What if... (hfjONE-shots)

Tomato Wasn't Eliminated (Pt.8)

Heyo Edgelings!!

We are officially into November... you know what that means?

LIAM

BACKPACK!!!!

NOTES

T-SHIRT!!!!

I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED I NEED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RIGHT NOW!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

*clears throat*

Anywho, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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An abyss of darkness washed the world in its depths. The ocean where the light of the sun could not penetrate, the shadow of the planet casting a sea of black above. The waves of winds swirled and spiraled in the depths, whispering to the swaying leaves, bending to and fro in the currents of the night. The surface was dotted with sparkling lights, moving slowly across the dark waters of the sky.

Submerged in the moving stillness of the after-dark, a backpack stared up at the starry surface ebbing and flowing above him. The tide of the night had risen to its peak, the shade of the new moon unable to pierce the fluid darkness. Backpack had been tracing mental lines between the stars for what must've been hours now. Everyone else had been asleep for a long time.

Yet his mind, restless with suppressed, unanswered questions would not let him join them in their peaceful underwater rest. He drifted on the surface of his subconscious, unable to fully submerge himself in sleep. His fingertips brushed over the sea of starry thoughts blinking restlessly in his mind as he tried to connect the lines between them to form a cohesive picture.

But just like the real stars twinkling above him, none of the lines came together quite right, there was a missing star, an odd angle, something out of place in the grand mosaic of bright thoughts in his brain. The inability to connect the lines kept his thoughts churning, a strange heavy emptiness forming in the pit of his stomach.

No one seemed as bothered by the strangeness of today. Why? Why did he feel this way? He tossed and turned, the cool, smooth grass beneath him compressed from all his restless rolling.

Eventually, with a quiet, defeated sigh, Backpack gave up his last hope of sleep, sitting up and stretching. With silent movements, he stood and tiptoed his way around the sleeping object laying all around him. Everything in his vision was gray and black, strange and staticy in texture. It was difficult to make out the dark outlines of his companions, but he did manage to make his way out without stepping on anyone.

Now what?

Backpack glanced around, in front of him was the blackened circle left from a previous campfire, behind him was the towering cliff with the waterfall spilling over the edge, the water in the pool below reflecting the specks of light in the sky. To his right, the gray, bulky cabin and to his left, the tall, dark outlines of trees lining the meadow.

He was about to head toward the shore of the waterfall to ponder, when a flicker of light amidst the trees caught his attention. He squinted at the faint, orangish glow shining through the dense, black tree trunks. Drawn like a moth to a flame, his curiosity dragged him toward the source, his footsteps quiet on the cool ground.

He weaved his way through the forest, the ground beneath his feet slowly transitioning from grass to packed, dead leaves. Eventually, he came out in a tiny little clearing, a fallen, dead tree laying across the decaying leaf litter. Perched comfortably atop the log, surrounded by the lighter gray outlines of lichen growing on the bark, was the source of the warm light.