WX-78's POV
While the others slept, I busied myself by searching the entirety of Wilson's book, curious as to what it was he had been so desperately writing in it before brushing it off like it was nothing. There had been a look in his eye when he was writing it; his eyes had been wild and his expression tense, like he was someone forcing his hand to write. It was most likely nothing of importance, I knew, maybe a drawing of something he had remembered, but I had nothing better to do. I sat by the firelight, alternating between searching through the book at staring at my companions.
I knew very well that Webber had sort of adopted himself as Wilson's; he was terrible at pretending. Yet, I didn't expect the sort of raw emotion in his eyes when Wilson had returned to us unscathed.
Unscathed... there had to be something more behind that. Maybe I could find something in the book about that, but I doubted it. One of us would've found it by now if that was the truth. And so, I didn't keep my hopes up.
At first, my page turning had been slow, my eyes grazing over each word written by an unknown hand, but the longer I read, the quicker I began to turn the pages. Charcoal wasn't a precise written tool by any means, and I figured it would be easy to see.
I had just reached the section where each of the survivors were listed when I stopped, staring at Wilson's page.
Written in thick, heavily marked charcoal, two words had been written over and over again.
Someone else. Someone else. Someone else. Someone else. Someone else.
…
Webber was the first to wake up. I could tell because he was stirring more than usual and he would occasionally blink up at Wilson to see if he had woken up yet, but he seemed perfectly content to lay there, and he may have drifted off again.
I honestly didn't care less. The words Wilson had wrote were turning over in my head. Someone else... what is he talking about? Someone else had been there with him? Someone else killed him? Someone else what!? Why be so cryptic!
As the sun was just beginning to graze the treetops, I was struck by something. It was a similar feeling to what I had directly before Wilson returned to us. I looked up to see something standing over the scientist. If I had breath to lose, I was certain that I would have. My limbs felt held in place, and I found the idea of sleep paralysis running through my mind despite me not having sleep nor a mind to be tricked. I couldn't rightly describe it as anything other than a mass of shadows. A large portion of its body was wound around Wilson, while its claws gripped his head in order to stay upright.
As fast as it had appeared, the sensation went away, and Wilson was waking up as well. He yawned and stretched, then spared a few moments to stare at Webber before hesitantly reaching around to scratch around his whiskers. When he caught me staring at him, his eyes narrowed.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?"
"What are you talking about?" He hostility in his eyes immediately cleared, and his voice tinged with confusion. "It's too early for this, WX. At least let me wake up first."
He seemed totally normal. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? Being dead for a few days really makes you stop and think about how beautiful nature is. Like, when was the last time you just appreciated what it felt like to have the sun on your skin." As if to emphasis his point, he stretched out his arms and sighed blissfully.
I frowned at him.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He tipped his head at me. "What did I do this time? I should probably be able to guess with you at this point, but I'm lost."
I shook my head. I couldn't explain it, and I didn't know what it even was. Wilson shrugged and nudged Webber until he was able to stand.
"What are we doing today? There's not really much for us to do until the Bearger comes back..." he shivered. "Although, I'm not looking forward to facing off against that again. I'm just excited for when we get to leave."
I hummed, but said nothing. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't say what. I knew that there were strange hallucinations here, but none of those hallucinations directly interacted with any of us. That shadow was hovering over Wilson, was curled around Wilson.
"Mmm... can we not work today?" Webber asked, his voice still slurred with sleep. I felt a twinge of annoyance in my chest. Wilson was glad that the boy was becoming more comfortable around us, comfortable enough to act like himself, but it frustrated me to no end. He was a survivalist first and a child second, there was no room for error, youth, or weakness, and certainly no time for play. Wilson gave him a pitying look, a look that meant I want to let you be a child but I can't let you be a child. I huffed.
"Well, I like that idea a lot... it would be nice to relax after what we all went through with the Dragonfly... but we can't really take a break. Not with another battle like that on the horizon." He shook his head very slightly, earning a disappointed growl from the boy.
"YOU KNOW HE IS RIGHT," I snapped. "OUR DAY-TO-DAY SURVIVAL IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN FUN AND GAMES."
Webber sighed. "We know. What are we going to be doing today, then?"
"WE ARE LOW ON MOST THINGS. I WAS UNABLE TO KEEP UP OUR STOCKS WHILE YOU WERE MOPING AND WILSON WAS... INDISPOSED OF." I wasn't going to admit that the only reason I fell so far behind was because I couldn't stop returning to the scene of the battle, beating myself up and cursing myself for not being fast enough to save Wilson. It didn't matter now, and I certainly wasn't going to bring it up to make it matter.
Webber brightened, if only slightly. "Foraging... we can do that."
He just didn't want to fight.
Funny. Webber is the last one I expected to get cold feet.
"What are we lowest on?" Wilson asked, the question directed at me.
I thought for a moment. "FOOD, PROBABLY. AND FIREWOOD."
"Firewood," Webber immediately said. His whiskers were twitching slightly, and his brow was furrowed. I saw Wilson give the boy a strange look.
"YOU CANNOT FORGO KILLING FOREVER," I warned him. "KILLING IS NECESSARY FOR OUR SURVIVAL."
"WX, you wouldn't mind hunting, would you?" Wilson asked hopefully. "Why don't you bring Popsicle and Pyrite?"
A deep frown appeared on my face, I knew, but I couldn't stop it. Pyrite... the name they had given the Dragonfly hatchling. What a perfect name, I had remarked. Fool's gold, for a bunch of fools. Since her hatching the day before, she had done absolutely nothing but sleep. Occasionally she would wake up in order to find something to set on fire and eat, but that was the most we had seen from her.
Popsicle had apparently given himself the title of Protector of the Stupid Bug, and he refused to move from her side or even let us get too close.
I mentally cursed at myself for thinking of the creatures as anything other than that- creatures, that would one day undoubtedly become our food, if I could find a good time when both of the others' backs were turned.
I suddenly noticed that I was receiving just as harsh of a glare from the ice hound puppy. Did it understand Wilson, and hate the arrangement as much as I did? Of course not, I scoffed. A dog is no human, it can't even feel if it wanted to.
"YOU CAN'T PROTECT HIM," I said instead, glancing deliberately down at Webber. "HUNTING IS IN HIS NATURE."
"I can do what I like with him," Wilson snapped. "The last time I checked, you weren't the one that all but adopted him."
"Stop talking over me!" Webber barked. He pushed away from Wilson to stand between us, his fur standing on end. "I'm still here, you know! A spider takes a break for a few days and suddenly everyone pretends like he was never there in the first place! If you have something to say about us, you say it to us!" He shifted his narrowed gaze from me to Wilson and back. I couldn't help but let out the smallest sigh of relief. Good... he does still have a bite, even against Wilson.
But then I almost shivered. Me? I? A spider?
Who is talking to us right now?
The spider?
"We don't want to hunt, but we will if we have to, because that's survival. However, when there's three of us, all perfectly capable of hunting, we don't see why we would have to in the first place. Tame us all you want, but the facts will always come back to we are just as capable as either of you. There is nothing to protect."
"Yes there is!" Wilson cried. "I've seen it now! We saw it yesterday!"
"Yesterday was an exception," Webber protested, but I almost see the flush of embarrassment on his black-furred cheeks. "A moment of weakness does not make us weak."
Wilson caught my gaze and I was surprised to see frustration in his. However, I could understand. Just when we think he's figured out, he does something like this.
Finally, the scientist let out a deep, exhausted sigh. "Would you still prefer to collect firewood?"
Webber nodded. "But that doesn't mean we can't hunt!" He added hastily with a small glare at me. I glowered back instinctively.
"Then you and I can go do that while WX can hunt."
I opened my mouth, ready to protest. Webber was the best at hunting, and Wilson knew it. His speed was unmatched between us. In fact, I would even argue that I was the worst.
Wilson's trying to get him comfortable.
But why?
Wilson seemed to catch my expression and he waved it off. "Any of your shortcomings can easily be made up by Popsicle."
"THEN WHY THE INSECT?" I decided to say, which took a great deal of self-restraint. Shortcomings!? My mind roared.
"To protect you if you're out too long. We don't want another attack now, do we?" He asked, tapping his ear. I covered the bolt that had been severed by the Night Monster and gave him the nastiest glare I could manage. "Come on, Webber."
"WHAT IF YOU TWO ARE OUT TOO LONG?" I demanded, but I earned no response. Great, that left me in a conundrum. Either do what Wilson told me to- infuriating- or let ourselves starve. And, unfortunately, I couldn't really let that happen.
I motioned at the dog aggressively and started walking away without even checking to see if it was following me. Knowing the bug, it would follow right behind him.
…
As I walked, I was able to think. Particularly, about Wilson and Webber. I knew that my mind was better occupied with other things, but I felt like I needed to figure them out.
Something had happened with Wilson. Something that I couldn't quite answer, but something that could prove quite troublesome in the future at best, deadly at worst. It hadn't happened immediately after his reawakening; he seemed just fine the day before when he came back to us. Webber had seemed to immediately cling on him yesterday, but today, he seemed a bit off as well. Not off as in something happened to him, but he was clearly on edge about something. Did he sense what happened with Wilson?
I carefully turned over a few theories in my head. The obvious answer was that Wilson was not who came back to us. That was the idea I wanted to stick with, particularly so we could kill him and get the situation over with, but something told me it wouldn't be that simple. Besides, the person yesterday had certainly been Wilson, which means that the exchange would've happened some time between last night and this morning. But that wouldn't really make sense, either. What could want to pretend to be Wilson and why? I would think Maxwell, but he seemed to have no interest in directly causing our deaths and was far more amused by the idea of us running around like headless chickens. Plus, why Wilson? If he was an imposter, then he would lose his brain, which was the only thing that actually made him useful.
But that didn't mean...
Suddenly, it felt like a block of pure lead had dropped in my non-existent stomach. No, that was impossible, right?
Surely Wilson wasn't being possessed by something?
The more I thought about it, the more terrified I became.
There was a reason he wanted me to be separated from them.
He's going to do something to Webber.
The knowledge hit me like a brick and I came to a full stop. Despite myself, I could feel waves of terror pulsing through my circuits. One of them gone, I could deal with. If Wilson had to be eliminated or if Webber was killed, I would be able to get by just fine.
But if Webber was killed and all that I was left with was a possessed Wilson...
"COME ON, DOG!" I snapped. Immediately, Popsicle froze and stared at me. Pyrite bumped into him with a little trill, and a puff of steam appeared between them. "IF YOU CARE AT ALL ABOUT YOUR OWNER, YOU BOTH WILL FOLLOW ME." Without checking- I didn't need to- I turned on my heel and sprinted as fast in the direction that they had gone.
I don't know what's going to happen tonight, but I'm going to stop it.
I'm coming.
