he was just so close. The sun was less than half an hour from dipping behind the mountains now. His truck door creaked as he got out of the old pickup. That creak. God that fucking creak. He hated it. Cut right through the still autumn air, carving away at the peace and quiet. It was worse in the winter when the snow made everything come to a near silence. Then it really irritated him.


    Not as much as that insane woman across the street irritated him, though. Always shrieking and screaming about something. It was never coherent, always drunken, and accompanied by another voice. Also female, but higher pitched, not raspy like her either, didn¡¯t sound as damaged by screams. Definitely younger.


    The screams were bound to come sooner or later, but for the moment they weren¡¯t present. Just the door. The god damned door.


    The moment he got inside he threw his truck keys on the hook and lumbered over to the fridge, swinging it open. Cold pizza. He couldn¡¯t give enough of a fuck to even throw it in the microwave. He was just looking to stuff his face with something. Grillby charged way too high for his dishes but his booze was oddly affordable, so it was almost always Ice E¡¯s. Maybe the diner every now and then. Didn¡¯t make a difference, so long as it didn¡¯t carve a hole in his bank account. Tasted okay, didn¡¯t make him sick, and sent him to bed with a full belly.


    <hr>


    He woke up sweating. The springs in his mattress creaked under his weight as he shot up, and his pawpads were soaked. He couldn¡¯t stop panting, every breath drew in a few strands of his messy greying locks.


    An intense nightmare. Nothing special. Just. Being crushed. He was driving in the mountains and a massive earthquake knocked him into a ditch, and soon after a rockslide trapped him. He watched as the body of his pickup buckled under the weight of the stones, the metal screeching and bellowing as the rocks pressed down to kill him. It was right as they really clamped down on him that he shot awake.


    He sluggishly hobbled downstairs to the fridge and reached in for a beer. No sleeping like this. He sat down in the shitty, creaky rocking chair on his front porch, under a dim porch light. He sipped at his beer and watched the bug zapper as what little insects remained this time of year met their untimely demise. True hillbilly entertainment.


    That was when the screaming started across the street. It was completely incoherent, but constantly growing in intensity. The sounds of bumps and bangs, the shattering of glass.


    The door exploded.


    ¡°-AND DON¡¯T COME BACK TIL YOU SORTED YER SHIT! AIN¡¯T NO FUCKIN¡¯ DAUGHTER OF MINE GON¡¯ BE A SKANK!¡±


    The figure who exited the front door slammed it furiously behind her, the sound echoed through the trees like a gunshot. Silently, she crossed the mossy front lawn across the street and steadily became more visible as she approached the street light.


    Gus recognized her.


    It was the lizard whose existence he had been unaware of mere hours earlier. The one with the human kid outside the bar. Good God, had she lived here this whole time? He had been here for a year now, and never noticed. She stopped moving once she reached the other side of the street. She was looking right at him.


    Why was she looking at him?


    Gus realized he had been staring this entire time. Some fat, shirtless, middle-aged bastard with a bottle of beer in his left hand, sitting up on his front porch in the infant hours of the morning, was staring at a teenage girl crossing the street. He felt very exposed. God damn he must have looked like a creep. Or at the least he looked very, very awkward.


    ¡°The hell are you staring at?¡± She shouted at him.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± What was he even supposed to say in this situation?


    ¡°Nevermind, old fart.¡± She scoffed and started marching down the road toward town.


    With that situation so swiftly resolving itself, Gus turned back to his bottle of beer, and slowly finished it. When he was done, he leaned back, closed his eyes for just a second, and drifted off to sleep.

 The Smell of a Drizzle on Leaves

    He woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. A light drizzle was falling. It was daylight, grey clouds like a sheet looming over the trees.


    The person ringing him was not a saved contact. Somebody new. He answered the call.


    ¡°Yello?¡±


    ¡°Hello. We¡¯ve been meaning to call you about your car¡¯s-¡± he immediately hung up on the prerecorded scam message.


    It was two o¡¯clock in the afternoon. He had slept somewhere around thirteen hours straight on his front porch. Of course his back now had a stiffness and an ache to it as a consequence. He grumbled, standing up and bracing his hands on his back to pop his spine. A sharp grunt through teeth slammed shut echoed down the hill and across the road as he bent back. Damn, that hurt. But he felt more limber now.


    Luckily he received no calls today. A benefit of working freelance, though the detriment of not making steady money was there. Time to just be a hick and go into town for a drink, then.


    <hr>


    The barrier on the way to town was removed, actually. Cutting Gus¡¯s trip down to a paltry drive. As he took his seat at the bar, he heard murmurs from the table behind him, and tuned in to eavesdrop.


    ¡°My boy, Snowy- he told me that purple lizard girl, whatnot, you know, the big one? She¡¯s been hanging around with that human boy the Dreemurrs adopted years back.¡±


    ¡°No shit? My niece says she¡¯s scared of that kid. Wonder what got her and a quiet type like Kris hanging around each other.¡±


    ¡°Well you know, it¡¯s like my Mama used to say, I guess. Odd pairs are made every day¡­¡±


    Gus was sitting on a barstool, twisted around in his seat, staring out at the graffiti. About a third of it was washed away by now, but they¡¯d have to make a second pass. Some ugly smearing on some of the bricks. His eavesdropping on the conversation between the two monsters seated to his right was cut off when Grillby approached him.


    ¡°Hey Gus. Will it be the usual?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Grillby put a shot glass on the bar and filled it with whiskey. Gus downed it and it went down poorly. He winced and grimaced as the alcohol burned his nostrils.


    ¡°You sure you need to be drinking right now? You look unwell.¡±


    Gus was taken aback. Arnie had come up from behind him.


    "Whatchu talkin'' ''bout, Arnie? You know I only have two shots a day."


    ¡°You uh¡­ your eyes." The purple cat answered. "They look tired. Like you didn¡¯t sleep well.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he sighed. ¡°I slept a little hard last night. Too much, actually. I got more than enough.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Arnie eased up in the barstool next to Gus. ¡°You have any idea what caused it?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Could be the stress...¡± Arnie answered in an instant.


    Gus looked back at him. The purple cat sat straight up.


    Without missing a beat, Arnie spoke again, ¡°Stress¡­ caused by unfinished business.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    You must be joking.


    Arnie wasn¡¯t a bad man. He was a big jolly guy just interested in buying some land. He was probably the friendliest guy in town, but he had moments where he knew what he wanted and he would pursue it tirelessly in his own way. Even if it was something like the purchase of a piece of land he didn¡¯t have the money for. Dancing his own little waltz of friendly manipulation.


    ¡°Business which I can help you with.¡±


    What the fuck was this?


    Arnie approached this with some kind of nerve. But maybe his confidence wasn¡¯t misplaced. He knew his offer was the highest Gus had received in town so far. But Gus couldn¡¯t just hand that land away for fifteen grand less than it was worth.


    Arnie was about to continue his pitch when Gus cut him off, mildly irritated. ¡°Can- can we not do this today?¡±


    Arnie froze. He curled his lips in, his whiskers bunching up. He huffed out a hot breath through his nose. ¡°Okay. Some other time.¡±


    ¡°May I please have my second shot?¡± Gus asked, turning back to Grillby.


    Grillby poured Gus his second shot. This one went as rough as the last, and the bitter taste lingered in his throat as he left a five on the counter and walked out the door.


    <hr>


    When Gus got back to his place he noticed his porch was dusty. Well, he hadn¡¯t just noticed it. He had known. But for whatever reason, the mood he was in made him feel like doing something about it. So he found the old straw broom in his kitchen closet and started sweeping, brushing bit after bit of the dry filth out from under his roof and into the rain. He was about halfway through when he heard the sound of shoes scraping the asphalt of the road and the squishing of wet, fallen leaves being pushed around and stepped on.


    It was the lizard girl. She barely seemed to notice the light drizzle dampening her hair. Instead it was Gus she seemed to notice. He was staring again. She turned to look at him, and though her eyes were covered by a curtain of thick, damp brunette locks, he could feel her white-hot stare piercing through him. But it didn¡¯t stir him. He didn¡¯t feel fear. No. He just felt a vague sense of unease, layered with sadness.


    ¡°What are you staring at, old fart?¡± She asked him.


    ¡°Someone who doesn¡¯t want to go home.¡±


    The words just slipped out. It was like he didn¡¯t even consciously say it. The thought popped in his mind and out it came, as though it had a will of its own. He gave away his own shock at his directness by lightly dropping his jaw.


    The lizard girl must have noticed, because the next words out of her mouth were ¡°Mind your own damn business.¡± She stormed off, hands in her jacket, toward her house.


    He watched her go, and went right back to sweeping his porch.


    <hr>


    It was right as he sat in bed that his cell phone rang.


    ¡°Hello?¡± he answered, hoping it would be a genuine call this time, and not some scam.


    ¡°Excuse me.¡± The voice was a woman¡¯s. Soft and gentle, slightly weathered and motherly. ¡°Is this Gus?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be me.¡±


    ¡°I understand you do¡­¡± The sound of shuffling paper crackled over the speaker. She must have had one of his fliers. ¡°...freelance maintenance and construction? Plumbing, woodwork, things like that?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be under the umbrella of things that I do, yes ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve... I¡¯ve got a bad leak in the pipes under my sink, and I¡¯ve been saving up to replace my kitchen cabinets for some time now. I figure it would be nice to have them hand cut and carved.¡±


    First time he had been asked to make something by hand for a while. And for once it wasn¡¯t a god damn porch. Something lighter, less rough, easier to move around and install. Something for a quaint little kitchen.


    ¡°Absolutely. I¡¯d love to. We can discuss rates when I... uhh... see you in person.¡±


    ¡°Oh, delightful! What¡¯s the soonest you can come over?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯ve got nothing else going on all week so far. Just name a time.¡±


    ¡°Great, great! Come down around five thirty! I live down that short road you take at the west end of North Street, right before the gate. It¡¯s a right turn.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    ¡°I look forward to meeting you!¡±


    ¡°Me too, miss-.¡±


    ¡°Toriel. Please, call me Toriel.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you then, Miss Toriel. You have a nice night, now.¡±


    "Thanks, you too."


    Gus went to sleep feeling a little excited about what tomorrow held in store.

 A Vile Taste in the Mouth

    Gus was awoken around seven hours later by shouting from across the street. Like all the time, it was completely unintelligible. But it carried that kind of unpleasantness to it that let you know it was one of untethered rage. It was so violent and crazed that it terrified him, and he felt he had to investigate. He raced down the stairs as fast as he could and he barely had anything on other than his boxers that he slept in, just a blanket slung over his shoulders..


    By the time he opened the door, the purple girl was already halfway across her yard. The open door of the house behind her was quickly slammed shut by a gangly pink arm. She was marching at a steady pace in the shade of the forest¡¯s long shadows cast by the sunrise. Her eyes were hidden by the brunette mop on her head, but her mouth was twisted in a deep scowl as she stared down at the ground before her. When she reached her side of the road, Gus shouted after her.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    She froze, but didn''t even look in his direction. Instead gazing up at the clear morning sky, breathing deeply, as though he was another distraction and nuisance she really, really did not want to deal with.


    ¡°...Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°What do you care?¡± her voice creaked, like she was choking back something. She focused her gaze back to the ground, and continued marching off toward town.


    ¡°A lot¡­¡± Gus said under his breath, watching her walk off.


    <hr>


    The rest of the day up until he went to the house on North Street was miserable. It was just¡­ lingering in regret. He thought of all the time he had spent right across the road. It was just a straight year of him hearing screaming and hollering and shouting, and he simply sat by and listened to it, caught up in his own bullshit. Now he knows what it is, what the screaming is about, and the most he could bring himself to do was just stand and watch that poor girl walk away.


    He should have done something. Called the police, asked her what was really going on at her home, but she probably wouldn''t like that, and his involvement would likely only make things worse. Painful memories lingered in the back of Gus¡¯s mind.


    He was wallowing in these waves of self-pity and pangs of regret when the alarm on his phone went off. Five o¡¯clock. He got his things ready, and as he got into the driver¡¯s seat the screaming began again. He tried to drown it out with the sound of his pickup¡¯s old engine. But he simply could not drown out how shit he was feeling. Not without drink. And he was not going to do that. Never again.


    <hr>


    The house was quaint. A little two story. Wood siding painted beige, red curtains in the windows, and blue shutters. An insignia hung directly beneath the peak of the roof. A circle, two wings on the sides of it, and beneath it three triangles, two pointing down, and one in the middle pointing up.


    In the driveway a red minivan sat, apparently having just pulled up. Out stepped a tall white goat monster, accompanied by a short teenage boy, a human. The same one Gus saw hanging out with the neighbor¡¯s kid the other day. Right when he thought he had put the uncomfortable and familiar emotions behind him, they flared up again.


    The goat woman waved at him, and he tried to compose himself. God¡­ did this kid know about his neighbor? God, he just hoped she was telling somebody - at least someone with more gumption than he had.


    He got out of his pickup and went to meet the woman.


    ¡°Hello! You must be Gus.¡± She greeted him warmly, with a soft smile.


    Gus loomed over her by over a foot. She was quite tall though, almost seven feet.


    ¡°Yeah, that would be me.¡±


    ¡°My name is Toriel Dreemurr! And this is my son, Kris.¡± She gestured to the boy, and he waved back with a blank expression on his face. Well, it looked blank. Gus couldn¡¯t tell, his hair covered his eyes.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked. He must¡¯ve still been visibly shaken.


    ¡°Y-yeah. I¡¯m good. Just didn¡¯t sleep too well, is all.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you poor man, come on inside, I¡¯ll make you some coffee.¡±


    ¡°Oh that¡¯s fine, I¡¯m all well and good.¡± he said.


    Toriel shot him a glance that read a calm fury. ¡°I insist,¡± she said firmly, but not with any real aggression backing it.


    ¡°Oh. Uh. Thank you. I¡¯ll gladly have some.¡±


    Toriel smiled and unlocked the door. Kris went in first. ¡°Come on in, tell me, how do you take it?¡±


    <hr>


    The house had no lights on. It was lit so well by the late afternoon sun that there was no need for it yet. The scent of butterscotch and cinnamon hung in the air. It soothed him, eased his nerves. His stomach began to settle and the upsetting feeling about what had happened earlier faded slightly.


    "So, Dreemurr, huh?" Gus asked. "I take it you must be Asgore''s wife? It''s been a while since I talked with him."


    Toriel scowled. "Ex-wife. The less said about it the better."


    Holy shit she looked pissed. Gus assumed that''d mean Asgore most certainly wasn''t home.


    Gus told Toriel he liked his coffee as creamy and sugary as possible. She accordingly made a cup to these specifications, and made a cute little heart shape on the surface with the last bit of creamer.


    "Wow, this is - this is cute. Nice. Thank you." Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Toriel gestured to the kitchen table. "Sit."


    Gus sat down where she pointed, and she took a seat one chair away from him. Kris came up beside them and rummaged through the fridge. He pulled out a slice of pie from a ziploc bag and put it on a plate in the microwave. He pulled out a chair at the table and sat a respectable distance from Gus just like his mother did, one empty seat in between them.


    Toriel gestured to the cabinets and sink. "So, I originally wanted you to fix my sink first, but while you''re enjoying your coffee, I figure it may be best we talk about the cabinets, hmm?"


    "That seems fair to me." Gus took a sip of his coffee, lamentably destroying the delicate heart Toriel had so carefully drawn on the surface of his hot beverage.


    The microwave beeped and Kris got up from his seat. Toriel pointed at the cabinets. They were a light color, but faded by time. Old. In need of a replacement. Gus thought about how nice it would be to build something from scratch like this.


    "So, I like the light color" she started, "but I want to try something else, too. Maybe an inlay?"


    As Toriel was speaking, Kris put the plate with the slice of pie down in the middle of the table and cut off a chunk with his fork, laying it on a second plate he placed in front of Gus.


    Gus smelled the pie. The butterscotch and cinnamon scent was coming from it, now. Even reheated in a microwave, it looked absurdly good. He looked back to Kris. The boy smiled and handed Gus a fork.


    Gus took a bite and was immediately swept away by the flavor.


    "Ma''am." He interrupted Toriel, who was mid-gesture, knee-deep in going over what her idea for the cabinets were. "This is the finest pie I''ve ever had."


    Toriel remained frozen in her awkward pose. "Thank you." She smiled.


    <hr>


    The source of Toriel''s leaky pipes had been a clogged P trap. The simplest thing in the world to clear. He flatly refused to charge for it. Besides, the cabinets would be something special, and they would make him a decent amount of money.


    The frame and doors would be white oak. There were only two cabinets to be made, and both would have walnut inlays of the unique insignia that he saw under her roof, centered on the door of each cabinet. The only issue was he had neither white oak, nor walnut. So that meant he had to take a trip to the lumber yard just outside the hardwood store.


    The sun was just peeking above the trees at the end of the yard when he pulled in, and a rusty old sedan cut him off out of nowhere and nearly made him wreck.


    Gus slammed on the breaks and grabbed for his chest, his fingers digging into his fur and flesh, his heart pounding. The sedan crookedly found its way in one of the lot''s poorly-maintained parking spots, oil dribbling on the grass that shot out from one of the many cracks in the asphalt beneath the car. When the door opened, he saw a ginger, bushy-mopped reptilian woman with pink scales. Tall and gangly, she hobbled her way out of her shitbox and slammed the door behind her. She tightly held a bottle of liquor in a brown paper bag in her left hand. She took a swig before belching and screaming at the top of her lungs at some poor teenage kid on break.


    "Hey, sugar! Y''all got-- hic --cleaners in there???"


    Gus immediately realized her hoarse voice as the one he heard coming from across the street on a near-daily basis. Something overtook him, and he immediately felt sick to his stomach, quickly driving toward the lumber yard.


    He was only a few hundred feet away from the parking lot when he couldn''t hold the feeling in anymore. He pulled aside, narrowly missing some poor yard worker. The worker was about to launch into a tidal wave of screams and curses directed toward Gus when he saw that Gus was very much not well. The driver''s door erupted and Gus nearly collapsed to the ground.


    Gus''s knees were bent, his palms stabbing into them so that he could keep from falling over.


    "Yo. You alright man?" the worker asked.


    Gus couldn''t answer. Instead he vomited.


    "Oh God. Oh my God, are you sick? Do you need a doctor?"


    Gus raised a hand, and with the other he wiped his mouth.


    "No." he was finally able to answer. "No, no. I''m fine. Just... something I ate."


    <hr>


    The drive home was drowned out by music from the radio. Gus didn''t want to think, he just wanted to get home. The woman getting out of her car, the embarrassment of nearly killing a man and losing his lunch in front of him from the anxiety¡­ but it became impossible to take his mind off all those things the moment he looked toward the house across the road again.


    She was out there. The girl. Sitting in front of a firepit, warming her hands in between a few shivers brought on by the cold night.


    But for some reason, Gus didn''t feel uncomfortable now that the other end of the situation was right in front of him. Seeing her alone like that tempted him to speak up again. And hopefully this time get something more than being brushed off. He opened his creaky door and straightened his overalls as he got out.


    "Hey." he called out into the night.


    She looked up at him.


    "What now old-timer?" she asked in a frustrated huff, just wanting him to go away. Gus could feel her eyes roll from here.


    He chuckled. Wow. Not at all what he wanted to hear but he supposed it''d be the best he''d get from a moody girl.


    "I uh... met your mom at the hardware store earlier."


    "Oh yeah? What of it?"


    Gus paused a moment.


    "Not much, just... thought she seemed like kind of a bitch."


    Her eyes widened at that. She sat erect. And she laughed a little. "What''s your deal, old man?" she asked, but this time without hostility in her voice. A breakthrough.


    "Nothing, I just see you sitting out in front of a fire all alone in the twilight of a cold autumn evening, wondering why you''re there and not in a nice warm house, figured I''d at the very least try to start a conversation or somethin''."


    "Yeah... I got my reasons for being out here."


    "Well," he picked up the small block of walnut he''d be using for the inlays and went to put it in his workshop, "don''t catch cold out here, okay?"


    "Yeah, sure, whatever..."


    As he finished putting up the last of the white oak, he heard the rustbucket pull up into the driveway. He felt his chest tighten and his heart start pumping, but this time he remained composed.


    He saw the girl standing up on his way to his front door. Her mother got out of the car, and with her back turned to Gus, she approached her daughter. She was about a foot taller, though much more thin.


    Gus listened closely for whatever they had to say to one another. It was hardly above a whisper, but his ears were good, and they could pick the discussion up.


    "Have you had time to think?" The woman''s voice was haggard and hoarse, severe, even at a speaking volume.


    "Yes." The daughter''s shoulders scrunched up against her neck and she held her arms close.


    "...can I please come back inside tonight? I''m sorry for talking back."


    There was no sincerity in the girl''s voice, only fear. The woman nodded, and they went inside.


    That night, as Gus lay in bed, he wept quietly.

 Butterscotch and Cinnamon

    He woke up from another nightmare. Rushing down the road toward the end of the valley, the tall trees towering above him on both sides. He had a wound in his gut. A deep, stabbing pain so vivid he could have sworn it was real. The feeling of running from something you can''t describe, yet you know you don''t want it to catch up with you. But when he lurched awake all he could feel were the sheets he had fallen asleep in. The area around his pawpads were again damp with his sweat. Nothing was after him.


    It was another fall morning. And a frigid one. It had gotten so cold during the night that the frost had caused many of the leaves clinging to the trees to fall to the ground. A little less than half. The bare patches of limbs and branches made it easier to see deep into the woods. It was fairly early. Around half-past seven. The sun was just peeking over the mountains to the east. Gus sat down at his kitchen table and turned on the radio.


    The sound of classic country at a low volume echoed through the room as he cooked breakfast.


    After quickly downing a bacon and egg sandwich, Gus washed his hands and rolled out a sheet of paper. He began drawing designs with the dimensions he had measured from Toriel''s kitchen. He was part way through his first design when he heard a tap at his front door.


    A few seconds passed without anything following, so he went back to scribbling. A second tap rang through the kitchen. Gus wasn''t the type to believe that ¡®third time¡¯s the charm¡¯. He grumbled, slowly got up, felt his knees pop, and took a sip of his sweet tea.


    He opened the door and was immediately pelted on the forehead with something. It didn''t hurt too bad, but it elicited a groan from him. He opened his eyes and looked down. A pebble. He looked back up to see the girl from across the street standing there, on his front lawn, with a startled expression.


    "Oh. Hello." Gus rubbed the sore spot on his forehead.


    "Hey uh. I''m uh, headed to school." she said, sliding her hands into her jacket''s pockets.


    She threw pebbles at his front door to tell him that? Odd, awkward, and unnecessary, but Gus stopped himself from getting cross, and instead opted to be more polite.


    "Well then, have a good day. Make sure to be safe getting there, okay?"


    "Yeah, sure." She said awkwardly as she backed up toward the road, she began walking down the street, and she waved bye. Gus gently waved back.


    He shut the front door behind him and sat back down at the table, taking another sip of his tea. As he looked back down at the paper, he broke into a slight smile, the painful memories of last night fading slightly. He had the odd sense that things would be alright.


    <hr>


    Gus finished his drawings of ideas for the cabinets, lingered around like a fat bastard for the next few hours, and then stopped by Grillby''s before he went to Toriel''s house. She''d be home earlier today, so he found himself at the bar at the unusual time of half past two in the afternoon.


    The graffiti was now almost completely gone. An entire two thirds had been vigorously scrubbed away and now only the first words of each line remained.


    "It''s about gone by now." Gus heard a discussion behind him.


    "Yeah. They still got no clue who did it. But most people are in agreement it was one of those kids from the school."


    "You never know..." Gus heard the sound of a zippo lighter clink open. "...could''ve been some other loon."


    "Yeah..."


    "Snowy have any idea what''s going on?"


    "I asked him if it could be that purple girl, but he said she doesn''t have a problem with humans. Remember? She''s hanging out with that human boy Asgore and Toriel adopted."


    "Oh yeah..."


    "As a matter of fact, he says the other day she even jumped to the kid¡¯s defense."


    "From what?"


    "He didn''t want to say..."


    "What''s that girl''s name anyway?"


    "I think it''s S-"


    Gus felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped in his seat.


    "Hey, Gus!"


    By the fucking Angel. It was Arnie.


    "Just wondering, if you were interested in talking about that offer I had."


    Gus turned to face Arnie and gave him a look that shot right through the fat cat.


    "No."


    Arnie''s face dropped.


    Gus turned back to the bar and rapped his knuckles on the bar. "Grillby, the usual!"


    Both shots went down smooth this time, the bitter taste less of an issue. Gus walked out as quick as he came in, satisfied.


    <hr>


    Toriel''s minivan was already in the driveway by the time Gus pulled up. He knocked on the door and was surprised to see it answered by - of all people - the purple girl he¡¯d come to know as his neighbor.


    "Oh, why uh... hello," he said, straightening his cap.


    "Hey" she said, looking more surprised than he was. "So... you''re Gus."


    "...yeah."


    Now that Gus was up close, he noticed she stood just a bit lower than his shoulders, maybe a little over six feet. She wasn''t thin, though. She seemed to be naturally stocky.


    "Susie? Is that Gus at the door?" he heard Toriel calling from inside the house.


    "Susie, huh?" he asked, with a cocked grin. ¡°That¡¯s a nice name.¡±


    "Shut up and get in the house, old man" she rolled her eyes.


    "Yeah, it''s him!"


    "Should''ve figured it''d be you from the way Miss T described you." Susie said as walked in and sat on the couch.


    Kris was sat next to her with an enormous bowl of popcorn in his arms. He smiled and waved to Gus. Gus waved back and walked past them.


    Toriel was in the middle of making a pie crust when Gus walked into the kitchen.


    "I take it you''re busy at the moment?"


    "Unfortunately so. Didn''t expect you to show up so soon!" She turned back and smiled at Gus. "I''ll be done in just a few minutes, make yourself at home, please! Watch TV with Kris and Susie!" She went back to furiously rolling out the crust.


    Gus put the roll of paper he had drawn his proposals on in a corner, and walked over to the couch. There was just enough room on the left side of it for him to squeeze in, but he didn''t feel quite comfortable sitting with them, so instead he decided to sit right in front of the couch on the floor. As he went to sit down he noticed that Kris tossed a piece of popcorn at Susie, and she snatched it out of the air with her jaws. It brought a smile to Gus''s face and Kris chuckled.


    Gus lowered his lumbering frame to the floor and he removed his cap, brushing his unruly tuft of hair from his eyes. He looked at the screen and recognized the movie. It was an old western from the early eighties.


    "Oh, I know this one." he said. "My mother took me to the theater to see it with my little brother."


    "Does it have a good ending?" Susie asked.


    "I ain''t spoilin'' nothin''. Just you keep watching if you wanna know."


    The girl grumbled and chomped down on a handful of popcorn.


    Gus felt a nudge on his shoulder and looked behind him to see Kris was offering him the bowl of popcorn. Gus smiled and accepted the gesture, pulling the bowl down and grabbing a handful for himself before sending it back up to the boy.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    On screen, a robber pulled a revolver on an old shopkeep, and after a few tense seconds the shopkeep snatched a hand up as fast as lightning, and he put his thumb in front of the hammer, preventing the gun from firing.


    "I''ve been waitin'' fer a day like this," the shopkeep said. Putting a mare''s leg to the robber''s stomach and blasting him away.


    "Wooooooooahahahahahah holy shit." Susie laughed.


    "LANGUAGE!" Toriel shouted from the kitchen.


    "Sorry Miss Toriel." Susie said sheepishly, retreating into raised shoulders. Kris giggled.


    "Shut up, freak" she said playfully, nudging him.


    This was the most relaxed Gus had felt in years.


    <hr>


    Toriel had chosen the last design Gus had drawn. Something a tad unconventional. Instead of a wide, shallow drawer on top, there would be a single square drawer on the outside corners of the cabinets to contain silverware and utensils. Underneath this would be a still-centered walnut inlay of the insignia she had under her roof.


    Everyone finished watching the movie together before they ate. It was getting dark outside by the time supper was to be had, but Toriel insisted Gus stay at the very least for a slice of pie. He agreed to have supper with them and Susie. There was only one side, and it was some strawberry tarts with whipped cream on top. Everyone had a glass of milk and once Toriel finally sat down, done with her work, they all dug in.


    It was baked perfectly, and held together well, the only crumbly part being the crust itself. Gus had thought the reheated pie was good, but this was absolutely heavenly. It amplified the dish''s quality by tenfold to have it served fresh.


    Toriel and Kris ate delicately, using both a fork and a knife to cut off chunks, which they chewed through thoroughly.


    Gus was a little less reserved in that he did not use a knife to eat his pie, he just scooped chunk after chunk off with the fork and quickly ate it. It was so good the thought of chewing it through was absent.


    Now Susie, god damn there was no stopping Susie. She was like a woodchipper. She used her hands and wolfed down an entire slice in the space of ten seconds. It was ungodly and impressive. Toriel stared warily, but cut her off another slice and Susie dug in again.


    It upset Gus a little, making him wonder if she got enough to eat. But seeing her tear through it also made him happy to see that she was enjoying herself. He almost wanted to stand up and cheer her on like it was some sort of eating contest.


    By the time dinner was over, everyone had had their fill. Gus had eaten a quarter of the pie while Toriel and Kris happily shared another quarter together, but Susie had downed nearly the entirety of the other half, saving a thin slice for later along with the strawberry tart in a plastic baggy.


    "Susie, dear..." Toriel began, wiping her chops with a napkin. "...would you like to stay the night?"


    "Man, I would- I''d love to but I can''t." She slumped in her seat.


    Susie sipped at her fifth glass of milk. "My fuhhhhhh-"


    Toriel''s eyes narrowed and a scowl drew across her lips, reminding Susie that she was not to use foul language in this house. At least, not in her presence.


    "-my mom needs me early tomorrow for something and she''ll kill me if I skimp out of it."


    Gus had the unshakeable feeling that Susie meant that very literally.


    "Well, I guess I can drive you home, would you like that?" Toriel asked.


    "NO!" Susie shouted, shooting up out of her seat and bumping her knees on the table. Silverware and plates shook. The ferocity with which she asserted her refusal caught Kris and Toriel off guard, but Gus merely shut his eyes and breathed deep, finding that he understood something he really, really wished he didn''t.


    As Toriel and Kris were staring at Susie after her outburst, she tried to ease their concerns.


    "I mean, no. No. Sorry... uh... It''s just that it''s late, and you shouldn''t have to drive me somewhere you''ll have trouble getting to in the dark."


    "Sweetie, didn''t you say it''s just outside of town? I''ll be fine driving you there." Toriel offered.


    "No, no. I can walk there." Susie got out of her seat and began walking toward the front door.


    "But it''s so cold!"


    "I''ve done it before I''ll be fine, thanks though." She opened the door a crack.


    "I can drive you." Gus blurted. "I live right across from you, after all."


    Susie closed the door and turned round, looking back at Gus.


    "Oh, I had no idea you two were neighbors!" Toriel beamed. "How lovely!"


    She gulped and stood perfectly erect for a moment, frozen in thought. Her eyes darted left and right while she thought of an answer.


    "Y-yeah, sure."


    "Just uh... gimme a minute. I need to freshen up." Gus said, reaching into his front pocket.


    Gus tossed Susie the keys to his pickup and with some fumbling she managed to catch them. He knew she probably wouldn''t want to stick around to talk after nearly having an episode in front of her friend and his mother.


    "Just wait out in the car, okay? Listen to whatever music you like and uh... turn the temperature up as high as you want. My heater works pretty fast."


    Gus went into the bathroom. After using it, he washed his hands and his face, and found himself breathing fast and heavy again. He dry heaved a few times, until a little bit of spittle came out. He managed to keep the rest down and flush what was left down the sink drain. He heard a knock on the door.


    "Gus! Are you alright in there?" Toriel''s muffled voice came through the door.


    "Yes, Miss Dreemurr, I''m... I''m just fine. I''m just fine..."


    <hr>


    By the time Gus got into the truck, Susie was huddled up, tightly hugging her knees to her chin and still shivering from the cold of the late night as the heater was trying its damnedest to warm up the cabin of his pickup. Grunge was playing on the radio at a low volume.


    "Sorry." Gus sighed, "It''s usually faster than this. Let''s get movin''. You buckled?"


    She unfolded her arms and legs to reach for her seatbelt, and as soon as she buckled it she was back to huddling herself - the sound of guitars barely drowning out her shivering breaths, each one ejecting a misty cloud from her mouth and nostrils.


    "Yeah," She said.


    "Don''t worry, it should warm up soon enough." Gus turned the air vents on his end toward her, and backed out of the driveway.


    It was about a minute down the road that the near silence, save for the radio, was broken. And it was Susie that shattered it.


    "So. What''s your deal?"


    "...What''s that supposed to mean?" he asked.


    "You''ve lived across from me for a year straight."


    "Yes..."


    "You didn''t even talk to me until just a few days ago, and out of the blue you''re being nice. So, what''s your deal?"


    Gus breathed in. He came to a stop sign and deliberated on that. Once he eased to a stop, he had found his answer to this question.


    "Well- I uh... I been distracted... with things. Life has been awful hectic in recent years. Kinda got stuck in a place where it was hard to notice anything but the problems right in front of me. I actually had no idea you were there."


    "...Man. You are... a strange old dude." She shivered out a laugh.


    Gus smiled and chuckled. "I guess I am."


    "You gonna tell me exactly why you''ve been so nice?"


    "Well uh... it''s just in my nature, I guess. I like to be kind. It''s... well it''s good to be kind."


    "Nah, that''s bullshit."


    Gus bubbled his lips. "What makes you say that?"


    "I see the way you look at me, the way you talk about my mom, ask me if I''m alright, tell me to take care."


    Gus''s heart sank.


    "You pity me." Susie said, a kind of judgemental, sarcastic smile on her face, baring her teeth. "I don''t need anyone to pity me."


    Gus thought before he spoke, about whether he should veer away or further prod at the subject. He chose to prod.


    "I''d guess that''s why you stopped Toriel, then?"


    Susie was taken aback.


    "Would explain why you took up my offer instead of her''s. I seen your house, seen your mother. You already think I pity you, what''s the harm in it being me then? But someone else, and a close friend maybe even? Nah. Nah you couldn''t have that."


    Susie remained silent.


    "And I do. A little bit Susie, I do pity you. But I promise you there''s more to how I act toward you than pity. I would... I wanna see you get away from that, you know. What you¡¯re dealing with right now¡­ it ain¡¯t no good for you."


    She seemed to tense up a little.


    "I know you know it''s more than pity, too. You wouldn''t''ve let me know you were on the way to school this morning if you didn''t."


    Susie turned to face out the passenger window, her arms folded.


    "I just told you so you wouldn''t come out to bother me yourself, old man."


    ''Oh is that so?'' he thought to himself, coyly.


    "Besides, you don''t know what I deal with."


    Gus eased to a stop outside his house.


    "I might." he said.


    Susie turned back to face him. Gus lifted the sleeve of the right arm of his flannel shirt and exposed a nasty scar. A long line of pink, exposed skin instead of fur. The look on Susie¡¯s face said more than words ever could. Her eyes wide, seeing how long the scar was. She was probably wondering what could have possibly made that, imagining how agonizingly deep the wound itself actually was when it was made.


    Gus pulled his sleeve back down.


    She was speechless as she exited the passenger side of the truck, never taking her eyes off of Gus. Gus on the other hand didn¡¯t face her at all. He just kept looking straight forward.


    "I''m sorry..." she said softly.


    "It''s okay." Gus said. "I know how it is."


    Susie reached for the door.


    Gus gave her his parting words. "Take care of yourself, Susie. Goodnight."


    "Y-yeah. Goodnight." Susie shut the door.

 Augers and Skeletons

    Gus woke up around seven this time, right at first light.


    By the time he had mustered up the energy to get into his kitchen, half an hour had passed and the sun was beginning to rise. He wasn''t in the mood for something he''d have to actually make, so he settled for a bowl of cereal.


    The morning was cold. Not freezing this time, but still cold. Maybe upper 30s. Trees hadn''t changed any.


    It was when he was washing the bowl he had eaten from that he thought he caught something in the corner of his eye. It prompted him to look up out the window and he saw Susie out in his front yard, looking back in. She made a stilted wave once she saw him looking back at her and she gestured down the road and smiled. He waved back at her with a smile, and she went on her way.


    That was a better interaction than he was expecting given his... confrontational approach on the ride home last night. It made him feel lighter to see that she was in good spirits.


    After an hour of wandering around his house and watching the modern nightmare of daytime television, Gus pulled up his boots, put on his flannel, and slung on his suspenders, and headed to his workshop, where he finally began making the cabinets.


    It was about an hour into the process when he was cutting out the individual pieces, penciling what the parts would be on the corners of both sides of each piece to keep track of them in case he got confused, when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket, the ring inaudible for the sound of the bandsaw. He cut the bandsaw off and answered the call. A frail and shaky voice answered, asking him if he could fix a ''horrendous'' leak in the boys'' bathroom at the school.


    "Alright then, what time miss-"


    "-Alphys."


    "Miss Alphys, what time?"


    "Sir, I assure you, I''m not being dramatic when I say that your help is needed now."


    "Well, it''s just that I''m currently in the middle of another project and-"


    "-p-please. I''m begging you, this needs fixing right this minute, it''s... indescribable."


    Gus looked down at the block of walnut, the first triangle of one of the insignias almost cut out, and he sighed.


    "I''m on my way."


    "Oh! Thank you so mu-"


    Gus hung up before she could even finish. He reluctantly loaded up in his truck, and drove farther yet farther away from his beloved workshop.


    <hr>


    When he arrived at the school the first thing that hit him was the smell. The godawful smell.


    "Dear god." Gus muttered to himself, before almost slamming his hand into his face and pinching his nose shut, struggling to control himself before he could retch.


    Students were heading to lunch at the time, each one covering their noses and mouths. One armless girl, yellow with spikes protruding from her head, was unable to cover her mouth.


    She screamed "Yo! Wh-what is that?" Before she uncontrollably dry heaved and vomited on the floor.


    This made other students feel sick as well, save for Susie and Kris, who happened to be in this class and instead seemed completely unphased.


    Kris noticed him and waved with one arm free at Gus, and Gus waved back with his free hand.


    The armless girl looked like she had thrown up half her weight, she was struggling to keep steady on her feet and her eyes looked bleary. A considerate classmate, a blue bird with a magenta bow tie, pulled a colorful handkerchief from his pocket and wiped spittle off of her lips and red dress as he held her steady. He covered her nose with one wing and kept her steady with the other, holding his breath and braving the wretched stench as he walked her down the hall.


    "Oh come on, it isn''t THAT foul." Another blue bird squawked, a pair of thick wireframe glasses resting on his beak.


    "Shut up, Berdly." Susie said. "I bet it was you who dropped that bomb in the bathroom."


    "N-no it was not!" The bluebird retorted.


    "Oh yeah, I''m sure of it now." Susie snorted. Kris snickered into his sweater sleeve.


    "A-alright everyone, move along to the cafeteria!" Shouted a short, stout yellow lizard, half-heartedly shooing them like a tired farmer would his chickens.


    She turned to face Gus and excitedly walked up to him with her nose clamped shut. She was positively miniscule. Half as tall as he was, and she seemed to recognize this herself as she stood within his shadow. She began sweating nervously.


    "Y-you m-must be..."


    Gus realized this must have been the person who called him, given how nervous she was. It probably wasn''t too easy on her anxious nature that he absolutely eclipsed her in every way. His shoulders were wider than she was tall.


    "Gus." He answered as gently as he could and smiled softly with a nod. The teacher''s fear evaporated.


    "Y-yes! Gus! I''m Miss Alphys."


    A lanky janitor with gloves on walked up to the pile of vomit the armless girl had left on the floor and put on a surgical mask to better deal with the smell that filled the hallways.


    "Can we get two of those here?" Gus asked.


    The janitor looked in his direction before walking up and handing a mask to Gus and another to Alphys.


    "You''ll fuckin'' need it," he said, his vile tongue cutting through the already tainted atmosphere of this place of learning. "Sorry we had to call you, but it''s bad, very bad. And if I knew how to deal with it myself, I would have."


    "It''s alright. I could use the money."


    The two of them put on their masks.


    "Alright. Take me to it, Miss Alphys."


    "Uh, it''s right this way, third stall in the b-boy''s restroom..."


    "OH!" The janitor shouted, tossing a pair of black rubber gloves at Gus before he could move. "I hope these fit you."


    <hr>


    The less said about what Gus saw, the better. Describing it as a "leak" was not only inaccurate but a disservice to the sheer scale of this disaster. The... obscene amount of feces on the floor, the stagnant pool of water in the toilet of the third stall, and the smell - the godawful smell penetrating his mask.


    It took him an ungodly amount of time with a plunger and an auger to pull the source out. A few pages of a porn mag. A fucking porn mag. Specifically one that was themed around dragon women. Didn''t these kids use their phones these days? Good god...


    He called the janitor in over the intercom, using the name he had seen on the monster''s name tag, Charlie.


    Charlie held open a plastic bag while Gus lowered the filthy contraband (literally and metaphorically) into it.


    "You wanna tell the truth about this?" Gus asked.


    "Nah." Charlie said. "No need to stir shit up because some dumb kid was horny. The staff will just try and find him out - humiliate him. Ruin the poor kid''s life for a few months. Nobody wants to be known as the kid who tried to shove a damn porn mag down the toilet to keep from getting caught. If kids can¡¯t be cruel enough, you give them that kind of information and someone to point the finger at? HA!" The janitor put one hand on his hips as he laughed, the other clasped around a mop. ¡°Brother, you¡¯re talkin¡¯ bout fuuuuuun shit!¡±


    Gus chuckled. "You''d think these kids would use their phones, though."


    "Yeah..."


    "Just say it was a toilet paper blockage when you get asked. That''s what I''ll tell em''." Charlie said.


    "God. I hope this smell doesn''t stick to me." Gus said.


    "Did you get any on your shoes?" Charlie piped up.


    Gus checked. "Nah. Nah, they''re clean."


    "Should be fine, then. Well, I uh- gotta get back. Some kindergartener spilled a bowl of tomato soup in the cafeteria. Stuff got everywhere. Take care, big guy."


    "You too. Thanks Charlie."


    They exited the bathroom, Charlie throwing the contraband in the trash can on his cart, and Gus pausing when he saw Toriel waiting with a check ready.


    "Hey Gus" she said, handing him the check.


    "It''s already written out?" he asked.


    "I already wrote you one, remember? For fixing my sink. The one you refused." The goat woman crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "I remembered your name and the principal went ahead and wrote this out with my help."


    Gus looked at the amount written out to him. A hundred and fifty dollars.


    "We didn''t even get to negotiate." He said. "This is a... bit high."


    "Oh." Toriel playfully scoffed. "Consider part of it as thanks for fixing my sink."


    "With the school''s money?"


    "No, I threw a bit in there myself."


    Gus smiled, opening his billfold and slipping the check in. "Hah... alright. I know better than to turn you down. ¡®Specially for a second time. Thank you for this, Miss Dreemurr."


    "Oh please, you can call me Toriel."


    "Alright, then. Thank you, Toriel."


    He stood there silently. He could tell by the look on her face that she wanted more out of this interaction. He just wasn''t quite sure what it was. His uncomfortable wondering was put to rest when Toriel broke the silence with a concerned huff. She tightly hugged one arm to her bosom with the other, and bit at her nails.


    "I uh..." she sounded almost choked up. "...I want to talk to you about Susie."


    Oh god.


    Gus inhaled sharply and shuffled uncomfortably. Toriel immediately noticed.


    "I don''t know if she''d be too happy about that."


    "I''m not going to ask you every detail of her life. I just- I''m worried about her."


    There was a tense silence. A fire alarm blipped down the hall, asking for a change of its batteries.


    <hr>


    It was during recess that Gus went into the teacher''s lounge with Toriel, nervously sitting with a small cup of water gently held in his enormous hands. The cup was comically small, and would barely quench a monster of typical size, let alone someone of Gus''s gargantuan eight foot frame. But it calmed his nerves to have something to sip at if he needed it.


    Toriel sat across from him, a cup of water in her hand as well.


    "I''ve had suspicions for a while." Toriel asked, starting off this already uncomfortable sit-down with a question Gus felt was already veering into territory he really didn''t want to step into. "She talks about her mother scarcely, she sometimes curses under her breath about the woman when she thinks I can''t hear."


    Gus fidgeted his cup around.


    "Have you seen the woman?"


    "Yeah." Gus answered, quietly.


    "So... what¡¯s she like?" Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Gus sipped at his cup and swallowed far harder than he needed to for such a small amount of water. He tugged at the collar of his flannel shirt.


    "...not all that good."


    Toriel was bothered by Gus''s indirectness.


    "Please, Gus. You''ve got to give me more than that."


    "Toriel, I barely know anything." He said, deciding to try and end this conversation as fast as possible and do away with the discomfort of the entire situation. "All I can tell you is it''s not good, and I want to help her out of it. But I... we... have to try to respect her situation."


    "Respect her situation..." Toriel seemed to understand. She stood up and leaned her back against the wall. "It''s that bad, is it?"


    "Yeah. Her mom seems like a... pretty tough piece of work. This is one of those things to play smart, you know?"


    Toriel sipped at her water. "You haven''t stopped shaking since I brought you in here. Are you okay?"


    Gus dropped his cup, a small puddle of water spilling out onto the floor. He nervously sat erect and took a breath in fast, forcing it out even harder.


    "Hey, hey." Toriel walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe."


    "No." Gus answered honestly, his head in his hands. "I''m not okay. I... I''ve been where she is now. A-and it makes me sick. It makes me so SICK, Tori." Gus tried to fight back tears.


    Toriel silently wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. It felt very strange to receive a gesture so tender from a woman he had met only two days prior, but at the same time it felt so right.


    ¡°It¡¯ll all be okay, Gus. I don¡¯t know you all that much, and I¡¯ve only known you for three days, but if what you did last night is any indication, there is a lot of good in you. I trust you. I trust you to be her ally. Just stay strong, okay?¡± He nodded and leaned into her embrace. Looking out the window, he saw the young children in her class playing outside, and he felt his nerves begin to calm.


    <hr>


    Gus stopped by Grillby''s on the way back home and ordered his typical two shots, but the discussion with Toriel had left him shaky, even if it wasn''t a very soul-bearing experience. This situation with Susie, it brought him so much closer to the worst of all his memories, far closer than he ever wanted to be. So he sat, taking in not alcohol but the calm ambience of the bar.


    Arnie wasn''t here today. It was just a few other people. The graffiti across the street was completely gone by this point, only a few traces of paint left to be taken away. Behind him he heard two patrons talking, and he tuned in as usual.


    "Well, it looks like they ain''t no closer to figurin'' out who sprayed that damn thing."


    "I''m not surprised. The security camera footage was pure garbage, at least that''s what Buford told me. Just two vague, grainy shapes dressed in all black."


    "They didn''t leave anythin'' behind?"


    "Not a footprint."


    Gus heard the bar door open, and a car on the road whizz past.


    "Typical..."


    Someone jumped into the barstool next to Gus and rapped their knuckles on the bar. The sound was sharper and clearer than a pair of knuckles typically was, and Gus glanced to the right to see a bony hand retreating from the bar.


    "Hey Grillby. Just get me a hot dog eh? And leave the ketchup bottle." The voice was a steady baritone with little texture to it, a smooth, calm confidence exuded from the person who had sat themselves down next to Gus.


    "You got it." Grillby said.


    "I don''t think we''ve met, big man." The voice directed itself to Gus''s right ear.


    He turned to face this new patron. He was a short skeleton with a round skull and a permanent smile drawn across his face. Two white pinpricks stuck out from the black void of his eyes. He wore a blue hooded jacket and a pair of black track shorts that reached just above his ankles. On his feet were two fuzzy, pink slippers. This guy couldn''t give less of a damn how he looked, but Gus liked something about that.


    "No, I don''t think we have." Gus outstretched a hand for a shake, and the skeleton returned the gesture, taking Gus''s enormous hand into a shake by clasping around his massive index finger, his bones clacking.


    "The name''s Sans. Sans the Skeleton."


    "Angus. Angus Birchbiter. But folk call me Gus."


    "Birchbiter, eh? I guess you must like the taste of hardwood." Sans winked and shrugged.


    One minute with this guy and out of nowhere he''d dropped a gay joke on Gus. But he found it amusing. He admired the little skeleton''s bold way of making friends.


    "I like you already, Sans. No bones about it" he quipped back.


    "I''m glad you don''t wanna pick a bone with me, I already got too many."


    Gus chuckled.


    Grillby brought Sans his hot dog and bottle of ketchup, and Sans began to squirt an absolutely merciless amount on the sausage.


    "So, Birchbiter... that a woodworking name?" Sans inquired.


    "Certainly is. Way back my uhh... great great grandfather- he was beaverfolk if you can believe it with these sharp teeth I got. That''s where the ''biter'' comes from." Gus answered.


    Sans finished putting his mountain of ketchup on his hot dog.


    "You keep up the family tradition?" He took a bite of his absolutely smothered food, sauce spilling over his bony cheeks.


    "I do, actually. I''m in the middle of making some cabinets for this lady in town."


    "That''s nice." Sans said, muffled as he chowed down on his hot dog. "What''s her name?"


    "Toriel Dreemurr. You know her?"


    Sans swallowed. "Oh yeah. I know her. She shops at my store."


    "You own that place right on Main Street?"


    "Yeah, that''s the one. You should come by some time."


    "You must''ve just opened. I had to head down to Ebottfield to get my last grocery run."


    "Just last week." Sans took another bite. "With my little bro, Papyrus."


    "Well, it''s nice to see you settling in well."


    "The food being nice does help a lot." Sans said through bites of his hot dog.


    "Yeah, that''ll do it."


    <hr>


    Gus spent the next hour talking with Sans about things happening here and there around time, nothing too big. Sans ordered him a burger, which Gus tried to refuse, but Sans wouldn¡¯t hear it, and Gus got a nicer supper than he usually did.


    Right as Gus told the skeleton it was probably best that he get back home so that he could continue working on the cabinets before it got too dark, Sans stopped him on his way toward the door.


    "I wanna say something to you, Gus." His voice was soft, with a reassuring tone to it. "I could tell by the way you were sitting when I came in here. You got a lot on your plate, eh?"


    It was like the entire bar went silent. Gus opened his mouth to speak, wondering if he''d have to steer Sans away from a topic he was uncomfortable discussing with a man he''d just met, but Sans cut him off.


    "Don''t worry. I''m not gonna ask for details or make you tell me your life story. You don''t have to say anything."


    Gus relaxed.


    "I just wanted to say that I can tell you''re rackin'' that brain of yours over what you should do about it. And I don''t want you to worry. I''ve been there before. You''re a smart guy, I can see it. When the time comes, I''m sure you''ll see something that will finally make you understand. And in that moment..."


    Sans slowly turned around in his barstool to face Gus.


    "...you''ll know what it is you have to do. Just keep breathing."


    The sounds of the bar faded back in.


    "Thank you." Gus said.


    <hr>


    It was sunset by the time Gus pulled into his driveway. Gus''s day was longer than he thought it would be, a lot more happened than he expected, that was for sure. He went straight to the workshop, intending to cut out the insignia and retire for the day, but when he looked into the open garage door to his workshop he was surprised to see Susie looking at the pieces of the cabinet.


    She seemed to be intrigued by it, though there was barely anything to it yet. Just a few odd shapes here and there that he had cut out from mostly plywood. But she took it all in and really, really seemed to appreciate it.


    Gus broke the silence by tapping his boot on the concrete floor. Susie raised her shoulders, taking her hands out of her pockets and raising them impulsively. She relaxed when she looked in the direction of the noise and noticed it was just Gus.


    "Oh. Uh- hey, Gus."


    "Hey." He walked further in.


    "So, this is the cabinet you''re making for Miss Toriel?" She looked back at the pieces.


    "Sure is."


    Susie sniffed the air deeply. "This place smells nice."


    Gus chuckled. "Like the smell of lumber, eh? Most of this stuff''s dry. You ever smelled it cut fresh?"


    "No." She shook her head and turned away from the cabinet pieces to face Gus. "Is it a good smell?"


    "Very." He nodded and smiled.


    He let her look at the pieces for a few more seconds.


    "What''s got you over here, Susie?" he asked.


    She scoffed. "Mom''s bein'' a bitch again."


    "What''s her problem?" Gus took a hand out of his pocket to wipe away the wetness from his black nose. He sniffed and scrunched his face.


    "I didn''t get to eat any lunch today." Susie started. "I packed the pie and the uhh strawberry thing from Miss Toriel''s place, but when I opened my bag it was empty. Didn''t have any money to buy either."


    "When did lunches stop being free?" Gus asked, intrigued.


    "Bout a year ago."


    "Guess the county''s rakin'' in too much money for government support..." Gus grumbled. "You said your lunch was empty?"


    "Yeah." Susie nodded.


    "Why?".


    "Mom ate it."


    Gus''s brow furrowed. "Did you talk to her about it?"


    "Yeah. She got mad at me. Told me it was her house, her food, said she could eat whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. Then she kicked me out for the night because I got mad at her. Figured I''d check your place out before I camped out tonight."


    Gus could swear he felt blood vessels in his eyes bursting. Susie looked at him and she seemed to shrink away in fear, his breaths heavy through flared nostrils like an enraged bull.


    "Wait here" he said.


    Gus marched out of the workshop and began charging down the hill, long strides with every heavy step as he cast his hate-filled gaze at the house on the other side of the road. He heard fast footfalls behind him.


    "Gus, wait! Wait wait wait wait!"


    He felt Susie grab at his left arm. "Come on, man! Don''t, please, please don''t. Come on!"


    But Gus was deaf to her pleas. He shrugged her grip off and he felt his heart pound harder and harder, his vision went red. His head was throbbing, drenched with sweat. It had been so long since he was worked up enough to sweat from anywhere other than his paws. In this moment he was little more than a twisted manifestation of his own rage.


    "GUS! THERE''S A TRUCK!"


    A horn blared, and a semi truck zoomed past him at the speed of light. His heart nearly came to a standstill. The wind from the near-miss almost seemed to slap him, and he snapped out of his trance. He caught himself from falling face-first in the asphalt, hands on his knees, his back hunched. He could not remember when he had reached the road. He started hyperventilating, each heaving breath burning his throat and lungs.


    "Woah." Susie came up behind him, standing at the distance of a few paces. "You alright?"


    Gus responded to her question by turning around and promptly vomiting into the ditch by the side of the road, spilling out the small supper he had ordered for himself at Grillby''s.


    "Yeah." His voice was hoarse and exhausted. "I''m... sorry."


    Susie had never looked as sheepish and outwardly vulnerable as she did in this moment. Her hands were close to her chest and she bent at the knees, her back hunched forward slightly as she looked on at Gus with concern.


    "I''m not- I''m not gonna let you sleep in the cold tonight." Gus tried to steady himself as he stood up straight. "You... you can sleep on my couch."


    "Oh, man, I... man... I don''t... are you sure?"


    Gus shot her a solemn look, the brown furs on his face highlighted by the redness of the setting sun.


    "Please..." he begged.


    <hr>


    Susie looked around at Gus''s house as though she had walked into a different world. It was old, very old. Paint chipped at the corners of the walls, the floorboards creaked, but it was quaint, and clean.


    Gus went to the fridge. "You uh, okay with cereal?" He pulled out a gallon jug of milk. "I promise I''ll cook you something in the morning I just... I had a moment back there."


    "Sure." Susie pulled herself away from scraping at paint chips and sat at the table.


    Gus brought out a box of chocolate-flavored cereal and handed the box over to Susie. He gave her the largest bowl he could.


    "Eat as much as you like."


    Susie cautiously reached for the box, but Gus gestured to her as if to say ''please, help yourself'' and within seconds she poured the entire bowl full of spherical puffs of chocolate and milk, and greedily began wolfing them down by the spoonful as if she hadn''t eaten in a day. That thought crossed his mind when Gus realized she almost certainly hadn''t.


    "You get to eat anything today at all?" he asked.


    "Kris shared me half of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I didn''t tell him I had nothing to eat by the time he had finished a pack of crackers and a bag of chips, so that was all I got."


    "Hm. Such a nice boy."


    "Susie stopped chewing for a moment and smiled softly. "Yeah." she said, "Yeah, he is."


    Gus was happy to see she had made a genuine friend in the boy. But there was something he needed to talk about.


    "About what happened out there..." Gus began. "I uh... I''m sorry."


    "Ish okay" she said, through a bite of cereal.


    "It ain''t." Gus leaned back and breathed deep, cupping his mouth with his hand. "Just earlier I was... I was thinking about how your situation is, how I need to not give in to my emotions here. And what I just did- if it weren''t for that truck I could have made it a thousand times worse."


    Susie lowered a spoonful of cereal and stopped eating, her full attention on him.


    "What I was about to do wasn''t for you. It wasn''t about you." He made eye contact. "It was for me. It was because it made me angry."


    The ticking of a wall clock and the humming of a refrigerator were the only things that kept the room from diving into an eerie silence. "I just... I been there before, Susie. I been there. I know how bad it can get and in that moment it took over me. I was about to take out my frustration toward my pa out on your mother. I made it about me."


    Susie''s attention was now completely on Gus. He realized he was crying, and wiped away his tears.


    "I don''t wanna do that. Maybe I think you need my help in your situation, but you need someone who isn''t just some... hopelessly angry halfwit."


    Susie didn''t seem to know what to say.


    "Please." Gus gestured toward the bowl. "Eat."


    And eat she did. Without scarfing down every bite this time. As though it wasn''t going to disappear right before her eyes, and she could take her time.

 Chisel

    The room was cold. Dimly lit by early morning light and a tired fluorescent bulb that buzzed above him. Out the window it was beginning to snow on naked branches. Gus looked down at his handcuffs, feeling the chain links shift and clink together as he lifted his hands to cover his eyes and hide away in his shame, though nobody was in the room but him.


    That was when the door opened. He heard the sound of wingtip shoes tapping on the tile floor. When he took his head out of his hands and looked up, it was Caden. He looked good in his three-piece suit. There was a long and uncomfortable silence that they shared between one another, neither seemed willing to say anything, but both knew this had to be done. Caden, bold as he was, decided to take that leap.


    "Hey, Gus."


    "Hi, Caden."


    Gus looked up as his brother placed his briefcase on the floor and stood next to the chair across the table from him.


    Caden looked almost nothing like Gus, save for in the face. He was shorter, skinnier, his fur was a tone of charcoal instead of brown, and his eyes had a characteristic steely blue, opposed to the bright amber that belonged to Gus.


    Caden sat down and couldn''t find the strength within him to meet his brother''s gaze. Instead he stared at his own hands in frustration, took a deep breath, and quietly asked a question which had been on his mind for years.


    "What are you doing, Gus?"


    "I don''t know."


    They sat in silence.


    <hr>


    What an awful, awful moment to have dreamt about. He wasn''t sweating this time. He just felt hollow. He sat up and looked out the window as silver clouds made the sky overcast, billowing and bulging as they rolled in the wind.


    Downstairs from the living room he heard TV speakers blaring. Susie was watching some crude cartoons while the adult block was still on. Gus sat down in the chair next to the couch to watch a bit with her before getting ready to take her to school. They didn¡¯t say much to each other, both groggy and grumpy.


    <hr>


    The truck¡¯s old door creaked shut. "You got your lunch?" Gus adjusted the mirror on his side.


    Susie pulled up a brown paper bag from the backpack Gus had given her. "Yep."


    "Good, good. Let''s get about it, then."


    The leaves had fallen even further since last night, a cold frost had gripped yet again, stripping the branches down even more than they had been. Desperately a few leaves clung to their home, fighting fruitlessly against the November chill. The first snow was bound to fall any day now.


    "Your mom ever done this for you?" Gus asked.


    "No. She never drove me. She always wanted me to walk. Figured it''d teach me... something."


    "Mmm..."


    "Of course she''s bullshitting. She just doesn''t wanna get up to take me there, and I know better than to argue, so-, ya know."


    "Yeah... yeah, I do."


    Gus eased on the brakes as he approached the caution lights entering Hometown.


    "You''d think that the bus route would come out down here, but no. They never have, don''t know why."


    "I''m kinda glad it doesn''t. I''ve never liked being on a bus." Susie said.


    "Heh... me neither."


    Gus rubbed his hands, and cupped them to breathe warmth into them, so that his pawpads didn''t freeze


    "You uh... got any plans today, Susie?"


    "I uh.. I''m gonna ask Kris if I can come over to his place today. Get out of your hair."


    "Awww... don''t speak so foolish. I don''t mind havin'' you around one bit. If you can''t stay there tonight just ask Toriel to give me a call. She''s got my number. I''ll drive you back."


    Susie smiled and nodded.


    The road was clear, and Gus kept driving.


    "What are you gonna do today, dude?" Susie asked Gus.


    "Well, I... suppose after I drop you off I''ll go to Grillby''s for a drink."


    "I didn''t know you drank. Don''t most people drink at night though?" She asked, seeming surprised.


    "Well, I just don''t drink too much. I just go whenever I can manage to swing by. Every day if I can help it. Two shots of whiskey."


    "Just two? How come?"


    "Well... my uh- my little brother, Caden. At some point he read something on the internet about how a little bit of alcohol can be a health benefit and he just- started doing it every day. I personally don''t know if I believe the shit myself. ''Cept... man, Caden, he fuckin'' hated alcohol. Beer, whiskey, wine- nothing would please the guy, the taste was just too terrible to him. So instead he started making this homemade stuff that he''d heard was really good. Butterscotch moonshine. Mind you he didn''t have a distillery or nothin¡¯, he weren¡¯t no lawbreaker, and it wasn''t real corn liquor, it was sugar based. Anyway, he''d make that stuff, and he would drink two shots of that a day. It was good, too. I had some of it but I never learned how to make it, so instead I drink whiskey."


    "Well, maybe you could ask him to make you more." Susie suggested.


    Gus felt like he was choking on his tongue.


    "I uh... I can''t."


    Susie read the grave expression on his face and it didn''t take her long to put two and two together.


    "Oh." She said. "I''m sorry."


    "It''s okay. You didn''t know. I don''t drink more than that nowadays. Just- to remember him by."


    <hr>


    Gus shuffled off his jacket and hung it on the rack when he got to Grillby''s. Arnie almost instantly stood up from his seat and sauntered over but Gus didn''t even give him the time of day. He simply stuck a hand out and gestured that Arnie should sit back down, and Arnie did just that with a look of defeat that alone could crush the spirit of a lesser man.


    Sans was sitting at the bar. Gus took a seat next to him.


    "Morning, bonehead." He patted Sans on the back.


    "Right back atcha, furball." Sans was chowing down on scrambled eggs which were... covered... in ketchup.


    "I see you''re enjoying your break." Gus smirked.


    "I ain''t even opened yet." Sans swallowed a forkful of his eggs. "It''s great to own your own business, isn''t it? Make the hours whenever you please."


    "That''s a benefit, for sure."


    Gus didn''t even have to ask this time, Grillby had two shots of whiskey ready and put them right in front of him and Gus slapped down a five.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Both went down well. Gus sat for a minute and watched the news before he went about his day.


    Something about small tremors down the road near Ebottfield. They weren''t too uncommon. The mountains were fairly geologically active, even if they were heavily eroded and impossibly old. Gus realized he had nothing to really gain from taking in the atmosphere of the bar today, and he wanted to get back to work on the cabinet instead.


    ¡°Hate to cut it like this, Sans. But I¡¯ll be damned, I got nothin¡¯ to talk about today. I¡¯ll have to see you around.¡± He stood up and patted Sans on the back again.


    "Hey, Gus."


    "Yeah?"


    Sans''s white pinprick eyes darted around his sockets, as though he was considering what he was about to say before bony lids closed over them and an expression of calm defied the permanent grin on his face. "Just know that I think I''d like your help with something sometime soon, when the night grows long. And have a great weekend."


    "I look forward to working with you." Gus smiled. "And thank you, I will."


    <hr>


    Gus had finished cutting out every single piece of the cabinet and drilled holes for pocket screws. He was about to make the inlays, but he changed his mind. Instead, he sat down and watched TV and checked to see if anyone had an interest in purchasing the ranch on the page he had set up months ago on a realtor website. He didn¡¯t usually choose to laze about, but he just wasn¡¯t quite feeling it at the moment.


    He was on his front porch when he looked out into the distance to see that snow had finally arrived to the higher peaks of the mountains, painting the countless thousands of leafless trees near the peaks white. Winter is near. At long last.


    His phone rang. He pulled his gaze away from the mountains and pulled out his phone. It was Toriel.


    "Hello?"


    Susie answered. "Hey. Uh, they can''t have me over tonight. Apparently Kris''s big brother is coming over tonight and they have no idea exactly what he''ll be bringing over with him. Can you come get me?"


    "What kind of a question is that?" Gus laughed. "Of course I can."


    <hr>


    The drive back with Susie was a nice one. She seemed to be happy, genuinely happy. She was talking about how much fun she had with Kris that day, and how great tomorrow would be, because he¡¯d told her that he wanted her to come over by his dad''s flower shop and hang out with him, his brother, and his dad. Kris even said he wanted Gus to be there, of all people.


    "Wow." Gus said. "Ain''t that somethin''. I uh... well I guess I''ll be there."


    "You better, old man." Susie playfully socked Gus''s shoulder and chuckled. ¡°You have to take me there, after all!¡±


    "Heh... You know, I got a surprise for you when we get back."


    "What is it?"


    "Wouldn''t be a surprise if I told you."


    "Ha! Screw you old man, fine. I''ll wait."


    <hr>


    Susie stared at the strange tool that Gus had pulled out from under the work table.


    "What the hell is that?"


    "This..." Gus plugged it up. "...is a plunge router."


    "What''s it for?" She tilted her head.


    "I saw you lookin'' over the pieces yesterday, I figured you''d like to try something out for yourself. So I figured I''d let you try out something with the plunge router and a chisel for these inlays."


    "Oh."


    Susie caught her tongue in her throat for a moment.


    "You sure about that dude? What if I screw something up?"


    "Well- depending on how bad you screw it up, we''ll either fill it in with a little glue and sawdust, or scrap this piece and recut it."


    Susie paused.


    "Come on. I know you want to give this a shot" Gus teased. "You''d have told me no otherwise."


    Susie bubbled her lips. "Screw it. Let''s fuck some shit up."


    Gus cackled. "ATTAGIRL!"


    Susie carefully held the handles of the router as Gus set the shallow depth and fixed the bit on. He flipped it bit-side down and slid on a pair of goggles before resting another pair on the bridge of Susie''s snout and muttering something about eye protection. She straightened the goggles so they covered her eyes.


    "Hold tight alright?"


    "Got it."


    "You ready?"


    Susie sighed nervously. "As ready as I can be."


    Gus flipped the switch and Susie immediately became nervous as the bit began to spin, but she was reassured when she saw that Gus was holding the sides of the router, careful to avoid brushing her hands with his, so as not to make her uncomfortable.


    "Just push down, and follow the marks, okay? Don''t get too close to them, though. We won''t get those clean chisel marks if you do."


    "O-okay."


    "I''ll guide you if you need me, just shout my name."


    "Okay!"


    It took her nearly three times as long as it would have taken Gus, and a thousand frantic screams of his name, but with time and patience she successfully cut out the rough shapes of the Dreemurr insignia. When all was said and done, she looked down on the work she had done and Gus saw pride shine across her face.


    "Good job."


    "Oh holy... I just- I just made that. I made those cuts. And I did it right. Holy shit..."


    "Damn right you did."


    She laughed softly and joyfully. "Wow... Oh my god..."


    "...what''s next?"


    Gus picked up a small chisel and handed Susie a larger one.


    "I''ll get the circles, and you get the triangles. I''m not gonna make you try your hand at round shapes just yet. Put the edge of the blade on the groove and push. If it won''t budge, hold the chisel steady and tap the other end of it with this." Gus handed Susie a small mallet.


    "The goal is to get a shape as perfectly straight as the outline itself. A few scuffs and missed marks are excusable and patchable, though. So don''t fret too much."


    "Okay..."


    Susie fidgeted with the chisel and laid it on the line that Gus had marked out.


    "Breathe, Susie."


    Susie followed Gus''s advice, taking one deep breath in and pushing it out slowly as she bore down on the chisel, a peel of white oak falling into the hole she had just made with the router, a perfectly straight line remained where she had carved, and she smiled. She looked up at Gus, and he gave her a thumbs up before he started working away at the circle. Susie was amazed at just how fast he was at his craft, pushing chip after chip out of the way of a perfect circular outline.


    By the end of it Gus had done both circles and three triangles, leaving Susie to carefully finish up three of her own. After vacuuming out the chips of wood that had fallen into the holes, Gus went about gluing in the inlays and he grabbed a belt sander, asking Susie if she wanted to level out the walnut inlays with the oaken base.


    Gus did one first, and she did the other, all on her own, perfectly.


    "You got a real knack for this."


    "You think?" She asked.


    "I know. You''re great at this."


    "Seriously? Oh, man. Thanks."


    "One more thing, eh?" Gus turned the cabinet doors over and pulled out a small paintbrush with a little plastic cup, a paper cover rubber banded around it, keeping something black inside from spilling out. He removed the cover and dipped the brush in gently. On the high inside corner of the back of each door, he carefully signed "Gus Birchbiter" in beautiful cursive, beneath each one, he painted a delicate ampersand. He handed the brush over to Susie with a smile.


    "Your turn."


    Susie gingerly and hesitantly picked up the brush from Gus''s hand. She didn''t quite know how to hold it.


    "Like a pencil," he said. "Just a little higher up."


    Susie shifted her grip and dipped the tip of the brush into the black paint. She slowly but surely wrote "Susie" under both of Gus''s signatures. It was rough and not quite as refined as Gus''s own signature, but Gus''s beaming smile at the sight of it melted away at Susie''s own self doubt, and she found that in no time she was smiling too.


    "Ain''t that just as pretty as a picture?"


    "Yeah" Susie said. "It is."


    Gus stood there proudly as Susie marveled at her handywork.


    "Well, I think it''s time to call it a night. How about you?" Gus asked.


    Susie looked out into the twilight, outside the workshop, in the direction of her house.


    "Can I uh... stay over on your couch again tonight?" She didn''t make eye contact with Gus, instead opting to stare at her feet.


    Gus looked out where she had. In the front yard across the street a lone figure sat in a folding chair next to a raging firepit, sipping from a bottle tucked into a brown paper bag, watching.


    Gus turned back to Susie. "Yes. Yes you can."


    "I don''t wanna go back, I really fuckin'' don''t, dude." She gripped at her arm and gus noticed as she tugged at the sleeve of her jacket that she had a bruise just above her wrist in the shape of a hand.


    He looked back out at the figure by the fire and he felt his anger, his hate, his pain- it burned. Burned brighter and hotter than that fire ever could or would.


    "I don''t wanna talk to her."


    "You don''t have to. Let''s just get in for supper, hm?"

 Six Thousand Feet

    Caden shuffled uncomfortably in his chair.


    "Do you remember what you did?" The younger brother rested his head on the heel of his palm, his elbow on the table.


    Gus answered hesitantly. "I... got a little drunk. Some guy did something and I... clocked him so hard I knocked him out."


    "He spilled a soda on you. You gave him a concussion." Caden corrected Gus''s poor attempt at fabricating a fuzzy memory. "He spilled a fucking Dr. Pepper on you and you gave him a god damn concussion. In front of an entire restaurant filled to the brim with witnesses."


    Gus covered his eyes again, trying to hide away from the shame, but now someone else was in the room and it was Caden. The one person he knew for sure that wouldn¡¯t let him run away from it.


    "You could have KILLED him, Gus."


    "I was drunk." Gus voiced, in quiet defiance.


    "Yeah. So was Pa."


    Gus began shaking his head.


    "Every time he would come home and throw Ma around, whip you, slap me, he was drunk too. Didn''t stop the police from asking Ma every time she did call them whether or not she wanted to press charges. And her saying no didn''t stop them from throwing him in a drunk tank."


    "Yeah... yeah I know."


    "Do you?" His brother laughed, but it wasn''t amusement. There was anger behind that laugh. Frustration. Disappointment.


    "I don''t know if you do, Gus. I just... I wish..."


    Gus uncovered his eyes and looked at Caden. Those vibrant blue pools pierced right through him.


    "I''ll talk about my feelings in a minute. Right now I''m just here to tell you how lucky you are. The guy''s not pressing any charges. Neither is the restaurant."


    "Oh thank god..." Gus felt a wave of relief wash over him.


    "Yeah. Thank god. I was gonna try and represent your sorry ass, Gus. But I don''t know if even I could have got you off from nearly committing manslaughter. God, Gus I..."


    Caden looked out the window. Gus could see the frame reflecting off of his eyes.


    "...if you were gonna run away from what ruined us, I just wish you''d stop perpetuating it yourself."


    The words hit Gus like a knife in the dark, and he fell backwards in the chair, his hands still cuffed, and he just didn''t stop falling. The table and chairs and lights of the room grew further and further away as he fell down, down, down into the void, until he landed hard and his shackles evaporated on impact. He felt the same stinging pain in his stomach as he had in the nightmare before. Though his hands were free now, this pain made him feel even more trapped and limited. The trees were an unnatural color, their bark bright and emissive, the ground itself was like a bright burgundy, in the distance he saw a geyser... a geyser between two gargantuan rocks, vomiting ejecta into the sky. Gus felt a warmth from behind, and the pain was gone. Suddenly, he felt drawn toward the geyser.


    He stood up.


    And it was when he took that first step toward it that he awoke.


    <hr>


    Saturday.


    A day which meant little to him. He had no schedule to keep, no place of work he needed to be at by a set time. He could do whatever he wanted to do today. And luckily, that meant nothing would impede him from spending time with people who had invited him out for the day.


    By the time he got downstairs Susie was already watching TV again, flipping through channels until she landed on a war documentary.


    Footage of monsters and men alike overseas, loading an artillery gun with an enormous shell. The firing of the weapon forced sprat and dust into the air from the ground, making a dirty cloud.


    The next shot was of a tall man and a short, stout furry monster, both in battle fatigues and with grins from ear to ear as they were arm in arm and planting a flag in the ground, the relief of a quick victory in their smiles.


    "My grandpappy was in that war." Gus sat down on the couch next to Susie, the old furniture creaking under his weight.


    "Yeah? He ever talk much about it?"


    "Nah. Not really." Gus rubbed the tiredness from his eyes. "He said he didn''t see much as he was a mechanic and for the most part he was working on tanks and jeeps and the such, but what he did see he really, really didn''t like."


    "I bet..."


    "You know what time we gotta meet Kris and them?" Gus scratched at his chin.


    "He said around lunch."


    "Guess we''ll load up ''round a quarter til twelve then."


    "Sounds good." Susie turned the volume up a little.


    "What you want for breakfast, Susie?"


    "Those cinnamon pancakes you made yesterday were pretty good..."


    "Would you like more?"


    "Yeah." She answered, and Gus got up to go make more.


    <hr>


    "It''s the flowershop at the end of North Street, just before the dirt road." Susie said, pointing to her right.


    "Alright." Gus turned.


    When Gus pulled in he saw Kris and two goat monsters looming over him. One he recognized, Asgore. It had been some time since he and Asgore had actually gotten to talk to one another. But it was Asgore who was always supporting Gus in his sobriety, it started as an obligation, given that Asgore was a police officer at the time and the only one in town strong enough to manhandle a drunken Gus, but after Asgore retired from the force he still told Gus to keep out of it, lest he need to ''put his badge back on and taze him.¡¯


    The other goat took Gus a few times to wrap his head around. It was definitely Asgore''s son, Asriel. But it had been so long since he''d last seen him. He was tall, taller than Asgore by at least three inches, nearly eight feet tall. Though he was much more lithe. He had his mother''s countenance as well as her lack of a mane. Instead, a small tuft of white hair rested on top of his head. But a blonde goatee stuck out from his chin, and a mustache with a wide gap in the middle showed that he was definitely Asgore''s son. A pair of green wireframe glasses rested on his snout.


    Kris tugged at Asgore''s jacket and pointed at Gus''s truck as he came to a stop. Gus waved.


    "Hey Gorey." Gus called out. "How you been, brother?"


    Asgore sighed. "Well, Gus." He hugged Asriel and Kris. "I got both my boys back for the day. Couldn''t be better."


    There was a creak in his voice that betrayed his outward happiness.


    "Well I''m glad for you."


    "Asriel. God, you got tall." Gus chuckled.


    "I''ve been gettin'' that one a lot, heh."


    "Hey Kris, what''s up man?" Susie reached in for a fistbump and Kris obliged.


    "Is this the friend you told me about?" Asriel asked.


    Kris nodded.


    "Kris kept telling me about you. For some reason he''s all quiet now but he couldn''t wait to introduce me to you."


    "Oh." Susie said, surprised. "Well, here I am." She smiled. "Hope he didn''t hype you up too much, dude."


    "You seem about what he said you''d be."


    "You''re Asriel, right? He''s told me a lot about you too."


    "Like what?"


    "Like how there was an incident with a magazine and your friend Dess but-"


    "Heyheyheyheyheyhey sh-sh-sh-shhhh." Asriel stopped Susie. Kris started giggling. "Guess I should tell her about a certain book you made me check ou-" Kris frowned and smacked Asriel in the back, launching Asriel into his own fit of laughter.


    Asgore put on a scowl, but he couldn''t be mad at this. "Alright, alright. Enough roughhousing, your mother wants you boys back by sunset and there''s a fair bit I wanna do with you all, so let''s get movin''. Load up."


    "What are we gonna do?" Susie asked. "Kris refused to tell me."


    "You ever been up in the mountains in the snow?" Asriel asked.


    <hr>


    The trees transformed on the way up to the ridge overlooking the valley Hometown was situated in. From a few leaves clinging for dear life, still bright with color, to skeletal branches, to ones frosty and covered with fresh fallen snow. There wasn''t a lot of it. Only about three inches at the very top of the Mountain, and the very lowest the snow had fallen was already melted away, but it was nice to see some after the Summer had been such a hot one this year.


    Susie was particularly terrible with the cold, borrowing a spare jacket Asriel brought along if it was too cold for him, but she seemed to love it. She talked about how long it''d been since she was up on the mountain. And the views were incredible. Watching the gradient of the slopes change, from trees covered in bright white snow at their peaks, to the muted brown in the middle, and the cornucopia of colors at the very bottom, autumn leaves blanketing the landscape of the valleys. Hometown looked so small from up here.


    Gus tapped Susie on her shoulder and pointed out to their houses.


    "Holy shit..." she mumbled under her breath, wowed by the sheer distance and scale.


    "Now." Asgore said. "It only just snowed, but it''s been absolutely frigid up here for about two weeks now, and if I''m right-" He trudged up a hill and looked over. He turned back from the crest and smiled down at the group. "-oooh boy. I was right."


    Asgore went over to the truck and called over Gus and Asriel. "Azzy, you take these, son."


    Asgore handed Asriel three pairs of ice skates. "Let''s hope your old pair fits Susie, eh?"If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "And Gus- you like ice fishing?"


    "I always wanted to try it."


    "Today''ll be your lucky day, then. And... we can catch up."


    <hr>


    The wind was biting cold, but Gus''s jacket kept him warm. They had hiked down the other side of the hill into a place where the mountain ridge plateaued. In the middle of the little bit of flat land there was a pond, long and skinny. Asgore and Gus sat at one end, fishing, while Asriel, Kris, and Susie were at the very far end, ice skating. The unseasonably cold weather had frozen the surface solid to a depth of at least two and a half inches, from what Gus could tell when he carved out a fishing hole with his claws and threw the chunk off to the side. Conditions this cold up here at this time of year were unprecedented, hadn''t happened in decades. But weather at mountain peaks was always fickle, anyway.


    "This pond belongs to Rudy." Asgore said. "About twenty or so odd years ago he came up here and threw in a few bass, trout, daces, you know, a whole run of it. We would come up here to fish every year, bring the kids along too."


    "Hot damn. Fishing at six thousand feet, eh?" Gus took a sip out of a thermos filled with hot cocoa that Asgore had prepared for him.


    "What''s keeping him from coming up this year?" Gus wiped the cocoa away from his muzzle.


    Asriel bubbled his lips. "He uh... he''s in the hospital. I see him every day and he doesn''t seem to be getting any better. Doctor won''t tell me much either."


    "Oh... do they know what''s wrong with him?" Gus sipped at his thermos again.


    "Something in his lungs. They can''t tell without- cutting him open. But they think he''s at too much risk of dying if they do."


    "Fuck..." Gus leaned back in his folding chair, taking in the seriousness of the news. "Damn, Gorey. I''m sorry."


    "People die, you know?" Asgore ignored a tugging at his fishing rod. "Monsters and humans alike."


    He stared up wistfully into the sky, the wind blowing dots of snow on his exposed beard.


    "I just wish it didn''t have to be like that."


    They sat together in silence, both staring out at the other end of the pond as Kris and Asriel tried to teach Susie how to skate. Her legs like jelly and her balance poor, she kept slipping and getting caught by Kris so she didn''t break the ice.


    "And... it''s not like it''s over yet, you know?" Asgore continued. "Some miracle could come to pass and he''ll get up and be just fine, but... things don''t look good."


    "How''s Noelle taking it?" Gus asked.


    "She seems to be doing alright. Hopeful."


    "Hmm." Gus grunted.


    "I''m mostly worried about after the fact, you know? Rudy''s always been emotionally available for her, and Noelle''s a... she''s delicate, you know? Her mother on the other hand... oof..." Asgore took a sip from his own thermos. "She''s not a bad woman, but I will never understand what Rudy sees in her. Hell, I''ll never understand how Noelle could possibly be her daughter. Different in every way. Unlike her mother, she''s got patience to her - softness. She''ll humor people and be kind. With that woman it''s always business, business, business and anything but is just in her way."


    "Yeah... she''s a bit of a case."


    Gus didn''t want to have to sit through another awkward silence so he asked Asgore the next question on his mind.


    "How''s things with Toriel?"


    "You know her?" Asgore asked, surprised.


    "Yeah, I met her just the other day, funny enough. Sweet lady, I''m building her a cabinet right now, actually."


    Asgore chuckled. "Huh. No shit?"


    "I didn''t even know you were divorced from her til she adamantly said she was your ex-wife when I mentioned I knew you. I thought I was finally meetin¡¯ that wife you loved so much. Thought I might get a chance to catch up with you again, til it was clear you were kicked out the house."


    "Yeah... that''s her attitude toward me lately." Asgore rested his head in his hand. "I wish I knew. I have to ask Kris and he can only tell me so much. I just wish she''d speak to me again..."


    Asgore took another sip at his Cocoa, apparently having nothing more to say on the subject, but the look on his face told Gus that it was a very sore feeling he had about the whole thing, and that he chose a piss-poor subject to talk about. But the moment wouldn''t last long, as Asgore had his own question.


    "How''s sobriety treating you?"


    Gus, thankfully, had good news to give.


    "Great." He leaned forward in his seat. "I don''t have no more than two shots of whiskey every day if I can help it, maybe a beer every now and then..."


    "Two shots, huh?" Asgore''s line tugged slightly and he leaned in to focus on it. "So you''re still keeping that tradition up?"


    "Caden swore by it." Gus chuckled. "I don''t believe it myself, but... I feel like someone has to keep it alive."


    "That''s good." Asgore said, apparently no longer focusing on his line. "Your brother was a good man. I''m... sorry he had to go the way he did."


    "He didn''t have to." Gus said, sourly. "Neither of them had to go that way... all I had to do was be faster."


    Asgore rested a hand on Gus''s shoulder. "It''s not your fault. And it never will be."


    Out in the distance the two of them heard a shout. It was Susie, who was skating on her own. "FUCK YEAAAAAAAH!!!" She went in a perfectly straight line, and about halfway across the pond she realized she was unable to turn. Once she reached the other end of the pond, she promptly tripped and faceplanted into a snowdrift on shore. Kris and Asriel laughed and cheered, and Gus chuckled.


    <hr>


    Gus and Asgore were astonished to find that they caught a few fairly sizable bass and catfish. Halving out their catches, Gus took one half and Asgore took the other. Asgore explained he was certain he''d run his luck with Toriel''s kindness today and he''d appreciate it if Gus could take both Asriel and Kris home so he didn¡¯t have to face her wrath, and so that his kids didn''t have to walk.


    It was right after the two of them went into the front door that Toriel stopped Gus and asked him if he''d like to come over tomorrow for Sunday dinner. Seeing no reason to turn her down, Gus agreed.


    When Gus came into view of his house, the sun sinking behind the mountains ahead of him, he saw who could be no other than Susie''s mother leaning against the railing of the steps up to his front porch. He slowed to a stop in the middle of the road. The engine idling softly.


    She shot a glance at him that made his blood run cold. It was the first time he had ever seen her face. She looked like she was in her sixties, but Gus doubted she was actually that old. An ugly scar ran across her pink snout. Her hair looked greasy and unwashed. She was as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside.


    "Oh god..." Susie drew up into herself, she tensed, pulling herself into a fetal position, her knees up to her face. She squeezed herself. Hard.


    Gus put a hand on her shoulder.


    "Ease up." He squeezed her shoulder softly.


    "I ain''t lettin'' her take you."


    Slowly, he pulled into the driveway. Susie''s mother watched him the entire way, cutting the most vicious, bloodshot gaze he had ever seen in his life.


    He turned off the engine and unbuckled himself before taking a deep breath and cracking his neck and knuckles, popping the stiffness in his elbows as well. Just in case he needed to get limber. He turned to face Susie.


    "I''m gonna get out this car. And I''m gonna go talk to her."


    Susie''s eyes widened with fear.


    "When I do that, I want you to lock these doors. And under no circumstances, until I say so, for your safety, are you to unlock them."


    Susie began to panic, tears were welling up in her eyes. Gus had never seen her cry, and he wasn''t about to now.


    "Hey, hey, hey, hey. Take it easy. Breathe." He gripped her shoulder again and rocked her gently. "Look at me. It''s okay. Look at me."


    Susie met his gaze.


    "As long as I have a say in any of this, I will never let her hurt you again."


    Susie shook her head.


    "No, no, no. God. No. She''ll kill you, PLEASE Gus."


    "Nobody is killin'' me today." The sheer direction and determination in Gus''s voice, the gruff growl of it, the power it commanded in this moment made Susie interrupt her own protests and she looked back up at him. And she felt like she could trust him. Even with this.


    She wiped the tears welling up in her eyes away and nodded.


    Gus got out of the truck. He saw the locks go down through the window as Susie immediately secured them.


    Susie''s mother stared right through him.


    "So. Right across my damn road." She pulled out a pack of cigarettes- 100s, and she stuck one in her mouth, struck a match on her jeans, and lit it. "Right. Across. My. Damn. Road." She stood up from where she was leaning and took one long pull of the cigarette. When she exhaled it was as though the smoke came from a raging coal fire in her lungs. Gus could smell the nicotine from where he was stood, some thirty-five feet away.


    Gus looked back at the truck. Susie was watching with her mouth covered, rocking back and forth.


    "I have to admit, I thought the dumb bitch finally ran away..." Susie''s mom stepped closer. "...that was, til I heard her voice screamin'' yesterday. Right in there." She pointed a gangly finger out to Gus''s workshop. "And, sure enough..." She took another pull of her cigarette. "I seen her in there with you. Woodworkin''."


    "She seems to enjoy it." Gus said, breaking the silence on his end.


    "Is that so?" Susie''s mother was now no more than ten feet in front of Gus. She had advanced slowly, monologuing the entire time, doing her little dance of intimidation. Gus had seen it before, and he wasn''t afraid of it. This woman was the very embodiment of a sad, meaningless nothing. And she would stay that way.


    "I think... it''s about time for my Susie to come home, huh?" She said, a singsong tone in her voice. It just rubbed Gus wrong.


    "That ain''t gonna happen." He said.


    Susie''s mother raised her eyebrows. "Oh?" she asked, blowing smoke. She chuckled hoarsely.


    "So, what''s your deal then? Who are you supposed to be to her?" She stopped moving, expectant of Gus''s answer.


    "Someone who cares. I''m her friend."


    "FRIEND?" The woman shouted to the heavens and began laughing, her pink scales shining in the sunset, mop of red hair flying wildly into the wind. Crows perched on a nearby tree panicked at the sudden noise and flew away, the flap of their wings breaking through the sound of the wind.


    She was now within five feet of Gus, fully comprehending his size. He loomed over her by an entire foot and was much, much more stocky. But she was unfazed. She had tools other than size, and she was about to use them.


    "Lemme cut to the chase here, you fat fuck." She took in another breath of the cigarette. "Are you fucking my daughter? Huh? Is that the kind of ''fRiEnD'' you are?"


    Gus was shocked. How. Fucking. Dare.


    "No. I am not and I never would, you sick, degenerate filth. I''m doing what you should have done the moment she was born, I''m taking care of her."


    "Well, I wonder what the police would think, eh? Kidnapping a young girl..."


    Gus felt his blood boil, his head growing hot, but he knew all too well that this was precisely what the bitch wanted. He breathed deep and took a single, thunderous step toward Susie''s mom and stood there, less than a foot away from her, looking down.


    She didn''t know how to react to this. She likely expected him to knock her block off so she could have an assault charge, Gus was certain of it.


    Gus loomed over her and watched her start shaking. She seemed to just shrink. He outstretched a hand, palm-side up, and protracted his claws mere inches away from her face. The size of a single claw as long as one of her bony fingers. He could see the fear in her eyes and he swore he picked up on the sound of her quickening heartbeat.


    "You go right the fuck ahead." Gus said. "You call ''em. You bring ''em here. And I''ll tell them how you don''t feed her, how you steal her food, how you kick her out into the cold, cold night for the slightest thing. I''ll show them the bruise she still has on her arm, the one in the shape of your hand."


    "If there even is only one." He scoffed. "I''m sure there''s more."


    They stood there frozen for a moment, the old lizard looking up at the mountainous creature that stood between her and her slave.


    Gus made a sudden movement with the paw he had out, frightening Susie''s mother.


    The miserable bitch yelped and fell flat on her ass. In her fear she had swallowed what was left of her cigarette and coughed furiously before she spat it up. Gus was laughing.


    "Go back home. This is private property." He delivered the joke as if it was raw venom pouring from his tongue.


    Susie''s mother scrambled to her feet and started walking backwards and shouting in her same hoarse voice.


    "YOU KNOW WHAT?" Her spindly legs began moving toward the street. "FINE, YOU BIG FAT PIECE''A''SHIT. YOU CAN HAVE MY UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BRAT. I DON''T WANT HER NO MORE. TAKE HER, MOTHERFUCKER. TAKE HER. GET HER THE FUCK OUT OF MY HAIR!"


    Gus heard the door of his truck open. "GO HOME YOU UGLY BITCH!" Susie shouted after her. "I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?"


    Susie''s mother stopped in her tracks and began marching up the hill again. Susie yelped and shut the door. Gus immediately moved toward the advancing menace and yelled after her. "YOU HEARD HER."


    Susie''s mother stopped again, fear gripping her once more.


    "She doesn''t want to see you again" Gus snarled.


    With that, Susie¡¯s mother began slinking away across the street, and she made it across, grumbling to herself, but without further incident.


    Gus went to the truck and opened the passenger door, where Susie sat, close to tears.


    "I''m s-sorry... I w-wasn''t supposed to unlock-"


    "It''s okay. It''s okay. I understand." Susie did not reach in for a hug, she didn''t move, she simply sat there, frozen, choking back tears.


    "Let''s get inside, okay, Susie? Let''s get inside."


    Susie was shaking the entire walk back, she let Gus rest his arm on her back to steady her.


    "You''re safe now." He said.

 Demons at the Peaks

    Saturday night was blissfully absent of nightmares. Gus woke up easy. The only thing greeting him being the faint daylight out his bedroom window. His house casting a long shadow over his workshop. Gus went downstairs and heard the TV on again. But Susie wasn''t watching it this time. She was fretting over her jacket and jeans, staring at the frayed edges and poking her fingers through the holes.


    "You alright?" Gus asked her. "After- last night, I mean. Your mother."


    Susie stopped eying her clothes and dropped them to her waist. She brushed a strand of her hair out of the way. It was damp. She had just showered.


    "Yeah... I... I still got a bad feelin'' about it, but- that¡¯s done for now. Right now I''m just worried about- well I don''t wanna look like shit at Kris''s house."


    That was a first. Susie never seemed to pay much mind to her appearance before. But what surprised Gus more was how much her mind wasn''t on what had happened yesterday. She barely got to sleep last night and Gus sat by her side for hours, promising to be at her side until she fell asleep on his couch. But this was a delicate situation Gus didn''t particularly think was very polite to prod in, especially after her extremely adverse reaction to the turmoil of yesterday evening. So he let it go.


    "You wanna look nice for something?" He joked, leaning against the high wall of his living room.


    Susie''s frustration seemed to deflate, and she broke into a smile, a brighter vocal tone accompanying it. "Yeah. For once, right? I just- Miss Toriel invited us to Sunday dinner and it feels a little less- casual, y''know?"


    "I can help you with that."


    Susie turned back to face Gus. "How can you?"


    "Well, my mother, she was about as tall as you, built like you too. She left behind some clothes when she... y''know."


    "Oh..." Susie''s gaze cast downward.


    "Ah-ba-ba-ba..." Gus put his hands up, interrupting the feelings of loss. "No time for me to think about that, I guess. But uh, yeah. I haven''t been able to find the heart to part with em'', so... I imagine at least some would fit you - suit your style. She was one of them rebellious types in the sixties and seventies, you know? I always remember bein'' real young and seeing her walk around in men''s leather jackets, blue jeans, the type. I''m sure she''s got something in good condition that''ll strike a chord with you."


    Within minutes Susie had found exactly what she was looking for from the closet in the unused bedroom up Gus''s stairs. A black leather jacket and a pair of plaid bell bottoms that fit her snugly. Gus''s mother had shoes that barely fit Susie. They were a size too small, but Susie insisted on "completing the fit." When she was done, she told Gus he could come in. She stood in front of the full body mirror, hands on her hips. She seemed proud of what she had put together out of decades'' old clothes.


    "Man, I just stepped out of another century. Damn."


    "Looks good on you." Gus smiled. "Now you just need to cut your hair."


    "No!" Susie exclaimed, shooting Gus a mean glance. Gus wheezed laughter through his teeth.


    Susie looked back into the mirror and tilted her head curiously. "Although... I guess the long hair doesn''t really go with it."


    Gus was frankly startled she had such a genuine sense of fashion. She probably just never had the means to express it before.


    "I don''t wanna cut it though, I''d rather gather part of it back though. You know, like in a ponytail? Maybe the top half, I kinda like the idea of the rest of my hair flowing freely."


    "Check the big plastic box." Gus pointed. "Should be some scrunchies in there. Ma wore a ponytail til the day she died."


    Susie rummaged around and found a bright orange scrunchy. A bit garish, but it stood out against her dark hair perfectly, and the way she did it up was beautiful. A ponytail up top and it fell naturally from there. Gus was still impressed that she had fashion sense this damn good.


    "Wow, Susie. That''s a really good look for you."


    Gus was already dressed in his usual attire. Plaid shirt, blue denim overalls, and slip-on workboots, but he chose the nicest of those things that he had on hand. Minus the cap he usually wore atop his head.


    He glanced at the watch on his left wrist. "Well, it''s about 11:30. The Dreemurr''s should be back home from Church any minute now. We should get movin¡¯."


    Susie turned around and opened her mouth, but she seemed to get caught on the thought she was about to voice. "Sorry. Nevermind."


    "No, it''s okay. Go ahead" Gus encouraged.


    "Do you... do you think Kris will like it? The way I''m dressed, I mean."


    Gus thought about that question, and then he found himself smirking wryly, knowingly. He levelled his expression when he noticed Susie was glowering and embarrassed about it.


    "Yeah." He said. "Yeah, I think he''ll love it."


    There was still a nip in the air when Susie and Gus stepped out on the front porch, their breaths visible. Gus turned around to lock the door- a precaution he rarely took out here in the countryside where he was for the most part safe from home invasion, and he could blow away any threat with a 12-gauge he kept next to his bed. But considering what happened yesterday evening, it was warranted. Susie tugged at Gus''s flannel, and he turned around to see her pointing at something resting right beside the front door. It was a 12-string guitar. A nice one, too.


    "Where''d that come from?"


    "It''s... mine." Susie answered. She bent down to pick it up. "It''s the only thing Mom ever let me have... I thought for sure she''d break it or burn it or something for sure, but I never thought she''d... give it back to me."


    "I didn''t know you played guitar." Gus smiled. "I never could get the handle of it myself. But I''m alright with a dulcimer."


    Susie chuckled. "Dulcimer? Geez, you really are a hick, old man."


    Gus smiled. "Never claimed to be anythin'' but!"


    Susie plucked at the strings, frowning when she heard they were out of tune.


    "Come on." Gus patted her on the back. "Take it with you. You can show Kris a thing or two."


    Susie smiled. She tried tuning it as she walked down the porch steps. It was when she fumbled and slipped slightly, barely regaining her footing, that she stopped trying that real quick.


    Gus cackled. "Maybe you can tune it on the ride!"


    <hr>


    "Our holy friend and guiding light, Angel above, we thank you for this meal, may it fill our stomachs and our hearts. Amen."


    Everyone at the table let go of their prayer circle and began digging in. Kris and Susie next to each other, while Gus sat between Asriel and Toriel. As was the prerequisite, Toriel had prepared an enormous butterscotch and cinnamon pie for the return of her eldest son and the two extra guests they were having over. Among other dishes were an entire roast chicken, some fried trout from what Asgore had handed off to Asriel before Gus took him home yesterday, green beans, snow peas, peaches, apples, watermelon slices, a hearty potato stew with mushrooms and chickpeas mixed among large chunks of carrots and onion slices, cornbread, grilled leeks, biscuits, and bread rolls. It was a lovely feast, all prepared to perfection by Toriel.


    For the most part Gus spoke with Toriel about how the cabinet was coming along and how Susie had helped, she applauded Susie and she blushed. Kris and Susie were chattering all the way, joking and nudging at each other, testing Toriel''s patience. It was the first time Gus had ever heard the boy speak, and his voice was about what he expected to come out of him. Asriel didn''t seem to have much of an appetite, only eating a slice of pie, a chicken wing, and part of a bread roll. Toriel scolded him for neglecting his greens, but the college boy insisted he''d eat them as leftovers.


    Gus was the slow eater this time, savoring every bite of this incredible dinner. He was almost finished when Kris nudged Asriel and whispered in his ear about something. Asriel perked up and whispered something to Toriel. "Oh!" the woman explained, the fur on her ears standing on end. "Right, right, right right..." She got up from her seat.


    "So, Gus" Toriel began, "Kris told me that Susie had learned something about you."


    "Oh?" Gus asked, wiping his mouth, genuinely curious.


    "Yes. And I usually don''t condone drinking alcohol in my house, but- well- you only have two shots a day, right?"


    Gus shifted his eyes left to Asriel, and then right to Susie and Kris. Kris gave a thumbs up. "Yes ma''am." Gus answered.


    Toriel put down a small jar. It was some commercial moonshine, the label underneath read ''butterscotch''.


    "No..." Gus said. "You didn''t." A wide smile drew across his face.


    "After I heard you enjoyed this kind of drink I kept thinking about it and I remembered that this distillery up the mountain sells some, so I went up this morning and bought some. Lucky we are that this isn''t a dry county, huh?"


    "Whoah." Asriel said. "When do you go to a distillery, mom?" A coy grin on his otherwise tired face.


    "Asriel you know even I like a little... something... every now and then. Mostly wine, though." Her eyes darted nervously around.


    "You had some shine didn''t you, Mom?"


    Toriel backhanded him on the shoulder gently, and Asriel chuckled.


    "Well maybe a little... but only a shot!" Toriel straightened her sweater. "And before you ask, yes, it was good."


    She turned her attention back to Gus, who was still bewildered. "Anyway, Gus- here you go." She planted a shot glass down with the same insignia on it as the university shirt Asriel was wearing.


    "What the..." he said. "MOM! I told you not to rummage around in my stuff!"


    "I didn''t go through anything. It was you who put it up on display in your room."


    "That''s still-" Asriel fumbled over his words. "-it''s just for DECORATION."


    "Sure didn''t smell like it was just for decoration. Vodka, huh?"


    "That was three days ago!" Asriel protested. "How did you smell tha-"


    "AAAALRIGHT." Gus finally broke the long altercation with his drawn out, booming interjection. "Y''all can have this little drama later, I wanna try this lovely gift of liquor in peace."


    Asriel and his mother suddenly seemed to remember they had guests. Both of them looked slightly embarrassed by their inappropriate outburst and they calmed down. "Sorry about that, Gus." Toriel smiled. Asriel grumbled.


    Gus poured a shot of butterscotch moonshine, and in confidence, he downed it.


    Everything about every single shot of whiskey he had ever taken melted away. This was sweet, so smooth it was damn near creamy, and the alcohol aftertaste burning through his nostrils after downing it was delicate. "Angel... that is... my god that is good."


    "You wanna try a little cinnamon with it?" Toriel asked, pulling out a small jar of homemade syrup. "After all, I pair it with my pies for a reason."


    Gus saw no reason not to, and agreed. He poured a shot and toriel put in a few drops of syrup, Gus stirred with the handle of a spoon and downed it once the cinnamon seemed to dissipate.


    The expression on Gus''s face read as though he had just seen god.


    "Tori..."


    "Yes?" she asked.


    "We need to market this."


    <hr>


    Gus stuck around after dinner so that he could watch a football game with Asriel, and Susie could hang out with Kris. Asriel had gone to the restroom right around the time Gus needed to, and Toriel said he could use hers upstairs.


    On his way up, he heard the sound of soft strumming on his way up. He stopped to listen closer, and coming from his right, he heard a girl softly singing.


    He tiptoed down the hall, quiet as he could for how large he was, and noticed the first door on his right was open a crack. He peeked inside, and saw Susie strumming at her guitar and singing to Kris, who was sitting right in front of her. Just from the sound of her voice Gus could tell she was singing much more softly and the song actually asked for in an actual performance, like she only wanted Kris to hear.


    "In a fast German car..."


    "I''m amazed that I survived..."


    "An airbag saved my life..."


    Susie and Kris leaned in close to each other, both mere inches away now. Gus stepped away from the door. He didn''t want to tarnish that moment by spying in on it. It was some of the dorkiest shit he thought he''d ever seen, but... it made him happy to see them happy.


    <hr>


    By the time Gus came back into the living room from his bathroom break, the game had started and Asriel was on one end of the couch. He looked like he was barely clinging to consciousness.


    "Where''s your mother?" Gus inquired as he sat down.


    "She went out to take the trash off to the dump." Asriel answered groggily.


    "I coulda done it for her..." Gus leaned back.


    "She''s like that." Asriel rubbed his eyes. "If she can do it for herself she absolutely will."


    "Yeah..."


    "God, I just wanna sleep..."


    "You okay, Azzy?" Gus asked.


    "I''m fine, I just- I- I barely slept"


    "How come?"


    "It''s no big deal, don''t worry about it."


    "No, really, tell me. I might be able to help. I know a few good medicines that are sold over the counter that can fix you right up."


    "Well- it isn''t really getting to sleep. It''s what happens WHEN I sleep."


    "Oh." Gus leaned forward, at attention.


    "I uh- I have these nightmares. Bad ones. And all of them are the same in some aspects. Recurring, you know? And I swear each time it scares the shit out of me. It''s just a gamble whether I''ll wake up gasping for air or not."


    "Hmm... tell me about them." Gus said. "That is, if you''re willing."


    Asriel stared at him with red, tired eyes. "Well I- I''ve told you this far, I don''t see why not." He leaned forward and rested his weight on his legs so that he could keep from falling asleep.


    "It always starts here. In Hometown. I''m in the room with Kris, and it''s early morning. He''s still asleep. And it''s snowing outside. Not a lot mind you, it''s light. Something about it feels strange, though, like it''s a little early for snow, you know? Not a lot though, maybe by three weeks at most? I go to wake up Kris because I feel like it''s important, for some reason. I can''t say why. But when I go to shake him awake, the covers just- deflate. Flatten. Like he was never under them to begin with. And nowhere I look, in the sheets, under the bed, under my bed, downstairs, he''s not there. He''s just gone. Disappeared."


    Asriel now had Gus''s absolute attention. It would take a knife to cut through his gaze right now.


    "So I run to Mom. I shake her awake, and her sheets do the same. Go flat, no trace of her no matter where I look, no matter how hard I look. And I start freakin'' out, right? I''m terrified, my mother, my brother, they disappear right before my eyes, so I try to run to dad''s shop, but I step out the front door and everything about the front yard is wrong. That bunker- that damn bunker in the woods, down near the church, is sitting right in front of me for some reason. Some freaky fucking humming is coming from it, it gets louder and louder, and I can''t bring myself to run from it. And the door just -explodes open. I freak out, and suddenly everything around me disappears, even the ground beneath my feet, and I just start tumbling, tumbling. Down, down. The air is cold and it whips my face like I''m running through tree branches. Eventually after like, three straight minutes of falling, I see ground. It''s covered in snow. Everything is covered in snow. And then I hit the ground. Hard. I feel like every organ in my body is thrown a hundred feet into the air and then just violently pulled back into me. Like I split into a million tiny pieces and some... unknowable force is piecing me back together. But there''s no pain."


    Gus went even further into his lean.


    "There''s fog. Thick, dense, freezing fog. I can''t see more than about a hundred feet in any direction. And then this guy- he walks up to me. One eye is missing, and the other one is jaundiced and his teeth are rotten... and... and he- well he kinda looks like you. But he''s shorter, thinner."


    Gus felt his heart begin to beat faster.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "And this guy is, he''s covered, man. Covered in- what looks like blood. But it''s not human blood, you know? It''s more like that kind of- that blue stuff that some monsters bleed, you know? The ones who- don''t turn to dust when they die. And he just asks me how my fall was. And it''s around this time that I realize I''m naked as the day I was born. So I cover myself. And he laughs at me. It scares me. Like there''s such- evil behind that laugh, it''s so disgusting and off-putting, sneering and superior. He doesn''t even wait for me to answer the question he asked me. He just says ''There ain''t no shame here, boy. We''ve no need for it.'' And then he turns around and leaves me without another word, and I see there''s a hole in the back of his head.


    This- metal plate hanging off the back of it."


    Gus''s heart began to pound. There was no way in hell that Asriel was describing what he thought he was.


    But he was. He absolutely was.


    "And I start walking. I''m not covered anymore. I just... keep walking. And I walk past this old barn with a fenced in area next to it, dead horses littering it, rotting cows in another fence. And the smell- god, the smell is beyond description. Even in the biting cold and the few inches of snow, it''s awful. So bad that sometimes when I walk past this place I vomit. But not all the time. There''s this house with a light on, but I don''t want to go inside of it. I feel something there. I don''t want to know what''s inside. But I hear screams coming from it. And they''re fucking horrible. They sound like the most agonized screams I have ever heard."


    Gus shuddered, his blood ran cold.


    "So instead, I keep walking until I find a road. I pass a... a horrible looking car wreck, but nobody''s in it, and at the wreck there are these, these two burning houses on both sides of the street. And after that it just keeps ramping up. All these weird people talk to me. I meet a jester, you know, like a court jester? And he keeps talking about chaos and how it''s the natural order of things, and then there''s this salesman dressed sharp, with his hair slicked back and a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He offers me all these weird deals and eggs me on, saying that heaven itself waits just down the road. And then several other ones I could mention, but there''s just too damn many. Then the fog just- clears. Out of nowhere. And then I see it in the distance, I see the mountain. The big one. You know the one. To the west."


    Gus was doing everything in his power to keep from exploding into a panic. This was not happening. This was NOT happening.


    "And all of a sudden, I pass out. And then I''m there. On top of the mountain. Waist-deep in snow. It''s so thick that the trees are bending over under the weight of it with the rime ice covering their trunks. Suddenly, I''m really warm. And a man is there. Tall, taller than any man I have ever seen. He¡¯s real skinny and lanky. His face is made of bone, two black holes for eyes and this... disgusting grin. It''s just wrong. Him existing is so, so wrong. Cracks run up and down his face, and he has this long black cloak on that blows in the wind. And then he raises his hands. There are holes in them. It''s like- I can''t... I can''t move. And the holes in his hands, they have no bottom. There''s nothing on the other side, just- black. Black... endless."


    Guss was sweating from his brow now, deep breaths in and out through his nose.


    "And then he starts moving his hands, whispering, speaking with them. It''s like I can hear them, but not really. Like I can read them, but not really. It''s indescribable, but I know what he''s saying, sort of. He''s saying I have to do something, and I can never fully understand what it is he''s asking of me. And I''m too scared to ask. After I''m silent for a time, he just- he points. Points to the ground. And it starts shaking, shaking like I have never felt it shake before. And then the mountain splits. It just splits. In half. It''s like this massive gap, as wide as a football field is long. And this dense black cloud, blacker than oil, just starts spewing out of it. And I''ve never felt more terrified of anything in my life, than at the end of this fucking dream. Every. Single. Time. And then I wake up."


    Gus was hyperventilating at this point, staring Asriel in the face. He felt like he was going to scream. He was going to vomit. He needed to vomit. But he couldn''t just leave now. Of all the things Gus was expecting today, he never, ever could have imagined anything at all like this. But he knew what he had to say. Asriel started off reluctantly at first, but the desperation and fear in his voice was so tangible and genuine the further he got into the story, it felt like he was unloading something that had been weighing him down for a lifetime.


    "Wait for these dreams to pass, and under no circumstances- do not EVER- speak to that man on the mountain. Not in your dream. Not if you see him in real life. Never."


    Gus stood up and covered his mouth. He charged to the bathroom on wobbly legs and flung the door open before falling weakly to his knees and vomiting into the toilet. Toriel got home right as he ran to the restroom and chased after him.


    "My god, Gus! Are you alright? Are you sick? Was it the liquor?" She shot another five hundred questions as she stood over him like the concerned pesky mother she was.


    "I''m fine. I''m fine." He waved her off. "I just... I need to get home, I think. I''m really not feeling well."


    "I''ll go with him." It was Susie. She and Kris were down the stairs, looking into the bathroom, the both of them apparently having come downstairs when they heard the commotion.


    "But... don''t you wanna hang out with Kris a little more?" Gus asked her. "Would you like me to just come pick you up later, Susie?"


    Susie looked at Kris, and Kris seemed to understand. She slung her guitar behind her back by the strap. "You don''t look too good, old man. I don''t... I don''t wanna leave you alone right now, okay?"


    "Yeah. Okay." He wiped the sweat from his brow.


    Toriel packed him some leftovers quickly and shoved them into his hands, giving him the butterscotch moonshine and the cinnamon syrup.


    "I''m... so, so sorry about this, Toriel. I''m just-"


    "Shhhh." She hushed him. "Nonsense. You go home and get rest. You''re not feeling well."


    "Thank you."


    As he and Susie walked toward the door, he noticed Asriel had fallen asleep on the couch. He was shivering.


    <hr>


    Gus''s tire had blown out in front of Grillby''s and he and Susie were stuck in the parking lot. By some freakishly bad luck a sharp rock was in the middle of the road. The illness in his stomach had subsided, and he thought back to how he vomited as he was putting on the spare tire he had. There was a finality to it. Something about it, it felt like that would be the last time he would vomit for a while. It was such an odd way to feel about something. But he felt it. And something about that feeling was wrong. Unnatural.


    Gus was on his knees, pushing in the last bolt with his four-wrench. Susie was leaning up against the back of the truck.


    "You sure you''re okay, Gus?"


    "...Yeah. Yeah I am now."


    "What happened back there?"


    "I''ll tell you later. I need... I still need a bit, alright?"


    "Okay..." Susie looked around the parking lot, and suddenly perked up once she noticed it was completely empty, with nobody within earshot nearby. "Hey, you wanna hear something funny, I''m sure it''ll cheer you up a little."


    Gus thought about it for a bit. He really wasn¡¯t in the mood after basically having a panic attack, but he decided it would be rude to not give the girl a chance. "You know what, sure. I could use a laugh."


    "You know that graffiti across the street from here that popped up last week?"


    "Yeah."


    "That was me and Kris."


    "WHAT?!?" Gus dropped the four-wrench. "Why in god''s name?" He stood up straight.


    Susie was quiet for a second. She seemed a little surprised by Gus''s reaction.


    "Kris thought it''d be funny to trick everyone that there was some sort of anti-human group in town. You know, liven things up a little." She smirked.


    Gus was still mildly upset, but the more he thought about it, the funnier he found it, and he started laughing. "You know, he- he did stir up a bit of shit." Gus wheezed. "But damn, if his mother ever found out she''d kill his ass."


    Susie looked scared.


    "Oh don''t worry, my lips are sealed." Gus waved her off and picked the four-wrench back up.


    Susie breathed easy, knowing this would stay between them.


    All that drama, all that wondering, for it to amount to a dumb joke between two friends. None of the speculation, wondering, questioning, curiosity- none of it made a shit. Gus couldn¡¯t help but just let that tickle him pink. It damn well could have caused a panic, but Susie and Kris did it for the hell of it. It meant absolutely NOTHING. And to him, that was hilarious. But of course he couldn¡¯t condone such behavior, and came to his senses fairly quickly.


    "Thank you, for uh... telling me that. It does make me feel a little better. BUT NEVER, EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN." He pointed a fat finger at Susie and gave her a stern look.


    She put her hands up like she was going to start backing away, gulped, and nodded her head.


    But Gus wasn''t really mad. It was stupid and they could have got in serious trouble, but what''s it worth spending your youth without raising a little hell for the fuck of it? Besides, nobody got hurt aside from a few snob-nosed pouty lips at city hall- well, them and the guys who had to wash it off, but they got paid for it! He hoped...


    It was when he was done putting on the spare that he saw his dread. That bit of good humor left his spirit as quick as it entered. It was Arnie.


    Not just any kind of Arnie, a drunk one. On a Sunday afternoon, of all afternoons.


    And like most people, intoxication was Arnie''s greatest lubricant for confidence. It was also an excellent lubricant for him to start slipping into the accent he tried to hide. He drunkenly strolled right up to Gus as he was putting the four-wrench in the bed of his truck.


    "Heyyyy Gus- how about I-"


    "Arnie. Not today. Not right now. I am not in the fucking mood."


    Susie looked confused, wondering who this strange man was and why Gus was so firm with him. Gus hadn''t been so openly severe in front of her before, not even in the confrontation with her mother was he so direct. He started walking around to his side of the truck when Arnie began unleashing all manner of hellfire from his lips. He waved his one fist in the air, a bottle of scotch far too expensive clasped in it, label out in the open for the world to view.


    "OH LOOKIT YOU, MISTER ANGUS BIRCHBITER. BIG MAAAAN! BRUSHIN'' OFF OOOOOLD ARNIE! You''ve blown me off four damn times this fuckin'' week, you fuckin''... hayseed half-WIT!!!"


    Gus just ignored him, Susie was already in the truck and he was about to join her, when Arnie said something that made Gus stop before he even opened the door.


    "MAYBE IT''S TIME FER YOU TO FACE THE FUCKIN'' FACTS! Yer ranch ain''t worth half a hunnerd k cuz''a what you let happen there!"


    Susie watched as Gus froze at the door. With an endless stone gaze, Gus backed away.


    "What did you just say?"


    "Ah said..." Arnie took a swig of his scotch. "You. Let. It. Happen."


    Gus made an uncomfortable, anxious smile. And he laughed. But he was not amused. He was not amused in the least. He began walking back toward the back end of the truck.


    "Yer damn mama, Gus. Yer own fucken brother... you knew age hadn''t taken one fuckin bit of the mean streak outchyer daddeh, but you couldn''t get there fast enuf when yer own brother screamed at you over the phone that him and yer mama needed help. You moseyed on over there like nothing was happenin''. Ev''ry bit of blood you saw was on you, selfish FUCKIN you."


    Gus was less than six feet away from Arnie at this point, but Arnie was too drunk to get the message. He just took another swig of his scotch.


    "I wish yer daddy put a divot in yer head with that fryin pan, too. We all do, Gus. This whole damn town!" Arnie laughed hard and took another swig. "And maybe, just fucken maybe, if you was dead, you wouldn''t have to mope about how that hag you was married to was sneakin off the reservation to get some dirty, damp, and deep from somewhere else."


    "So." Gus said, undertones of rage betraying the calm of his voice. "Your... brilliant idea to get me to sell you my ranch for nearly a third less than its worth, is by telling me that the murder of my brother and mother is my fault? And to... insult me about my ex wife''s infidelity?"


    "Seems about it." Arnie burped.


    "Mmm, brilliant." Gus chuckled.


    Gus snatched the bottle from Arnie''s hand. He tipped it over, emptying it on the parking lot asphalt, staring right through Arnie as he did it. The cat looked pissed, as if he were about to do something hasty. That was until Gus smashed the bottle on the back of his truck. The thick glass of the lower half exploded, showering the bed of his pickup with pieces. Arnie seemed to sober up real quick after that.


    Susie got out of the truck, having seen the whole thing. She started moving toward Gus and began pleading with him. "WOAH. WOAH, MAN, WOAH. GUS."


    Gus held out a hand toward her, stopping her from coming up to intervene any further.


    "H-hey now." Arnie said shakily. "Y-you cain''t do this to me. I-I''m disa-dis-disabled." He smiled nervously and wiggled the nub of what remained of his right arm.


    "Oh but I can." Gus approached him, the broken end of the bottle pointed toward the drunk, hapless fool¡¯s neck like angry, sharp, jagged little teeth.


    Arnie was backing up without looking where he was going, and Gus was advancing, pushing him back without even having to touch him.


    "I absolutely fucking can, Arnie. There are repercussions to it, of course... legal consequences and ramifications, things most people don''t want to deal with, things I myself don''t want to deal with."


    There was a certain menace to the way Gus approached Arnie, towering over him, swaggering, the sharp, broken bottle held inches away from the fat cat''s neck.


    "But I''m past that, now Arnie. You sure did have a lot to say. Had a lot of shit to talk. And now, I''m gonna show you a thing or two about why keeping your fuckin'' mouth shut can be a very, very good thing. And by the time I''m done, you''re really, really gonna hate me."


    Arnie promptly wet himself. The smell was immediate, and foul.


    "Oh god, Gus. Gus please, man. Chill, dude!" Susie shouted after him. She slammed her hands on her head, shaking.


    "Please, please god I''M SORRY, GUS, I-" Arnie¡¯s pleas were cut short when he fell back, tripping over the curb of the sidewalk that Gus had guided him to. But Arnie never hit the ground. Gus caught the collar of his shirt, preventing him from falling. He pulled Arnie to stand straight on his own two feet and let him catch his breath.


    Gus stared him down angrily for a few seconds. The cat¡¯s eyes were wide, his pupils barely even slits, sweat rolled down the thick purple fur of his forehead, and his entire body heaved with each agonized breath. Gus threw the bottle to the side. Arnie shut his eyes tight when he saw Gus move, and the sound of the bottle breaking made him jump.


    Gus had no idea how to process what just happened, and Arnie especially didn''t.


    "You ain''t gettin'' my land, Arnie." Gus let go of his shirt. "Get the fuck out of here and sober up. It''s Sunday. Spend time with your folks."


    Gus pushed the purple cat away and turned around, heading for the truck. Arnie just stood there, watching, soaked in his own urine. Susie was dumbfounded, but without asking anything, she loaded back up into the truck.


    As Gus cranked the engine, Susie looked back to the old cat. He fell to his knees where he stood. It looked like the man¡¯s entire world had collapsed, and he had been sapped of all his energy, going from the haze of drunken foolishness to the cruel reality of sober realization within a matter of minutes. She almost pitied him. Almost.


    There was about a solid minute of awkward silence on the ride back before Susie broke it.


    "...God!... What was that back there, man?"


    "I don''t... I don''t know..."


    "Are you alright?"


    "No. No, I don''t think I am."


    The rest of the ride home was silent.


    <hr>


    Gus ran to the bathroom and started washing his face the moment he got home. He needed the sensation of cold water on his face to relax.


    "What was that guy''s deal, Gus?" Susie asked.


    "He''s... a regular at Grillby''s. I got a piece of land for sale and I keep turning him down. He finally took it a step too far and I... snapped."


    Susie let the silence fill in the gap between Gus''s answer and her next question.


    "What he said about your family- about how they died... was that all true?"


    Gus turned the tap off and wiped his face dry. "Oh. You... heard him."


    "How couldn''t I, he was screaming it to anyone who would listen."


    The subject already being in Susie''s ears made the prospect of just telling her about it seem easier now. But not just yet.


    "Yeah. Yeah, it''s true. And I want to tell you about it. I think it''s important that you know. For you.


    For me. And also because it... has to do with what I was so upset about earlier. But let''s just sit down and watch a little TV first, okay?"


    <hr>


    It was at the end of a short movie that Gus muted the TV and leaned back on the couch.


    "I think... I think I''m ready."


    "Okay." Susie sat and listened.


    "When I was about six years old, my father, he had an accident helping a friend patch up his roof. A nasty wind storm had blown through just a few days earlier, and he needed to keep the snow out of his attic. So, my dad went up there with him, and was tearing out boards when he lost his footing and started rolling down the roof. He couldn''t stop. He fell off- and landed head-first onto a metal fence. One with those spikes to keep people from climbing."


    Susie gasped.


    "He lost his eye, and a part of his brain. He was... different... after that. It''s like all the positive emotions he had took a backseat. It was just rage. And drinking. And whoring. My brother was a baby around this time, but being a helpless infant didn''t stop Pa. Every time he''d come home drunk and screaming, scaring the shit out of me and my mother, he''d hear Caden cry, and he would just go to his crib and shout at him. Slap him around, even. A baby, Susie. My dad beat a fucking baby."


    Gus was choking back tears.


    "It''s easy to play the brain damage angle, but I just don''t care. I can''t care. I endured twelve years of that shit. Dad would come home drunk so often. He would beat the shit out of my mother and then me and Caden. He snapped at us with whips he brought in from the barn, slapped us, punched us, kicked us, held my head underwater so long I thought I was going to drown... One time he shoved Caden''s face through a glass pane, cut him up, gave him a scar on his forehead that never left him. Caden always grew his hair out long on the front after that, so he could cover it up.


    The worst thing is that most nights he''d just go to sleep with us or leave and go to be with one of his mistressess. On especially bad nights, Ma would call the police. But only when he beat her. Didn''t want to get the element of children involved. And every time they come by, they''d ask if she wanted to press charges, and she would say no. They''d throw him in a drunk tank for the night, and the very next morning he was out, back on the hooch, and tormenting every single one of us. I blamed my mother for... a lot. I loved her, but what she did wasn''t right. It''s like a part of her couldn''t choose between him or us, so she tried to find a way to keep all of us. But she could have killed me and Caden. Still. The only good memories I have growing up after dad''s accident involved the time I''d spend with Caden, or with Ma, especially when it was the three of us. But it wasn''t enough. I was SCARED, Susie. I got out as fast as I could. The moment I graduated high school.


    I got married. I don''t know what compelled me to do it. I guess I didn''t want to feel alone, so that''s what I did. I don''t know if I even loved her now that it''s all over. I was loyal to her, sure, but- maybe I was just trying to be what my dad wasn''t. I failed."


    Untold pain twisted Gus''s expression into one of agony. "I was... I was a drunk too. But I never, ever hit her. Don''t mean I wasn''t violent. I got into fights. Some real, real bad. I was... fuckin'' mean. Mean and angry at everything around me. Except my wife." Gus chuckled. "It''s like I was making Pa''s mistakes in reverse."


    Susie was dead quiet, expectantly looking to Gus for him to continue.


    "Caden got married at some point too. To some girl he actually loved and gave a damn about. But she left him. Caden, he- Caden wasn''t a complete coward like I was. Caden knew he had to make something out of this, went to law school, came back a lawyer. But most of all, Caden knew someone had to stick around to protect Ma, so while I moved out and lived in my own damn house, he stuck around on the ranch. But it killed his marriage. Despite being small town he made it decent as a lawyer, but being a lawyer didn''t stop the nightmare from continuing at home. He loved Ma too much to try and get Pa in prison, knew it would break her heart for some damn reason, but his wife, she couldn''t take it. She had to leave. It was far too much for her to constantly be facing the wrath of this depraved bastard of an old man. They didn''t even last two years before she left him. I didn''t blame her...


    ...Pa had these... these dreams. He would ramble about them, drunk or not. The entire valley covered in snow and fog, insane men stopping to talk to him, the ground rumbling, and the mountain, down there..." Gus raised an arm and pointed west. "...splitting in half as some tall man, as he put it, ''spoke to him with his hands''...


    ...one day, about three years ago now, Caden called me, screaming over the phone early in the morning. He said he needed my help. That Dad had finally really lost it, and he was scared for himself and Ma. It was too late by the time I got there. And I tried Susie, groggy as I was, I tried. He had called the police and everything, but I was closer, so I got there first.


    There was so much blood. You could taste it, there was so much. The entire kitchen was just- stained blue. I could only recognize my brother and sister by the clothes on their bodies. Dad had caved their heads in with a frying pan. When I walked in I couldn''t- I couldn''t say anything. How could I? He stood over them. His shoulders heaving with each rough breath. He didn''t look angry. He didn''t look happy. He didn''t even look upset. He just looked- flat. Like nothing mattered anymore.


    And he turned to face me.


    He dropped the frying pan, and pulled out a snub nosed .38. And he just told me ''I spoke with him, Gus. I couldn''t take it no more. So I spoke with him. I''m sorry.''


    And then he put the gun in his mouth, and he fired."


    Through choked down tears, Gus angrily continued. "It was the only time he apologized for fucking anything. ''Hey son, I spoke to the funny little man in my dreams. Killed your brother and your mother. Sorry.''"


    Gus tried to replace his fury and anger with a half-hearted attempt at laughing at his own morbid joke, but instead he descended into deep, hysterical sobs, and he needed a solid minute before he could continue.


    "Everything fell apart after that. My wife, she... screwed around with some prick behind my back because I couldn''t ''perform'' in bed anymore. Like I could after seeing something like that. She divorced me and took me for half my worth, but she let me keep my folks'' ranch and this old shithole." He gestured to the entire house. "But I quit drinking so much, and I... I started trying to live different. I don''t think I really started coming out of that shell til right about a week ago, though. Funny how that works...


    ...but what got me so freaked out today- is that I talked with Asriel today, and he told me he had trouble sleeping because he''s been having the same dream that plagued my father all those years after his accident. And in it he didn''t just meet the man who ''speaks in hands''... he met my father."


    There was a dead silence in the room as Gus finished. The clock had run out of batteries and was no longer ticking. Gus stared off into the flatscreen, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was shaking his head, he didn''t even want to believe what he had just said.


    Susie, in her bewilderment, didn''t say anything. Instead, she scooted closer to Gus, and wrapped her arms around him. Gus reciprocated, and they sat there together in a tight hug for a long while.

 We Hope That You Choke

    Caden looked back up at Gus with the same disappointment after what he said. "I know you got a lot of reason to be angry. But this shit isn''t healthy, Gus."


    "Least I don''t beat my fuckin wife and cheat on her."


    "No." Caden said, before he grilled his older brother. "No, you beat up drunks and kids who spill drinks on you. Sure, you''re turning your anger more outward, but- you''re still hurting people."


    "And what about you?" Gus asked. "You sitting happily in that house, protecting Ma from that fucking psychopath by helping her to live out her delusion and see to it that he never gets his ass thrown in a prison cell?"


    Caden responded accordingly to this attack of his. "Hey. At least I stick around. You ran the fuck away when you had the chance, Gus. You barely see her anymore. Do you know what that does to her? How that hurts her? She always asks about you and I can barely tell her a fuckin'' thing, the way you don''t return my calls, the way you turn me down when I ask you to go to grab a bite to eat with me. When''s the last time you even spoke to her? Four years? Five?" Caden crossed his arms and glowered angrily at his brother.


    "I ran away, sure. I ran away from that fucking nuthouse. I love Ma, Caden. I do. But god I..." Gus seethed, raising his shackled hands into the air and squeezing his fists into a tight ball. "...god... DAMN IT. Do you even remember what she put us through? If she just did something about it and realized how fuckin¡¯ far gone he was, how insane he was- Caden!..." Gus stood up and kicked his chair over. "FUCK!" He screamed.


    Caden stuck his hand out to the one-way mirror, gesturing to the officers who were without a doubt watching intently on the other side.


    "Caden..." Gus said again, the agony in his voice tugging at his little brother. "He beat us with- with fucking HORSE WHIPS. He broke plates over our heads, he broke my arm, shoved your face through glass, tried to drown me, pushed you off a moving ATV, stabbed Ma with a pencil, threw wine glasses at her, broke her fucking hand with a hammer, and god only knows what else that she wouldn''t tell us about... he''s... he''s a fucking demon, Caden. He should have been rotting in prison fucking decades ago or in a fucking mental ward, but Mom wouldn''t let it happen, and now that you''re finally old enough to have a say- Fuck, Caden, you been old enough for more''n thirty damn years now..." Gus ranted and raved, pacing back and forth on his end of the room, the chains of his cuffs rattling. He collapsed into the corner next to the window, huddling up into himself, weeping.


    "Caden... Caden... You''re just- you''re helping this draw itself out. I love Ma. I do, but... this should have ended a long fucking time ago. I know dad can''t help it with that... hole in his head and that... hap-hazard scrap metal covering it up, but I just don''t care. You know as much as I do Dad needed to go to an institution but Ma was too stuck loving the man she lost to accept he was gone fer good... and after all he did to us, you''re helping her out by letting her live this... fantasy. It killed your marriage, Caden. You loved that woman. And she loved you."


    Caden didn''t have anything to say about the sore subject that was his brief marriage, it was a delicate topic to him, and in any other circumstance, he''d have been angry about it being brought up, but Gus had a reason to.


    "I don''t... I don''t know what I''m doing, Gus." Caden said outright. "I don''t know why I''m doing it, but I know it''s almost over. His last doctor''s visit didn''t look too good. Said any day now there was gonna be something... a massive stroke, maybe a seizure, something no amount of medical attention would fix. That... That injury it''s finally catching up with him. After fifty years."


    Caden looked wistfully out into the snowfall. "They didn''t even think he''d be around for another ten..."


    "He''s weak, Gus." Caden said. "There''s no strength left in him."


    "Good." Gus said, his head buried into his arms in his corner, a man entering his late 40s crying like a child. "When he''s dead and buried, getting eaten by worms like he deserves, then he''ll really be at his weakest. That¡¯s when I''ll come by to visit you two. Only then."


    Caden stood up. "I look forward to it."


    He shuffled awkwardly toward the door. Not shifting his gaze from Gus for a second.


    "I love you, Gus" he said, choking up. "Please take care of yourself. And stay out of trouble."


    Caden walked out, and left Gus to sit alone in the corner.


    The very next morning, their father would defy all expectations, and show everyone just how much of his terrible strength was really left in him.


    <hr>


    Loud thumping coming from downstairs woke Gus up. He didn''t think twice. The dream had put him on edge, and he grabbed his shotgun before charging down the stairs and bursting through the front door. He was almost blinded when he did. It was snowing. Sticking, too. About an inch on the ground.


    "Hey." He heard to his left.


    It was Susie, sitting in Gus''s rocking chair on the front porch with her guitar. She had picked clothes similar to what she wore yesterday, but she was bundled up warmer for the snow. She looked down at Gus''s legs.


    "Heart boxers, dude?" She smirked. "Really?"


    Gus lowered the shotgun and rested it inside the front door.


    "Well. I''ll be damned." He put his hands on his hips. "A bit early for this kind of weather, isn''t it?" He asked.


    "Forecast didn''t say anything." Susie said. "But they''ll cancel everything at school today."


    "Really?" Gus asked.


    "Yeah. It''s sort of like a tradition that they started about four years back. First snow is a day off. Always. Pretty sweet, huh?"


    "Well, I guess it is. I''m surprised to find you out here, considering how terrible with the cold you are."


    "Hah!" Susie laughed. "Don''t be, old fart. I shiver a lot, sure. But I love snow."


    "Yeah... me too..."


    "Can we go to the Dreemurr place?" Susie asked. "I''m sure Kris and Asriel have some idea of what to do today."


    "Eh... no-can-do for me. I''ll drop you off, Susie, but I need to work on the cabinets."


    She pouted. "Seriously, dude? Come on..."


    "Susie, you do realize that these cabinets are the very reason I met Toriel, right? It¡¯d be awfully rude to just avoid doing the work she¡¯s paying me to do."


    "You sure you wanna be alone today? You kind of had a panic attack yesterday. Well, you had like three..."


    "Yeah. I''m sure I''ll be fine. Just have Tori call me when you want me to come get you, okay?"


    Susie cocked her head. "Yeah, okay."


    <hr>


    And there it was. The horrible metal screech of his door in the quiet of the first snowfall. Even Susie griped about that awful noise. Gus was bundled up along with her. He had cranked the truck up before they even got in so that the heat could do its work and make their ride warm the whole way. As he buckled his seatbelt, he heard his phone ring. When he took it out of his pocket, he was surprised to see it was Toriel.


    "Tori? Was just about to come down there to drop Susie off, how are you?"


    "Gus."


    There was a tone to her voice that caught Gus¡¯s attention right away. He could only seem to picture her with a deep-set pallor after she said his name just now, a pallor whiter even than her fur.


    "Gus, I can''t find Asriel!" She was hysterical.


    "He''s not HERE, Gus. I''ve looked everywhere, under every bed, in every room, behind the house, in the woods nearby, I even called Asgore. He doesn''t know either! Gus, there are- these awful scratches on the wall on his side of the room. Scratches in the shape of hands with eyes on the palms. It looks demonic, Gus! Kris keeps saying something about Mount Ebott. Asriel kept telling him about Mount Ebott last night. It was like he was in a trance, Gus please! Please, I need you to check the road outside of town. He can''t have gone far!"


    "Where''s mom''s car?" Susie muttered to herself, looking across the street. "It was just there, like a minute ago."


    "I''ll go lookin, Tori. Don''t worry. I''ll find your boy."


    "Thank you." Toriel said tearfully. Gus hung up.


    This can''t be happening. This cannot be happening.


    "Gus, what''s going on, what''s wrong?" Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "Asriel''s gone missing. Toriel can''t find him. Asgore doesn''t even know where he is. She thinks he might be on the road to Ebottfield. We''ve gotta start close to town, and if we don''t see him, we come back."


    "Oh shit..." Susie remarked, her tone low and serious.


    Gus steadily lowered his foot on the gas and he began to roll down the hill. But when he put his foot on the brake to slow down so he could look both ways, he found that he had no brakes.


    "What the..." They rolled out into the middle of the road.


    "What''s wrong?" Susie asked.


    "We''ve got- we''ve got no brak-"


    The sound of screeching metal and shattering glass thundered through Gus''s eardrums. He felt like he was being slung around by a giant. The entire car was spinning, and then he felt as if he was floating, every organ in his body trying desperately to find its right place in zero gravity. The thundering crash that pounded through his ears when they stopped floating deafened him. They had landed hard, and were suspended upside down. Skidding, skidding, until they finally came to a stop. His ears were ringing, and his back was sore. He looked over to Susie. She wasn''t moving. Out cold.


    Gus fumbled for his seatbelt and loosened it, bracing the best he could to be dropped on the now inverted ceiling of his truck cabin. He banged his head and grumbled.


    "God... fuck..."


    He crawled on his hands and knees to Susie, unbuckling her and lowering her to the ceiling.


    "Susie?" He said, shaking her. "Susie, come on. Wake up, girl." No answer.


    "Susie. Susie please, god. God, answer me. Susie come on!" He felt like he was about to have a panic attack.


    "Steal my fuckin'' daughter, eh?" he heard.


    He looked up to see the end of a 4x4 mere inches away, which was promptly shoved into his forehead with the force of a hard punch. It sent him reeling, and his vision blurred. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Susie being dragged away.


    <hr>


    Every muscle in his body ached. He could barely remember where he was until the image of Susie''s unconscious body being dragged away cut through his mind, and he began frantically crawling out of the broken window of his inverted truck. His head was throbbing, and it took him a few tries to stand steady.


    He walked a few paces so he could look back and take in the scene. Susie''s guitar had apparently flown right by his head without even touching him in the crash, because it was shattered in a million pieces right outside the driver''s door. The rustbucket that belonged to Susie''s mom was about thirty feet down the road toward town, and it was just... totaled. She had rammed into the side of the bed of his truck and caused him to go into spinout, ending in an inversion, totalling his truck as well.


    He wiped his forehead. He was cut, and bleeding. More than a little, but not enough that he cared. He looked at the underbelly of his truck, the brake line had been cut. The fucking psycho bitch had planned this. That was where her car was. Down the road, waiting for him to pull out so she could pull this shit.


    Gus wasted no time marching toward his house to grab his shotgun. But stopped in his tracks when he saw smoke billowing from its windows. The workshop too. She had set everything on fire.


    "Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god!"


    But there was no way he was going to waste his time trying to hopelessly save his house. He needed to find Susie, and he needed to find her right now.


    Gus didn''t waste time trying to open the door normally. He knew the handle would be red hot, so instead with one mighty kick he bashed it in and grabbed his shotgun by the stock before the flames could lick it. He immediately threw it into the snow to cool it off and scrambled down the porch to grab it, the metal still hissing. He checked to make sure it was loaded and he was relieved to find that it was.


    "Okay... okay..."


    Gus heard a shrill scream across the street. It pierced the silent snowy air.


    "SUSIE!!!" He hollered after it.


    He began running down the hill and across the street, the sounds of struggle in the house banged and popped, screams and shouts echoed, muffled by the walls until he was halfway across Susie''s yard, and her front door flew open. It was Susie. Just Susie.


    She fell onto the porch, and she was covered from head to toe in bruises. Gus ran up and picked her up. Her snout was misshapen, runny snot dribbled from her nostrils uncontrollably, and her right eye was swollen shut.


    She didn¡¯t have her jacket. Instead she only stood there in her dirty white tee, stained with sweat. Her scales were covered in cuts.


    She was crying.


    ¡°Oh my god¡­¡± was all that Gus could say.


    He set his shotgun aside and took Susie into a tight hug, staring back at her front door with abject terror. He backed away down the steps with her in his arms, holding her steady. He held her close to his chest and she began weeping.


    ¡°Oh my god¡­¡± he said again. ¡°What happened, baby what happened oh my god, oh my god, oh my god¡­¡± Gus was beginning to break down, his head felt light, and he couldn''t stop repeating the words. ¡°Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god¡­¡±


    ¡°Mom¡­ that- f-fucking BITCH..." her face contorted into a facade of anger. "The cunt she-she-she... she shouted at me, telling m-me I was s-sleeping around! With you, with Kris, w-with Asriel... Sh-sh-sh-she called me a fucking- a wh-wh-whore. She beat me, cut me up. An-an-an-and then the psycho bitch tried to stick her curling iron up my...¡±


    Gus¡¯s face dropped.


    He noticed Susie stood strangely, her thighs spread awkwardly so that they didn''t rub up against each other.


    Susie collapsed into her hands and whimpered. ¡°...it r-r-r-really hurts... I had to... push her away and she... she hit her head and...¡± Susie burst out into a staccato of deep sobs, her shoulders lurching with each hiccupping motion.


    Gus steadily broke away from his hug and gently lowered Susie to the ground, draping his gargantuan jacket over her.


    He handed her his phone and simply said ¡°Call Toriel. Call Asgore. And then call the police.¡±


    She looked up at his looming figure, not understanding the gravity of what he was about to do. Before she could ask, Gus wrapped his arms around her and took her into the biggest, most fatherly bear hug he could muster, pulling her tight for what could be the last hug he would ever give her.


    ¡°Close your eyes, cover your ears, and remember to breathe. There are people who love you. There are people who love you so much, Susie. There are people who love you so much you have no idea what lengths they¡¯d go to so they could do right by you. You have friends, Susie. You have family. Not this bitch, she''s not your family. You have a family and they have you. You can never forget that. You are loved. You are worth loving. I love you, kid. I. Love. You.¡± he whispered into her ear.


    He let go of her and picked up his shotgun.


    She was staring up at him.


    ¡°Please.¡± he said.


    She turned away and covered her ears. Gus started marching toward the house. The way his broad, sloping shoulders eclipsed everything in front of him, the way his head hung, the fury and anger in each step, shotgun in hand. In this moment he really, truly, looked demonic and deranged.


    At long last, it had overboiled. All these years. All these long, long years. Day after day of living with this feeling and he was done. He was fucking done. He thought of all the times he was beaten, whipped, cut, tortured in indescribable ways by his shit of a father, he remembered that day he finally left the ranch, the way his father drunkenly screamed after him to never come back, to just go away and die. He remembered how his mother sat aside and did nothing while she was also subject to these things, and he remembered how his brother had just fueled her delusions and helped her keep the insanity going. But most of all he remembered that day three years ago when it all finally came to a head, walking into the kitchen, his mother and brother lying limp on the ground, their skulls caved in with a cast iron skillet, his father cowering out of facing the consequences and draining his own brain out of his head with a .38 shoved into his mouth. He remembered how his wife had the nerve to screw some prick behind his back and leave him while he was reeling from the grief, taking him for half his worth. All the times he should have lost it, snapped, put his fucking foot down. No more should-haves. No more misplaced bouts of rage. This was over.


    Life is not short. Whoever peddled that bullshit was full of it, and he can stick it. Life is long. Impossibly, impossibly long. And you¡¯ve got to sit there and fucking live with what you did or didn¡¯t do. You¡¯ve got to deal with it for years. You can either look back and regret it, or you can not. There is no inbetween to this. There are times to sit idle, and there are times to act. And right now, something needs to be done.


    <hr>


    The house was filthy. Cigarette butts littered the floor and the entire place smelled of cheap booze and menthols. The ceiling was low and covered in cobwebs, every wall was stained. Odd things crunched beneath Gus''s boots and he was certain that some of it was glass. It was just too dark to see anything other than the few bright bits of trash and the cigarette butts. The thought crossed his mind that this was what Susie had endured all those years.


    He emptied out of the hallway into a small, open room. Around this part of the house, Gus realized that there was no heating or air, and it was absolutely frigid in here. An old oil lantern sat in a corner, creating a pitiful amount of light compared to the bright reflection of the snow leaking in through the windows, but it wouldn''t surprise Gus if it was all that they had at night. Susie''s house was never very bright at the end of the day. That wasn''t to say there was no electricity, though. An old, broken TV was on, a huge crack in the thick glass, it had been broken in the struggle between Susie and her mother. Gus could hear the voices of talk show hosts emitting from it, though he couldn''t see it. Susie''s mother was stood in the middle of the room, rubbing the back of her head and staring at the TV, muttering and cursing to herself. She was completely unaware of Gus.


    But Gus didn''t much like the idea of killing someone who didn''t take the chance to try and defend themselves. So against his better judgement, and perhaps even in his idiocy and what pride remained in him, he called out to her.


    "Hey."


    She turned back to face him, slowly. There was a kitchen knife in her hand.


    "I think you know what I''m here for."


    Susie''s mother laughed. "Alright."


    She charged him with the knife, no regard for her life like she had when she confronted him two days ago. What was the point? She''d spend the rest of her life behind bars almost certainly if she didn''t die here. She got a good deep poke into his gut before Gus could even think about pulling the trigger. He yelped. God, it burned. It burned right through him. He had to think fast or the next one would be in his chest, maybe even his neck.


    Gus pushed her away, and she took the knife with her, the weapon locked in her iron grip. Blue blood came oozing out from his stomach. As she stood back, regaining her balance from the push, Gus readied himself. She ran toward him again, and he caught her off guard by pumping the shotgun and ejecting the round he had chambered, instead opting to smack her in the snout with the stock of the gun for this close-quarters encounter. It sent her back, making her lose her balance, and she spinned around, falling down back into the room stomach-first. When she landed, a hollow shriek escaped from her mouth.


    She knocked over the oil lamp with one of her arms and it shattered, flaming oil spilling onto her floor. She desperately rolled away from it, and faced up at the ceiling. A hollow noise escaped from her lips and Gus saw that she had accidentally stabbed herself in the chest when she fell. Gus released the tension in his muscles and lowered his gun. He looked at her miserable situation. Mortally wounded in a burning house. In such pain and shock that she was unable to move or speak.


    Gus scoffed. He didn''t say anything. He just took a knee to pick up the shell he''d pumped out and put it in his pocket, grunting in pain as the fresh wound in his stomach stretched with the motion. He watched the curtains catch fire as Susie''s mom hopelessly tried to catch her breath a few times, but she couldn''t. The way the knife went in it was likely she had severely ruptured some part of her heart and collapsed a lung. She went unconscious from the shock within seconds. Even if there was no fire, there was no way she''d survive that.


    As suddenly as it had started, it ended. Gus huffed in disbelief as he made his way back for the front door, remembering that sometimes, things just work out that way.

 When the Night Grows Long

    When he got out, it was no longer snowing, about two inches stood on the ground. Fog hung in the air. Gus picked Susie up off of the ground and helped her steady herself. She noted the blue stain on his stomach.


    "Gus. Oh my god. Did she get you?"


    "Yeah." He said, pained, taking the injury in stride. "Don''t worry about it."


    "How can I not, Gus? She stabbed you! She fucking stabbed you! You need a doctor, you need-"


    "There isn''t one here right now. I''ll just have to wait."


    Susie fell quiet.


    "Did you make those calls?" Gus asked her.


    Susie nodded. "Th-they''ll be here soon."


    "Good, good. We need to move. Your mother''s not a problem anymore but she set the house on fire..."


    "Just how she did yours, huh?" Susie asked. "Good. She deserves it."


    Gus wheezed.


    "She''s dead, isn''t she?" Susie sniffed. "I won''t ask how. It doesn''t matter to me. It really, really doesn''t."


    "Then I won''t tell." Gus said. "Let''s just... let''s sit and wait."


    Susie and Gus sat down next to the road, waiting.


    And out of nowhere, the fog cleared up. Within seconds. And all was silent. No wind, no leaves. Only the crackling of the fires burning away at their homes.


    The earth began to rumble. Softly at first, but within seconds it intensified. Susie looked around fearfully, and hugged Gus tight. The shaking was so violent that what birds were around to stick on the trees immediately left, cawing, tweeting, and cooing into the morning as they flew away. A bit of the snow that stuck to the branches flaked off, and Gus watched helplessly as his flaming home caved in on itself, no longer able to support its own weight. The shaking got so severe that it upset his fresh wound like a bumpy car ride would. The pain tore through his stomach, and it nearly made him scream in agony, but he composed himself, and held on tight.


    The shaking subsided.


    The sound still echoed around and grew farther and farther away. Gus realized it was moving west. Like a genuine ripple in the earth. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Knowingly, Gus turned his gaze toward Mount Ebott. The towering behemoth to the West, the father of the valley itself. He breathed deep, in anticipation for what he was certain would come next. And he heard the sound of stones smashing in the distance. He began to chuckle.


    "I think Pa was right about something."


    And then it happened. Right down the middle. Mount Ebott cracked in half. Like a walnut. There had to be an unimaginable amount of force in that split. And it registered when the shockwave hit them. An enormous crack, like a clap of thunder happening right outside your window. A mix of sprat, dirt, dust, and snow was kicked up, the trees themselves bent at unnatural angles, every flake of snow blowing off.


    From betwixt the two halves of Mount Ebott an impossibly black geyser shot with such force that the speed it moved with was nothing short of impossible. If you blinked you would have missed it transforming into clouds that enveloped the landscape. Suddenly everything changed around him. What ground was not still covered in snow was pitch black, the grass burgundy, the bark of the trees emitted light, and shadows ceased to be. He no longer felt cold. He looked down and his entire outfit had changed. Whatever strange force was at work had a better fashion sense than he did, that was for certain.


    Susie had changed too. Suddenly she had an axe in her right hand. Without questioning anything, she opened her left and she was enveloped by a green light, all of her wounds closed up, and she no longer seemed hurt in any way. She directed the same green light toward Gus and he felt a gentle warmth. His wound closed, and he was in perfect spirits.


    Squeezing at the hole in his stomach to find it was no longer a hole, he huffed and managed a weak laugh. One raspy, defiant, awestruck "huh..."


    "Okay..." he grinned. A genuine smile. His shotgun had completely transformed into something much more interesting and foreign, indescribable, but it felt right in his hands. He gripped it tightly and stood to his feet.


    In the distance Mount Ebott still loomed. No longer was it covered in snow, but shrouded in darkness. The geyser still spat into the sky, there was no end to it.


    "I think I know where Asriel is." Gus said. He turned to Susie. "You think they''ll catch up with us?"


    "For sure" she said. "For sure..."


    "I think we''d better get moving then."


    "Let''s fuck some shit up, old man." Susie said.


    "Let''s fuck some shit up." Gus agreed.


    In the distance Gus swore he could hear bones clacking. And he thought back to what Sans had told him when last they met. ''When the night grows long.''


    He chuckled to himself, and turned to Susie. "Life sure did get interesting when I met you" Gus mused.


    They began marching down the road, like two champions toward their greatest challenge. Gus was positively beaming.


    Even though he was in terrible pain just moments before, even though he was impossibly out of his depth with no hope of understanding anything going on around him just yet, knee deep in a confusion so impossibly profound that it should have sent him spiraling into madness, Gus couldn''t help but realize something incredible instead:


    For the first time in his life, he finally felt like he was really living.


    And he smiled. He smiled the brightest, widest smile he could manage.