The God and The Mushroom Boy

A Bell (Part 9)

(Warning: blood and fight scenes)

"XD!" I scream into the forest. It's been hours and I still can't stop searching. The guilt still fuels me as I push branches away.

     I repeat his name until it doesn't sound like a word, my hand shaking from holding a lantern aloft for so long, and my other arm hanging limply. A gray light inches up on the horizon, I've been searching relentlessly and dawn is rapidly approaching. I bellow one last time before I accept the horrible truth.

"He left me..."

     Of course, it makes sense. I was awful to him, he should have left a long time ago frankly. Instead of breaking down and crying, I merely feel a hollowness. It takes a bit of convincing, but I eventually turn back and walk to his house. It's not mine anymore, he has as much ownership as I did. I lean against a wall and just... stare. The pain isn't even that bad anymore.

     When he left, flew away on a breeze, I had passed out from not breathing right. I hadn't gotten enough oxygen into my system. I woke up minutes later, with no sense of direction and no inkling of which way he had fled. After I had recovered and been able to stand, I grabbed a lantern, equipped my new armor, and set off to search.  From there, it didn't go well...

     I heard a groan and a shuffling. Breaking of branches above. The string of a bow stretched. I immediately dropped the lantern and brought out my sword, ready to face the vile mobs. It happened so fast, one moment I was turning my head in all directions, searching, the next I was attacked. Pounced on from all angles. The spider came from above, its terribly long legs wrapping around my torso as its pincers tried to get purchase on my smooth helmet. At the same time, a rotted being burst from behind a tree, stumbling blindly after me. They were the result of an awful experiment years prior, a zombie of the sort.

"HELP!!' I had cried aloud but to no avail. No one was around to hear.

     The zombie grabbed me and held my arm still as it attempted to bite me. I was nowhere near prepared for this team attack. I had remembered at that instant, I had heard a bow. Almost comically, at that exact moment, an arrow came shooting straight towards my heart. My armor blocked it, but I still couldn't see the archer. I frantically tore at the spider, who was trying a different tactic, it repositioned to the back of my neck, leaning in to deliver the poisonous bite. This spider was easily half my size, terrifying.

     I ripped it off me finally, flinging it into a tree and leaving it immobile. I was struggling with the undead horror when...

Whizz!

     I heard an arrow fly right to me, I see the archer. It is a rotted skeleton, animated by the dark magic used on its ancestors. It pulls the bowstring once more. It happens almost in slow motion, I shove the zombie to the ground and turn only to meet the arrow. I hear, not feel the arrow puncture and stick in my side. The skeleton had kept its aim true and shot in the space between my breastplate and my leggings. I refused to keel over in pain, I couldn't die like this. 

     With a choking sound and a groan as I moved my trembling feet, I fled with speed faster than the stumbling undead creatures. The spider hadn't gotten up and I was grateful. As I ran, my adrenaline started to peter out and the pain came. I yelled with the agony that came with running with an arrow holding my guts in. I didn't stop, hoping to return to XD's cottage before I blacked out. I made it.

      I lean against a wall and stare, anything else leaving my mind as I'm left to deal with my wound. I look at the steady stream of blood flowing from the stick in my side. The arrowhead is completely concealed by my flesh. I slide down on the wall and sit with my legs straight in front of me, my head leaning against the wall. I can't leave myself like this, I must perform some kind of first aid. I come up with a plan in my delusional state. Rip the arrow out quickly and staunch the blood with the bedsheets within reach. Simple. Right?

(Do NOT do this)

    I grab the sheets and hold them at bay. With my other hand, I securely wrap my shaken fingers as tight as they can manage around the shaft of the arrow. With one fluid motion, I tear the arrow from my abdomen and press the fabrics to it. A long, gutteral scream comes from the bottom of my lungs as the imense agony envelops me. My voice gives out and I slump over. It doesn't even hurt anymore...

Pandora's Vault; Dream's prison cell. DreamXD's POV.

'You get one wish.' I telepathically speak to the pair. I had come to see for myself who Dream was, George had kept confusing me for him. I see why. He sounds exactly like me, and he has the same eyes. 

"A way o-" Dream speaks aloud, before getting cut off by his ecstatic prison mate.

"A bell!" A second character interrupts. He reminds me of a pig, with his pink snout and sharp tusks.

'As you wish.' I summon and place a bell before becoming transparent and floating through the solid walls.

     So that was what Dream is. I don't like him.

Me either. A voice echoes in my mind.

No one asked you. I snap back.

Calm yourself, have some blue. It responds drearily.

     My vision is tinted blue as he takes control momentarily, I thrust him back.

Will you quiet for a moment about the blue? I'm trying to think! 

    Anyways. I'm hurt that George said those things, but I figure he needs time to reset. After I get angry over small things, I retreat into my own mind and let Ghostbur take over for a bit while I reset my misplaced anger. Right now I'm flying back to George's house. I've done what I wanted to do, and am ready to apologize to my best friend. I scared him, it's my fault he got so mad. 

     Moments later, I alight on the grass inside the fenceline. Huh, the lights are out. He must've gone back to sleep. It's nearing dawn, the horizon glowing faintly red. I will watch over him as he sleeps like previously. I open the front door as quietly as possible and tiptoe inside. I reach the bedroom, ducking underneath doorframes. I see him laying on the floor.

     In the gray light from the rising sun, I see the gruesome scene in front of me. He is in a ball on the floor, a bloody arrow in his equally bloodied hand, the white and blue sheets ripped from the bed and pressed against his side. A very scary pool of blood is around him, once a puddle reaches this size...

     I press my fingers to his neck, his wrist, checking for a pulse. Then I frantically hold two fingers in front of his lips. No breath comes out.

"GEORGE!!"