Chapter One: The Game Begins

"I'M FREE! HAHA! I'M FINALLY FREE!"

The joyous voice echoed for miles, scaring birds and rabbits away with it's volume. Maxwell danced around excitedly, kicking up dirt. He sounded like he just won the lottery. "I'm free! I'm free!" he screams happily to the sky. He laughed and brushed off his handsome suit and finally got a good look at his surroundings. He expression turned confused, angry, and dark as he realized where in the world he was.

"I'm... Why the hell am I still here?" Maxwell snarled. "Why didn't I go home?" He stomped, snapping a stick under his fancy black shoes. He swiped his hand over his face in frustration with another deep growl.

"Well, well, well," a voice purred from the shadows and trees surrounding Maxwell. "Looks like it's my turn to be king!"

Maxwell whipped around, his trusty Dark Sword in hand, and stared into the nothing behind him. He swore he heard a familiar voice behind him. All that could be heard was the wind, weaving it's way through the pine trees. No voice. No body.

Maxwell, deciding he would have to survive for a little while, turned and began to walk into the dark pine forest. As he walked, he mumbled to himself, "I'll just catch some rabbits. I watched that little Wilson do it. If that scientist can survive on berries and rabbits, so can I. I am Maxwell. I can do anything better than him."

"Sure beats darkness," Maxwell mutters, warming his hands by the poorly constructed campfire. He had only managed to catch one rabbit during the whole day and he spent most of his time shouting at a fat Gobbler that devoured several berry bushes. The only food he even had was one rabbit and three carrots, all of which he had hastily cooked and was now debating if the meat was actually safe to eat.

As he munched on the carrots, Maxwell peered into the darkness around the fire. So many strange noises echoed through the night. The calls of the hounds and the spiders' dreadful hissing didn't bother Maxwell one bit. He was used to terrifying sounds by now, having been trapped in the Nightmare Throne for so long. Maybe he was already a little insane. He didn't care of course. All he cared about was finished what he had started and that was getting off this stupid island. All he cared about was the fine wine and classy living that he had been kept from for so long.

Of course, he had to survive the hostile world he was in first.

"I wonder if Charlie is out there somewhere," he mumbled, tossing a log on the fire to keep it from going out. Maxwell wasn't afraid of the dark or of the Grue, aka Charlie. He just preferred to having the ability to see and going without some kind of fire or torch wasn't going to happen. Maxwell would have light even if he had to start a forest fire.

Just as he had begun nodding off, a loud frustrated shriek stirred him into alertness. Maxwell stood and scanned his dim surroundings. Nothing but the trees. He shrugged, dismissing it as an angry Tallbird scaring something away from its nest. Then the shriek arose again, the words much clearer, "I HATE this STUPID forest! I am SICK of these DUMB TREES!"

Maxwell saw a moving light growing brighter as it came in his direction. It wasn't a firefly. Much to bright to be a firefly. It was a torch. And carrying that torch, was a very angry looking young lady with messy black hair and muddy, dirty clothes. She stomped towards Maxwell's little camp and doesn't seem to noticed Maxwell was even there.

She looked up from her glaring at the mud on her shoes and jumped back in surprise. Waving her torch in front of her, she shouted, "Who are you?! Where am I?! Did you drag me here?! I demand to know!"

Maxwell held his hands up and gave the girl his most suave smile. "Listen, pal, I didn't have anything to do with you coming here and I have no idea where 'here' even is," he explained smoothly. "But the name's Maxwell. Pleasure's all mine." He offered a hand shake to the girl.

She raised an eyebrow and pushed his hand away as if it was diseased. "My name is Willow," she said, an air of distrust in her voice. "And I am not your pal."

Maxwell shook his head, still grinning. "If you say so." He gestured at the campfire and said, "You're welcome to join me in surviving in this dump. I do like company."

Willow took it a slightly different way than intended. "Listen here! Don't you get any funny ideas, Mister! I'll have too much fun burning that smirk off your face!" she snapped, moving to the other side of the fire. She glared at Maxwell from behind the protective flames.

Maxwell sighed, "That's not what I meant but suit yourself." He sat down on his side of the fire and rubbed his chin. "So Willow, are you gonna help me get out of here?"

There was a long silence before she answered. "Only if you swear that you won't make me do all the work. And if you'll help me get out of here too."

Maxwell grinned. "I swear."

"Good. Don't make me regret this."