Chapter Text
Frisk hated this time of year. Their science fair was rapidly approaching, and they had made almost no progress on the item they were hoping to show off. The procrastination led them to do the majority of the work when the fair was only 2 days away. Their parents, as inattentive as they were, had checked in every once in a while for the past few months with Frisk always responding “I’m further along than the rest of the class” or “I’m nearly done” or “I’m just adding the finishing touches!”
Frisk knew that realistically, their parents did not care enough to check, so their lies would go unnoticed. That is, as long as they actually got the project done and managed to avoid another parent-teacher conference about “lacking motivation.”
It was nearly 2am when they realized they were missing a key part: a hinge. While racking their brain on locations where this item might be found, they remembered dropping off an old washing machine at the local dump with their father and seeing the piles of scrapped appliances: old blenders, microwaves, stoves, and most importantly of all, old cars, which likely had some very nice and sturdy chrome-finished hinges. So, in the middle of the night, they headed over on their bike to this unfamiliar location.
The night security guard was asleep so they took few precautions against being noticed. However, this error resulted in them alerting the dog stationed outside the security guard’s outpost. The security guard stirred awake and grabbed his cap, running out the door to confront the unknown trespasser. Frisk saw no chance of avoiding capture by heading towards the exit, so they took off running in the opposite direction, further into the piles of detritus with the security guard close behind.
Their only saving grace was that the security guard, despite being charged with the responsibilities needed of a night-shift worker, seemed to not have adjusted to the low light further into the dump, as he was cautious in his steps to avoid tripping over pieces of scrap metal strewn about.
Frisk was not navigating the obstacles particularly well, but their small stature allowed them to be a bit lighter on their feet compared to the lumbering security guard. However, this small amount of luck ran out when they saw the fence on the far side of the dump quickly approaching. Panicking, they turned around to see the security guard not 10 feet behind them.
Walls of trash were to their left and right with no clear exit, unless they wanted to risk running under the security guard’s legs. Looking up at the heaps of trash, they zeroed in on something: the washing machine they had dropped off with their father. They quickly looked for a path upward and began scaling the pile, slipping and getting cut on the ankle by an old can which was unable to support their weight. The security guard stopped at the base of the trash pile, watching them, but not yet ready to scale it himself.
Noticing the age of the child, his demeanor changed from one of anger to worry. He did not want to risk harming the child further if he managed to dislodge any of the delicately placed scrap they were relying on to support their weight.“Hey kid! Get down from there!” he said, with as much concern as his voice could muster after running more than his job as a night security guard had ever required of him. “You’re not in trouble, I just want to talk!” His voice softened. “I just don’t want you to get hurt in a place like this. So if you could please come down--”
Frisk considered his words. He truly did not sound like he held any malice towards them. And their ankle was bleeding more than they had realized. They considered crawling back down so they could stop the bleeding with a first aid kit that the security guard would have in his outpost. But before they could take the first step down, they saw the guard dog racing towards them with its broken leash trailing behind. It looked vicious and as if it was only ever used in the case of real threats, not against a child trying to find pieces for an art project. To avoid getting mauled, they jumped to the top of the pile, opened the door to the old washing machine and jumped inside.
And fell.