The adventures of the Horror Gang: The horrors within

Chapter nineteen: Is there still hope?

Dylan sat at Boris' table. It was a comfortable feeling and yet an unfamiliar experience. Although Dylan knew about the game, as he had watched and played it, he knew nearly everything about it. However, not as much as Cheyenne.

He stared at the empty doorway, he knew Cheyenne was still in the little room that Boris had told him to leave her in. Its appeal was the same as the whole layout, wood. He stared at the wolf across from him, he was peacefully eating the Bacon Soup Dylan had made him. In exchange for the key to the door whenever Cheyenne woke up, so in the meantime he too had managed to have a bowl. After his long adventure in the world of Undertale, he didn't realise how hungry he really was.

It was nice, almost quite, apart from the gramophone that was playing Boris' theme tune which, the wolf was enjoying as he tapped his to the beat.

"I'm going to check on Cheyenne" Dylan said suddenly breaking the silence. Boris looked at him and nodded as the boy picked up his bowl that he had finished and put it into the sink.

Slowly, he made his way to the door he had been staring at for who knows how long and made his way through it. On the other side, he caught a glimpse of the small bathroom, he saw the familiar cracked mirror as he passed it. He quickly but quietly made his way to the door at the end of the safe house's hallway, Dylan opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking ever so slightly as he pressed down on the handle. Peeking his head through, seeing a familiar sight.

Cheyenne lay almost asleep in the hammock Dylan had put her in. Her breathing matching up with the clock across from her, except, it wasn't. Her whimpers and constant fidgeting made that obvious.

"Cheyenne?" Dylan said, opening the door fully and walking towards her, concerned. Now that he came closer, the boy could really see how uncomfortable his friend was. Her brow was covered in sweat as well as the black ink he had seen her covered in when he had cake round the corner. If he was honest, she looked terrible, her school bag had been placed in the corner of the room when he had came in,

"Boris what should I do with her?" Dylan has asked the friendly wolf. He had pointed at the hammock,

"Right" Dylan had said, placing her down just as gently he had picked her up, luckily, she was light.

Cheyenne's mumbles was what brought him back to this reality.

"Don't" she said, it almost sounded like pleading, "Stop" followed by "No" it was lucky Dylan was there otherwise Cheyenne would of ended up on the floor, her fidgeting had turned into squirming like she was frightened and trying to get away from something.

"Cheyenne" Dylan said, shaking her a little. Nothing. He removed his hand away from his friend's arm. To his surprise, he saw that none of the black substance from her arm hadn't spread onto his hand.

"What?" Dylan said, confused, "Cheyenne?!" He said, shaking her harder than before.

"N-St-Ah!" Her eyes burst open, she sat up straight, terrified. She turned to face Dylan, fear in her eyes.

"Cheyenne?" Dylan asked, "You...Ok?" She shook her head. "I have so many questions" he continued, "What happened to you before I came?" Dylan questioned.

"S-Sammy" Cheyenne Said, "He used ink"

"He what?!" Dylan shouted, "You know what happens if you touch the ink" He said, it was true, they all knew...

Cheyenne shook her head, "The book..." she said, her voice shaky, "It's all true Dylan, all of it..." Dylan couldn't believe what he was hearing. All of it was true...

"You mean. Dreams come to life right?" Dylan asked, Cheyenne nodded. It was a book he had read as he wanted to know more about the story of BATIM. It includes that if someone were to consume the ink from the studio, they would become as Alice Angel described;

"A wiggling, pussing, shapeless slug"

Or more known as a Lost One or Seacher...

"I think he's after me Dylan" Cheyenne Warned, brining the boy back to this reality. His eyes widened as he heard her tone.

Him. The one they all fear.

Or him. The one they all praise.

Either one of them could be on their tail.