Endsong for the Nameless

[Napstablook killed Frisk and absorbed their soul.
A story about his solo adventures outside the barrier.]

It was just an accident.

Napstablook floated towards an unknown destination, paying no real attention where he was going. It was hard to see through the veil of fleeting ghost tears and yet their presence just upset him more than anything. These tears had once been just a sign of his moodiness, his sad outlook on everyday life. Instead, they were now all malicious and evil, every last one of them.

Never before did he realize just how dangerous those tears could be.

He sped up a little, floating right over and across several areas of the Underground, some of which he normally rarely ventured to. Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotlands and even New Home all passed by without him even noting much about them. A little cold, a little wet, a little hot; they all just blended into the crushing guilt.

He couldn't get the cry out of his head. The acidic sizzling was barely audible even in that horrid silence, as the tears kept eating through the cute little sweater. He was sure the human meant no harm, yet he was so wrapped up in his own little world of moping, that the tears just kept flooding. And as they kept flowing, so did they bite and scar that brilliant red SOUL the human had, till it could barely pulse with the faintest light.

When Napstablook raised his head to look at them, the last little tear in the corner of his eye was enough to drain that last bit of HP they had left.

The ghost rushed past New Home and was briefly overwhelmed by a tickling sensation. It was almost like he had skin, actual skin that could tingle and tickle and feel all prickly. Colors melded and twisted over his half-closed eyes, but the sensation passed by as quickly as it came. All he could feel was a strange warmth coming from the sky, of all places.

The SOUL was very pretty, even in its damaged state. It slowly floated away from the child, maimed and cracked, ready to burst into a million pieces. Napstablook stopped tearing only to look at that SOUL, to really observe it for just a couple moment. It was tiny, frail and innocent--and he had torn it away from the human. The pang of guilt was immediate and crushing. It burned through even his ghost body, tearing into his own SOUL. He couldn't just leave it there, to just let it fade into nothing.

He took the SOUL.

He took what they once were and made them part of him.

He felt vile.

The Surface was both everything and nothing like Napstablook could have ever imagined. The buildings were weird, the humans were weird, the air was strange, the sun was bright and there was so much to look at. His mind reeled at the thought that this is what the child had left behind, the place they could never return to, even if they tried. The ghost's heart, no, SOUL burned with power and a distinct lack of comfort. Ignoring whether any human could see him at all, he flew straight towards an oddly-shaped building, concentrating on nothing, but the images of various instruments plastered all over it.

The interior was dark, though the darkness didn't really matter much to the ghost. Light and dark were just words, they could see everything. It was disconcerting, but also highly useful. Because of that, he could quickly identify that he was floating right into the middle of a stage. He had seen many on Mettaton's shows, but never found it in himself to try or even really look at a stage long enough to consider performing. After all, his only debatable talent was--

Napstablook let out a brief whine, feeling their SOUL pulsing through their ghost body. As weird as it was to imagine, much less comprehend it, he could still sense the child. Hidden beneath layers of magic, there was some strange presence, the trickling essence of a human. They were gone and yet they were here with him. Still smiling, still offering a kind word or two and still alive.

In a manner of speaking.

Violins, cellos, harps, tubas, cymbals, a piano even; all of them were almost within reach, carefully arranged around the stage. Perhaps there was a show planned later for the day. Although the Underground rarely attempted anything even distantly resembling an orchestra, Napstablook could easily deduce the purpose of this place. It was a whole grand stage designed just so humans could listen to music. He suddenly wasn't even sure these were his thoughts, or fleeting memories of the child, but it mattered little.

The majesty of this place was palpable with or without the looming guilt of murder.

Napstablook sighed and looked around once more. His mind, body and SOUL were all alive, in a sense, and buzzing. Was it still sadness? Guilt? Or was it another effect of the SOUL he had taken; a sudden influx of something he never cared about before and yet now had more than he could possible imagine.

Power. Power to do anything and everything. Everything except fix the mistake that gave him this power in the first place.

The ghost sighed, tears almost welling up in his eyes again, before he heard the faint, but unmistakable sound of a piano. He rose into the air, startled by the unexpected noise and darted around with their gaze. Despite how big the place was, there wasn't a single human to be found anywhere near. The piano played the note on its own.

Or perhaps it had a little help.

Napstablook closed an eye briefly, trying to concentrate this time around. Part of him wanted to just flee, before any human could potentially see him, but another side he couldn't even really identify wanted to stay. It wanted to try. Was it really him at all? It mattered little.

The concentration paid off as the note echoed across the hall again. The monster didn't even need to approach the instrument, to play it. The revelation was exciting and alarming; scary and exhilarating. All throughout his life he had trouble concentrating on just one thing, and yet now, the pleasant pulsing within his SOUL, their SOUL, suggested he could do even more than that. More than ever before.

"human?"

There was no answer.

"are you there? or are you here?"

The SOUL, the combined beautifully powerful SOUL burned brightly. Bright red mixed with white, it lent Napstablook an amusing light shade.

"human, d-did... do you like music?"

The instruments wobbled and slowly rose into the air, positioning themselves around the moody, but suddenly very determined ghost. Tubas, trumpets, harps and cymbals all corrected their angle, violins carefully tested their strings, regular and kettle drums twirled their sticks in preparation. Even the piano took a brief trip into the air along with them. It barely weighed anything. Dozens of them joined up, some summoned straight from the darkest depths of storage rooms.

All followed the will and wish of one sad, but perhaps not-so-lonesome little ghost monster.

"this song w-will be... 'nameless', because i never learned yours..." His words found no answer besides an echo. An echo of his voice and an oddly soft warmth emanating from his SOUL. "so please... let this be your song."

And with that, the Haunted Orchestra began its first concert.