Scribbles

Oh. My. Disney. I broke my crayon.

"Sweet mother of monkey milk! RALPH!!"

"This is the perfect time to pa-NO! LET GO OF BUZZ!!"

"HELP ME!"

"GET OF-*KRRZZK*"

Countless cries of mercy bounced like a ping-pong ball in Mickey's head as he began to mindlessly scribble on a paper. He was in the Heroquarters' medical facility and he requested drawing paper to get rid of the tearful nightmares that swirl in his head like Chernabog's ghosts. The mouse loves drawing, and it was one of the many ways to relieve him from any kinds of negativity he encounters or feels. On the drawing paper is what looks like a headshot of Mickey himself, but the linear contours were off thanks to the crying erupting in his mind. Mickey's relaxation came to static when suddenly, Goofy's signature scream echoed loudly in the atmosphere of the facility. It grew closer and the door bursted open to reveal the lanky dog himself. He leaned by the door exhaustingly and was limping to a chair seated right next to the door on his left. Green ooze was dripping from his mouth and his eyes were swollen from lime-green tears. He took a seat and hanged his head down numbly.

I must be seeing things!

Mickey rubbed his eyes furiously and saw even more figures enter the medical facility. One figure, Jack Skellington, was lying dramatically on one of the hospital beds and cried for help like a stage-player awaiting his love to join him. Another figure that the mouse can see was Donald Duck, who was squirming on his bed while quacking in desperation. Sage green was bleeding from the duck's knuckles and neck and Mickey's heart grew ill to the sight of his damaged friend. Sulley and Boo were hugging the sake of each other on another bed and thanks to this scene, Mickey's heart ached even more with deep emotions pounding on him like a hammer.

This is not real, this is definitely not real.

The zombie-like Heroes turned their heads slowly to face a quivering Mickey who tightened his crayon on his right hand. He was muttering with a scared tone trailing in his voice and the ill Heroes began to moan and pleaded for medicine, oblivious to the fact that Mickey is not a doctor.

Worse, even more zombie Heroes came in.

100+ figures approached and crowded around the mouse, with some reaching their hands to him while others drooled. Mickey wanted to hold his screaming to prevent any further consequences and instead looked for a way to escape them. It seems as if escape passages are closed and Mickey felt that this illusion turned out to be real.

Mickey.

The mouse suddenly heard his name and looked around to find the source of the voice. Unfortunately, some Heroes were towering over him, so it was difficult for him to locate the voice.

Mickey!

The voice grew louder and the mouse kneeled up from his bed and searched the crowd. Suddenly, he felt a light shake in front of him.

MICKEY!

Rubbing his eyes, the zombies vanished from Mickey's vision and all he can see now is General Polaris, leading commander of the Disney Hero Battle Force. "Mickey, can you hear me?! Please tell me your wounds are not getting worse! I can't afford to lose you!", Polaris shrieked as the mouse wondered about his 'wounds'. He checked his arms to see a cast wrapped around his elbow and another one on his chest.

Oh, I...remember now. It was due to that swarm of Creeps.

"They're...they're not getting worse, general.", Mickey responded weakly. Polaris sighed in relief and offered the mouse to lie down. The general went to the sink and grabbed a clean cup to pour fresh water in(he used actual drinking water through a filter, not the sink kind). After doing said action, he gave the cup of water to Mickey who stared at his failed doodle. "That's a nice drawing you made Mickey.", the general complimented. "Uh, thanks.", Mickey took a sip.

Even though I realized that I messed up on the outlines. Oh well.

"I heard screaming when I was at the Yellow Trial Team dorms dusting. I rushed over to make sure no Creep got in here and found you cowering on the bed. Did you have a nightmare or....?"

"I'm just scared."

Polaris picked up Mickey's drawing and studied it: the contours were terribly off and the left eye resembled scrambled and untied yarn. The mouth was supposed to resemble a true smile due to the perfect downward curve, but ended up in wild curves later on. It was still a good drawing at least, especially the attempted shading, but he blames the nightmare that distracted Mickey from drawing nicely. "Would you like to tell me about this nightmare you have?", Polaris requested.

"It's not really a nightmare, but it's an optical illusion I had. But...I guess I'll tell about it."

Recalling the images of the zombie-like Heroes moaning on beds and swarming around the mouse, Polaris' heart felt sick and stared at the drawing again. The nightmarish illusions must have dealt unproportionate damage to the outline of the doodle and set unfortunate results. Setting the paper down in front of the mouse, the general bent down a little and hugged him tightly.

"We're all scared Mickey. You're not the only one."

With General Polaris patting him, Mickey grew relieved and sniffed a bit. He accidentally let go of his crayon and leaned on his commander's shoulder. Scooping the mouse up, the general picked the stray crayon off from the facility's floor and grabbed the drawing. He looked at it one more time and not minding the art mistakes that his survivor made, Polaris smiled. With Mickey nesting on his shoulder, the general headed out the door and went back to the Heroquarters to cook up a small meal for the mouse and think of a plan to save the fallen members of the DHBF.

Hopefully, his mind won't get too scrambled.