To sir omnom - Thank you, I'm glad you like the story. To answer your statement, I would just like to say that you must remember Wilson didn't choose to be a part of this. He, like all the others, was forced into this situation with no experience for this kind of thing. While being closer to Wendy might be expected under normal circumstances this is far from normal. Plus she is slow to trust and reveal her own feelings. Rest assured though, the relationships between characters are still developing, and will continue to develop throughout the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Don't Starve or any of the characters

It was a very peculiar experience to be forcibly dragged through a tear in the fabric of reality. For Wilson, it was like being nowhere and everywhere at the same time. If his mind had been able to form any kind of coherent thought during the ride he likely would have been screaming in panic. As it was, the sheer sensory overload of the physics defying journey rendered him helpless to do anything other than fight to stay conscious.

After falling through the void for heaven knows how long, one singular direction reasserted itself on the hapless scientist. Down. Wilson was simultaneously slammed back into reality and slammed face first into the ground as the laws of nature, something he was normally reassured by, decided to come back.

For a moment, he simply lay there in exhausted misery. The chance to catch his breath after such a traumatic journey was something he couldn't afford to pass up.

He let his head sink into the soft grass as the warmth of the sun beat down on his back. It was such a pleasantly different environment to the one he'd been subjected to a moment ago that he could almost fall asleep right there…

Hold on. Grass? Sunlight? Hadn't they just been wandering through a swamp or something?

Knowing his situation could only be revealed in one way, Wilson put forth a massive effort of will and managed to crack one eye open. His vision blurred in and out of focus as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

Sure enough, there was grass. Lots of it. It was thicker than the weedy shoots that filled their campsite, and felt slightly coarser. A distant part of his mind went over what type of environment would support such a plant. Not the mostly dry grassland that they were used to, that was for sure. It would take a fair amount of precipitation for the grass to be so hefty.

His meandering train of thought was brought to a halt as another oddity was slowly pulled into focus.

A pair of shoes were located a short distance from where he lay. Not just cheap ones either, these looked expensive and didn't show the wear and tear one would expect living out here. Connected to those shoes was a pair of fancy dress socks, leading up to a pristine pair of brown pants. As Wilson's gaze continued to climb, he was stricken by the sharp looking dress suit complete with a small rose in the lapel. In his haze, he didn't stop to consider just who would be mad enough to go around in the wilds in such attire.

That is, until he looked a little higher.

Wilson's heart just about stopped as he saw the face of the man in front of him. He looked exactly the same as he had when the scientist had first arrived. The same superior smirk, the same amused glint in his eyes, the same air of absolute control.

"Say pal, you don't look so good."

A primal cry of rage tore itself from Wilson's throat as he leapt to his feet, the earlier fog entirely erased. His knife was in his hand before he even realized what he was doing. Months of enduring the torturous conditions of the nightmare world boiled over into a single action as he threw himself at the hated figure.

"Maxwell!"

Wilson had never killed another man before, but in that moment he knew he couldn't do anything less than bury his blade hilt-deep in his tormentor's throat. After everything he'd put them through, it was the least this fiend deserved.

He crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. With every ounce of force he could muster the scientist swung his knife in a murderous arc, intent to permanently wipe the smile off Maxwell's face. His strike descended…

And went right through him.

Wilson let out a yelp of surprise as his momentum carried him through the incorporeal image. On the other side, a very dazed Wolfgang had been picking himself up off the ground only to come sprawling back down as the scientist plowed into him and brought them both down. It was by a mixture of luck and Wilson's reflexes that the knife buried itself in the dirt rather than the strongman's chest.

"That's just plain rude."

At Maxwell's condescending remark, Wilson was back on his feet in an instant. He brandished the knife threateningly, though he didn't try rushing him again. He had no intention of making a fool of himself to entertain their sick host.

"What the hell is going on!?" Willow's voice drew both their attentions to her. Her eyes darted back and forth between their surroundings and Maxwell himself, disbelief marked plainly on her face. "You! What did you do to us!? Was throwing us through that thing the first time not enough!? Answer me!"

He gave an amused chuckle in response.

"Don't look at me little lady, this one's on her." He said, gesturing to Wendy who was unsteadily getting to her feet. "She's the one who dragged you through that little ride. I personally would have thought the lot of you would have learned your lesson the first time, but I suppose I was wrong."

Wilson tightened his grip around the knife handle until his knuckles felt as though they were about to pop. He was treating this like a game. Standing there smirking while the rest of them struggled to get by on whatever meager scraps they could find.

"Enough of this!" The scientist cried, his patience for these twisted trials having evaporated a long time ago. "I'm finished with your tricks! Either you send us home right now, or I'll make you regret it dearly!"

The deadly serious expression on his face did little to wipe away Maxwell's mood. It was almost like he enjoyed seeing Wilson's defiance.

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong." The man stated simply. "The game has only just begun. Of course, you weren't really supposed to make it this far but I have to give you points for trying. That little machine of yours is sure to come in handy."

He eyed the divining rod, currently located in the grass at Wendy's feet, appraisingly. A slimy shiver went up Wilson's spine at the compliment. It was like having a war criminal tell you that they enjoyed your work.

Before anyone could get a word in edgewise, the humor in Maxwell's face disappeared. In its place was a grave frown and a dark cloud hidden in his features.

"You've gone and made quite a stir you know." He remarked, the comment sounding far more sinister than its individual words would imply. "Since your little stay in my first world didn't pose much of a challenge, I've had to think of something a bit more… difficult for your next task."

"Oh no, no you don't, we're not playing by your rules!" Wilson insisted. The thought of being subjected to another nightmare was too much to bear. "You send us back NOW! No more toying around! No more of this!" His arm shook with outrage as he jabbed the knife forwards to emphasize his words.

"No more!"

Maxwell shook his head sadly.

"You don't get it do you?" He said in disappointment. "You don't get a choice in the matter. I decide if you play and what I say goes. But I'm not an unreasonable man. I'm not about to drop you in the middle of nowhere with nothing. You can all keep the equipment you brought with you as well as anything you pick up along the way."

He raised his hand to silence the retort that Wilson was about to make.

"You've escaped one world." Maxwell stated. "Five more stand before you. Each one is designed to break you down until there's nothing left. The first four are all tailored to pick you apart in different ways. However, should you conquer those the fifth will hold all the answers you need. Both the key to escaping this world as well as the knowledge you came here seeking in the first place."

"Why are you doing this?" Willow demanded, trembling either out of fear or anger. In response Maxwell merely shrugged.

"Like I said, if you want answers you'll have to make it past the first four worlds." He explained. "The goal is simple. You found my doorway, so just do it again. Easy right? You have that little radio box to guide you so there shouldn't be any real issue with that part."

"That isn't all is it?" Wendy's question, unlike the others, wasn't filled with emotion. She spoke as though this whole situation was some perfectly normal outing. "If it was that simple, you wouldn't have gone through the trouble of making it by hand."

For a moment, Maxwell silently observed the girl and her ghostly sister. A small frown formed on his face as though he were trying to recall something. It vanished quickly however, leaving no trace of it having been there in the first place.

"You're friend seems to get it." He said, turning to Wilson. "Finding the door is the first part, but getting past the obstacles standing in the way is the second. It won't just be as simple as walking up to it like you did in this one."

He turned his back to them, the darkness that made up his illusory form dissipating. Before he vanished entirely, he spoke one last warning.

"I hope you're not a king's man mister Higgsbury, because the royal guard stands between you and your first target."

They were upset with her. Wendy didn't need to be a mind reader to know that. After Maxwell had made his little speech, Wilson had silently snatched the divining rod from her and stormed off ahead. Willow wasn't much better. Every now and then she'd turn and look like she was about to say something, but she never did. She always turned away again with a shake of her head. Only Wolfgang and Abigail didn't seem to be angry. The strongman looked more worried than anything.

It was surprising how much their disapproval stung. Wendy shouldn't care should she? The only way any of them were getting home was by going through Maxwell, so what did it matter if they didn't agree with her strategy? She'd be proven right in the end, and two could play the silent game.

The sting of tears prompted her to squeeze her eyes shut and quickly shake her head. No! She wasn't some stupid kid! She wouldn't start crying just because the adults were too dense to see the logic in her actions. Fixing her mouth in a thin line, she opened her eyes again to find Wolfgang giving her a concerned look.

"Is problem?" He asked. The man's seemingly simple nature was a slight reassurance. At the very least he didn't question her decision.

"I'm fine." She answered, her voice sounding rougher than she'd intended. The girl looked down pointedly, choosing to cut off the conversation before it began. She really didn't want to talk right now. Thankfully Wolfgang caught the hint and left her alone, though his face fell as he did so. Great. Now she felt even worse.

With a dejected sigh, she turned her gaze skyward. Clouds darkened the air above their heads, having swarmed in shortly after they set out and blocked out the majority of the sunlight they'd been enjoying. It seemed like every part of this place was specifically designed to make them miserable. The muggy heat, the thick air, the constant overcast, the list went on and on…

As though guided by her negative thoughts, a large drop of water suddenly burst on Wendy's cheek. Heaving a groan, she turned to her sister who was hovering close by.

"Abigail?" She asked. "Could you fly up and see if there's any place we could take shelter inside? It looks as though there is going to be raining soon."

A hardly perceptible nod shimmered through the ghost's features as she ascended. Before long she had largely disappeared from sight, only the faint glow of her body differentiating her from the storm clouds overhead.

Another drip connected with Wendy's shoulder. So far it seemed that she was the only one who realized the sky was about to open up. She should probably tell the others.

Then again, maybe she shouldn't. Letting them get a bit drenched while she waited for Abigail to come back sounded like a delightful way to pay them back for their bad moods. Sure it was a bit petty, but she was feeling petty right now.

With a small smile, she wondered just how long she could leave them hanging before calling her sister back.

"Quickly! This way!" Wendy's shout was almost swept away in the thundering winds. What had started as a minor drizzle had quickly elevated into a fully-fledged storm, complete with ripping gales and brilliant lightning that was just a tad too close for comfort.

The others all rushed along with her, all of them struggling to keep Abigail's glimmer in sight. The spirit was their lifeline. Without her guiding them, the possibility of drowning in the sheer downpour was very real. Not to mention…

"Gah!" Willow cried out in pain as a giant frog lashed out at her ankles. The frogs, if they could truly be called such, had appeared with the rains. They proved to be significantly more dangerous than their appearance would suggest, armed with long barbed tongues that could easily draw blood and shred flesh.

Thankfully the fire starter was able to keep her footing, and quickly drew even with the group once more. More of the warty monsters tried to take pieces out of them, but they were keen to it now. Quick feet and nimble reactions managed to carry them through the gauntlet of wicked beasts.

"Just a bit farther!" Wendy could see that Abigail had stopped up ahead. She was hovering near some kind of structure. In the panicked rush, none of them bothered to wonder what a house was doing out here in the middle of nowhere.

Seeing the possible escape from the storm, they all put on an extra bust of speed as it drew closer. Willow shot ahead of them, shoulder charging into the door and all but shattering the old wood on impact. She fell face down in a heap, moaning in relief now that she was out of the rain.

Wendy, Wolfgang, Wilson, and Abigail quickly followed. For several minutes, the only sound that could be heard inside was the rapid panting of those trying to catch their breath after the run and the bang as Willow slammed the door shut to keep the rain out. When they had recovered enough to notice their surroundings, a high pitched scream of fright sounded over the pounding rain.

"Wait! Wolfgang, don't!"

Ignoring Wilson's protests, the terrified strongman leapt into his arms like a stereotypical housewife upon seeing a mouse. Of course, being much much heavier than a stereotypical housewife, his bulk toppled the scientist to the ground, nearly crushing him.

"Can't- Breathe- Help- Please- Dying-"

It took a great amount of effort, but Willow and Wendy managed to drag him off Wilson's form. As he sputtered and choked, the two females spotted the source of the panic.

Lying against the far wall of the small cabin was a skeleton. Sightless eye sockets stared back at them, and bleached white bones were scattered in a small arrangement. Though much of it had crumbled with age, it was clear that the person had died where they lay. This wasn't some gruesome trick being played by Maxwell.

"It seems we're not the first to come this way." Wendy thought out loud. She slowly edged closer until a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

"Don't touch it." Willow ordered sternly. "This could be another trap for all we know."

She pulled away, wrenching herself out of the woman's grip with a huff. It wasn't like she had been planning on using them in a voodoo ritual or anything. She'd just wanted a closer look.

As she looked away, refusing to meet the fire starter's eyes, something near the old corpse caught her eye.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing out the object in question. Abigail took that as a signal to shed more light on the room. She floated closer, bathing the already eerie skeleton in a spectral glow that illuminated everything.

The something turned out to be two somethings. Books to be exact. A pair of them rested underneath the desiccated remains of a hand, stacked one on top of the other. Whoever had been living here must have valued them highly.

By unspoken agreement, Willow crept forward. She used her staff to ease the bony appendage away enough to pry the books out from underneath it. When the skeleton didn't jump to life and try to tear her throat out she knelt down to pick them up, resting the staff on her shoulder and using her lighter to get a clearer view of the task.

"Look like anything useful?" Wilson asked, still a bit winded. She nodded, holding out the smaller of the two.

"You're going to want to see this."

The group crowded in as close as they could without things getting too uncomfortable. Setting both books on the ground, Willow opened up the smaller one to show them what she'd seen.

It was a journal. Not unlike the one Wilson himself had been writing before it became ruined. Much of its pages had crumbled over time, but the last entry was still very legible.

.

I can no longer recall how long I've been here. Long enough to construct this place, though the exact number of days eludes me. That's sad in a way. I'm sure my students would be appalled to see me in such a disorganized state.

I was so close. So beautifully close. After searching high and low, I've finally managed to locate the doorway in this world. It is in the center of the pig village. Getting to it should have been easy, but sadly these bipeds are less amiable than the ones I'm used to. They appear to be of a warrior caste, protecting their king with violent aggression.

The doorway appears to have been modified to double as a throne, with the king himself seated upon it. I tried to sneak in during the night, but they were more attentive than I gave them credit for. I suppose I paid the price. Some quick thinking allowed me to escape their clutches, but one of the beasts struck me rather heavily in the side. After several days, the wound has failed to close and instead has become infected. I fear I have no way of fixing this situation.

To anyone who might come across this writing finding themselves in a similar situation, I leave my spell book. I pray that it might be enough to help you along your way and allow you to succeed where I have failed.

This has been my final entry. Good fortune be with you.

-Wickerbottom