1. This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies. Learn More.

VOXISTALE: Episode 3 "A New Threat" Ch. 4

by comic

comic Asgore's survival doesn't mark the end of the attacks. Today begins a new kind of war with monsters.
The moment Asgore entered his home, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He winced slightly, feeling Frisk's head press against a busted rib. "I'm glad you're okay." He told her, closing the door behind him as she let go. "Are you kidding me?" She asked. "I'm glad you're okay. Sans told me what happened."

Asgore gave a small smile. “No need to worry about me, my child, I’m alright. It’s more than I can say for those poor people that got caught in the middle of things.” Frisk eyed Asgore, noticing the bandages on his face and hand. He looked tired, and she couldn’t blame him.

"I'll make you supper tonight." She decided. "What?" He asked as she grabbed his big furry hand and led him to the couch. "You get the night off, dad." She told him. "Relax and heal. I'll make something for us to eat."

“Are you sure?” Asgore raised an eyebrow as he sat. “I wouldn’t want you to burn yourself, or something of the sort.”

“I’ll be alright, I know how to cook,” Frisk assured him. “You just take it easy, okay?”

Asgore let out a sigh, before smiling warmly at his adopted daughter. "Thank you, Frisk." He told her. "I'll be in here if you need me." With that, he sat down. Satisfied, Frisk moved to the kitchen, already having an idea of what to make.

Bacon-covered lasagna. The plan hadn’t changed. She'd need to invite Terrence over too. That still stood, despite the circumstances.

She pulled out her phone as she tapped a few buttons on the oven to begin the preheating process.

‘Hey, I know today’s been kind of weird, but are you still coming over for dinner?’ she typed. A couple of seconds later, a reply bubble popped in.

‘Yeah, when should I be there?’

‘Any time is alright. I’m making bacon lasagna.’

‘I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can, in that case.’

Frisk smiled, sliding her phone into her back pocket before getting to work as Asgore leaned back on the couch, feeling his wounds ache. His mind was reeling with the recent events.

That woman... she'd been sadistic. Psychotic. Terrifying. He'd never faced someone like her before. Sure, he'd faced tougher, but the way she toyed with him... it was all unsettling. Every part of his mind screamed to hunt her down and exact revenge. She'd taken Toriel from him... but for some reason, he didn't think she had. Toriel's death had been much different than the attack on his life. This woman was certainly not working alone. He'd need to pay Undyne a visit and see if he could get involved in the investigation surrounding the recent monster attacks.

His gut sank as he recalled the poor people in the path of his truck... His heart ached at the memory. It made him sick to his stomach.

And a part of him couldn’t help but wonder- he’d been the only one so far to actually survive one of these strange, sudden attacks against monsters. Would she be coming back for him? In his sleep, perhaps? Paranoia began to creep in, much to his chagrin. Frisk had wanted him to relax, but all he could think about was how horrible this all was.

A few minutes later, a knock could be heard at the door. Asgore looked over to see Frisk, busy cutting the bacon, and decided to stand up to answer the door. Perhaps it was the police, or maybe a lawyer, or... something.

He opened the door, and saw a familiar orange-eyed boy standing there.

"Ah. Terrence." Asgore smiled, though it seemed artificial, and to Asgore, felt that way. He was too anxious at the moment to be the proper host he'd like to be. Terrence smiled back. "Hey, Mr. Dreemurr." He replied as the king stepped to the side to let Terrence in. "I'd almost forgotten you were coming by."

“Me too. How are you doing?...” the boy looked at Asgore’s bandaged wounds as he entered the home. “I’m doing fine,” Asgore told Terrence with a smile. “Thank you for your concern. I’m told these will be healed in a few days, best case scenario.”

"Worst case?"

"A week." Asgore shrugged. "So not too bad."

"Hey T!" Frisk called from the kitchen. Despite the situation, Terrence was quick to notice that she seemed in unusually high spirits.

“Frisk!” he greeted with equal enthusiasm, approaching her. “I would have brought some flowers or something, but all they had were some shriveled up daisies.”

“That’s alright,” Frisk told him, and began washing the bacon residue off of her hands. “I’m just glad you came!”

Asgore returned to the living room, delving back into his own thoughts as Terrence lowered his voice. "Hey uh... found out something 'interesting' about Greg's disappearance." He informed her.

“Interesting? Good or bad, interesting?” she asked. He looked a bit uncomfortable as he pulled out his phone, showing her the photo. She leaned in to look at it, and it was more difficult to tell how she felt the more she read.

Finally, Frisk pulled back, her mouth a thin line. Terrence tucked away his phone, staring at her. "What do you think it means? You think he's already... gone?"

“Well... he wasn’t home, he wasn’t at school... I don’t know where else he would be, honestly,” Frisk sighed. “He won’t answer our texts... so how do we find out?”

"I think we just have to wait." Terrence replied with a shrug. "I mean, I really hope he didn't bail on us, but... he has been acting pretty distant lately, and now, with things starting to get crazy..."

“I just wish he would at least let us know he’s okay,” Frisk admitted, looking at the uncooked lasagna, layered perfectly. “It’s so unlike him to disappear,” she added, picking up the dish to put it in the oven.

"Why do you think he wouldn't tell us about this, anyway?" Terrence asked. "I mean, he knows we'd both support him for getting into a college this early, right? It just... doesn't make any sense."

“Maybe... he’s... upset with us?” Frisk wondered aloud, looking at Terrence. “We have been hanging out a lot just you and me lately...”

“...Oh. Did we third-wheel him?”

Frisk pursed her lips. "I think we'll hear from him soon. I think this was probably an emotional decision on his part and he'll regret it soon. Or maybe he's actually somewhere where he can't talk to us. I mean... he doesn't have mobile data like us, after all."

“I guess you’re right. At least we know what college he might have gone too,” Terrence said, holding up his phone. “In the meantime, though... I guess we should just keep our fingers crossed.”

Frisk gave a nod of agreement as she set the timer for the lasagna.


Something felt...

Familiar about this.

"Rest ye my angel, you hm hm hmmm..."

Asgore stopped humming, looking out of the front of his truck before him, seeing three people on the sidewalk together, talking and laughing. His blood ran cold as he moved his gaze to the left, watching as a truck was seconds away from ramming into him...

He slammed on the brakes, but the car kept moving, much to his dismay. His heart was beating rapidly as his vehicle went crashing through the street, the sound of screams and metal colliding with pavement echoed around him. Asgore slowly peered out of the semi-shattered car window to see a face staring back at him.

The woman, sneering at him before grabbing his door and yanking it off with force. "Gorey... what's with the look? I've missed you dearly..." She licked her lips, reaching inside with bloody hands, grasping his shoulder. "Come play with me~"

Asgore trembled with rage and fear, about to shout and attack with all his might...

But then he shot up, cold sweat beading up on his forehead. He looked around, and realized he had fallen asleep on the couch. The king rubbed his eyes, checking his watch.

It was only two in the morning...

He had a long day ahead of him. Work, and...

He frowned. He'd just been attacked. Surely Mr. Obaseki would allow a day off? If that were the case, Asgore could schedule a meeting with Undyne, maybe do a little digging of his own. Hopefully she still had that USB drive they'd taken from Toriel's. Undyne had taken it somewhere safe once Asgore requested she keep it away from her superiors.

He glanced over at the kitchen, remembering that he, Frisk, and Terrence had eaten that bacon lasagna. He rubbed his eyes, hoping that nightmare wouldn’t be recurring as he stood. What time had Terrence left? He wasn’t sure if he’d been awake.

He was about to grab his phone to call Officer Dhelaron, before deciding against it. It was much too early to be bugging the late-working Undyne. But... perhaps Alphys could help? It had been a while since he'd seen the Royal Scientist, and there was a possibility she was already conjuring up inventions to detect these assailants and combat them.

He felt a bit bad about calling the scientist so early in the morning, but he could recall that Alphys was usually up even later than this watching anime. Asgore wasn’t sure if her sleep schedule had changed since she began living on the surface, but dialled her number anyways, hoping for the best.

It rang for a good two seconds before it was picked up. "Asgore?" Her nasally voice came in through the speaker. "Good morning, Alphys. Or... night, if you're still up." He chuckled softly at that. "It's good to hear from you." She admitted. "I was really really w-worried when I heard about the attack... did you get a look at your attacker?"

“I got plenty of looks,” Asgore answered. “She must have thought she would kill me. She had no problems with letting me see her face.”

”Well, h-how are you? Hurt?” she said, sounding concerned.

“Yes, a bit. But it’s nothing I can’t handle,” he assured her. “I’m calling because I would like your assistance.”

"O-of course." Alphys replied. "That's why I asked about her. I have a new monitoring system I've been setting up since Toriel was... k-killed. I'm almost done with it, a-and when it's set up around the city? Nobody will even so much as b-blow their nose without me k-knowing about it."

"That's quite the invasion of privacy." Asgore commented. "But it needs to be done." She stated.

“But such a device... would it even be legal?”

”Not at all,” Alphys admitted, sounding like she’d already made up her mind about this. Asgore didn’t want to get involved with this sort of thing, knowing that if they were caught, they would be punished severely. Greater good or not...

But at the same time, he desperately wanted to stop these people. The people that had taken his beloved Toriel away.

"Does Undyne know?" Asgore inquired. "Er... n-not yet..." Alphys sighed. "I don't think I'll tell her, either. Not until everything's o-over. She cares too much about upholding the law and all that... I think she'd just be disappointed in me, but... t-this has to be done. I won't allow anyone to get hurt any more,"


"N-not if I can help it..."


Mettaton threw his arms up grandiosely, beaming at his adoring fans with pearly whites, taking in their cheering and applause as the spotlights showed down upon him. "Thank you for attending this special early morning premier of the 'Cooking With Mettaton' spin-off... Skelechef!"

More applause, much to the robot’s satisfaction. “Unfortunately, darlings, I won’t be your host this time around, but fear not! Your chef is someone with plenty of glamour- introducing the great Papyrus!”

There was a wave of clapping and cheering, whistling too as Papyrus pranced onto the stage, striking a few dramatic poses as he did. He was wearing his ‘cool dude’ outfit, along with an apron.

“NYEH! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HAVING ME, METTATON!” Papyrus greeted him as he arrived at the center stage.

"Of course, darling." Mettaton smiled brightly at the skeleton, before lowering his voice. "You memorized the script right?" He muttered urgently.

"ERM. YES. OF COURSE." A bead of sweat trickled down Papyrus' skull as Mettaton let out a sigh. "Well... I have faith in you, Papyrus. Knock 'em dead, darling."

Papyrus’s grin widened, and he turned to face the audience, who were awaiting his cooking expertise. Mettaton dramatically danced his way backstage, leaving the skeleton alone.


Mettaton made his way past a few crew members, heading for the dressing room. Papyrus' program was only thirty minutes at the moment, plus commercials, so that gave the robot just enough time to beautify himself up for the after-show. The finale of season 8 of 'Cooking With Mettaton'. Some had questioned his decision to place Skelechef ahead of the finale, but frankly, he felt pretty positive about this choice.

He could hear the skeleton talking about proportions and whatnot, which was in the script, luckily. Most stars had people to help them with their outfits, makeup, hair, and overall glamour, but Mettaton had refused to hire anything of the sort. He was more than capable of self-beautification, after all. He entered his personal, private dressing room, softly shutting the door behind him before falling into a seat with a sigh. He definitely was gonna need a recharge once the morning was over. And that much-deserved break was just over the horizon... Once the finale was over, Mettaton was going on a vacation to the Bahamas. Why? Because he felt like it. Papyrus would handle things back here until the robot returned home.

There was a soft knock on the door, surprising Mettaton, who frowned. "I'm in the middle of destressing!" He shouted through the door. "You know how I feel about being interrupted."

No reply. Just another knock.

Mettaton blinked, even more peeved. He decided not to answer- but then there was another knock on the door. The robot groaned, standing up, wondering who he was about to fire. Whoever was on the other side of the door was persistent, which was extremely odd- maybe the show had gone wrong? Oh, dear...

When he opened the door, Mettaton was greeted by... nobody. Hm. Had they left after knocking a third time? Or perhaps it was just his imagination.

If it was a mistake, he needed to get his audio sensors checked. It was about that time for a tune-up from Alphys anyway. They were scheduled to meet tomorrow, so hopefully he wouldn't be hearing things for much longer.

He turned back around, closing the door behind him, shaking his metallic head. "I need this vacation..." He muttered to himself, staring in the mirror at his perfect body.

Slowly, Mettaton approached the mirror. He really should have been rehearsing by now... not that he thought he’d mess up, goodness no, but it never hurt anyone to be careful. Mettaton looked at himself for a few seconds, before striking a pose. “Why yes, Papyrus, darling, I did get a haircut. How sweet of you to notice,” he said, glad nobody was around to see him. After a few seconds, he looked back at himself in the mirror.

Then paused.

There was someone behind him. The outline of a person, standing in the corner of the room. Mettaton couldn’t make out any details, which was strange, since the room was well-lit.

Flipping his head about, Mettaton turned to face this peeping tom, giving a very hard frown. So hard it actually started to hurt a little. "Who are you?" He demanded. Was that even the right question? It was weird... maybe he should pose a more appropriate inquiry.

"Er... what are you?" He corrected, still frowning.

Suddenly, the figure shot out from the corner, and was standing behind him. Mettaton nearly let out a scream- before he saw that it was just Papyrus, grinning goofily.


"Papyrus..." Mettaton shook his head, breathing deeply. "Don't do that." He paused, brow creasing. "Erm... Papyrus, you didn't... hear what I was saying, did you?" His metallic cheeks simulated a blush, a stupid mechanic Alphys thought necessary.


Mettaton blinked, before smiling widely. “Oh, Papyrus! I’m delighted to hear you say that. Say, why don’t you and I do the next segment together? Could you get me an outfit from the closet?”

Mettaton pointed to a nearby door, the room likely filled with clothing. The moment Papyrus’s back was turned, Mettaton raised one leg, kicking him in the back of the skull as hard as he could. Papyrus went flying across the room, hitting a wall. The skeleton looked terrified, turning.


“Because Papyrus wouldn’t sneak up on me,” Mettaton began, hands on his hips. “And I know the show’s schedule like the back of my hand. Commercials don’t begin for another three minutes and eight seconds. And most importantly? Skeletons don’t have ears. So, I’ll ask you again- what are you? Who are you?”

‘Papyrus’ stood up, not grinning anymore. “ALL THAT VOCAL PRACTICE... FOR NOTHING!!”

"That still doesn't answer my question, darling." Mettaton's eyes narrowed, his tone threatening. "Nobody impersonates my Papyrus and gets away with it. Answers. Now." He demanded.

Papyrus scowled, before a long, thin blue bone appeared in his left hand. "I'm here to kill you." Was all he said before a wall of bones erupted between the two, shifting across the floor for Mettaton.

Whoever this imposter was could also clearly impersonate Papyrus' attacks.

Mettaton narrowly avoided the rows of bones, noticing a burgundy glow emitting from his attacker’s ribcage. Clearly, this person had been hoping to end things before the commercial break, but the clock was ticking, and they both knew it.

“That still doesn’t answer my questions,” Mettaton repeated with a sigh, his SOUL firing a bombardment of small bullets, to which the attacker created a large orange bone in their hands, rapidly spinning it around. The bullets bounced off it with clinking noises.

"That's the only answer you need to know." Papyrus replied, though the voice had long since lost the Papyrus charm, now feminine and cold, Mettaton's SOUL turning blue and he was slammed down as a wall of bones erupted around him.

The robot let out a cry of pain as several bones punctured through his suit in various places.

“I don’t have time to dispose of you the way I wanted to,” the cold voice said. “I was hoping to drown you in a sea of bones, but that’ll take too long. Lucky you. You get to experience true beauty before you’re reduced to scrap metal.

It was then that Mettaton noticed the security cameras in the room were missing... he frowned, before ‘Papyrus’s’ disguise gave out. In a flash, the stranger’s form changed, and instead of a skeleton, a human now stood before Mettaton.

It was clearly a female, judging from the slightly elevated chest region and the feminine features, accompanied by long, curly purple hair and piercing burgundy eyes. She wore a lot of black leather and skull markings, giving off the appearance of a biker. Her boots were spiked, her belt was lined with some sort of foreign symbols, and the orange bone in her hand was now a burgundy katana.

“I’m impressed with you. Not many can sniff my disguises. It’s a shame this star’s about to... burn out,” the woman said, grinning from ear to ear. Despite this, her gaze was stoic and cold.


"-If you need proof then look at my biceps because they're wearing sunglasses and that clearly means I rule..." Papyrus hummed softly to himself, strutting backstage, beaming and glowing with confidence. That had gone exceptionally well. While he had ruined the cake with the addition of some Papasta, the audience had clearly enjoyed it. Now he had to find Mettaton and let him know how successful the first half of the premiere had been.

Papyrus stopped in front of a door with a star on it. On the star was a picture of Mettaton, and beneath it was the word ‘Mettaton.’

He concluded that this room must contain or belong to Mettaton. He attempted to open it up, but the skeleton found that the door was locked from the inside. How strange.

"METTATON!" Papyrus called, rapping his boney knuckles on the door. No response. Frowning, he knocked again. "METTATON! IT'S ME! THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

Still no response. How odd...


Papyrus tried the handle again, but had no luck. He tried picking the lock with a very miniscule bone- and shockingly, the door opened. Inside the room was dark and silent- odd, considering how bright and sparkly Mettaton preferred things.


Still no response of any sort. Papyrus frowned, and looked around the dark room for anything shiny. The light streaming in wasn't a lot, but it was reflecting a bunch of glitter on the ground.

He shifted his gaze to start looking for a light switch.

It was difficult in the darkness, but his hand eventually found the slightly elevated patch of wall that held the lightswitch. Once he flicked it on, however, he didn’t like what he saw. His jaw nearly fell off.

Mettaton was collapsed on the floor, cut down the middle. Not completely cut in half, but the wound was deep, and the machine was making no noise or movement.

"OH MY GOD! METTATON!" Papyrus cried, falling to his knees and pulling the body to him as gently as he could, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. "OH NO! WHAT HAPPENED? I NEED TO... YES! THE BRILLIANT DOCTOR! SHE CAN FIX YOU UP IN NO TIME AT ALL!"

Papyrus whipped out his cell phone. It was times like these that commercials were very convenient. He dialed in Alphys’ number, but was sent to voicemail after some anime-like ringing. He groaned, calling Undyne instead.

"HEY BONEHEAD!" The response was immediate and sudden, making Papyrus slightly jump. "UNDYNE!" He replied. "PAPYRUS!" She yelled back before he could say anything. "UNDYNE," He began. "I-"








Papyrus took in a deep, deep breath despite not having lungs.

“UUUUUUUNDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYNE!!!!” he screeched as loud as possible. A pained murmur creaked out from the other end.

”G-good lord, Papyrus, what is it?” Undyne’s voice grumbled, having likely had an eardrum ruptured.


There was only a split second of silence before Undyne's voice came back in, gravely dark. "I'm on my way." Was all she said before hanging up.

Papyrus let out a shrill sigh, looking at Mettaton’s deactivated body. Nobody was around who could have done this. It had to have happened during the show...

That was when he noticed it. Looking down, his gaze landed upon a piece of fabric lying on the ground. It was... leather. Odd. Mettaton hated leather.

Papyrus nearly snatched it, but then remembered Mettaton’s advice from the hit TV show, Detective Mettaton. You should never move or touch potential evidence. He leered at the leather, not sure where it came from.



Meanwhile, on the north side of Voxis by the docks, a young woman stood by a pier, leaning against a post, arms crossed. Her hair was bubblegum pink, shoulder-length, and blown back to look poofy. Her eyes were a deep, bright blue.

Another woman was approaching her.

“It was easy,” the approaching woman said, without properly greeting the pink-haired girl, as if they were picking up from a previous conversation.

This was the woman who’d just attacked Mettaton.

"Well, 'course it was, Trixie." The younger one with pink hair winked. "Told ya drinks were on me tonight if you succeeded. Thank God Psycho didn't kill the King or she'd be trying to get me to drink her blood about now."

“Oh, Mag. You’re so funny,” the purple haired woman said with a grin. “You know, I think the leaders secretly knew that Psycho wouldn’t win that. You and I got lucky.”

"Suuuper lucky." Mag agreed, pushing herself away from the post as Trixie came to a stop. "You get the ego bot and I get the lazy skeleton. Whoever has the fish cop is doomed, though. Was it... Warmy?"

“Oh, yeah. She’d snap poor ol’ Sunshine like a dry twig. But he has a way of getting his work done, one way or another,” Trixie shrugged. “Say, wasn’t there a human on the list, too?”

Mag gave a slight nod, shivering slightly. "Yeah. That kid who was ambassador a few years back. Remember her?" She asked.

“Yeah. I feel bad for her, honestly. Guess she just didn’t know what she was doing to herself when she took on that roll, I suppose. I’m just glad I’m not the one who has to kill a little girl.”

Magnum shivered again, though this time it wasn't from the cold. "Well, anyway, I'm glad to see you came out alright." She told Trixie. "Now can we head somewhere warm? I'm freezing."

“Sure, sure. I know a few places around here,” Trixie said, putting a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. “Hurry, now. I’d hate for you to catch a cold there, Mag.”

Together, the two made their way back into the city, leaving the docks behind. The night sky was clear, cold, and dark.

An ominous feeling hung in the air.

Something had started this day, and nobody knew how serious it was yet.


@ThePlayfulFox @EeviumZ @RenzFlintrock @Mokko
There you have it. The episode 3 conclusion. And with this out now, I won't be posting any more to Charms. However, if you'd like to keep up with the journey, I will be continuing it on Fanfiction, which is the only place on the internet that has garnered a larger amount of interest.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13675433/1/VOXISTALE (VOXISTALE Chapter 1: A Happy Ending, an undertale fanfic | FanFiction)

VOXISTALE created by Comic (Adam Caldwell-Byrd) and Mokko (Desmond Teryn)
ThePlayfulFox likes this.