She rises from the abnormally warm earth, the choking smell of sulfur filling her gasping lungs. As she opens her eyes, a realm of maddening horror is splayed out before her. Never before had such a sensitive child seen such grotesquely morbid visions. Plagues of eviscerated victims lay atop each other like a mountain of discarded trash, to the rulers of this domain, an intent not far off.

Pillars of sandstone and molten decay stretch into an empty, endless sky to support all of... nothing, reaching like hands for a merciful grip from above. "Take me from this domain!", they beg. Everywhere around her, the world is violently twisted into an uneven and aesthetically displeasing dystopia, a place most unwelcome, and a domain where none may leave.

The goat climbs to her feet, somehow cold and hot at the same time. She treads forward over the uneven and heated earth toward a river of red. The haunting stench of rotting entrails sickens her. She tries not to vomit as she approaches the river. As she peers into the opaque stream, her rippling reflection depicting a trembling creature, an indiscernible decapitated head bobs past her, so jarringly mutilated beyond recognition that she hardly believes it's real. She falls to her rear end in panic. Tiny voices whisper in her ear.

"H-Hello..."

Nothing. Trying desperately to escape, the goat follows the river upstream, through reddened muck, a terrain she's not at all comfortable trekking across. Her hooves are soaked with the viscous red liquid as she treads. She closes her eyes, pinching them shut as she proceeds across the squishy, squelching surface of rotten meat past lances of pierced bodies. Eyes follow and appendages twitch. Moans and wails assault her long, precious ears as she nears a structure from within, a cave, like a twisted face. It writhes in agony.

"Come to me, child..."

She listens closely as the smooth, cool voice beckons her once again. It is not one she recognizes, but one that she obeys, seemingly involuntarily. From the tall structure, a long red tongue rolls down like a morbid rug, repulsing, yet inviting as it stretches its maw, the muscle and sinew pulling as it gapes in discomfort. Inside, somehow, is a long, dark hall, leading down an esophagus. Rusted, iron lanterns barely provide enough light to cross safely. She walks, down a spiraling stairway, paved in sand, a rail supported by rough and unshapened columns down into an abyss.

"Almost there..."

It calls once again with a small hiss to its voice. Reaching the end of the spiral stairway, she comes across a room, brightly lit with massive torches, the silhouette of a vaguely familiar fragment of her past stands before an altar, gazing into a book.

"Hello?"

The timid goat greets herself as the one standing before the alter slams the black, leather-bound book shut.

"So... we meet at last."

Billie's eyes widen at the sight before her. It couldn't be. He'd been gone for so long. They ALL thought he was dead... and yet, here he is, in the flesh.

"... Dad?"

He turns around, the small goat standing before the altar removes his round-frame oculars, placing them in his jacket pocket as he approaches the child, a cold grin and beaming red headlights piercing into the girl's spirit.

"Countless eons, I've spent, calling, waiting for someone... anyone... to answer. After so long, iron-bound in a cage like an animal, an abomination, cast aside like a horrid accident, my master, terrified of me, terrified of my potential, locked me away, building tomb upon tomb, prison upon prison, desperate to keep me locked away for all eternity. He tried to kill me... my father."

He approaches the girl slowly, staring through his brow line as the reddening corneas flash with anger.

"But I would not stay dead."

As he approaches, she backs away, apprehensively, locked into a stare as her back meets the wall. The figure of Arthur stands a mere foot away from her. He caresses her chin gently, pulling her head so that he may face her. His expression changes from rage to sorrow as he stares into her eyes, down into her heart.

"They feared me... so they locked me away. Curiously, it was him that answered, the owner... the host of this... this humble... goat... "

He holds out his hoof, examining it, sneering at this form with displeasure.

"Father was always quite fond of these beasts. I never understood why."

He smiles as he lets go of her jaw, walking away with his arms folded behind his back. She says nothing, only watches with grave concern as her father... acting very, VERY unlike himself, resumes his deranged and delusional tale.

"It was then that opportunity knocked, one that I, so avid in my desperation, so filled with woe that I had no choice but to act, reciprocated. He had invited me in... this most gracious one."

Her lips are pierced. Her mind begs her not to utter a single word, but beneath her good will, and beyond her reason, she unleashes her caged inquiry.

"Who are you?... What have you done to my dad?!"

He turns to her, his arms still behind his back as he gazes at her with a hard scowl.

"He inquired of magic, this mortal, facing the tomes of knowledge, citing the passages, unlocking secrets long-forbidden from the earth-dwelling mortal cretins... He poked his nose where it didn't belong... For shame."

He chuckles coldly as he bares his white grin.

"I latched on, inviting him into my world, filling his head with my secrets, my memories... my very existence. He wailed and begged me to stop. I was BURNING his soul with my knowledge. This young man, he resisted for so long. I cannot deny that fortitude. But in the end, he grew feeble and desperate. His pain wouldn't end. I wouldn't allow it. He would acquiesce once I had granted but a small favor, to see you once again with his own eyes before he could be fully consumed."

He smiles as he raises a single finger, pointing to his daughter.

"It was your name he called... Billie."

The young lady before him becomes enraged.

"Lies... It's all lies!"

She approaches, grasping her father by the shoulders.

"What have you done to my dad?! Tell me!"

He smirks. With a mere flicker of his wrist, the girl is sent backward into the wall, cracking her head as she slides to the floor.

"I must leave this domain now. I have fulfilled my host's wish, as his merciful new master. Do not pursue me."

She reaches out to him, screaming his name, begging for him as he tears open a portal. She lays there weak... helpless.

"Dad! Wait! You can't leave me here!"

As he opens a portal, he turns and walks back to her slowly, leaning over her until their eyes meet.

"My dear, sweet child. Do not worry."

Her mind fades. Her vision blurs as he escapes her once again.

"It's all just a dream... You'll wake up, and all will be as it once was."

Billie jolts awake, screaming. Sweat rolls down her brow as she stares around the comfortable room. A familiar pink face kicks the door open, stumbling and tripping into the room as he fumbles through his pockets for his faithful magic orbs. He darts his head around.

"Who? What? What happened? Are you okay?"

Billie swallows, taking deep breaths.

"I-I think I just had a nightmare."

Aristotle dips his head to the ground, shaking it.

"A dream... right."

The tired axolotl turns around, bags under his eyes, and slithers his way back to the direction of his bed.

"Please don't go."

He turns around, curious.

"I saw him... I saw Dad... It felt so real."

Aristotle sighs as he approaches the bed. He speaks in a soft, calm tone as he approaches, sitting on the end of her mattress with a kind smile.

"It's just a dream, Billie."

She looks him dead in the eyes, utterly refusing to believe. She shakes her head.

"No... He's out there. I know it... But I don't know if he's okay. Someone... some THING has control of him."

Aristotle tries to reason with the girl. He leans in, taking her hoof in his pink hand. She speaks to him. Her voice shaking, cracking under anxiety as she explains her dream to him.

"When I fell asleep, I could hear a voice whispering in my ear. It was like someone was standing right beside me. Then, I'm in this scary place. It's hot and dark, and it reeks, and there are dead bodies... everywhere."

She becomes emotional, and Aristotle becomes concerned, remaining quiet as he listens.

"The voice continues to call me, and I follow it, down a long, red river, across the bank. I enter a cave that looks like a face, down a long stairway, and into a room and there he is... It's Dad... but... it's not."

Aristotle stares into her eyes, trying desperately to understand.

"What did he sound like?"

She thinks for a moment, looking down at her bed and then back at Aristotle, her milky eyes fixated on him, her tone dead serious.

"It didn't sound like Dad. It looked like him, exactly like him... except for his eyes. He had these piercing, red eyes, filled with hatred. They glowed. He claimed to be someone else. He claimed that he was a powerful monster that was locked in a cage, a monster that everyone was afraid of and that my dad was the one that let him out. He said that my dad personally asked for me... screamed MY name as he was taken."

Aristotle's expression turns to grave concern as he rises from the bed, his gaze never leaving her.

"Aristotle, what does it mean?"

The pink axolotl massages his hands anxiously as he stares off into space in contemplation, his heart filled with worry.

"I don't know."

She sits up in bed, shifting forward.

"You believe me... don't you?"

She stares at the axolotl, her eyes filled with desperation. He looks at her with a kind smile as he tries to mask his stress.

"Of course I do... but I don't think you should allow it to worry you. For all we know, it could just be a nightmare. Please, try to get some sleep."

She takes a deep breath, laying back down as he turns the light back off.

"You know, your dad and I love you very much. Just know that we would never, EVER hurt you. Just think of us whenever you're feeling scared or down. We'll always be there... even if we're not there in person, we'll always be with you in spirit."

She looks away, somewhat shamefully. She speaks quietly.

"I know... and I'm sorry. I love you too, Aristotle."

He smiles, a small chuckle escaping his nostrils.

"I can leave the door cracked if you wish, so at least there's a little light coming in."

She shakes her head.

"No. I'll be fine. Thank you. Good night."

In that instant, a small jingling can be heard. Aristotle bends over and looks down as a pocket of warm fur brushes past his heel and into the room. The small fox leaps onto the bed, bathing Billie with kisses. She chuckles.

"Hey, Oscar."

Aristotle chimes in from the door, leaving one last message.

"There you go. Oscar will keep you company. He'll keep you safe and make sure there are no more nightmares. Good night, Billie."

He closes the door and walks away. Despite his strong, authoritative disposition toward Billie, he finds himself in worry over Arthur as well. He walks into his bedroom, past his bed, and over to his window, gazing up into the cloudless, moon-filled milky sky.

"Arthur... If you're out there. Please, give me a sign."

He stands there for nearly a minute in silence before looking away, somewhat disappointed. He turns off the light and climbs into bed. Aristotle closes his eyes and allows himself to be carried away. Still, he never stops wondering and never gives up hope.