Will the Wise

Chapter 2

Will was still at home. It was just that home had...changed. It was darker, and colder, and there were vines and tendrils crawling along the walls all around him. Had the monster done something? Was it Will that had changed the world like this, when he had reached inside himself? Could he undo it?

This was all that Will let himself wonder before running back into his house, away from the creature.

Its face. It had opened up. Like some sort of disgusting plant. Like each fifth was a grotesque, misshapen petal.

Will didn't let himself look around once he left the shed, only at the door back door of his house. He could see that there were millions of white and translucent somethings floating through the air (ash? dust?), and that everything was lit with a blue-tinged light. The vines that he had seen in the shed earlier were snaking all over his house, and they almost looked moldy. Dead. Although he knew – he wasn't sure how – that they were alive. He almost felt like they were going to suddenly jump out and attack him, wrap their slimy, rotting fingers around his arms and throat, and trap him. Throttle him.

Then he was pushing the back door open (he noticed that it was covered in some sort of clear, wet membrane) and hurrying into the hall, where he ran into his room and shut the door. He pushed at the lock desperately, but it wouldn't click into place: it was rusted stiff. Instead, he grabbed his desk chair, and, with a little gasp from the effort, lifted it over to the door, and pressed it up against it. A barricade. As soon as the door was secure, he curled up next to it, bringing his knees to his chest, and tried to quiet his breathing. Could the monster move the chair, the way it unlatched the front door? He looked up at the door, and looked over to his desk, where he had left some of his books. He cursed himself silently for not thinking of picking one up, so he could throw it, should the monster come through the door. But the sound of the monster's heavy steps, and that awful chittering noise, kept him down, out of sight.

He waited, chest rising and falling rapidly, shaking all over, and watched the door. Listened as the steps became louder and louder. Waited for the moment went the monster would come crashing through his door, to kill him. He tried to stop himself from thinking about what would happen then, if it would eat him, or take him away for something else. Instead, he just stared hard at the door, hoping hoping hoping that it wouldn't hear him, that it couldn't smell him, that it would continue on and leave him be.

He wondered if it would hurt.

The footsteps got slowly louder, louder (he wondered why it was just walking – it knew he was cornered, it thought it had him caught already) louder, until the very floor shook with each step, until they reached the door to Will's bedroom, and he clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, and then –

They continued.

Past the door, down the hall. Will heard the sound of the door opening and shutting, gently.

About a hundred thoughts raced through his head in that moment. The monster could have left, but that didn't make any sense. Maybe it couldn't get past the barricade after all, which meant it could still be in the living room, waiting for Will to come out.

Which brought Will to the next person who could've opened the door. Or, more specifically, two people. "Jonathan," he whispered. And then, more urgently, "Mom!"

The world was changed, but it was still the same world as before. His brother and mom probably had no idea what was going on – they could have both been at work, when suddenly the world went dark. Or worse, they could have been driving home, when suddenly the street lights flickered away. When suddenly, the fog came, and along with it, those vines, which still terrified him so much.