#the bad vibes were beginning to creep in so this is my attempt to shoo them away with a broom

[breadbox-draws]

Simpler times.

This was going to be one of those bigger ideas that spawned in the past week, but I think just these two “panels” will do <3

[skullcanons]

Things That Go Bump in the Night - Chapter One: Odd Knocks

Under the cut because it’s long.

Beta’d by the amazing @novuenova!!

Read it on Ao3

You honestly couldn't believe that the most terrifying month of your life started on an average Monday but, as you looked back on October from your place curled up on Papyrus's floor, you had no doubt that it all began on that fateful morning.

October 2nd, 201X

Some people say that when bad things are just around the corner, you can sense it. Perhaps if you had, your month would have gone much differently. As it stood though, that Monday had been one of your most average yet.

You woke feeling slightly groggy, nothing unusual for the beginning of the work week. After standing and stretching, hearing a few cracks from your back in the process, you proceeded to the shower and washed the sleep from your eyes. From the shower, you emerged fresh and ready for the day, and it took you no time at all to change into your uniform. The restaurant at which you worked was a small, Mom and Pops breakfast-brunch diner. You worked full-time, which didn't amount to much seeing as the place closed at 12 anyway, and the owners were very nice.

It was just the usual then, that when you got to work you were greeted with a plate of breakfast with a side of coffee. All the early birds who helped set up were welcomed this way, and it was one of the many perks of working somewhere small. Finishing your breakfast up, you washed your dishes before helping the rest of the staff with setting up. Napkins needed to be placed, forks shined and coffee warmed.

By 6:30 AM, it was open for business, and it was mere minutes before the first patron walked through the door. It was James, a regular who spent his mornings at the cafe before heading off to a late afternoon job. Getting to know your regulars wasn't all that unusual, and James was just one of many people you knew from work.

As usual, James looked tired. Today though, he looked especially so. You approached him with a menu and that good-old customer service smile. "Good morning!"

"Morning," James said with a tired grin. "Am I your first customer of the day?"

You chuckled and held his menu out for him, which he took. "As usual. How’s work?"

"Eh," he shrugged as he looked over his options. "I've switched to a later shift, so I'm adjusting to a new schedule. This might be the last time I'm able to come in this early."

As he was speaking, another patron walked through the door and was seated in your section. You gave James an apologetic smile. "Well, you just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Do you have to go?" he asked with mild disappointment. At your nod, he sighed and handed back his menu. "Well, I'll get my usual then. I don't know why you always bring me a menu."

"You never know when you want to try something new," you said before writing down his order and leaving his table. Your next table wasn't a regular, but the one after that was. It was Mary and John, an elderly couple who had been going to the restaurant since it opened 30 previous.

They greeted you before you got a chance to greet them. "Ah, there's our favorite server!" Mary said with a wide smile. She was in her 70s and her thin hair was short and curly, the color of fine spider silk. She had a very grandmotherly vibe about her.

"We were afraid you wouldn't be working today," John added after a moment, gaining a glare from his wife. He always wore suspenders with a bow tie and used a cane to get around. Sometimes he would tell you crazy and outlandish stories and asked you if you thought they were real or not. Mary and John had lived a pretty crazy life, so you always had a hard time distinguishing truth from tales.

You set their menus in front of them and put down the waters you got as well. They never got any drink besides water. "I always work today."

John shook his head as he picked up his menu. "You never know when something might change." You left for a moment to bring another customer her coffee, before returning to take their orders. It was still pretty slow, so you paid rapt attention to John as he handed his menu back to you. "Have I ever told you about the time I wrestled with a crocodile?"

Mary let out a frustrated groan. "Not this one again. It was an alligator, John, not a crocodile."

"They're essentially the same," John insisted.

"No, they aren't," Mary pushed right back.

As it turns out, they aren't the same. Mary gave a very interesting, in-depth description of both, describing the differences. You only caught the fringes of the conversation of course, for a Monday it was pretty busy, but they were gone by 11, bickering all the way out the door. Another one of your regulars, Jerry, came in around that time. He was a tall, willowy college student who didn't like to take showers and spent his entire life studying. Poor guy was about halfway to a mental institution with how stressed he was, but he was always pleasant when he interacted with you.

"What're you studying for today Jerry?" you questioned as you placed a pot of coffee before him. He always got the same thing, a pot of coffee and a pastry that changed on the daily.

Jerry always came in with a textbook or two, reading the carefully kept pages between gulps of coffee and nibbles of food. Today it was what looked like a math book, though you couldn't tell which as he already had it flipped to the middle. "Calc 2. I have a test at the end of the week and I want to be prepared."

"I'm sure you'll do fine hun," you said affectionately. Mothering Jerry was one of your favorite pastimes, and he didn't seem to mind. "Anyways, what'll it be today?"

"Do you have anything with strawberries?"Jerry asked without looking up.

You tapped your chin. "We do have a new strawberry tart. I had one this morning and it was really good."

Jerry finally looked up from his textbook with a hesitant smile. "Can I have that one please?"

"'course you can," you said, writing down his order. "You can have anything you want dear."

The rest of the day went as such and, as usual, you left five minutes before closing. The owners never made early birds close, as they already helped with setting everything up. After bidding goodbye to both Jerry and James, both of which were still finishing up, you made your way to your car in relative silence. The parking lot was half full of cars, though there were no people in sight. Most must have still been in the building.

There was a slight, unexpected breeze that sent a shiver down your spine, and you closed your coat further around you to combat the cold. The changing of the seasons left the weather in an odd, in-between state that could be annoying on occasion.

As you approached your car, you noticed something strange placed right in front of your windshield. It was small and ivory in color. Approaching further, an odd feeling touched just the fringes of your consciousness. The feeling was primal and unidentifiable at the time, though later you would identify it as the feeling of being observed. Watched. As if a pair of eyes were piercing your very soul from somewhere out of sight.

That was when you saw it, and the emptiness of the parking lot only made your gasp sound louder. On the hood of your car was the skull of a rodent. Most likely a rat or a mouse based on size and shape. It was pointed toward you, a position that made it appear as if it were staring right through you.

You shuttered.

In an attempt to not touch it, you knocked it off with your bag, sending it flying somewhere else in the parking lot. Creeped out as you were, you checked the entirety of the vehicle before getting in, finding nothing else out of place or unusual. It must have been some neighborhood punks idea of a joke. Or a stray cat. Laughing at your own discomfort over something so tiny, you pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

With a little hum, you set your phone on your dash and prompted it to call Papyrus.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Friend! I am glad that you called. Are you on your way over now?" the tall, endearing skeleton questioned over the phone.

You nodded before you realized he couldn't see you. "Uh, yeah. I just got off work." In your rearview mirror, you saw a black jeep tailgating you. Having no tolerance for annoying drivers, you brake checked them before continuing your conversation. "What's on the schedule today?"

"Well-" someone was shouting in the background, though you couldn't make out the voice. "I think we're going to have to cancel today. Sans had a bit of an accident-"

Your heart stopped. "Is he okay?!"

Papyrus made an annoyed sound. "He is but our friendship spaghetti isn't! It startled me so bad that I spilled it all over the ceiling!"

Once again you had to break check the jeep. Finally, he seemed to get the message though, gunning it around you and down the block. The car moved so quickly that you couldn’t see exactly who was driving it, but the glare of the driver made your hackles rise. You sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that Papyrus. We can't hang out then?"

"No-here, talk to the perpetration himself!" There was a slight scuffle on his end of the phone.

"hello?" Sans sounded tired and stressed.

You turned onto your street. "Hey. Papyrus says I can't come over because there was an accident."

Sans sighed and you could see in your mind's eye his shoulders sagging. "yeah. everything's fine though. maybe you can come over sometime next week? the house should be okay by then."

"Yeah, that'd be fine," you agreed. As you talked you pulled into your spot in the apartment building's parking lot. "I've gotta let you go, but, um, stay safe, okay?"

"heh, you too bud."

The line went dead and you stuck the phone back into your pocket. There went your afternoon plans. With a sigh you exited your vehicle before heading to the entrance to the building, or, you would have if there wasn't a flock of crows in the way.

"Wait, no, not flock," you murmured, trying to shoo them away. The birds were stubborn however and just hopped around your feet as you tried to get to the door. Some even cawed at you, as if you were the one bothering them. You paused halfway there and snapped your fingers. "A murder. A flock of crows is called a murder."

As if cued by your words the crows took off, one catching in your hair as it flew away to a nearby telephone wire, now cawing louder as if taunting you. Huffing, you made your way to the door and opened it easily. You supposed there was originally a lock to the building entrance, but the door was easily opened just by twisting the handle the right way. It was pretty rusty, and old, so you couldn’t expect much.

Your apartment was on the first floor, so in no time at all, you got to your tiny home and shut the door behind you. After dropping your bag by the door you slipped off your shoes and collapsed on your small couch. Everything about your apartment was small, which was fine seeing as you lived by yourself. Living on the first floor, you invested in blinds and curtains early, knowing how creepy some people could be. Said protections were wide open, however, as they always were during the day.

Looking toward your window, you made eye contact with your cat. Wednesday, as you so aptly dubbed her, was a very particular feline. She was gorgeous with her slim agile body and thick, black coat, but she was very finicky when it came to affection. You were only really 'allowed' to pet her when she requested it, otherwise, she would nip at your hand and attack you with her paws.

You, of course, ignored her obvious distaste.

"Hello Wednesday, aren't you looking purrdy this afternoon," you called from the couch, chuckling at your own pun. Wednesday did not look impressed. "Aw come here Wednesday," you made some kissy noises while patting your legs. "Here Wednesday!"

The cat did not move.

Groaning, you got up and approached the sprawled out, sunbathing feline. She stared at you with obvious displeasure as you scooped her up into your arms. Using one arm to hold her, you used the other to pet her soft tummy, an action that lead to her biting your hand and you dropping her. "Ow, fine, I don't like you anyway."

With a sulky look on your face, you returned to the couch and turned on the TV. The screen flickered for a moment before turning on properly. After flipping through the channels for a bit, you landed on a show that you could tolerate and immediately got out your phone to scroll through your social media accounts. Then your stomach growled. Yes, lunch was in order.

Just as you were about to get up to make a sandwich or something, a knock on the door startled you. Had Papyrus changed his mind?

Getting up, you approached the door and looked through the peephole, something you would be eternally grateful for. To your surprise, there wasn't anyone there. You did a double take before opening the door and looking around for the perpetrator. Some of the kids in the apartment could be brats, and you wouldn't put it past them to prank you.

You were about to step back into your apartment when you noticed something at your feet. It was a large jar of strawberry jam, with a neat little bow wrapped around the top. Curious. After picking it up, you discovered nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it appeared to be the very same kind you occasionally got at your local grocery store. Thinking the gift to be a show of neighborly friendliness, you shrugged and reentered your apartment, setting the jam on a shelf to be forgotten.

Later that night you were about to go to bed when suddenly Wednesday jumped from her place on the window and rushed into the room, growling lowly. This was very unusual behavior for your quiet pet, so you approached the now closed window with more than a little trepidation. Taking a breath, you peeked through the blinds to see… nothing besides the darkness blanketing the lot. The parking lot lay empty besides a few cars, and there was not a soul to be seen. You got that feeling again, that itching under your skin, but you shook it off so as to not psych yourself out before bed.

Still, you could not shake the feeling that you were missing something, so you double checked all the locks before going to bed, a very grumpy Wednesday joining you.

Knock.

You sat up in your bed, startled and cotton-headed.

Knock Knock.

There was someone at the door.

Knock Knock Knock.

Groaning, you turned over to look at your alarm clock, and your eyes widened when you saw what time it was.

3 AM. Who on earth would call on you at 3 AM?

On unsteady feet you stood from your bed and slipped on the robe you kept hanging near your closet. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Wednesday darting under the bed with a hiss and a growl. Putting your cat out of your mind, you crept down your short, dark hall to your front door and paused.

Still groggy, you looked through the peephole.

There was no one there.

Maybe you were just dreaming? Regardless, you checked the locks once more before going back to bed, sleeping fitfully until morning.