Frisk tossed restlessly in her sleep, her brow furrowed tightly as beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Quiet murmurs escaped her lips, trembling and filled with fear. “Mmn... no... no...” she whimpered, her small body shivering under the thin blanket as the nightmare gripped her.

Suddenly, she bolted upright, chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy breaths. Her eyes darted around the dim room, heart pounding fiercely in her chest. Relief washed over her as she spotted Asriel lying peacefully beside her, still deep in sleep. A shaky sigh escaped her lips — he was safe, at least for now. But the relief was short-lived. As her gaze shifted, a dark, twisted figure materialized in the corner of the room — only visible to her eyes. Chara’s pale, unsettling form lingered silently, a shadow of torment that gnawed at her mind.

“Go away, Chara!” Frisk’s voice cracked with a mix of anger and desperation. Her fists clenched tightly as she tried to push the haunting presence away, willing it to vanish before anyone else could see the torment she hid deep within. The room remained still, but Frisk’s trembling continued — trapped between the fragile comfort of the waking world and the haunting shadow that only she could see.