Something slithered up the side of Sans's soul and he shuddered, his mind blanking. He could feel the sharpened point of the vine moving into position. The vine brushing some of his ribs when it backed away slightly, and the edge of the vine only lightly pressing onto his soul, the intent to harm practically bleeding out and making his vulnerable soul pulse more, mimicking a frantic heartbeat pounding inside of Sans chest in anticipation.

The voice spoke again, and Sans was vaguely aware that it was addressing him this time. Sans clenched his hands into fists as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

"LET US SEE HOW FUNNY YOU ARE, WITH A CRACK DOWN THE CENTER OF YOUR SOUL."

There was a small bit of pressure for a couple seconds, until he felt whatever flesh his soul was made out of give way and Sans screamed in agony. A heart-rending scream that ripped through the Judgement Hall and echoing off paned windows and its vast chamber. One that neither Frisk nor even the Forgotten had expected coming from Sans, his voice normally so quiet.

No, this was a full-blown, shrill, throat-tearing scream of pure agony, like someone being sliced cleanly in two, that ripped down the once golden Hall like shattered glass. Its suddenness gave it a very surreal, ghost-like quality. It sounded like it could be heard even all the way down in Hotland. Sans head snapped backwards, as he suddenly felt the pointed, sharpened point of the vine digging its way into the center of his soul agonizingly slow, twisting around as it dug in, ensuring Sans would feel the pain.

The Forgotten's gaze, through Flowey's eyes, never left Sans face, enjoying every moment of his senseless terror and pain, stabbing through his soul as they kept him strung up. The vine digging deeper, burying itself into his soul.

Sans sucked in a breath, choking in agony, as he let out even more screams, his body attempting to curl forward, and effectively lifting his feet entirely off the floor, as he tried clawing at the vine holding his wrists together in an effort to get them free, to dislodge the vine threatening to split his soul in half. His feet flailing and kicking about, no longer having any coordination. The Forgotten let out a chuckle, rewarding Sans by shoving the vine in even deeper, grin unnaturally wide as blood, or Sans own strange, mysterious version of it, soaked a splatter around the vines penetration, as some droplets leaked between Sans teeth as he continued to scream.

Torturously, he could feel as if his very existence was being shattered, a vine forcing its way through its center, trying to cleave the organ of his essence slowly in two. The entire world as he knew it fell away, replaced with only a searing white agony instead. Sans vision had turned white, his mind reeling from the violent rolling waves of intent. He felt himself being carried deep into his own consciousness, his mind separated from his body-he couldn't even feel it anymore.

Tears gathered in Sans sockets as he continued to writhe and scream in agony but completely helpless and at the mercy of the one holding his shattered wrists high above his skull. Oh, how he wished he could simply fall to the floor and dust away, to finally let sweet, blessed darkness take his body and soul, but the Forgotten wouldn't let him, keeping him on a tightrope of life and death as he felt the very core of his being violated. Sans let out a violent, embarrassingly loud sob rip from his throat, wet and despairing as he choked again on another scream for mercy. As more droplets escaped between his teeth, his voice ran ragged with no end in sight.

The scream tore from him every ounce of air and voice that he had, only for him to pause, and drag in a very frantic half-breath and continue onwards as he felt the vine twist, pulling and tugging and digging in deeper, and deeper and deeper. The vine drew out all of Sans energy at once through his tip, replacing it with a horrible, void-like emptiness within Sans chest and bones. Cold. Ice, ice cold.

When will this end?! He just wanted to die, please let him die already! If he died, this could all be over, PLEASE!

Frisk watched, horrified as the vines closed in around her friend's soul, watching helplessly as the tiny organ began to crack from being stabbed as Sans's face screwed up with agony and he let out blood curdling screams. She knew that this had to stop. What this demon was making Flow- no, Asriel do...It was wrong beyond just the simple law of morality. A monster's soul was not meant to be forced and cracked open like this, to be maimed and tortured by a creature that only wanted to harm.

Frisk could feel the glee and excitement that the Forgotten felt through the vines that held her hostage and she knew she had to do something to get him to stop, Frisk felt her determination soar through her, only for a moment, as she tugged with all the strength her 9 year old body could muster, but still, she just couldn't get her arms freed no matter what she did or how much determination she called upon to try and help her friend.

All she could do was watch helplessly as Sans was tortured for her, until she gave up...