Chapter Text
There was something… strange about that one customer.
Scratch that, there was something absolutely terrifying about that customer.
The moment they walked through the automatic doors of the convenience store, Sans knew there was something wrong with them. And yet he couldn’t exactly say what.
They were small, about his size. What seemed like dark sludge covered them from head to toe and slowly dripped on the off-white tiling. It muddied their features, leaving their face blank safe for a single pinprick of cyan light – a pupil? - that moved side to side within the bounds of an invisible eye socket.
The stranger didn’t even as much as glance at the counter before scurrying over to the refrigerated isle, out of Sans’s field of view.
A customer walked over with a few groceries and a bag of milk. Sans scanned the items mechanically and gave the total amount. Something moved out of the corner of his eye.
His head snapped towards it, past the magazine rack and his potted plant, but he saw nothing. Small dark stains lined the floor towards the fresh produce section.
He handed back their change to the customer who’s face he had already forgotten and mechanically waved them goodbye. Then, barely waiting for them to turn around, he leaned over the counter towards where the stranger had gone.
The dark stains let to the meat isle where they stood, refrigerator door open. Sans couldn’t see their eye, but their hands seemed to be parsing different types of red meat. They grabbed something in white packaging, pork, maybe beef, before placing it on a small pile on the side.
Their eyes met.
Sans quickly retreated to the comfort and safety of his cashier spot.
The wall behind him offered a sense of protection he didn’t know it could. Right now he couldn’t care less if the stranger just walked away with their bounty, that would be their reward for scaring the shit out of him so bad. He just wanted them to stop doing that.
A small voice in his head told him it was rude to stare at customers. Another, much louder, much more convincing voice told him that he was in danger. That he needed to run away.
Footsteps broke his train of thought, light footsteps, accompanied by an equally as light ruffle of fabric.
They stepped in front of the counter. In their arms were several pieces of meat, pork, beef, lamb. Items were placed down with a thud that made Sans jump. They glanced at him, an unreadable expression on their face, but stayed silent.
Being up close like this was even more terrifying. He knew he was in danger, and yet, he simply couldn’t find anything to justify that fear.
Maybe it was their uncanny resemblance to him, with what he could swear were his skeletal features underneath that sludge. Maybe it was their completely blank face, completely featureless safe for their single, teal-ish eye light, that stared back with a completely unreadable expression. Maybe it was their clothes, black on black with gold trims and cyan and purple hues that seemed to belong in a convention or costume party and not here. Maybe a combination of all that, that somehow activated a sleeper agent in his brain telling him a faceless doppelganger in a fancy outfit was gonna take him out back and shoot him before taking his place. But maybe it was something else.
There was something… uncanny, something wrong with their movements, with their stance. He wouldn’t call them robotic, no, there was something living behind that eye, something watching. Not animalistic either, it was too smart, too perceptive for that. But there was something. Something that was him and yet not in so many ways. Watching, waiting.
It was normal. They looked normal, a bit weird, yet normal, yet all of his senses screamed at him to run away. He knew something the others didn’t. Or rather his subconscious did. Like he was the first to break through a worn-down disguise not because it was still working but because no one had bothered to look at it up close in a long, long time.
He picked up a beef steak and brought it up to the scanner. He wasn’t shaking, he wasn’t, and yet it felt like he should be. Like if he wasn’t going to run he should at least show fear, show reverence, respect, towards… this random guy who wanted to buy meat from his store.
Showing he was scared would not make them go away.
It would probably just make them think he was weird. Or that he needed help. Or that he was having a panic attack on the job for the first time since he came to town.
He scanned all the items as fast as he could. Every few seconds, he peeked up at the stranger to make sure they hadn’t moved from their spot. They did not. Sans announced the amount displayed on the cash register.
"that’ll be 20 dollars."
They pulled out a small purse and dropped several coins on the counter. Sans didn’t bother to check if the amount was correct. Instead, his eyes were glued to them while they wordlessly picked up their items. Then, with their hands full and without a single word, they turned tail and left, their steps the only sound accompanying their departure.