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"Here are the rules," you say.
The four of you are standing in a circle, each with your fingers—and in Monster Kid's case, their tail—on the triggers of your weapons. You'd been worried about Kid's ability to handle a gun, but apparently their tail was far more dexterous than you'd thought, and so you hadn't had to look for a substitute. You guess it wouldn't have been fair to pit a rubber knife against your arsenal, anyway.
"We each have a gun," you say.
You watch the others carefully as you speak. Asriel looks terrified. Frisk looks stoic. Kid looks like they were born ready for war.
"And we each have a flag."
The flags are actually scraps of ribbon taken from your fabric bag. Your red one is tied around your wrist, Frisk has their blue one in their hair, Asriel has his green one in his pocket, and Kid has their yellow one tied around their tail.
"The object of the game is to collect all four flags. If you get shot, you're dead and have to let whoever killed you take your flag. Got it?"
"I think so," Asriel says. "But is any of this really necessary? It seems kind of...excessive."
"Of course it's necessary," you snap. "Can you think of a better way to determine who deserves the last piece most?"
There are probably a million better ways, actually, but you know that Asriel won't argue if you sound annoyed. Sure enough, he raises no further protests. Meanwhile, Frisk remains impassive and Kid just looks excited.
You glance up at the clock hanging on the wall. Almost two.
"Five minutes," you declare. "If we all start in the same place, either nobody's gonna shoot or we're all gonna shoot and then the game will only last a couple seconds. That's boring, so we gotta split up and hunt each other down. We'll start at two. Until then, go wherever you want."
Frisk nods.
Asriel whimpers.
"This is so cool," Kid breathes, starry-eyed.
For a moment, all of you are still, eyes fixed on one another, as though each of you are daring anybody else to be the one to make the first move.
Finally, you break the silence.
"Go."
The four of you scatter.
The pie Toriel had baked the other day had lasted far longer than sweets usually do around you, but then suddenly, there had only been one piece left. Asriel kept insisting it was his, and you kept insisting it was yours, and then Frisk invited Kid over for the afternoon only for them to insist that the guest should have it. Clearly this was one problem violence was definitely the answer to, and if ever there was going to be an opportunity for you to shoot your best friends in the face, this was it. You weren't about to let a chance like this slip through your fingers.
You duck into the kitchen first, giving the others time to get into position. You can't speak for Kid or Frisk, but you already know that Asriel will have headed straight for his bedroom. You'll be able to catch him alone there; you just need to give him time to make it.
Poor Asriel had looked terrified, you think with a smirk. If you offer to protect him, he'll definitely accept, and then you'll have one less enemy to worry about. You'll take him out last. Meanwhile, Kid's clumsy as hell; they won't be a threat. All you have to do is wait for them to trip and you'll be able to steal their flag, easy-peasy. Frisk is the only one you might actually have to worry about, but only because they're quick. They hate fighting, so they'll probably try to get you to waste all of your bullets and give up instead of shooting you directly. That's where having Asriel (and Asriel's gun) with you will come in handy. You'll be less likely to run out before you hit them if you have extra ammo.
That pie is as good as yours.
You don't bother trying to be sneaky as you run upstairs. You still have another minute on the clock before the battle begins for real. You just need to corner Asriel, somewhere where the others won't be around to listen and turn him against you with unnecessary warnings.
You kick open the bedroom door and Asriel yelps. Just as you'd expected, he's sitting in the corner, cradling his plastic gun against his chest and looking terrified.
You swing your arm forward, pointing as dramatically as possible, and say, "I propose an alliance!"
"An alliance?" Asriel asks, voice quavering. "Does that mean you're not going to shoot me?"
"Don't be silly. I could never shoot you," you lie.
Asriel's eyes light up, stupidly hopeful, and he asks, "What do you mean by an alliance?"
"We'll be partners," you explain. "You watch my back and I'll watch yours. We can even share the pie afterwards. I'd rather have the whole piece to myself, but I can't do this alone, and halves are better than quarters." Quarters, you think with disgust. The most despicable fraction of all.
Asriel rises to his feet and stumbles towards you, babbling some nonsense about golly Chara you're so nice and I knew I could count on you! You briefly consider shooting him then and there and taking his flag immediately, but having him to watch your back—maybe even serving as a living shield should the need arise—would admittedly be an asset. Besides, he'd probably start crying if you did and you can't deal with that in the middle of a battlefield.
"Stay behind me," you command, cocking your gun. "We need to find the others."
Asriel nods.
You pull open the door a crack, peering out into the hallway. Nobody in sight. "Coast is clear. Let's go."
Asriel sticks embarrassingly close to you as you creep down the hallway together, clinging to your sweater the entire time. "Let go," you hiss as you shake him off for the nineteenth time in a row. "I need to be able to move freely."
"Sorry," he whispers, sounding apologetic. "This is just...kind of scary. They could be anywhere, waiting to jump out at us."
"Don't be a baby. I'll keep you safe." Gotta play to his ego. "And you'll keep me safe too, right?"
You sneak a glance behind you. Asriel is nodding. "Yeah!" he agrees, expression fierce.
But he still grabs your arm again a moment later, and you sigh as you shrug him off yet again.
It goes without saying that Toriel's room is off limits, but you still check your bedroom, as well as Frisk's room and the bathroom. You check under all the beds and in all the drawers and closets, but your search turns up nothing, and finally you say, "Nobody here. They must still be on the first floor."
You grab a pillow from your bed before you leave. Asriel shoots you a curious look, but you ignore it, cracking open the door once more. The hallway is still empty, and so you head directly for the staircase.
You stop before turning the corner, holding out your pillow. An orange dart comes flying out of nowhere, missing the pillow entirely and hitting the wall behind it instead. The dart falls to the floor, and from somewhere down below, a tiny voice says, "Oops."
"Get them!" you shout. Asriel nods and the two of you go barreling downstairs, Asriel bellowing what you think might be his war cry, but when you reach the bottom, Kid is nowhere to be seen. You curse.
"Chara!" Asriel hisses. "You're not supposed to say that word!"
"Nobody cares!" you snap. "Now c'mon, to the living room. Before we lose them!"
You grab his wrist and take off running, staying clear of the kitchen just in case. Too many cupboards Kid or Frisk could be hiding in. You'll probably have to check them eventually, but you're not about to let yourself get ambushed before you can properly strategize.
You and Asriel end up crouched between the sofa and the wall, panting. Still no one in sight. And with Asriel watching your back, you doubt you could have missed them if they'd tried to slip behind you.
"They're either hiding in the kitchen or the basement," you declare. "We would've seen them go upstairs, and if they're not here, there's nowhere else for them to be."
"Kitchen first," Asriel says. "If we check the basement and it turns out they were hiding somewhere else, we'll be cornered."
You shoot him a glance. His expression is one of intense concentration, no sign of the hesitation from before.
"Yeah," you say with a grin. "Good plan. I'll go first, okay? Stay hidden until I signal you."
Asriel nods, and you stand, peering over the couch. Your path is clear, and so you dart through the living room, weapon raised just in case.
When you reach the the entrance to the kitchen, you pause to catch your breath. You must be in worse shape than you thought if you're already getting wheezy. You're not sure how much longer you can run around like this, especially if you're going after somebody as fast as Frisk. You'll have to end this soon.
Fate must have a funny sense of humour, because almost the exact same moment that you think that, you hear the back door come crashing open, followed by a cry of "Chara!" and a loud thud.
You whirl around. There stands Frisk before the open door, hair blowing in the wind, a toy gun in each hand while Kid sits on a struggling Asriel's back. Each of them are wearing half-made flower crowns.
"Ambush successful!" Kid crows. Their tail curls around Asriel's gun, yanking it out of his hands and tossing it across the room where it knocks a picture off the wall.
"You cheaters!" you shriek. "You went outside? You can't go outside!"
Frisk shrugs, and Kid says, "Wasn't in the rules, dude!"
"I thought it was obvious!”
"Get off me!" Asriel whines, arms flailing behind him as he tries to push Kid off.
"Prisoner of war! Prisoner of war!" Kid chants, thumping their heels rhythmically against the ground.
"I see the two of you had the same brilliant idea to form an alliance that I had," you say, shooting a glare at Frisk.
Their expression remains impassive, but Kid replies, "Heck yeah we did!" Their beribboned tail wags back and forth excitedly. "I was having trouble with my gun, and Frisk was all I don't wanna fight, dude, so we decided to team up and take you dooooown!"
Frisk nods.
"What exactly do you want?" you demand. You don't lower your gun; you won't give them so much as an inch to work with, not if you can help it.
"We're staging a coup! No more monster monarchy, whoo!"
"What?" Asriel cries.
Frisk shakes their head.
"Oh, and we wanna share the pie. Like, it's cool if we each only get a little bit, right? If everybody gets some?"
"Over my dead body," you hiss.
Wordlessly, Frisk aims one of their guns at Asriel. They quirk their eyebrows, as if to ask, over his?
You snort. "Go ahead. It's just a toy. It's not like that'll actually hurt him, especially if you're the one firing."
"Chara!"
"Asriel, relax, I'm calling their bluff. They don't wanna shoot you."
"No, Chara, I got it!"
You finally break eye contact with Frisk, eyes flickering towards Asriel instead. His arms are stretched behind him, and as you watch, he grabs onto Kid's waving tail and tears off the ribbon.
"Aw, seriously?" Kid pouts. "Dude, weak."
"You're out!" you cry, face splitting into an enormous grin. "He got your flag, even though you didn't get shot! Good job, Asriel!"
Kid slides off Asriel's back, mumbling darkly to themselves before falling flat on their face. They don't move, apparently content to lie there on the floor, and Asriel scrambles to his feet, eyes bright as he clenches the yellow ribbon and grins at you.
For that moment, Frisk's eyes are on Asriel and Kid, expression one of quiet amusement. They're not on you.
You don't hesitate to pull the trigger. But even though Frisk hadn't been looking at you, they immediately dodge to the left, as though acting on pure instinct alone. The bullet goes flying out the open door.
"Are you seriously pulling that bullshit here," you demand, voice flat. Frisk finally cracks a smile, shrugging as if to say, what're you gonna do about it?
You shoot and you shoot and you shoot, but you're not fast enough for Frisk. You shoot and they fall to their knees. You shoot and they jump to their feet. You shoot and they spring to the right. And the worst part is, they're not even shooting back. They're just dodging, waiting for you to give up.
You grit your teeth. Only seconds into this confrontation and you already only have one dart left. You'd been expecting this; it was why you'd wanted Asriel's gun on your side. But you have no way of getting it from where Kid had thrown it without leaving yourself vulnerable, and though you doubt that Frisk would shoot you in the back, you're not about to risk it, not when Toriel's pie is on the line.
If you were anybody else, you'd have given up by now. But you still have one shot left, and you think you might know how to make it count.
You lower your gun. For a split-second, Frisk's expression turns hopeful, but that look of hope quickly gives way to horror when they realize that you aren't surrendering—merely changing targets.
With your gun aimed at Kid, who's still lying face-down in a feeble imitation of a corpse, you pull the trigger. And Frisk—foolishly compassionate Frisk—instantly leaps forward to take the bullet.
In your head, it happens in slow motion. In reality, the dart hits Frisk on the cheek and sends them crashing to the floor in a matter of seconds. Still, when you remember it later, you'll do so in slow motion, possibly in black-and-white and with dramatic violins.
"Ha!" you shout as Frisk pulls themselves back upright, undoing their ribbon with a scowl. "I got you! I got you!"
They don't roll their eyes, but the way they purse their lips when handing Asriel their ribbon makes it pretty obvious they're thinking it, if an eyeroll is even something one can think. It probably is.
Asriel takes the flag, and you approach him with a smile, holding out your hand to take it from him. "Nice work," you say. "Especially stealing Kid's flag when you were captured. That was downright sneaky. I didn't think you had it in you."
But Asriel doesn't give you the flag.
Instead, his fingers close around it, and suddenly, you find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.
Your freeze. Slowly, you retract your outstretched hand.
"What are you doing?" you demand.
And Asriel sighs, shaking his head in an attitude of exaggerated disappointment.
"Did you really think I trusted you?" he asks.
Kid gasps, loudly and dramatically. Frisk covers their mouth with their hands. "Plot twist," Kid stage-whispers. Frisk nods.
"I have all the flags," Asriel continues, mouth slowly curling into a smirk. "All I need is yours. Won't you give it to me?"
You raise your gun.
"Never," you hiss.
You pull the trigger with a click, but nothing come out. Too late, you remember all your darts are laying on the floor.
"Tch," Asriel says. And, like, that isn't even an exaggeration, he actually does the anime villain tch thing like the dweeb he is, and you're torn between the desire to commend him and to lose your shit completely. "Did you already forget you're out of ammo? I expected better from you, Chara."
Eyes narrowing, you drop your gun. It falls to the floor with a clatter.
"You should have just agreed to cooperate," Asriel says. "I might have shown you mercy if you had."
"You know better than to expect me to beg," you retort.
"Ask him why he's doing this!" Kid shouts from the sidelines. "People always ask the villain why they're doing this on TV!"
Frisk is eating popcorn. You don't know where they got it from.
"They don't need to ask, I'll tell them." Asriel snaps, smile falling. His eyes never leave your face. His gun never wavers. His grip is shockingly steady, actually, and under different circumstances, you might have praised him. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I got to have the last of anything with Chara in the house?!"
Frisk holds up all ten of their fingers.
"Fifty seven years," Kid guesses.
"Probably a while," you admit.
"Too long," Asriel snarls. "Chara, you may be my best friend, but there are some things I can't forgive, even from you, and one of those things is never letting me have my fair share of dessert."
You have no weapon. Your one ally betrayed you. Your situation is hopeless. Still, you have your pride. You won't falter, even in your final moments.
"Go ahead and shoot," you command.
Once again, Asriel smirks.
"Too bad," he says. "You really were my best friend."
His finger on the trigger.
"Goodbye, Chara."
He fires. The bullet hits you on the chest, and you fall.
Actually, you stagger around for a bit, clutching your heart and wailing things like nooo and why, Asriel, why?! and the blood, it's everywhere, oh god. But you do, in fact, eventually fall. It's not as graceful as you'd like, because you're a little out-of-practice when it comes to dying, but it's not like anybody's going to complain, not when you're putting in so much effort to give them a good show.
When you finally fall for real, Asriel kneels beside you, untying the ribbon from your wrist. Once he has it, he rises to his feet. He is the only one left standing, all four ribbons clutched in his tiny goat-fist—the victor.
All is silent, save for his ragged breathing and the sound of Frisk eating their popcorn.
"I GET THE PIE," Asriel shouts, and then he takes off running.
"NO YOU DON'T IT'S MINE," you shout back, abruptly springing back to life and grabbing his leg.
Asriel falls about as gracefully as you had, knocking over two chairs in the process, and then the two of you are wrestling, cheered on by an overstimulated Kid. Meanwhile, Frisk carefully steps over the two of you and heads towards the fridge.
"FRISK IS GONNA STEAL IT," you scream, and with a wail, Asriel releases you so that the two of you can scramble upright and run to cut them off.
But as it turns out, Frisk isn't actually in the process of stealing the pie. Instead, they're standing before the open fridge, staring wordlessly inside of it.
You stop short behind them, leaning forward to peer over their shoulder.
There, inside the fridge, is a small white dog lying on the crumb-strewn platter where the last of the pie had been.
"Arf," says the dog.
You stare.
Frisk stares.
Behind you, Asriel is also staring.
From the doorway, Kid asks, "What's up? Is the pie okay?"
You sink slowly to your knees, stretching out on the floor.
Being a corpse again is bound to be a thousand times better than this bullshit.
Asriel immediately joins you.
Frisk follows him soon after.
"Are we having naps now?" Kid asks. "That's cool."
And then, Kid joins you as well.
When Toriel returns an hour later, she finds four small children and a dog sleeping on the kitchen floor.
She sighs and shakes her head before moving into the living room, where she begins to gather up the toy guns and foam bullets strewn about the floor. Privately, she wonders if it would be too much for her to use those darts to wake them up. But for now, she will let them rest.