The enjoyment was paramount. In spite of his passiveness and shyness, the little ghost was a charm. I enjoyed the mixtapes just as much as seeing him creating some. At least it adds to my knowledge base a little, which is something that could prove handy in the future.
Perhaps I might even surprise the Tomasso twins back at home with the tapes I copied from Napsta. They are not the only ones who can make music.
I left Napsta’s residence, only to hear a chuckle so familiar it was hardly a surprise, for this face I saw once too many times in the whole of the Underground.
“Oh, Sans,” I mumbled. “I thought you are on duty today.”
“I was,” Sans replied with a menacing chuckle. He resembled an anxious being, indecisive but also incalculable. “Hey, uh…y’heard of something called a talking flower?”
I nodded. “Sure. I saw plenty of them near the waterfall. What is it with them?”
Sans responded like he saw a ghost. “Oh, yeah…that’s them all right.”
I got closer. “Sans, is anything wrong? Tell me, please.”
Sans moved an inch away. “No, no! Stop!”
“Eh?” It defeated me, what the pint-sized skeleton was afraid of. If I recalled, I did not steal his wallet.
The skeleton fixed his jacket. “Heh. It’s nothing. I just…”
The silence unsettled me a bit. “You yelled at me and said it was nothing.” I shook my head. “Are you kidding me?! Come on, spill it out.” I folded my arms.
Sans kept his head down.
I was losing patience. “I’m waiting.”
Sans’ focus was elsewhere. He was now occupied with the trees and the rivers, or so it appeared. Eventually, he turned to me with a look that spelled out ‘I’m gonna rip you apart’, though I was not sure if his intention was that sincere. With Sans, you never know.
“Look, kid,” Sans tried to muster on. “I lied.”
“About what?” I questioned.
He sighed. “About the talking flowers.”
“What about them again?”
“You deserve to know,” Sans said. “Lately, my brother has been getting these dreams, predictions about what is going to happen in the coming days. Paps said he got it from a talking flower, which I believe I have come across not long ago. In fact, I have had fishy dreams of my own. Even though not directly related to Paps’s, but I am not sure whether or not they are related in any way.” Sans took a breather before he continued. “I missed something…”
I shook. “Whoa! This is heavy stuff_”
“That is not all,” Sans retorted. “In my dream, or should I say, my nightmare, Paps…” Sans bowed. “Paps is dead. My dear brother, killed in action. I cannot explain. It’s hard to explain…”
The discussion of a flower, and the talking variation, brought me back to my own nightmares; my encounters with the dastardly devilish Flowey. “I think I know who, or what, the talking flower is, all right.”
“So you have met him.”
I tried my best to tell Sans everything I knew. He stood listening, his hands fixed inside his deep pockets. “He tried to kill me, three times. I do not doubt he will try again, but fingers crossed. I guess I was a little lucky. I bit his vines the first time, while some dude in a river boat saved my butt the last time. It looks like I need a miracle to hang on.”
Sans did not look surprised. “The flower, or Flowey the Flower as Paps likes to call, is one hell of a demon. But hey, you’ve made it this far. He’s got nothing on you.”
I attempted to differentiate. “You sure about this?”
“Positive, kid,” he responded with a wink. “Besides, he cannot outrun me. You know what I am capable of, so you can only guess what I can do to him.” Sans’ right eye socket beamed.
I watched as Sans tossed a kitten away from the path of a bicycle, and then putting the kitten on top of a tree, all that without touching the kitten with his bony hands. A minute later, his eyes returned to its normal, blank form.
“Yeah,” I nodded firmly, “but you cannot defeat an immovable object.”
“To hell with that,” Sans remarked slyly. “I do as I please. The flower has to go. Kid, if you see him again, gimme a ring, will ya?”
I accepted the invitation, even though the suspicions hanging around myself and Sans did nothing to help our friendship. Either I have one friend and one enemy, or I could be tossed into another me-against-the-world debacle.