Chapter Text
"Frisk...", Chara intoned quietly as she placed her fan beneath Frisk's chin, straightening his head out. Why she did this was anyone's guess, as she now had to look up at him, being an inch shorter and only two away. Perhaps it was because it also meant Frisk had to move his eyes down to look at her. Or rather glare, as he was doing now.
"Your majesty.", Frisk replied, failing to hide the contempt in his voice. Chara smirked, meeting his gaze directly, swallowing him in her scarlet irises.
"I'd very much like to know what you think of me.", she burbled. Frisk's gaze narrowed and he said something he'd been wanting to say since he laid eyes on her.
"You're dangerously insane and need mental care, princess."
She let out a bell-like giggle. It wouldn't be nearly as jarring if it weren't for the fact he'd heard her emit ear-shattering mad cackles. He almost didn't believe this was the same woman who'd killed ten people so far. Almost.
-+-
One Week Earlier
The scene was straight out of a horror show. The corpses were facedown on the ground, lying in a huge pool of the three -now deceased- different people's blood. Standing over them was a feminine figure. Their hands, which held two sharp butcher knives, were thoroughly stained with blood that dripped down their weapons, and their back was to Frisk as he compulsively continued to survey the room, slightly less petrified than last time. And the time before that. The figure turned around, as they always did, their face, clothes, and hair saturated in blood.
The first time, they'd looked at him with glazed eyes and an almost neutral expression. The second time, they'd looked confident, like they had a better sense of purpose in these weekly gore fests. Now, they were smiling. He expected them to lunge at him before escaping. They always managed to escape. Instead they began to laugh. It was a delirious, mirthful sound that murdered his eardrums and shattered his soul.
"My, my, my...", they... she spoke, "You just have the world's best timing, don't you, my dear detective? Three times now! Are you sure you even want to continue the investigation?"
"... Why? Why are you..."
Her smile widened.
"Love."
She dissolved into a series of mad giggles. Frisk was so caught up in his fear that he didn't notice she was getting closer and closer. She was about three feet away from him when she stopped abruptly and put on a slightly less deranged grin. Only slightly.
"You know," she crooned, "you have lovely eyes."
He tasted blood as she yanked him toward her and kissed him.
Her laugh echoed in Frisk's ears long after Napstablook got the courage to float in after him (with his eyes glued shut) and take Frisk back home.
-+-
A Week After That
(but a few moments before the present)
Frisk walked through the golden ballroom, having long since lost track of Napstablook, and ran into someone. They were wearing a vibrant green dress that had a bright yellow bow around the waist and a heart shaped keyhole at their collar bone, the collar of the dress rising behind their neck, which was adorned with a heart shaped locket. They wore white gloves and carried a red fan with a stark white trim to match the gloves.
"Oh! I'm so sor... ry...", he trailed off as none other than Chara Dreemurr looked back at him with wide eyes. A mischievous smirk crossed her flawlessly painted lips. It almost seemed familiar.
"No problem.", she looked him up and down, "I do, however, have a request."
"What is it, your majesty?"
"Meet me by the Falling Tree in five minutes. I have something to... discuss with you."
-+-
five minutes later
"Perfect.", Chara rumbled as Frisk walked in front of her, "Tell me, what is your name, my dear detective?"
"It's Frisk yo-", it hit him suddenly as he recognized her expression. He immediately stepped back, completely appalled. The leaves rustled beneath his feet as she let out a dark chuckle.
"I was wondering when you'd figure it out. To be fair, I was doused in blood, and the lighting in those rooms was horrid. So," she stepped closer, "are you enjoying the party?"
"You... ho-"
"Now, now, that's not much of an answer, Frisk."
"I guess I just like pretending questions I don't want to answer are rhetorical."
"Haha. Quite. Still, it's rather impolite to refuse a lady. Especially when she happens to be the princess. And happens to be able to kill you twelve different ways."
"Oh, I'm fully aware of that."
"How lovely."
She'd somehow managed to get a mere two inches from his face and asked yet another question, to which he gave her his honest answer, warranting her laugh.
"So," she gathered herself, "what do you intend to do with this information?"
Never had someone incurred Frisk's pure hatred the way Chara Dreemurr did. And he couldn't do anything about it.
"I assure you, princess, I don't have much use for the information."
He wasn't happy about it. Not one bit. But he doesn't really have a choice.
"If it helps," she said, "you can always blab and get thrown in prison."
Don't tempt me.
She put her arms around his neck and he retracted from her touch. Another of her murderous grins stretched across her face, sending shivers down Frisk's spine. She lifted her lips so that they brushed against his when she spoke.
"I could tell you my motives, but it would be much more fun to watch you try and figure them out. Now...", she shifted her eyes to look into his once again, "how about another kiss?"
She didn't give him a chance to answer as she expertly pinched just the right place on his neck and shoulders to paralyze him as she took full advantage of his frozen state in the exact manner you'd expect. The fact that she was so good at it only irked him further.
She removed her hands after what felt like half an hour and his muscles relaxed. Every fiber of his being told him to shove her away, but his common reasoning stopped him from doing just that. She continued to smile up at him and placed her hands on his hips. He immediately brushed them off and she pouted at him in an exaggerated manner.
"Aw, c'mon Frisky, we were having so much fun."
"Don't call me that."
She sighed dramatically.
"You don't have to be so stiff. After all, this is a party. I hear your adorable little assistant is cousins with the entertainment. I vote we go back inside. Unless of course...", she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, "you'd rather stay here with me."
"I'd rather you kill me first."
"Oh really? I always wondered what your scream would sound like. You're much too stoic, you know.", she placed her chin on his shoulder, "I've wondered a lot of things about you, actually. How you'd look without all the droopy clothes, for instance. Or how you'd sound moaning. How your skin would feel against mine. I'm probably right in assuming you'd have other questions on your mind, no?"
Her breath wavered on his neck as his face began to get hot. It was infuriating. Which only served to deepen the flush on his face.
"You mean like why you'd murder random people in the most brutal way possible?"
"Oh, don't be silly! I can think of plenty, much more brutal, ways of doing away with you. But why would I want to do that?"
He couldn't even find a way to react, his mind was too clouded with the last two minutes and a month's worth of undiluted rage, which was something he didn't have much experience with in the first place. Or, for that matter, being the object of someone's more than likely stalker-y affections.
"Aw, don't worry. If it helps, my first clue was a bit of a double-entendre*. I don't just do it to see you. I can do that whenever I have free time. You've just never noticed." *(awn-TAWN-druh)
Definitely stalker-y.
"I'll be sure to remember that."
"Wonderful.", she released his torso only to take hold of his arm in hers, "Shall we."
"If you insist, princess."
"And I do."
"As you wish."