[Don't Starve] Someone I'm Close To {Maxwil}

Chapter 5- His Mind

One moment, Wilson was curled up next to his sister in her tent. The next, he was standing again in the chasm from which he'd rescued Maxwell an innumerable amount of time ago. The place looked the same as how it was in his last dream. The stairs and the potted plants were still there, but no one was present except for him. He sucked in his breath as he surveyed his surroundings. All he saw was shadows and small flames flickering on the columns leading to the throne. He didn't dare make a sound, for fear that someone was watching him. Quietly as he could, he tiptoed forward a little, inspecting the throne closely. It looked about the same as the last time he'd seen it, and there was no red feather in the chair this time. 

"I must be dreaming." He thought to himself. 

Dreaming he was, but this was no ordinary dream. 

"if this really is a dream, I should be able to do whatever I want, right?" He reasoned and willed a torch to appear in his  hand. Nothing happened. He tried checking his inventory and there was nothing there. He tensed up, panic slowly beginning to trickle through his systems. 

"Come on, come on..." This time he said it aloud. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to manipulate a single aspect of this dream. He was rendered completely defenseless in an image developed by his own mind.

"Focus, Wilson." He told himself. By this point, he was completely aware he was dreaming. He just couldn't seem to do anything about it. Anything could happen, he figured, and he needed to be alert. 

Suddenly there was the sound of shoes clicking against the stony floor of the chasm. High-heeled shoes. Wilson bit his lip. The sound was coming from behind him, and he dared to turn around for a look. 

About five meters behind him stood a woman wearing the same dress he'd seen in an illusion earlier that day. Her face looked blurry, and shadows danced across it as she walked, so it was hard to tell what she looked like. Her hair was short and raven-black, identical to the color of Wilson and Willow's hair. on her head, she wore a little black hat, and in that hat was a red feather. 

Wilson drew in a sharp breath. "Who...who are you?" He choked out, his throat becoming dry. 

The woman simply smiled and raised a gloved hand into the air, snapping her fingers. In an instant the setting changed to a blinding white room. Wilson groaned at the sudden change of lighting and went to cover his eyes, but found he couldn't move his arms. They were frozen in front of him, holding something silver and metal. His eyes focused on the item his fingers were wrapped around. It was a gun.

He tried to will himself to wake up, or at the very least move, but he couldn't. He was frozen, and on the inside he was petrified of what this nightmare had in store for him.

A dainty hand touched him on the shoulder. The scientist could move his eyes, so he looked over and saw it was gloved in black, but he couldn't turn his head to see who it belonged to. 

"Do it." Said a voice. Wilson assumed it belonged to the person who owned the hand. Her voice was medium-pitched and American. He had to admit, it was slightly intimidating, as well. 

"Do what?" His voice cracked on the last syllable. 

The hand raised itself from Wilson's shoulder and pointed forward.

Oh, god. Wilson's eyes slowly moved to see what was in front of him. He felt his heart stop for a moment as he saw a person standing in front of him. Willow. 

"N-no!" Wilson said before he could stop himself. He heard a click and felt something metal against the side of his forehead. Another gun.

"Do it, and you live. Don't, and she watches you die." The feminine voice said. "Tell me, which one do you think is worse?"