Notes:
Hey guys!
I have... not very good news...
There won't be updates until futher notice. I catched an ear infection a day or two ago and I haven't felt like writing these days...
This is just an Hiatus! I'm not quite done with this story just yet!
Thank you so much for your patience and I hope to see you soon!
Shadow Realm, Adventure Mode, First World: A Cold Reception, Date and Time: Unknown.
-Day 1-
"Oh, You found my portal did you? You'd think you would have learned your lesson by now. Hmm. Let's try something a little more challenging, shall we?"
'A Cold Reception'
"Morning" of the first day, A Cold Reception….
Forgive me, dear reader, for this journal's very first entry is some cryptic words in a hasty calligraphy. I can use any of the many excuses I'm thinking of to explain why I started this page that way, but I'll just name a few as to not to make it very extensive…
Number one, I'm using a papyrus (sheets of paper made out of pressed reeds I found in one of the biomes) that is a little soggy and a piece of charcoal from a tree I just burnt down. Number two, It's rare to hear from that man, Maxwell it's his name, if his word can be trusted anymore. And finally Number three, I think I just 'fell' for it again… another of his games that is, so I need to leave some kind of record of what he tells me so… that's the reason of the hasty scribbles from the beginning of this record.
This is a journal I make in every world I spawn in, in the hopes that someone, someday, can find any of them and tell my grandfather, my only relative alive, of my whereabouts.
Or in the worst case, tell him where I spent the last years of my life.
My name is Wilson Percival Higgsbury. I was born on April 1st. 1918 in the English county of Berkshire, Windsor, United Kingdom. My father's name was Winston, my mother's was Lucciana, my sister's was Willow, my grandmother's was Rosemarie, my grandfather's is Wallace, his twin brother was Warren… My dear wife's was Elizabeth, and lastly, if he had survived, my son's name would have been Wayne.
In this world, I find myself in, roam different types of 'monsters' made out of substances unheard of in the world I came from. Pigs (humanoid like beings that resemble pigs… they kind of creep me out), Beefalos (a combination of a bison and normal cattle, hostile if provoked, two times bigger from normal beefalos), Tallbirds (one-eyed, black, two-legged, flightlessBirds with tiny wings, hostile upon sight… or smell, or presence?) Bees (big as a loaf of bread and more aggressive than the ones you are thinking of), Rabbits (faster than any kind of rabbit breed known), Spiders (incredibly bigger than the biggest one on earth. Very violent.), Deerclops (an unholy amalgamation of a deer and a Cyclops from the myths, its size, titanic), to name a few.
There, lying near me when I 'woke up', was a 'Divining Rod' (it looks like my radio… put on a stick?) I picked it from its pedestal. It looks important. Today I started with the most mundane of tasks, picking rocks and cutting weeds to make a torch is top priority. Always. Lest I want to die at the hands of the night dweller, The Grue.
The Grue is a monster that is easily scared away by any source of light.
The danger of it is that if you don't have any kind of luminescence whatsoever… It cannot be fought, it cannot be killed, it cannot be trapped, it cannot be seen… In the horrible case that you find yourself in pitch darkness… you'll be greeted with a terrible fate.
Thankfully, the final blow is dealt with swiftness; without any kind of mercy or humanity.
So you, reader, won't die an agonizing death to The Grue.
Having found the supplies needed for a full night worth of fuel to bathe myself in light and a dry place to set up my sleeping mattress, I do just that… with the crackling of the fire as a lullaby.
-Day 7-
Forgive me reader, again, I find myself in situations that prevent me from keeping a good record of my journey here in this new world.
Today has been the weirdest day yet.
I found a boy.
Or maybe he found me…?
He has hazel eyes just like my Wayne…
At first I thought he was only a mere figment of my imagination, as he was the only human I've seen so far, my first suspicion was that I had became irremediably mad. The boy, at first, didn't utter a word, neither did I. He spent his time watching me, looking at things and when he came across some of the monsters he didn't run away as expected from a child of no more than ten years, he tried to speak with them… I think… I heard some whispering and at the lack of reply he deemed the situation too boring, he then muttered a quick apology and left. I don't know what to think about that exchange. He followed me after that. When the 'morning' had ended and the 'afternoon' started I decided it was time to talk with the 'spectrum'. Upon closer look, I discovered that his body was made of translucent plasma. Maybe he is a ghost? That would… that would offend me as a scientist.
I tried to talk to him, he seems very reclusive. Poor darling, he seems to be more scared of humans than monsters… a feeling I share. I tried to give him more space, I talked to him about this world, he didn't look at me in the eye, and only hummed responses but I could perceive that I had his full attention and somehow, in the end, he smiled when I started to ramble about some of the monsters here.
I talked about the things we could see in the camp, some of the things I had picked so far and the things I've encountered before. When the time to sleep had come and I was getting ready to sleep… I felt the world stopping, like someone pausing a film in a cinema. he disappeared without trace after the phenomena ceased.
I think he was some kind of… Jiminy Cricket? Once I vented to him about my many frustrations while in here, he disappeared. It's so long since I thought of movies… It's easy to forget some things when your life is in constant danger.
I sleep today feeling lonelier than ever.
It's getting colder, too.
-Day 9-
It's freezing.
I can't write correctly.
Winter too early, couldn't prepare accordingly.
The divine rod was making weird noises. I went to check, found a ring… thing. Collected it and deemed it important.It works as radar to weird things.
No child seen.
-Day 12-
I won't make it.
No child seen. Thankfully. Because I can't feel my legs and there is no more food and I don't want him to see me die.
What am I supposed to do here!?
-Day 13-
Dying.
Child is her e .
- Second try -
-Day 3-
After dying and starting over. I found this journal in one of my pockets! At least I won't have to write it all again!
I couldn't write earlier because I was gathering resources like crazy the first two days. Now I feel confident I won't die so quickly.
The child cried.
The poor darling tried to grab one of the axes I had lying around. He had seen how I cut down trees to fuel the fire pit before, but alas, that was not possible, as his tiny hand phased through it and the sobs returned a new. He tried a couple of times with other tools… but nothing worked, he was so… determined to help me. He approached me and tried to hug me to give me warmth. It didn't work.
The cold didn't affect him at all, no snow stuck to his hair, his clothes didn't freeze and the tone of his skin didn't change. His breath wasn't visible like mine either.
I saw him crying at my prone form, when the darkness was enclosing and my body numbing, I could hear the poor child sobbing with the heartfelt of someone who has seen death far too many times. He looked devastated.
Could he perhaps… be real?
-Day 5-
Frisk.
Frisk is the name of the child. He told me his age, 7 years old, his mother was Japanese, his father was born in America. Shecamewent to America for medical reasons. She lost her voice when she was ten. Without warning, her vocal cords wouldn't make a sound; there was no atrophy…
She just lost her voice while singing.
She was in the school choir; his mother was the best singer…
Doctors across the country tried, and failed, to see what the problem was. Lastly, her mother, Frisk's grandmother, decided that a country life would be better for her mute child, to get her away from the hostile big cities… so she took her to Ebott Town where she fell in love with Frisk's father, married and had a child of her own.
They were doing some late night errands in their car. His parents were in the driver and front seat respectively. Frisk was in the back…
They had an accident when a drunk driver hit them from the front, they died instantly, leaving him orphan. Alone, scared and no family who could take care of him…
His story is awfully familiar.
It's confirmed, this child is real.
Lords.
I treated him like a hallucination!
I felt guilt twisting in my gut as the child shared his sad tale with me. I didn't let the child see how much I hurt in the heart.
While we were talking… It happened again, the world stuttered and he was gone. Why hasn't Maxwell appeared? Isn't he watching me right now?
He enjoys seeing me suffering so, why… why is he letting me speak with this child?
Does he not know about Frisk being here?
Could the all seeing and all mighty Maxwell not know that there is a trespasser in his world?
I completely forgot to ask Frisk where he is now.Is he dead? Is he in a comma?Does he know how or why he is here?
On another note. The Divining Rod (Some kind of homing device I picked up before) stops making noises when I pick up 'things'. So far I have four things that I will enlist below.
Crank Thing: Though enough to 'handle' the most intense experiments.
Box Thing: This may control the polarity of the whole universe. (Where did I hear that?)
Potato Thing: It contains great and fearful power.
Ring Thing: It could focus dimensional energies.
Do I have to construct something with these?
Third try -
-Day 2-
I made a mistake.
A stupid--
I died to ice hounds; I got too close to one Walrus Camp.
While night was falling.
Needless to say the blue hounds that guard the place chased me. I had even established my fire pit near that camp and they simply went after my soft flesh as their tiny brains compels them to do.
I wish not to complain here, dear reader, about my idiotic behavior and the stupidity of it all but... I simply am unable NOT to.
As I was saying profanities to the 'sky', aka, the grey-ish nothingness above my head… somebody came.
I expected Frisk's calming presence; I wanted Frisk to be here. For what? I don't know, I just. I just wanted some company.
All I got was mocking from the demon who trapped me here.
Maxwell laughed at me as he always does, his eyes, were green this time…. They would be black more often than not so… why the change?.
I wonder why this happens... Is it important?
Even his torture changes when his eyes do, so… that phenomena is related, isn't it?
I got lucky though.
No torture this time.
No burns from his cigar, no kicks, no slashes, no shouting, no knives,no dismembering, no spanking, no sexual torture, no rap--…
I really got lucky this time, he hates it when I say profanities or make fun of him. When his eyes are green, at least. When his eyes are black he can't care any less. Nothing will stop him from hurting me when his eyes are black.
Later today, afterhegot bored to make my life miserable, I found something. A Wooden Thing. This one is different from the ones I found before. This one appears to be attached to this very reality.
"This appears to be a nexus to another world!"
I said to myself out loud and danced from happiness. I finally found where this other things were meant to be! To my complete surprise (I didn't jump like a scaredy cat, no one can prove otherwise) there were giggles. I turned my head as quickly as I could and there he was.
Frisk laughing at my antics.
I should really stop to make my winning dance. It's stupid, I know, but… when I'm excited I cannot block the impulse to do so!
My heart swelled with happiness. I wanted to hug him until he could take it no more!
He's an angel sent from heavens, I swear!
I'm getting too attached to Frisk. I fear for what Maxwell will do to him if he ever finds out about him being here.
I have to protect this child at all costs.
Notes:
"Only a mere figment of my imagination" - Reference to OFF. Pablo, the Judge, talking to the Batter.
Just as I described it, I made my camp in a 'safe place' for the night. When I sent Wilson to check the surroundings (after building the fire pit because it was getting dark.) the ice hounds woke up (the ones that sleep outside the Walrus Camp at night), after that, they chased me in circles around said campfire.
Wilson did his best, running in circles, again, and again, and again, and again, until one of those little shits got behind him and killed my boy with one bite.
Damn hounds.
Notes:
*Throws thing at fandoms expecting it wont be lost in the void*