The Reign of the Nightmare King (A Don't Starve fanfic)[CURRENTLY ON HOLD]

Chapter Six~ Don't Lose Hope!

I spin around quickly and kick Percival hard in the shin. He doubles over with a yelp, and I run towards the scream. A hunched, tense creature with bulky arms and two incredibly large front teeth stands in Woodie's place.

Phew, I think to myself. Even though the transformation must be terrible for Woodie, we're all used to it by now. At least nothing has gone worse.

As the werebeaver sprints into the woods, Wickerbottom whips out a book with a colorful leather cover and flips through the pages, carefully but swiftly. She steps towards Percival.

"Now dear," she cooes, "I think it's about time for a bedtime story."

Mid- protest, Percival's eyes roll back in his head, and he slumps limply on the ground. Wicker then turns to Maxwell.

"Perhaps I should put you down too, dear."

Maxwell's eyes widen, and he snatches the tome from the old librarian's grip.

"Not today, pal." He turns abruptly and struts into the forest, his hands behind his back. We all exchange glances, and Wes scowls. He's still angry at Percival, and he probably will be for a while. Though he gives off a cheerful and friendly persona, Wes is not quick to forgive.

I turn and jog to catch up with the frail magician, and the others follow. Once I am right behind him, I reach into my pocket and pull out my trusty lighter. I hold it up to his pinstriped suit. The flames lick the fabric, and I grin.

"It's nöt wörth it," a voice cries from behind me. Wigfrid's brow is furrowed. Realizing someone was creeping up behind him, Maxwell squints at us over his shoulder. I whip my lighter behind my back, hoping he didn't see.

"What do you want?" he sneers, irritated.

"What we want," I say, "Is to know why you did this."

"I already told you. What do you want?"

I pause. I have a few options. I could ask a few questions and get a few cryptic answers that would likely be useless. I could plead Maxwell to get Wilson back, but he probably wouldn't help us. I could keep him busy while the others formulate a plan, but I knew Wilson best and would be able to help more than others. Instead, I try something else. I plaster a fake smile onto my face and giggle.

"Ha! You got me there. Silly me. Always... uh... forgetting things." I spin on my heel and push past the other survivors, frowning deeply. They follow me again. There must be something I'm missing; since when was I their leader?

I stop walking once we are out of Maxwell's earshot. I survey each of their faces. The innocent Webber, the knowledgeable Wickerbottom, the demented Wendy, the frightened Wolfgang, the warrior Wigfrid, the upset Wes, the unperturbed Wx-78, and the handy Winona. We could make a great team, but only if we use each of our specialties.

"Look, apparently I'm in charge. If I'm in charge, you guys have got to stop following me," I pause, rubbing my face. I am exhausted, but the idea of sleeping tonight has been thrown out of the window.

"We're sorry," Webber apologizes. "But... we don't know what to do."

"Well, I don't either. My boyfriend is dead. I'm tired and I feel like crud," I sigh, looking at the ground. As much as I would like to sleep, I know that if we ever want to fix this we have to act now. I notice Webber and Wendy giggling, and raise an eyebrow.

"What's up with you two?"

Winona puts her gloved hands on her hips. "Your boyfriend?"

My face burns bright red. That's it. Maybe this is all a dream. I can go to bed and wake up where this isn't happening. I trudge away slowly, back to camp.

"Where is small fire girl going?" Wolfgang scratches his head.

"SHE HAS GIVEN UP. HAHA."

"But we need her!"

"Come back, dear."

"She finally understands the terrible, ruthless world we live in."

I hear their voices, but I don't listen to them. This is all a bad dream. I'll wake up and everything will be like it was before. But I stop walking, because I know that in all the days, months, and years of living in the Constant, I have never once had a dream.