"Alright willy, time to get up."
Wilson opened his eyes. I've always liked those eyes of his. Very big and brown, not much white to them. It's like the eyes of a lovable German Shepard in the head of a man. His left eye has a strange blood vessel that curves around his iris. You can't see it until someone tells you about it, but once you do, you never shake it. His eyelashes are quite long, much to the envy of his wife. It all lends a strange look to his face, that of curiosity or of love. The distinction of the two depends on what he's looking at and who's describing it. But at that moment, it was curiosity. For you see, Wilson could not. The darkness was all consuming. But where one sense failed, another picked up the slack. He focused his hearing and found two things; the sound of rushing water, and the sound of breathing. Wilson, being a master of self-preservation, felt it best to start making threats.
"Do not come any closer," he proclaimed, meaning to sound much more menacing than his voice would allow. "I am armed and dangerous."
"Yeah, that stink you've got going on is hella somethin'," replied the voice. It was English, Wilson knew that, but it was being filtered through some other strange dialect. All the words this being spoke slurred together as if their mouth were a blender.
"Australians," Wilson muttered, and then, a little louder, "alright, who are you? And what do you want with me?"
"Wow. Y'don't recognize me?" The person said. There was a loud clack, causing Wilson to jump. Sparks flew as two rocks came together, illuminating the cavern for a moment. Holding one of the rocks was a creature. Enormous, glassy eyes sitting above a thin-lipped, but smiling mouth, "it's me, Willy."
"No," realization and panic came upon Wilson like waves. He looked around, moved his hands across the rocks, desperate for a way out, a way to escape, "no no no no no."
"Woah, willy, you alright?" Willow asked, dropping her stone and walking over to him. Her feet made wet clicking noises against the stone.
"No no no, you do not exist. You do not exist. You should not exist, not here. You are a character, a character I made up," Wilson said, his voice strangled. Neither of them would've heard it, were it not the only noise in this place.
"Willy, I was always real, and you knew it. Look, I can prove it to you," came the voice to Wilsons left, very close. He felt a hand latch around his own, a very real, very human hand. It was soft, the softest thing he'd held in a week. He yanked his own hand back, tripping backward and trying to crawl away.
"Not real, not real, not real, all in my imagination, not real, not real," Wilson said. His heart beat in his throat, his lungs were screaming, his legs were hurting. He curled up into a ball atop the rock, shivering for his soaked clothes, for the cold air, for the fear. Shivering for the madness that had finally breached his mind.
Willows hands, or perhaps his own, grabbed him roughly. He shrieked in return, and it echoed throughout the cavern. The hands tore off his shirt. The cold air felt much worse against his bare skin, and his scream died to a whimper as it seized him. The clacking came back. Once. sparks flew, and Wilson jolted in place. The gaunt eyes of willow seemed to take on a demonic quality, and she was no longer smiling. Twice. Wilson recoiled and turned away, not wanting to look at the demon born of his brain. Thrice. This time, the light stayed. Willow had managed to set fire to Wilson's shirt and was holding it up, high in the air.
"Real enough for ya?" Willow asked, her tone spiteful, but her face not quite living up to it. She sighed, "listen, I know this ain't fun, but we need to get moving or we'll starve, okay?" No noise came back, and Willow approached. Wilson didn't want her to touch him, didn't want to feel that soft hand again. But Wilson wasn't in control anymore. Wolfgang sat up, causing Willow to fall backward and almost drop her burning cloth. They looked at each for a moment.
"Willy?" She asked.
"You will not have it wench!" Wolfgang proclaimed, leaping to his feet.
"Ah, hey Wolfgang," Willow said, smiling despite herself. Well, I say smile, it's more of one side of her face peeling up. Like a snarling wolf with kind eyes. Well, I say kind...
"How you know Wolfgang's name? Where is Wolfgang?" He looked around at the darkened cavern, and the shaking did not leave him. Though he looked much better shirtless than Wilson did. I bet it's a posture thing.
"Wolfgang, this is gonna sound nuts, but it's me, willow," she said.
"Oh! So you are one making puny man angry!" Wolfgang said, chuckling to himself, "why Wolfgang not seen you before? Are you witch, sending puny man letters that appear in book?"
"Uh," Willow said, looking down at the flaming cloth she was holding in her bare hands, "I don't think so... No, I was in will- I mean puny man's body, like you are."
"Eurgh. Does this mean Wolfgang have cooties?" He asked, scratching something behind his ears.
"Wha- no? Why would you have- eh, I don't care," she replied as she shook her head. "Listen, we're in this weird cave, and we need to get out."
"Oh! Wolfgang remember! Cave smell better now," he said, sniffing deeply and getting a salty, but not unpleasant smell.
"Yeah, I think that's the water," Willow said, getting to her feet, "come on."
Wolfgang stood up and they began to walk. The ground was uneven and sharp, so they ended up slipping and cutting themselves as they walked. The dim light of the burning clothes did not seem to help matters, aside from keeping them both calm. They finally found a wall with enough slope that they might be able to scale it. Wolfgang went first, climbing up the wall with such speed that he outran the light. Willow went behind, providing illumination for them both. They reached the top without issue and braced themselves for the smell, but nothing came.
"Why is cave smell not bad now?" Wolfgang asked as he hauled himself onto the floor of the cavern.
"I might've blown up the smell. I wish I could've watched it go up though, I reckon it'd've been beautiful," Willow replied. She gazed down into the burning rag she was holding with a hopeless longing.
"Huh. Good," Wolfgang replied, trudging back to the cave entrance, "why go into smelly room anyway?"
"I dunno...maybe the diary will say somethin about it," Willow offered, stepping out of the hole in the wall. The rain was still pounding away outside, with no star or moonlight getting through. The light from the still burning shirt seemed to be fighting to stay seen. The darkness outside seemed to be as bad as the one behind them.
"It is a journal," Wilson said, stumbling out behind her. He walked over to a nearby wall, fell against it and slid to the ground, head in his hands.
"Oh willy, you're back!" Willow moved in for a hug of some kind, but she stopped herself, "are you feelin' any better?"
"No."
"Oh."
There was a long silence between the two of them. Willow set to work on a fire, scrounging up the last of the damp wood. In a few minutes, she had used the now smoldering shirt to light it all. Wilson did his best to sulk, but the cold air got the better of him and he joined willow at the fireside.
"Why are you here," he asked, his eyes not leaving the fire.
"Well, when a Wilson and his brain love each other very much..." She began.
"You know what I mean," his voice was muffled, but she could still hear the... What was that emotion? Anger? Fear? Defeat?
"I dunno willy. I was in your body, now I've got my own," Willow replied, shrugging her shoulders. She looked down at her legs, at her arms, and twirled one of her pigtails without thought.
"That makes no sense. People don't pop out of other people like that."
"Don't they grow in bellies where you come from?" She asked, poking the fire with a stick, "maybe you had me growing in your belly."
"That's not even close to how it works," he said.
"Well, how do you know? It's not as if people often pop into other peoples heads in the first place."
"I am a scientist. You tend to know the basics of human reproduction if you are a scientist. And I thought you were something my mind made to stop me feeling so alone."
"Imma be straight with you, but the way you described It didn't seem basic at all,"
"Well when we get back, I will find you some textbooks," Wilson said, "though maybe not one with pictures, because that is too uncouth. To this day, I still do not know why they print them."
There was silence for a few minutes, until Willow piped up, "so... You got any ideas on why I exist now?"
"Well, I am wondering if there was something in that water, but short of magical ponds, I have nothing," Wilson replied, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.
They did not exchange any more talk that night. They roasted a meager berry meal before turning in for the night.
