Chapter Text
Noelle trudged around school like a zombie. Not that anyone had expected her to be chipper, they all knew how close she and her older sister were.
But her state warranted concern from even the most unlikely of people. Kris, the usual school zombie and lead Noelle tormentor, asked how she was. Berdly was incredibly accommodating to her, not that he was ever condescending to her like he was everyone else, but still.
She appreciated the concern, but it all felt... empty. Nobody could truly understand how she felt... No amount of concern would magically make the police find her sister...
As the school day ended, she dreaded going home.
It felt so empty there without Dess, and her parents weren't coping much better than she was.
She procrastinated leaving the classroom for as long as she could, until Alphys needed to close up the classroom.
The only person walking the halls, Noelle soon found her head against her locker, eyes closed. Just listening to the birds.
...She'd never done anything like this before. She had always been on her best behavior, everywhere, especially at school.
But she couldn't leave. Not now.
Spying the closet in the center of the hall, she headed straight for it, opening it up and stepping into the darkness.
Pulling a chain, she turned on the barely functioning bulb, and closed the door behind her so nobody would find her.
Then, she collapsed to the ground.
She tried to sit in silence, to take her mind anywhere else... but she just kept thinking of Dess.
She'd do anything to bring her back.
Anything.
Wiping tears from her eyes, she looked around the closet through blurred vision.
And she noticed the strangest thing on one of the shelves...
A knife.
What the heck? Was Kris storing their knives at school now?
Or is the janitor secretly a serial killer? She's heard the rumors, everyone has...
But as she picked up the blade, looking it over... She thought about the most ridiculous thing.
The occult.
Several of the school's students, notably Catti, were into it. It was hard not to overhear some of their discussions.
Stuff about stabbing blades into the ground to create the world of your dreams...
What would the Angel think of these people?
...what would the Angel think of her?
She was considering giving it a try. What did she have to lose, right?
Worst case scenario, the knife doesn't penetrate the concrete at all, just bounces off, and she looks stupid.
Best case scenario...
She gripped the hilt of the knife with both hands, angling the blade toward the ground.
She pictured the perfect world.
No suffering. Everyone is happy. No loneliness. Maybe a little more snow.
And her family. All of them.
She clenched her eyes shut as she thrust the blade toward the ground with a sudden burst of strength, surprised when she didn't feel it bounce off.
The deer hesitantly opened one eye, discovering that the knife had in fact stabbed straight through the concrete. Somehow.
Her state of shock only grew as she soon noticed a dark smoke billowing from the ground.
She panicked, thinking she'd hit some sort of important pipe beneath the concrete and sparked a gas leak...
But she was frozen. She couldn't make herself move.
She just stared blankly, as the smoke continued to fill the room, the light becoming drowned out, the closet growing darker, yet darker...
This wasn't smoke. What... WAS this?
By the time she realized that she could no longer see the knife, she scrambled to her feet, attempting to find the door... but had no luck.
And then, she found herself falling, passing out as she dropped...