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Kris Dreemurr is to die on Tuesday, November Second. They’re coming to terms with it, learning to accept a gruesome fate. They’d Googled the exact amount of time, once. 16 years, 3 months, and 29 days. 195 months and 29 days. 852 weeks and 1 day. 5,965 days. 143,160 hours. 8,589,600 minutes. 515,376,000 seconds. Sure, everyone knows they’re gonna die one day. Fate of humans, there’s always an end of the line. But man, three days isn’t a whole lotta time.
They had a bad feeling the moment Mrs. Holiday encouraged them to take the soul. She insisted that they’d be the only one hurt, that everyone would be fine, that Dess would be back. They’re starting to think they’re not included in that “everyone”. But the moment Susie crushed that prophecy panel? The moment she flipped out on Ralsei, the moment she refused to tell them what that last panel was, they knew. They just knew.
If they’re being honest, they’d seen far more of the prophecy than anyone else in their town. The second half of the prophecy being lost to time, the church only speaking of The Girl, The Cage, The Prince, and The Angel left Kris both in the dark and hopeful for years. Until a couple of hours ago.
But they were coming to terms with it. Or at least, accepting that they were dying on an ugly date. Really, who wants to die on a Tuesday? They could already imagine their gravestone, Kris Dreemurr, loving child and sibling. 7/4/2009-11/2/2025. May The Angel forever watch over them. Something generic like that. Something boring, something that felt like no one ever really knew them at all. And maybe no one did. If they were lucky, maybe their mother would put something about the piano on the stone. Maybe if she were kind, she’d cremate them, and sprinkle their ashes on something dear like the rest of their family.
But it’s far too late to be thinking about that. Especially not while they could hear how much fun their mother was having through the thin walls of the house. Especially not while the SOUL has been ripped out of their body again, and a voice is screeching from the other side of their old hand-me-down iPhone 11. Especially not as they jumped out their window like they were nine again, sneaking out to continue playing in the mud with Noelle.
Instead, as they scaled down the walls of their house, they thought about how ugly of a date they’d be dying on. Aside from Tuesdays objectively being worse than Mondays, no matter how you write the date it looks wrong. American way? 11/2/25. Ugly. British way? 2/11/25. British and ugly. Written out? November Second, Two Thousand and Twenty-Five. Long, wordy, and still so ugly. Maybe this was their karma. They had a good, long list on what could be used for karma. And well deserved too, best believe they’ve done some really messed up shit.
Clearly, they must’ve been thinking far too hard, as they missed the last step onto their porch and fell flat on their ass. They let out a pained sound, full stop to make sure their mom hadn’t noticed, then continued freaking out in near silence. Not so luckily for Kris, Susie was only about halfway down the hill of their driveway, and got to watch their scene of wallowing on the ground for a few seconds.
She approached from behind them, making the same face she does in class when Alphys begins ranting that tells Kris “I’m about to burst out laughing if you make any changes to your face. Please be kind to me.”
“Dude. What the hell was that. Are you okay? I heard a bang, and turned around to see you just sitting right on your ass,” she wavered out. Barely contained laughter, she offers a hand to Kris.
Kris glared at her. They took in the way her mouth was shaking, poorly holding back laughter. The way she offered out a hand to them, the one that didn’t punch their death panel. Kris continued to glare at her.
After several embarrassing seconds of sitting on the mud of their yard, they stood up on their own. Their refusal of help is what made Susie absolutely lose it. She began loudly laughing, before biting her lip in a failing attempt to silence herself. Kris was merely adding to the comedy, unsuccessfully trying to wipe mud off their ass. Angel, first they were dying before getting their braces off, now they’re making an absolute fool of themself in front of Susie. What’s next, Mom still gets their PSAT score and it turns out they got a 320? Wait, don't jinx that.
“Let’s just go. I think I can still hear my mom and that freaking skeleton.” Man, that felt really nice. Being able to say something directly to Susie, rather than having to pray that the SOUL made them say what they wanted to. And now they were walking through their town, Susie trailing slightly behind them, without the threat of speaking to everyone they know.
They started to walk around aimlessly, ignoring the growing runny nose they were developing. Susie made light chatter sometimes, and it was nice to hear her. If they’re being honest with themself, they wanted to hear more of her voice. Something to ground Kris, throughout all of this madness. Comforting them through the knowledge that they’d be dead before having to collect grades for college applications.
They turned down the road of the playground that Kris refuses to show the SOUL. Sitting down on the bench intended for parents to watch their children is the most rest they’ve had in… Two days? Or was it one? No, it had to have been two. Cyberworld was one day, TV World was the late hours of last night, and The Sanctuaries… Well the times on those seemed to blend together. Maybe the Angel would be kind, and let them get at least a few hours of sleep before the festival tomorrow. Or maybe it too knew that very soon they’d be sleeping eternally.
However long it’d been, it was nice to feel their back practically decompress from exhaustion. They brought their knees close to their chest, and leaned closer to Susie in a desperate attempt to regain the warmth that seemed to be radiating off her. The comfort that these days seemed to only come from her presence. She simply laughed at them, and slung her arm over their shoulders, pulling them in closer. Letting them in, trusting them enough to provide both of their solace. Putting her whole heart into a pathological liar.
Kris Dreemurr had a bucket list to complete before they died. First, to come out to their abuela. Even if she wouldn’t understand, she’d care. Second, apologize to Noelle. Say sorry for everything they’d done to her, sorry for killing her sister, sorry for leaving, sorry for treating her like “just a neighbor”. Sorry for forcing her to be friends with them in the first place. Third, get either Susie or Noelle to say something about their feelings to each other. Set them up on a real date, get them to stop dancing around each other. Fourth, apologize to their mother for making her believe she wasn’t doing a good enough job loving them. Make sure she knows that Kris loved her more than anything, and that despite everything they caused, they appreciated her love. Fifth, get over their stupid crush on Susie. Get over Susie, get over their stupid, measly little crush they’d had on her since she’d moved here, be a good friend to her, something that she deserved.
Kris Dreemurr is gonna die in freaking Massachusetts, and all they could do was stare up at Susie like she hung the sun. Maybe she did. Or, maybe, she herself was the sun. Warm, comforting, so bright, even if she herself didn’t believe so. She could burn people, and tried her hardest to do so. She could never burn them, not even when she tried. They scooted closer to her, in an attempt to silence their teeth chattering and stop their fingers from freezing off the bone. She just laughed at them, in that beautifully animated way she always does. In that contagious way of hers, forcing them to laugh too.
“Hey, Suz. I’ve got a really bad idea,” Susie looked at them incredulously, “my dad leaves his spare keys in his truck. Wanna go for a ride?” Kris didn’t need to tell her what they knew was coming tomorrow. They just didn’t.
“You can drive? And just decided not to tell me? We could’ve been driving this whole time?!” She sat up, totally offended that this never came up before. “Like, actually seriously get behind a wheel with a license and drive?” By this point, she was grabbing their shoulders and shaking slightly.
“We’re sixteen, man. Driving is not a crazy thought,” Kris pointed out as they pulled out their wallet from their back pocket. “I got my license as soon as I could, the last thing I was gonna do was stick around in that house while both my dad and my brother were moving out.” They handed her the license, and silently watched as she examined the thing like checking for a fake.
“Oh, wipe that look off your face! Looking so damn smug… Little shit. Sorry I rightfully assumed your mom would never in a million billion gajillion years let you drive. I mean— can you even see over the steering wheel? No offense and all, but you’re kinda short, dude.” She made a motion with her hand that was apparently supposed to be Kris’s height, despite the fact that it was at least 6 inches shorter than their actual height.
Snatching the ID back, they glared at her, as though she had actually done something seriously wrong and not just teased them about their height. “Fine then, you don’t wanna go anywhere, we can just sit here for the rest of the night and do nothing. Since apparently you wanna be an ass about this.” Sixth thing for their bucket list? Get taller. In three days.
Susie sat up fast, panicking over the sudden freedoms being revoked, “hey now. Let’s be reasonable about this.” Suddenly there was a hand on Kris’s shoulder, while she made a stupid face at them. “Will the truck be unlocked…?”
Kris nodded, knowing their dad hasn’t locked his truck since their kindergarten graduation. They started pulling her in the direction of The Flower King, hoping that he was asleep and his truck was behind the store. Please, Angel, let them have one good thing before Tuesday. They fidgeted with their earrings on the way there, pretending there wasn’t their mom’s voice in the back of their head, scolding them for tearing their earlobe out.
Kris Dreemurr’s death day is in like, 30 hours and all they can think about is tearing their earlobe. What the hell is wrong with them.
“So… Kris, where’re we going? What’s even open at this time of night?” That one makes them stop. What is open right now? Nothing. Nothing is open right now.
Kris’ mouth opened several times, attempting to come up with any words at all. Finally, they allowed two words to tumble out of their mouth, “…Taco Bell.”
They kept walking to Dad’s store, his massive freaking truck managed to be visible before his literal store. …Maybe they couldn’t see over the steering wheel. Angel, first it’s so late at night you can hardly see the lines, now they’re driving some Ford that takes up two lanes. Scratch dying on Tuesday, they’re dying today in a car accident with a passenger they’re not legally allowed to have in the car yet. Holy shit they’re gonna kill Susie. Well that’s nice to have on their conscience!
When they reached the truck, they wondered if it even still ran. The thing was ancient, definitely older than both Kris and Azzy. Hell, maybe even older than Dad. They climbed (and very literally climbed) into the driver’s seat anyways.
They were digging around in the glove box for the spare key as Susie clamored into the passenger’s seat. Pulling the key out of the compartment, they heard the click of her seatbelt. The “vintage” vehicle made a worrying sound as Kris turned it on, wincing when it groaned loudly.
Kris pulled their wallet out of their pocket again, counting the cash within it. “I have two dollars cash and twelve on my Cashapp.” The seat had the same texture as their wallet.
Susie pulled cash out of—somewhere. Where the hell did she even get that? “Six bucks let’s freaking go!” She shoved the six dollars all in ones into Kris’s face. Collectively they had $20. Which could get them two Crunchwrap Supremes… That sounded so good right now…
Kris Dreemurr is to die next week and all they will have eaten is pie, chocolate milk, hot cocoa, and Taco Bell. What a way to go. At least it’s with Susie. They hoped she’d mourn them, at least a little. Even though they’re actually an awful friend who’s actively betraying her and is just gonna die on her. Maybe, just maybe, she’d mourn them. She wasn’t mourning them right now. Instead she was turned around, watching as they backed out of the driveway.
See, they were coming to terms with it.
The truck continued to make a concerning noise the whole drive, getting louder every time Kris turned. Susie laughed at the rumbles, teasing them like it was their stomach rather than the car. She knew it was the car. She just hated them. They vocalized this thought, claiming in a deadpan voice something about starving and dying. That one managed to piss her off, complaining that they always used that excuse when she’d say something they didn’t like. Kris just laughed, finding themself far lighter than they were sneaking out the window.
They were really hoping they remembered where the Taco Bell was, since they left their phone on their bedroom floor, and was far too embarrassed to ask Susie for hers. In hindsight, they wished they brought their phone. Yeah, no, Kris would definitely not have the bravery to whip out a GPS in front of Susie, but maybe they’d have some music. The radio in Dad’s truck didn’t work, but the aux cord did. and right now, that was what was really needed.
They should probably just thug out asking Susie to put some music on. But she was smiling, breathing slow and steady, and had a glimmer in her eye they hadn’t seen from her since the Card Kingdom. They couldn’t take that away from her. The smile that showed all of her teeth and met her eyes and caused a sort of flush on her cheeks and created wrinkles under her eyes that squinted them in the sweetest way and—holy shit they haven’t been watching the road.
The road. The road was ending. Sort of. It was blocked off with caution tape, lines of yellow and black wrapped around the trees surrounding the thoroughfare. They squinted at the tape, trying to remember what Mrs. Holiday had said it was for. Or maybe it was Officer Undyne who’d said something? If Kris couldn’t even remember who said what, they were totally screwed on the what.
“What if we. Drove through the tape.” She was also squinting at the tape, although rather than trying to figure out what was said, she wanted to get through. Which was probably what Kris should’ve been doing. Hey, in their defense, they’re dying soon. Let them not think that hard. Mrs. Holiday was going to murder them. They were going to die twice.
They felt the accelerator give way under their foot, and Kris is pretty sure they felt their heart drop. They heard Susie laugh next to them, lifting a weight off their shoulders. The engine gave this sort of dying sound as it picked up speed. They winced and tore through the caution tape like a finish line. Or, rather, a starting line.
Kris’ stomach growled as they took a left they weren’t sure of in the slightest.