The forest was eerily quiet as you walked along the narrow path, the only sound being the soft crunch of leaves under your feet. The trees towered above, their branches twisting and bending like fingers reaching for the sky. The deeper you went, the more you felt it.. That prickling sensation at the back of their neck, like eyes boring into them from the shadows. Like sins crawling on your back. You glance over your shoulder every few steps. But each time, there was nothing there—just the same dark, empty woods.

But the unease wouldn’t go away. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating, as if the forest itself was closing in. The path twisted and turned, leading you deeper into the woods, and that’s when you heard it—a faint rustling, like someone—or something—was moving through the bushes near you, getting closer. You quickly turn around.

And there he was, your old skeleton pal, Swap Sans, standing there as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along. His grin was wide, too wide, and his eyes sparkled with a sick innocence. He looked like he was on the verge of laughter, as if this whole situation was some twisted joke only he understood.

“How lovely to see you here,” Yanberry said, his voice dripping with mock innocence, as if he hadn’t been stalking you through the woods for the past half-hour. He tilted his head, eyes never leaving yours, that unsettling grin never faltering. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost... I don't scare you, do I?”