Chapter Text
Normally, I have better judgment when it comes to something like this. Normally, I would have never gotten myself into this situation in the first place, but I was desperate for knowledge.
Normally, I’d take a challenge like this with tact and care, wringing it through the scientific method and looking for any way to escape, but I am desperate to escape.
I’ve been here for ages, watching hours become days, and days become weeks. Strapped to this God-forsaken chair that Maxwell was so kind to leave me was starting to grate on my nerves. My mind was starting to drift from my nerves and isolation.
The dark tendrils and claws that anchored me to the Throne were starting to bruise my limbs. I have to get out of here before I completely lose my mind any more than I already have. I dug my nails into the armrests.
Maxwell had vaporized into dust before my very eyes, so he couldn’t help me. I was alone, stuck in this nightmarish world of death after death after death. Thankfully, the shadows on the Throne didn’t restrict my movement too much-- just enough to prevent me from sitting comfortably.
I didn’t have much on me. I had a few now-spoiled berries, gems, and a useless blob of nightmare fuel. In fact, the only thing that managed to survive the whole journey here was a broken spear and my all-to-valuable telelocator staff. Nothing that I could use to escape this place.
Unless…
A lightbulb went off in my head. Moving quickly, I rummaged through my stuff, taking out the telelocator staff. The staff only had one two uses left, so I had to make them count. One to get out of the nightmare Throne, and another to escape wherever this place is. With luck, I’ll be able to find my own base.
I attempted to use the telelocator staff on myself. The purple gem embedded in its claws of wood glowed fairly, then fizzled out, the shadows having strangled it. I could hear them laughing at me from the shadows, mocking me. I gritted my teeth in frustration.
I slumped back into the chair, defeated. Maybe it is impossible to escape the Throne. I know Maxwell tried a lot of things himself in order to attempt to escape, ranging from sheer force of will to more… barbaric measures I’d rather not think about.
I stared at my backpack. It is waiting patiently at the base of the Throne, next to my foot, like an all-too loyal dog. The telelocator staff was still in my hands, waiting for something, anything to teleport.
Maybe I’ll never get out of here. Maybe I’m doomed to pay for my disproportionate crime of flipping the wrong lever. I wish the knowledge that was given to me had any use at all, outside of building that stupid portal to this nightmare world I call the Constant. A constant pain is what it is. A constant pain of misery that I’ll never be able to escape.
What am I saying? I can’t give up that easily! No man of science could give up on a problem that easily! Did Newton give up on his pursuits? Did Socrates? He’s not a scientist, but still! The point stands! I can’t give up! Not now!
I stood up. Yes, I was going to escape this wretched place, there wasn’t a single doubt in my m-
The hands pulled me back down. Right, I almost forgot about those.
My vigor faded. I can’t leave, not with these hands holding me back. Think, Wilson! How would someone get out of this situation? How can someone get out of this situation?
I had an idea. I reached into my bag, pulling out the gems. I set them in my lap, then started to pull apart the top of the telelocator staff, the warped wood creaking as I pulled it apart. Perhaps I could over-charge it somehow?
The Throne tightened its grip on my arms. After I pried apart the top of the staff, I began to shove more gems into the top, using the somewhat flexible wood to shove more gems into the top.
The Throne was starting to draw blood as I worked, beginning to leave deep gashes in my already scarred arms. I need to work faster.
Once I was done, I examined what I’ve made. The top of the staff now had a few more gems lodged into it, with the wood re-twisted around the cluster of gems. It looked like a mess, but it might work. Might.
The Throne’s grasp on me was beginning to tighten. I stood up, tasing the staff above my head, preparing to teleport. The gems glowed like a star above me, illuminating the normally dim room. The shadow hands briefly recoiled, then dug their claws into me, desperate to keep me there.
The gems glowed brighter, and started to crack, with fractures splitting the gems like a jigsaw puzzle. I wasn’t too worried about an explosion, but I was worried about this not working.
I struggled against the grasp of the Nightmare Throne, trying to keep the staff above my head. The staff needs plenty of room for the teleportation to work.
Admittedly, even if this did work, I’m not sure how far it would take me. It might just move me an inch away from the throne, which would be useless. Or, it would take me back to that volcano I found while I was sailing. That would be awful.
One of the tendrils wrapped around my neck and tightened, restricting my breathing. I gripped the staff tighter as the hands tried to pry it away from me, knuckles turning white.
In a flash of brilliance, the gems in the staff shattered. For a split second, I was horrified; thinking that the staff broke before it could teleport. The Throne engulfed me, clawing at my flesh, trying desperately to pull me back into the chair. Shadow hands covered my eyes, blocking my vision. They pulled at my face and limbs, leaving long, bloody claw marks on my body, cutting through my managed clothing like a hot knife through butter. I should have just given in-- it would have been less painful.
I couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, could barely even think. I clawed at my throat with one hand, trying to get the suffocating tendrel away. Tears filled my eyes, and I could see the shadow creatures making their way towards me. No, no no no--
This was a… a mistake! A grave error! This was a terrible Idea why the heck did I think this was a good idea? Nothing could escape from this hellscape, not even the man who basically created a majority of it. This is a nightmare, and absolute, inescapable nightmare that I was doomed to be trapped in. Why did I think this was--
Suddenly, all of the things that were holding me were gone. For a brief moment I felt like I was floating. Everything-- the ground, the walls, the shadows-- felt so far away. It was a welcome relief although it was short-lived.
I gasped for air, eyes still trying to adjust to the brightness. I landed on my own two feet, and then collapsed to my knees. Choking on my own saliva and digging my fingers into the soil, I tried to get a handle of where I was. Everything spun around me. I shook my head to no avail.
I could feel stray patches of grass under my hands. The area smelled different; it didn’t have the same dull smell of dirt and rotting grass that the places I’ve visited had. There was a twinge of sweet in the air, possibly from some sort of fruit? I can’t tell.
I forced my eyes open. I was welcomed with the sight of the blurry canopy of leaves above me. Normally, that wouldn’t be anything special, but these trees looked... different. They didn’t look as scraggly or as hostile as the ones I was used to. They seemed quite healthy actually, sporting some bright green leaves-- a sign of new growth, if I remember my botany correctly.
I relaxed a bit. Wherever I was, It was far better than the throne room. I got out. I escaped! I managed to do the seemingly impossible! I’d celebrate if I wasn’t so sore and lost. Maybe I should walk around and get my bearings? Maybe I could find my base from here.
Carefully, I forced myself to my feet. It was painful, thanks to the gashes on my legs, but it was doable. My backpack was next to my feet as well, although the only thing inside it now was rot and a blob of nightmare fuel.
I dumped the rot and fuel out of my backpack and examined it. It seemed fine, even though it had a few holes. I slung it over my shoulder and started to walk in a random direction. Perhaps I could find something to use as a bandage or some honey for a poultice--
My stomach growled.
--And some food. Definitely some food.
-
I’ve been waking for what feels like hours. I know it’s only been thirty minutes at most, but it feels like an eternity.
I was sore and starving. Wherever this place must not have a whole lot of rabbits or even beefalo for me to eat. There were some berries, but I couldn’t recognize them. They could be poisonous.
My stomach growled in protest. It was actually starting to become painful. I’ve starved to death before, so I’m used to it-- as awful as that sounds-- but that doesn’t mean I enjoy it.
I stopped at a bush. Pink, peach-shaped berries with small yellow speckles adorned the bush like jewels on a crown. They certainly looked poisonous, although my stomach disagreed.
Saliva was starting to build up in my mouth. I grabbed a berry cautiously, then popped it into my mouth. It was pleasantly sweet and watery, a bit like a tamer version of sweet berries. Strangely, it was also hollow on the inside, a sort of like those giant strawberries I’d sometimes find growing near my house.
I ate another, and then another, and then another. They didn’t taste poisonous, but they could be deceptive. Maybe I should stop eating them in case they are.
Despite my stomach’s protesting, I stopped. They weren’t very filling, and I still felt very hollow inside, but at least I won’t die of hunger or poison. Not today at least. I could find more food later on, one that isn’t as likely to be poisonous.
My hands were covered in juice, the berries being a bit more tender than I thought. I wiped my hands on my shirt, smearing juice and blood over my torn vest. Right, the bleeding. I have to stop the bleeding.
I looked at my arms and legs. The gashes didn’t seem too deep, but they could easily get infected If I couldn’t cover them up with something. I grabbed some broad leaves from a nearby plant-- hoping to God that it wouldn’t irritate my skin-- and wrapped the gashes with them. I probably should have washed the leaves first, but at least I wouldn’t lose any more blood.
I swallowed, becoming aware that my throat was now sore. I brought a hand up to my neck and poked it, wincing as a dull pain engulfed my windpipe. My neck, and possibly my windpipe, were bruised. Hopefully that will heal on its own. I’m not very skilled at treating neck wounds.
I sat down next to a rock, staring up at the sky. It was starting to get dark, and I didn’t have anything to make a fire.
Terror gripped me. I sprang back up to my feet, much to my body’s dismay, and frantically struggled to grab something, anything to make a fire with. I settled on a bunch of twigs and leaves. Thankfully, I was able to get a fire going rather quickly. I sat next to it watching the fire.
Night fell like a transparent curtain. Smoak from the fresh leaves and twigs billowed into the sky, fading to nothing above me. Shadows flickered with the fire, although a few looked… suspicious.
Despite the full moon being over a week away, the night time wasn’t as dark as it usually was. Rather than anything outside of the fire being swallowed up by the darkness, I could actually see a fair distance out from the fire. It was still dark, but it was less dark than it usually was.
I suppose I should be comforted by that. The Gru won’t be able to attack me if I need to flee, but it still seemed… unnerving. This is not how nightime usually works. Did something happen to the Nightmare Throne? Did I break it? I hope not, otherwise there might be… problems.
I leaned back against the rock, staring up at the stars, going limp. I was tired, very tired. It was like all of those nights I’d skipped sleeping caught up with me all at once. Normally, I’d be able to stay awake and not feel any sort of side-effects of sleep deprivation, other than the shadow creatures appearing, but that would happen eventually anyway.
I could feel myself starting to fall asleep, despite my rising anxiety levels. My eyelids started to feel like lead weights. Despite my instincts screaming at me to stay awake, despite my struggles and turmoil, despite all of my best efforts, I fell asleep, nestled next to a rock and a small fire.