//------------------------------// // CHAPTER 16 // Story: EntiQuest [OLD] // by Sputniik //------------------------------// Danny wasn't sure where he was. He wasn't too sure when he had left either, or how he had gotten so far out that he couldn't see past the birch trees anymore. And Danny could've sworn Ivor didn't own a single birch, and there certainly weren't any around his territories. It might as well have been night. The sky was only black, and there wasn't a single rustle of the brush. There was nothing. Only trees. And these trees were tall. They towered over him like a vulture hunched over a carcass. And he felt it's eyes on him, although there was no vulture, and there were no eyes. Danny only kept walking. Like standing still would end him up as a midnight snack for a hungry scavenger. Danny glanced up, chilled under the unusual color of the trees. Their leaves were red-- autumn had barely touched, but it looked as if every individual leaf had been dyed bright red. And now a few leaves had eyes. Big, bright eyes that didn't seem to weigh down the leaf it had sprouted on. It almost looked as if it wasn't there. Or just because eyes didn't belong on trees. "Loosened eyes," something bellowed, that came from the tree. "Loosened eyes..." And maybe all of a sudden, every single leaf of every tree that arched over the grey path and Danny down below, there were bright eyes staring down at him. They made sounds he couldn't quite comprehend. A new color that he hadn't seen before. A bright white splotch of light revealed themselves from behind the trees, swimming around him like giant fish. These things didn't have eyes, and didn't seem to have a body, either. They weren't hollow-- just empty. "Obtuse, distress, distortion," they began to chant as they swam faster. "Coordination, burden, disorder," Their words only blended together, until their sounds were just as meaningless as anything else in this plain world of red trees. And now the bright and blinding red seemed to fall apart from itself, as it's color dripped away like paint or blood. But when a drop or crimson touched the ground, it didn't-- it vanished into the bright white of the swimming creatures. "You were never meant to leave." One said as it swam in tighter, closing the space around and drowning everything else out. And beneath them all, Danny could faintly see a thin stream of water just below the line of the silver grass. "And now, you will drown together, with your brothers." With that, the air had vanished, and there was only water. Danny awoke with a start, sitting up abruptly in bed before he had even realized he was ever laying down. Everything around him hit light lightning as some sort of shock coarsed through his body when he realized he was only in bed. Ivor, in the kitchen, Twilight missing, and Dipper just by his side. He glanced over, oblivious. "You finally up this time?" he seemed to joke, barely removing his eyes from the journal opened up near the middle. "You were talking in your sleep all morning," Along with the final comment, a momentary look of concern crossed his face. Danny furrowed his brows. "I was talking in my sleep?" he parroted, seemingly more confused than Dipper. He never recalled ever talking in his sleep before. Unless no one ever told him so. Plus, he couldn't recall much of whatever he'd dreamed that night. Just faint traces of unintelligible voices and some color he couldn't exactly shake from memory. "Is... that a bad thing?" Dipper asked, raising a brow. "I wouldn't think so. Happens to everyone every once-in-a-while..." He glanced back into the book, but his focus was obviously trained elsewhere. He opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head instead. "But..." He closed his book and glanced back over to Danny, who returned the look. "I mean, were you having a nightmare, or something?" "I'm not sure, why?" The older teen inquired, bringing his knees up to his chest. "I can't really remember what I saw last night. But I'm fine. Happens to everyone every once in a while." He gave a look before inching off the bed and headed off to the storage closet that already had the lights turned on. Twilight must've gone in there. Dipper stopped himself from inquiring further, hugging the book up close. The previous night had certainly been hectic, and it was more than understandable that Danny was only in a sour mood. But he'd get over it soon enough; Danny was always good at getting better. Dipper had sat in thought long enough until Ivor had beckoned him into the kitchen, and he left his books behind. He did cast an eye over every moment, and back over to Ivor. Quills, parchments, paper, parchment paper. Is this how you spend all day, looking through a deranged man's stuff? Parasite had gone on all morning, and seemed to cease to stay silent. There wasn't any room for spare or loose thought, now that all the mare could hear were the complaints of the Parasite. Eventually, it just seemed bored, and poked fun at Twilight just to keep itself occupied. And Twilight soon learned that staying silent herself didn't do much damage. She mentally scolded herself at the mess she was making; scrolls trailed out across the floor, books scattered and flipped open, loose papers everywhere. There was the occasional ink pen, or more modernized paper that still looked aged and ruffled up. There was either little or no writing on these. Perhaps they were more recent. And there were boxes. But not limited to just cubes of cardboard; crates, plastic containers, leather bags, and squared baskets that sat neatly upon every shelf, barely leaving an inch of space between. She'd only glanced through these, only since nothing really caught her eyes, except spare clothes in one, or a collection of pens in the other. And the baskets on the top shelves were mostly empty, except for one or two that held a few miscellaneous items. Note pads, dried markers, rubber bands, some cleaning wipes that should've been discarded long ago. Nothing. Nothing interesting, at least. If you really want to push his buttons, Princess, I suggest you take direct action, instead. Or do you just really like going through his stuff? Shaking her head subconsciously, Twilight placed everything back inside the box, recounting everything back in it's correct order. She shuffled over to the further corner, eyeing another box, one that was semi-open... it wouldn't hurt to look through this one, either, would it? You are really the worst host ever, Princess. Parasite grumbled. You really want me to die, do you? Would you change your set of mind if I decided to call you a murderer? "If that means getting rid of you, then go right ahead and die, then." Twilight hissed, pulling the box over. "You'd be doing me a huge favor. And what'd you be doing for yourself? You only sound more selfish as you go on." For the first time that morning, Parasite had remained quiet. Only a couple hours had gone by, and Twilight had been in near silence. Other than the occasional comment and complaint from Parasite, but it obviously lost it's urge to do more than bug her further. It had become generally quiet, and Twilight was certainly grateful. Three and a half boxes had been rummaged through, now, and there was still nothing truly interesting hidden in these boxes. And this fourth one had been more disappointing than the rest. Inside were two containers, and a few scattered office supplies. Nothing much more than a box of opened staples and more dried out pens. The first container on the left seemed color-coded green. And removing the top, Twilight could only see what looked like... more papers. She shoved past the stack of papers, only to reveal the bottom of the container. Nothing. The second one was instead filled with folders, each a different color. It didn't look like much at all, until Twilight had flipped through the black folder at the bottom, and was greeted by a small slip of paper, not so cleverly hidden among the files inside. "B44-B. Strange..." Twilight muttered, levitating the piece of paper closer to examine. Only it really was just a piece of paper. A really old piece of paper-- at least that was evident enough. She flipped it over, only to gaze over plain backing of the code. Just words on paper. "Where had I seen this before...?" Twilight furrowed her brows, "I swear, I--" A soft ruffle behind her was just enough to aim her attention elsewhere. And suddenly a thin chill swept the storage room. Spinning around, her eyes caught Danny, glancing through one of the baskets along second row of shelves. Her momentary shock vanished. It was only Daniel. "Daniel, what are you--" she stopped herself, eyes focused on the basket, or more particularly, a small white label on the wall behind it, as Danny removed it from the shelf. B42-B Twilight groaned, silently scolding herself again. Had those always been there? "Daniel!" Twilight exclaimed, flittering over and taking the basket into her own hooves as Danny only stared in bewilderment. "How the heck did you find this?" "Find what?" Danny stared back, still clueless as before. "Did... did I do something?" She hadn't replied, and spun back around to the shelf and abandoning the basket to the floor. And, just as she'd expected, along the wall behind each basket was a little white tag, each with it's own code text written over it. Maybe the Princess isn't as bright was she's cracked up to be, hm? Although she'd hate to admit it, the Parasite may've had a point. After all, how long would it have taken her to find these tags simply on the walls, if Daniel had never come in? But then another thought came. Why? Just why, in general-- why would Ivor code the baskets? And why behind the wall? Wouldn't that make it more difficult to find the basket he'd been looking for? And why this one, specifically? Without another moment of hesitation, Twilight scooped up the basket, with it's proud B44-B tag visible as soon as it left the shelf, and peered inside. A... blanket. It look just like the other baskets that had spare clothes in them-- only this one, was a blanket. A peach-colored, old, stained, blanket. It had a disgusting odor to it, too. Like it hadn't been washed in years. It didn't sound too uncanny; there were grey patches of dust and dirt, and colorful stains all over. It almost looked on purpose. She glanced back, at the overturned box at the corner, catching a glance at Danny covering his nose. She glanced around at the baskets again. All the baskets looked the same-- there was nothing to distinguish one from the other. Unlike the boxes, which were an assortment of shapes and sizes, some torn open down the creases, or taped shut. And the sacks and leather bags stuffed against the corners under a rack of clothes that were mostly made up of long jackets and old cloaks. Hiding away from sight, but again, not cleverly hidden. But then there was a basket, and a code that lead to it. Maybe there were more? Was it just an organization technique? A strange one, if so. It may be a bit extreme to code baskets with tags on the walls hidden from plain sight, that Ivor'd have to go through boxes and boxes of folders for. Or he just had exceptional memory. But even that didn't sound too right. "Can you put that away?" Danny had complained, muffled through the jacket he pulled up to shield his face. "It actually smells like a corpse," Twilight brushed the comment off. "What were you doing in here, anyway?" Danny shrugged, dodging her glance. "...I just wanted to look around," he finally answered after a few long moments, gluing his eyes to the ratty ceiling. "Woke up late." He looked about ready to turn around and exit the closet, only he stopped, eyes catching something else that stopped him in his tracks. Twilight stared back, confused for just a brief moment before she decided to follow his gaze, squinting at the corner of the room, the far crevice near the light bulb. It was just a spider web. It looked like there were some stray papers intertwined into the web, too. Now it only looked like a cheap Halloween decoration. Then taking another glance back over to Danny, who continued to stare up at the ceiling in silence. Then Twilight asked something she never expected to hear come out of her mouth. "Are... you afraid of spiders?" Danny seemed to snap back into reality at that, furrowing his brows and forcing his eyes in another direction. "No, that's stupid." he rolled his eyes, "I.. think I have something better to do, anyway. You have fun--" "No, wait." Twilight interjected, "I might need you here for something," She glanced back down at the blanket basket, dragging it out as it's scent only worsened. Dropping the old sheet to the floor, Twilight's eyes glistened as her gaze fell upon what looked like a collection of glass beakers. Was this what Ivor had been trying to remember? Twilight thought, lifting one of the beakers out of the basket with care, this one the largest out of the rest. It had a strange, green tint to it. It wasn't glass-stained that way-- at least it didn't look like it. But more like an old stain from some sort of fluid, or acid, that left a sickly looking color to the inside of the glass. This smelled, too. Much like the blanket, but much worse. It was almost nauseating. One the bottom of the glass, was a small yellow tag, with dull blurred writing over the bottom. It certainly had to be old, if the ink had worn away from the tag. But there was another tag, on the side of the beaker that was more white in color. It seemed like some sort of off-white, like the tag had been aged enough to change it's color. This tag had a single number on it. "Seventeen," Twilight muttered, reading the small pair of numbers that were now barely visible. "Something about that doesn't set too right with me," Danny narrowed his eyes, backing away from the beaker just a footstep. "That number, it's..." "Wait," Twilight neared the boy, glass still in her grasp. "Maybe you remember something about this? What does it smell like?" "Wait, wait, hold on!" Danny backed up against the wall, glaring at the bottle as if it'd personally offended him. "It's literally just a number. Besides, what does sniffing that thing do any good for? I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of what I should be doing," "Your taint, Daniel," Twilight reminded, albeit coldly. "If you're going to be stuck with something, you might as well put it to good use!" "What?" Danny breathed, threading his fingers through his hair, "I-I don't even know how that works! And I'm pretty sure that's more of a dog thing," She hadn't had to say anything but a look in her eyes before Daniel had winced, and took the beaker into his hands.