Into the Darkness Second Draft

Your World, Colored

"What just happened?" Samantha asked, staring at the brown log.

"I'm not sure. Was that log there before?"

"Uh, I don't know. Try it again."

"Try what again? I didn't do anything!" He exclaimed.

"Whatever you just did! You dropped your pencil."

"Oh, Okay, what should I try it on?" Doug grabbed the box of colored pencils again and pulled out the brown.

"Try the branch." Samantha said, holding out the stick they had been using to find their way.

Doug took it from her and gently pressed the tip of the pencil against it. For a second nothing happened, and then like water being absorbed by a napkin, color started to seep out from the point of contact. Gaining momentum, the color spread quickly, and soon, the branch was consumed by the color.

"Ahem!" Came a voice from somewhere nearby, causing Doug to drop the stick.

"Watch it," said the voice.

Doug looked around for the source of the voice, and then at Sam, who just shrugged and shook her head.

"Down here." Sitting on the brown log was what could only be described as a black blob.

"Um, hello?" Doug addressed it.

The blob shifted, and something looked familiar to Doug, but he couldn't place it. "Hello," it said, "I love what you're doing with the place!" The voice was deep and throaty, almost hoarse.

Samantha picked the now completely brown stick up and knelt, "What is it?" she asked as she moved the stick closer to the blob.

"Hey! I said watch it!" And the blob jumped away, into the surrounding blackness.

"Are you a frog?" Doug asked, recognizing the movement. Peering into the blackness around them, he was unable to find the creature again.

"Yep, and I'm right here." The amphibian hopped back onto the brown log, keeping an eye on Samantha, and more importantly, the stick.

In turn, Sam screwed up her face and shuddered. "Ewwww."

"Well, excuse me miss! Next time I'm born, I'll remember that you do not like frogs."

"It's just that frogs are so," she shuddered, "slimy."

"Then don't think of me as a frog, think of me as Gottfried."

"Gottfried?" Samantha peered closer at the black blob. "You have a name?"

"Don't you, miss?"

"Oh, uh, my name is Sam- Samantha."

"And you can call me Doug," the young man beamed.

"Well, Sam Samantha, and Doug, it's a pleasure, now-"

"Just Samantha."

"Right then, as I was saying, Samantha and Doug, it's a pleasure to meet both of you." Gottfried raised one of his front legs, as if to shake hands, and then awkwardly put the limb back down, catching himself. "Now, would you mind telling me how you did that number with the wood?"

"What, this?" Doug took the stick back from Samantha, and held it before the frog. "I just broke it off a tree back there," He looked around, and then waved his hand dismissively behind him.

"Yes, yes, I know how sticks come to be, but why is it brown."

"Oh, I don't know."

While the two exchanged words, Sam sat back down, her back against a black tree.