(I WANTED TO WRITE MORE BUT I WROTE TOO MUCH FOR THE FIRST PART AAAAAAAA)
Wilson woke up in a panic. Where was he? As he sat up, he remembered Maxwell and wondered if it had just been a dream. Looking around, he realized it wasn't a dream. As he calmed down, he looked at the bed sheets. They were a cream color. He vaguely wondered if it was cream when he had fallen asleep.
His bed was completely messed up, and the sheets were warm. Wilson realized he must have been thrashing around in his sleep. Stretching, he looked around the room to see if anything had changed. His eyes locked on something on the wall. And he stared back.
A mirror! He hadn't seen a mirror in… Oh, how long! He stood up, his legs aching, and approached the mirror, smoothing his hair and smiling widely. He looked disgusting, but he still liked to look at himself. The shape of his face and the color of his pale skin incapacitated him. His hair had somehow stayed nearly the same from the last time he saw it, which was surely impossible.
Wilson saw a movement at the back of the room, reflecting off the mirror. Turning around, he saw it was a dark purple smoke cloud. As the cloud drifted apart, Maxwell's shape replaced it. Wilson glared at the man, remembering what he had done, and how he had made Wilson never look at a mirror again (there are no mirrors in the wild).
"Hi, Maxwell." Wilson said solemnly. "What do you want?" Maxwell's grin made Wilson irrationally angry.
"Well, I felt like you should notice the changes in the room and thank me." He closed his eyes, waiting for Wilson to say something. Wilson thought for a moment. Yes, he had noticed the mirror. But, Maxwell said 'changes', clearly not 'change'. Change?
Looking down, Wilson realized he was wearing a completely different shirt. It was like his previous shirt, but a more lively shade of red and clear from dirt and mud. Wilson's face lit up bright red.
"What! Did you change my shirt while I was sleeping?!" Wilson asked in horrified voice. The idea of Maxwell touching him in any way was already disturbing, considering his bony, bony hands and lanky body, but taking his shirt off, too? Wilson almost fainted.
"Yes, I also changed the bed sheets. You need to take a bath, Higgsbury." Wilson squinted at the man, still blushing bright red. First he undressed Wilson, and then he insulted him, too!
"You should tell me before you touch me, ever, and I could have done it myself!" Wilson scoffed, turning away, still blushing. He was both disgusting and disturbed by Maxwell touching him while he slept. Maxwell waved his hand dismissively.
"Eh. I'll be going now." He said, and smoothed out his shirt. Wilson watched the man leave, his blush finally fading from his face, and he felt calm again. 'What a jerk…' he thought.
Other than the new mirror and bed sheets, everything in the room was the same, except for the food on his wardrobe. This time, there was a bowl of soup and what appeared to be an off brand soda. Grabbing the soup and sitting on the bed, Wilson ate and finished quickly. Wilson was starting to get used to the feeling of being full. He hesitantly grabbed the soda. Reading the ingredients, it seemed like any other soda, and he started chugging it down.
Wincing, he could tell that this soda was incredibly cheap. Wilson didn't even recognize the brand. But, having a carbonated, sugary substance did make him feel a little better. Deciding to do something with his life, he left the room, leaving behind the bowl and soda can for Maxwell to clean up.
Entering the hallway, he searched his memory to find out where he was. If he remembered correctly, he thought as he walked to the end of the corridor… He was correct! The hallway split into two more hallways. Last time, he had gone right and managed to get into some sort of relaxing room, and then to the dining room. So, he went left.
After a short walk, he found his way into what appeared to be a study room. There were bookcases pressed upon the walls (which were dark blue). Books of many colors and different genres were placed in some sort of order that Wilson didn't understand. On one of the sides of the room there was a desk. It had parts where there was dust and parts where the desk was completely clean. Wilson knew from experience that that was a sign Maxwell had been working on papers and had them on the desk for a bit too long.
A dark purple light was positioned to light up the dark part of the desk. Wilson saw that it had no cords and wondered how it worked. Above the actual desk, there was a compartment that seemed to hold papers and pencils. Standing on his toes, he grabbed a few pieces of paper and essentially ruined the paper stack, before grabbing a pencil and pen.
Sitting down at the desk and placing the paper on it seemed to activate the light, which let Wilson see the paper clearly. Grabbing the pencil, he put it over the paper and wondered what he should draw. After a few moments, he decided on monsters that he had seen in Maxwell's world.
After a long time, in which Wilson didn't remember clearly, he had drawn a tallbird, but was having trouble with the legs. Stretching, he looked at the picture he had. It looked like some sort of cartoon character, but drawn really realistically, because that's basically what a tallbird had put most effort into the eye, trying to convey that 'I want to kill you' look, but he personally wouldn't know what it looked like (because Wilson is a sweetie).
Wilson tried to draw the legs quickly, and they looked scratchy, but it worked out. Taking out his black pen, he outlined all the important parts, the beak, legs, face, ect., and put on some terrible shading. It was unprofessional and made hastily with the pencil, but it was good enough.
Carefully, Wilson grabbed the paper in both his hands, moved it to the back of the desk, and grabbed a new paper. Putting the pencil to the paper, he thought for a moment, and then started to draw. In a few moments, he had the chest and head of the werepig. It's mouth was open, showing the large teeth which Wilson knew way too much on how they felt when they bit you. Then, he drew the body, the large claws meant for tearing flesh and the powerful legs that would push them forwards. Wilson tried his best to make the anatomy work, but it still looked a little wonky. He wasn't an artist, he was a scientist!
But, he tried his best to draw different monsters, knowing what they looked like, and highlighting their weapons. Looking at all his drawings (a tallbird, a werepig, two hounds, a rabbit, and a beefalo), Wilson heard a noise. He turned and saw that Maxwell had entered the room.
"Hey, pal, what are you doing here?" Maxwell asked, approaching Wilson. He looked at the drawing of the hound. "Oh, that beast. I remember that one."Wilson's head tilted.
"You know about the hounds?" Wilson asked, looking at the picture. It would make sense. It was Maxwell's world, and he had to populate it with something. Maxwell nodded.
"Yes, but I fear that it has been so long that they have forgotten me as their master." Humming, he grabbed the picture of the tallbird. "This one. An experiment I had… It didn't work out too well."
"What were you trying to do?" Wilson asked. Experiments were right up his alley!
"I tried to make a very large bird. Unfortunately, its eyes and legs grew too much, and it's body changed to support that, which is why it's only an eye and legs. Territorial beasts, aren't they?" Wilson was a bit disappointed that it was a magic experiment, not a science experiment, and he looked back at the drawings.
"I call them tall birds." Wilson said.
"A fitting name." Maxwell replied, nodding. Wilson grabbed the beefalo picture. Maxwell scoffed.
"Useless animals, those beefalo. The only thing they do is eat." He said in an almost disgusted voice. Wilson looked at Maxwell.
"Really? How about the four times I've died by beefalo?" Maxwell glared back at him.
"How did you get killed by those lazy animals?" Maxwell asked.
"Okay, they don't attack unless you attack them. Which I learned the hard way. I also learned that they go into heat sometimes." Maxwell nodded.
"Well. Either you're just very stupid. or they've become at least a bit
dangerous." Realizing that Maxwell had called him stupid, Wilson opened his mouth to object, and then closed it as he realized he was probably right.
"Of course I'm stupid! I've never seen beefalo. I've never read anything about beefalo. I'm expected to be stupid, so stop acting like it's a bad thing." Wilson snapped at Maxwell. Maxwell paused for a moment.
"When did I say it was a bad thing? Stupid is just a harsher way of telling someone they don't know something, and I say everything in a harsh manner." Maxwell mused, and Wilson realized that, yes, Maxwell never really said it in a bad manner.
"It still sounded rude…" He muttered, putting the beefalo picture back onto the table.
"Well, sorry, pal. Not everyone's going to treat you like a king." Maxwell scoffed, and then started to leave the room. Wilson, watching him leave, stretched before exiting the room a bit behind him. He split off in some different direction that Wilson didn't care to pay attention to, and found his room quickly.
Nothing in the room looked as if it had changed to Wilson except for the food on his wardrobe. There was half a steak and some sort of vegetable that Wilson didn't recognize. Next to that, there was a glass of milk. Wilson quickly drank the milk and half the steak and a few of the vegetables before laying down in the bed, feeling safe and warm.