Chapter 3

Blue, blinding light was the first thing that Wilson saw. Confusion hit him like a wave; What had just happened? He couldn't quite bring the memory back; all that Wilson knew was that everything hurt. His bones ached, his back stung like fire as the blue color refused to leave him alone. There also was a pounding pressure in his head that made his temples feel like they were going to explode. The world suddenly blurred; blue, black and white fusing together, making his stomach churn. Wilson squeezed his eyes shut, sweat relief filling him when the mess disappeared, giving him a moment of peace to try and grasp his lost memories.

Again, he slowly tried to open his eyes, a coursed groan escaping his lips when the blur of blue return. He pushed through it, blinking quickly to clear his sight. After painful minutes passed the lights began to still, and the shape of an enormous blue mushroom glowing above him can into focus.

Wilson slumped back onto the cold, rough ground, trying hard to regain control of his shaky breathing. He remained as still as possible, every gasp, ever shudder bringing with it a new wave of agony. He found himself fixated on the mushroom, the thing bringing with it the horrible realization of where he was.

The Caves. He had fallen down a hole; yes, it was coming back to him now. He'd fallen down into the dark, into the caverns bellow this world. A shudder of fear ran through him, making him wince as it twisted his aching muscles. Of all the places the caves were the last place he wanted to be stuck in. In the dark the shadows were great, the monsters stronger and deadlier and the terrors within even more unknown. Unlike the world above, the darkness was all the time, far more dangerous than anything above ground.

No, this was bad! His breath hitched, arms shaking as he dragged himself up. It took all his left-over strength just to sit up. Dizziness filled his head and to his surprise, a warm trail ran down his face. Muddled he touched the stuff, pulling his fingers away to see the dripping drops of maroon on his fingertips. Alarm gripped him, fumbling for his axe as his old madness snuck it's claws into him.

The darkness crept closer, invisible hands in the dark reaching out to take a hold of him, making him drag himself to the base of the mushroom. This couldn't end like this, he couldn't have struggled this long only to die from a stupid mistake! Bring on the darkness and the shadows and the demons and the bats, he thought. They had no idea who they were dealing with! With his knowledge and science at his mercy, he would smite them all, bring them to their knees like he had before, tear the fabric of their being into the dust piece by molecule piece. He would destroy them, rip them apart, They would not break him, He would break Them! -

And just like a switch had been pulled by some unknown force, his mind clicked back into place. A long sigh escaped him, the insanity returning to the deep recesses of his mind. Hidden deep away and forgotten.

"Keep it together Wilson, you can do this."

His voice echoed out, causing him to pause, waiting to see if the sound would summon the monsters. But nothing came.

Using the axe to prop himself up, Wilson wiped away as much of the blood as he could, looking up at the mushroom above. It had clearly had broken his fall, thank Newton. If it hadn't been underneath he dreaded how worse his injuries would has been. But then, it left him with more questions than answers. Why had there been a hole up on the surface? He had been so sure that all entrances had been sealed, even going so far as to warn the others in case they accidentally mined one open. So why on earth had there been an entryway, and so close to their campsite? None of the others had come down here; the fact that no rope dangled from the roof was proof of that. Then if the others hadn't made it, who had?

Had it been her? Was this trap to lure him to his doom. Slowly, gently, he stood, leaning heavily on his axe for support. Looking around the small patches of light, it was clear something had been through before him. Broken pieces of rock scattered about the ground, scratches, and signs that something had raged through here not too long ago. One of the oddest things that Wilson spotted in the dim light was a group of dark puddles, making it appear that there were missing parts of the ground. He hobbled to one, confirming his suspicions that it was a liquid; a dark, ink-like substance that was sticky and warm to the touch. Where the black puddles part of her doing? It was like she had sent her shadowed hands to claw the very stone away, forming the hole for him.

He took a risk. Swaying he tried to stand tall, back as straight as the pain would allow. He couldn't show her any fear. It would mean his end if he did. " Are you there Charlie!?" he called out into the darkness, breath misting from the cold. " If this is your idea of separating me from them, then this is a poor excuse of a plan! You hear me Charlie!"

Wilson waited for a reply, a sign; even for her to appear before him in a burst of smoke and shadow. To hear her evil hiss he'd had come to fear. But his voice merely faded away, leaving him alone. It unnerved him, the lack of repose. Like she already deemed him a waste of her time. And besides the calm he was trying to display, the fear was creeping back. If his memory was still true, he had left an opening way back at his original camp. But that site was hundreds, if not thousands of miles away. And he was under-geared, injured, and unprepared to traverse the caves.

In all likeliness, he would be dead in the first few days.

His only hope was Woodie; if he survived the Treeguard that is. He could go get help once they learned he hadn't returned. With some rope and a little teamwork, he'd be out of here in a jiffy.

The only problem, he thought miserably, was that by the time they got themselves organized enough to work together, he'd be nothing more than a skeleton.

No, he was on his own. Just like the good old days, only his brain and his problem-solving wit to get him out of his dilemmas. He bent down slowly to take off his heavy backpack to take a quick stock of his items. He had enough food for three days, and plenty of touches. He had some rope, his axe and plenty of flowers for a garland if needed-

Tap, Tap, Tap.

Wilson froze, the loud tapping noise catching him off guard. The sound went again, impossible to pinpoint from the echoing cave. He'd never heard such a noise before, like empty cups being hit together. There was scrapping sound, a heavy thing being dragged sluggishly along. He tensed as the unmistakable noise of claws clicked against the stone, swinging his backpack back into place as his mind raced with theories.

"Who's there?"

The tapping replied, this time a deep gurgle chugging with it. It was unmistakably a living creature, another monster of the caves that Wilson had yet to discover. Axe in hand he moved back to the safety of the mushroom. Quickly he kept scanning the shadows, a defense plan forming in his head in case a fight ensued.

Finally, movement came from the darkness. In front of Wilson a single, wicked paw landed gently in the light with a click, pausing like it too was wary of him. The gurgling came, threatening and low as it slowly emerged into Wilson's sight. What he saw first confused him, for what looked like a long, pointed shell, dripping black ooze. But when it's head fully appeared he realized in horror it was a huge, serrated beak, connected to a head covered in a mane of feathers. It locked him with a piece gaze, white eyes burning into him. It stepped gradually into the clearing, it's thin, feathered body dragged out into the open as it's dark feathers gave off a purply-blue shine in the mushroom's light.

Wilson had yet to see a monster quite like this. He tried to group it with any of the other monsters he'd seen, the hounds, the Beefalo, even the long-legged birds in the north, but nothing stuck. The thing was like a mash of them all; a carnivore build at the size of a Beefalo. It hobbled to the side, it's muscles rippling as it padded over the rocks, sniffing the air. The tapping began again, coming from its beak as it slapped them together in a quick chatter. Its body unexpectedly seemed to grow, doubling in size. Wilson realized the cause was that on its back were a massive pair of wings, tightly fitted to its back that unless it moved then he couldn't see them tucked away.

Back now touching the mushroom's trunk Wilson raised his axe a little higher, pushing down his worry to focus. Charlie had most likely sent it to finish him off once and for all in the most pathetic, painful way possible. And following the evidence, it was probably the one that had even made the hole above, for it would explain the lack of rope. From the way it prowled towards him cautiously, he was doubtful he'd last long in a confrontation with it. What was worse, there was so little space to fight in, the blue mushroom was creating a tiny zone of sanctuary. Chances for his survival was falling fast if he fought it one on one.

It was then, as the monster moved ever closer, that Wilson saw the injury on its neck. Deep claw-marks were raked through its neck and chest, which were still dripping black blood, giving him a ray of hope. If he struck them with his axe, he could down the beast. He was sure of it. It would all fall to timing and a hell of a lot of luck, hoping that he didn't get devoured in the process.

Palms sweating on the axe's handle, Wilson backed bit by bit from the safety of the light, eyes locked in terror as the thing lurched towards him. Skimming the border of the shadows, he raised the axe higher over his head, trying to appear as large and as threatening as possible. The thing clicked its jagged jaws, hissing towards him slow and calculated. He knew it was about to strike, its neck aching up. On the balls of his feet, a thin trail of sweat running down his check, Wilson waited to dodge, praying he'd make it in time.

In seconds the thing struck, Wilson barely able to twist away in time. Dropped low he felt as well as heard as the beast slammed into the mushroom truck, scythe claws scratching for grip. Wilson looped around, and with an unsteady roar, swung the axe down. To his delight the blade connected, digging deep into the wound just like he'd planned. The beast screeched it pain, its body twisting violently and so suddenly that he just had time to moved out of the way of its torso. He tumbled to the ground, knee scrapping as his head rung. The giddy spell returned, his mind ponding like a hammer as his vision darkened. But the danger at hand made him shake off the pain, tightening his grip on the now slick handle.

The beast twisted around the mushroom with a hiss, slinking in and out of the shadows. It charged and he ducked out of the way again, hearing the loud snap of its beak brushed passed his head. Rolling, careful not to drop the axe, he swung again; but this time instead of connecting to the wound, the blade thudded against its beak. There was an almighty clang! His arm thrown back by the force as his whole body shook from the shockwave. The beasts own head jerked back, but it recovered fast from the blow, blocking his path with a heavy paw as it dived towards him. Wilson's heart jumped in his throat, sliding under the gap in its legs as he tried to get away before the beast crushed him in its jaws. He tripped on his shoes, crashing to the ground as a heavy back paw thudded next to his head. The beast hissed, rearing up and Wilson gasped, panic rising as he saw in horror the thing leer back, it now in the perfect position to strike. Almost making himself get up due to the aching in his body, Wilson swayed over the hard stone just as the beak smashed into the stone, mere inches to where he just was.

It was now or never. He knew he wouldn't be able to continue this much longer, what with the drumming thundering in his head. He had to strike now before the thing could hit him. Dragging the blade up he swung one last time, pulling it above his head, aiming the axe home. Finally, it struck hard enough to stagger the beast, the creature snarling as it's legs buckled underneath it from the grave blow. He pulled the axe out, an uncontainable grin forming before he could stop himself, insanity covering his mind like a veil. Yes, now this was more like it. No more weakly cowering in fear at every terror in the dark, this was more like it! He hoped that she was watching this, sending such a creature to attack him, him! Did Charlie really think that some injured, pathetic beast could destroy him? She had to be mad…madder.

In the edges of his vision he could see them; the shadows, their eyes glowing white in the caverns, edging him on. They were whispering in his ear, laughing, telling him what he should do. What he had to do. He smirked wickedly back. Yes, he'd bring the axe down again, and again, and again. Till the beast was gone. Then he'd study it, dissect it, learn every little-hidden secret from it to better his own research-

Wilson gasped in shock, the axe sliding from his grasp. It clanged to the ground, deafening in the muffled silence of the cave as he backed away. The abrupt agony that flooded into his head made him sick to his stomach, gripping his skull in the hope to crush Them out.

"Get o-out… Get out!" He snarled, tugging at his hair. He needed his garland, needed his tent, needed to get out of this darn cave before they tugged him to close to the edge-

He'd all but forgotten the beast, the thing jumping up before Wilson even registered his mistake. Like lightning the creature lashed out at him, one of its large clawed paws slamming Wilson onto the rock. He gasped, all the air from his lungs whooshing out as the creature applied its hefty weight onto his chest. A flash of white crossed his vision as a burning pain shot through his arm. One of the long scythe-like claws spearing his right shoulder and trapped him on the floor. Huffing, Wilson twisted his body the best he could, hoping to spot his fallen axe, but it was nowhere in sight. The beast gurgled low, it's sharp beak edging closer as it strengthened the pressure.

It dawned on Wilson that he couldn't breathe, the blue light around him turning grey. In a feeble attempt, he tried to pry the paw off with his good arm, but it was a worthless act. Everything was disappearing, the light headiness of his brain making the world spin. It dimmed, blurred and Wilson fell back as the blue light vanished.