Papyrus Pictures Undertale Novels & Stories

“I was going to say that we are going to try to track down the witch tomorrow.” “Because the address you have is so trustworthy?” “No, because of this.” Cade tossed a bloody notebook at my feet. Putting the useless coffee on the tablet, I reached for the notebook. Pictures of a woman scattered the pages. She was shopping in one. Buying fruit in another. Sticking her head out of a window, and picking something out of the earth. Each one had a location and time with a date. “Is this Tina?” There was one picture she looked like she was looking into the lense… into my soul. “It is, or at least what she looked like then.”

Away from the roar of our bike carrying someone else. My journal lies on the table. I flip it open, letting my pen hover, searching for refuge in words, in sketches, in anything but him. The lines blur, my thoughts spill but it isn’t enough. By late afternoon, a soft knock breaks my trance. “Princess?” Ursula steps in, shy but eager, clutching a folded sketch. “May I?” Her eyes shine the way mine used to when Paris was still new to me. I wave her closer, and when she unfolds the paper, I forget myself for a moment.

The pics changes from time to time. To be continued.

Rose thought to herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to walk back but paused very quickly as soon as her eyes landed on the shiny bus stop sign. On one side was a sales advertisement for a mall and on the other side was an advertisement for electronic products. The one in the middle, however, was a huge cartoon picture. 'Under the pear tree is the promise of three lifetimes.' This picture... Wasn't that Space University?

Penny turned to me, her smile fading into something serious and determined. “Consider this play… our key to solving part of the puzzy.” My mouth went dry. Something told me we were about to unlock secrets much deeper than I ever imagined.

Technology is an incredible thing, and if you have the right equipment, you can do more with it than people realise. Sitting the iPad down, I opened the box, and it was full of paper, only one thing for it, so I tipped everything out. Looking through it was mind-numbing as mostly everything was paperwork that meant nothing to me until I found a photo album. It only had a few photos, but they were of Caleb outside the same cabin as the other pictures and one of him down by some water. I hope these are at the same place. In one of the images, I could see letters in the background ‘USE’; it’s either part of a word, or it could be the actual word.

It was embarrassing. Sire said nothing though. He just let me do what I wanted to do or rather still, he was uninterested since what he had to tell me was more important. Then he brought out his iPad and swiped through some pictures in his gallery till he got to a particular picture and then stopped. Then he showed it to me. I stretched a little further so I could be closer to him and to enhance my ability to see the picture. It was a picture consisting of a sheet of paper and a quill and a few scribblings on the paper. Then there was a bold writing by the side, which read;

Taran Harker is a liar. I can't stand to look at the albums anymore. I return them to their box and move on. It's not until three boxes later that I discover one more photograph, and it's entirely an accident. I'm pulling some leather-bound notebooks out of their cardboard prison when something flutters from between the pages of one and lands next to my knees. A picture. I pick it up and flip it over. It's a picture of a baby, but not any that I recognize. Certainly not me or Louisa.

Xavier still hadn’t moved, but I could feel the storm in him, pulling closer. And then, before I could catch my breath, Taylor’s phone buzzed. Hard. She glanced down, frowned. “Skyla… you need to see this.” She turned the screen toward me. It wasn’t news. Not Carl. Not another smear. It was a photo. A grainy picture of a boy no older than twelve, holding a piece of paper. A drawing. Crude lines of charcoal, but the face was clear enough. My face. Hair wild, eyes fierce. A girl standing in the middle of fire, unburned.

She could remember posing in them before for one of her boyfriends and the pictures of that little photoshoot she still kept in her scrapbook. Her still-warm panties found a place in the box and were buried again as she sat and dug deeper. She touched the soft leathery corner of her personal scrapbook. "Gotcha!" she pulled out the small tome and set it onto her lap. The plain cover hid the pages and pages of pictures Tara had found in her explorations into the darker side of the internet.