That's what he said.
Just... waiting.
Yep.
He won't come out.
What? But Hopelessness said...
I know what Hopelessness said. Now I'm just saying. He won't come out.
We have to do what we're told.
Oh of course. Of course we do, Uselessness.
We wait.
We keep guard.
Right. We just keep guard.
We don't have to, though.
What?
We don't have to stay here, standing guard in the middle of the night.
What are you talking about?
Imagine how pleased the others will be if we end this.
But wait...
We sneak in, find him, destroy him while he sleeps. Imagine. Job done.
Wait though, Loneliness, we can't just...
Job done. And you could use your skills to find him. And I could crush him with barely a whisper. A silent arrow, snaking through the night and... Done. He won't know what happened.
---
Where I hide my hope? I don't understand why everything has to be so cryptic. Just tell me what to do! My Hope is quite safe with me, in this bag. In fact, I need it; I can't fight without it! Is that what she meant? Sometimes the Maker makes everything but sense.
It is still dark. The Moon is beaming through the canopy of leaves above me. There's a silver curtain of light, pooling onto the forest floor.
I reach into my bag and pull out the photograph. That's weird. There's something else attached to it. What is that?
A small piece of paper flutters out. It's post-card sized, parchment, kind of old. I don't remember it being in there. As I unfold it I see that someone has typed letters onto it with an old-fashioned printing press or typewriter. The letters are faded but in the moonlight I can see the word MALEDIVO. What is that? Who's Maledivo? And where did this come from? Was it her? in the dream? Was it a dream? Why? What does all this mean? I'm tired, and more than a little angry. And I still have to choose what to do. Soon the sun will be up.
Something cracks like a gunshot.
The leaves rustle. Electricity shivers through my body. The Moon flickers for a moment. What is that? I'm alert. But nothing is moving. Everything is still.
I can't see it in the dark. I shuffle back against the moss and the leaves that have collected in the nook of the tree. I breathe in. I close my eyes. I breathe out. I loosen my grip on the satchel. Whatever it is, it seems to have.
I can't breathe. I'm being squeezed from the middle. The air is collapsing in my lungs and my eyes bulge as my skin tightens. I gasp for a breath but the forest is spinning and there is no oxygen. Something powerful is coiling itself around my chest, great ugly fingers like snakes, squeezing me tighter. I smash them with fists but it's too late. Suddenly I'm thirty feet in the air, far above the hollow of the tree, through the leaves and above the forest.
The air is cold. I see stars, the horizon, trees and an enormous set of yellow teeth under a pair of glimmering eyes. It is Uselessness and he has me.
There's nothing I can do. The world spins through stars, moon and dawn, past leaves and trees, silver and dark, upside-down and tumbling. I scream but no-one can hear my whimpering voice. The world is a wood, filled with the sound of thundering footsteps, splintering branches and crackling leaves in the dark.
--
I don't know what happens next. I feel the air rush back into my lungs and at a thousand miles an hour, the forest swims into focus. I'm in a sea of branches, twigs, leaves and scratches, twisting and turning through them like a rag doll. There's a shout from somewhere. Then, with a thud, ripped and bleeding, I thump into the forest floor. Everything is black.
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