Two: Whispy Woods is Scarier Than it Looks. (AKA, Squeakers Scare Fest.)
Marx was lying in his lemon colored hammock, rocking slightly to and fro in the warm spring wind, one wing hanging over the side of the canvas bed.
A lime green pillow sat under his head and a thin red blanket lay loosely over him, but the purple Noddy just couldn't sleep.
He was constantly distracted by various sounds coming from Whipsy Woods, the forest that lay a few meters from the trees where his hammock was hanging.
There would be a snap, maybe a twang, sometimes a hoot or even the thud of an apple hitting the ground that would send shivers down his spine.
He rolled over onto his stomach, both wings now hanging out, almost touching the ground. Why couldn't he get to sleep?
Suddenly, another sound echoed through the woods. Usually at this point, Marx would've grabbed the pillow and pulled it over his head, but this sound had made him freeze right where he was.
The sound was a haunting giggle.
Marx chuckled silently to himself. Somebody was probably just trying to scare him. Right?
He unconsciously pulled both wings away from the ground, as if he felt that something would grab hold of them if he kept them there.
The giggle sounded again, only this time it was closer. The warm winds suddenly turned cold. Marx pulled the blanket over his head.
"It's probably just my imagination." he told himself, whispering with a slight tinge of hysteria in his voice. Even though he said those words out loud, what he was thinking was a whole different story.
The giggle echoed through the woods once more, sounding even louder and creepier then before.
Marx had had enough. Flinging the covers off, he jumped out of bed, landing on the grass with a slight thump that was drowned out by the sound of another giggle.
"Show yourself!" The Noddy hissed loudly to nobody in particular. "I'm not scared of you!"
Something warm suddenly splashed onto the side of his face. He slowly ran his tongue over it, examining its taste.
He almost screamed.
It was salty, almost metallic. He cautiously raised a claw to it and glanced at the liquid smeared onto the ivory.
It was red. Blood red. It was blood.
He didn't think, he just ran. He had to get away, as fast as he could. Thinking quickly, he teleported into the nearest house and dove into the covers of the nearest bed.
"MARX! What are you-?!"
The purple Noddy shushed the Halcaldran, shivering from his spot beneath the sheets, sticking his head out ever so slightly.
"I'm never going back there, Mags. Whispy Woods is scarier than it looks!"
Magolor clicked his tongue and grabbed the puffball under the wings, pulling him into a security hug.
"Go to sleep, Marx. It'll be gone in the morning."
The purple Noddy felt much safer between the Halcaldran's arms and snuggled up closer to his companion.
"I guess you're right, Mags."
And with a small yawn, the two friends soon fell asleep...
...
At the entrance to the woods sat three Squeakers, giggling to themselves.
"We sure got him good, didn't we?" asked one, a blue one.
"We sure did!" replied another, a green one. "The animal blood was a good idea too! But, where did you get that from?"
"I found it in Spinni's room." answered the third Squeaker, a yellow one. "Why do you ask?"
The first two Squeakers froze, their eyes widening. The yellow Squeaker noticed this.
"There's something right behind me, isn't there?"
His question was answered by a maniacal laugh.
Yellow turned slowly to see two amber eyes, sharp teeth turned up in a creepy smile and three metal claws glinting in the moonlight.
"Run!" It whispered. They ran.
Spinni chuckled to herself.
"One for them, fifty three for me. Just how it should be."
And then she walked away.