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The hooded figure dragged his dirtied longsword along the dirt, leaving a damp trail of black mud in its wake. His shoulders heaved as he stepped out of the forest found deep in Thomas’ Imagination.
Something had been wrong; very wrong.
All of the sides were graying - their powers and effect on Thomas dwindling. Nothing could go wrong within the mindscape, they’d been so sure of it.
They all took a trip into the Imagination; safety in numbers they had thought.
That was what the man could only guess was about two weeks ago. They’d been surrounded instantly, Virgil being grabbed by many of the enemies and taken off to god-knows-where. The remaining Sides all ran into different directions, and he’d yet to see the others since.
With a wipe of his brow, the figure stopped, looking down at the thick black goop on his blade from the monsters that were attacking Thomas.
It started as simple hallucinations - seeing things out of the corner of his eyes. But with how Thomas’ brain worked, how the sides worked, simple hallucinations very quickly had the ability to become not-so-simple.
He could only imagine how Thomas was doing. He had none of his sides at his side to help him though what was probably a very mentally and emotionally painful time. He stood in the middle of what he could only guess used to be a beautiful flower field, considering he was still on Roman’s side of the Imagination.
The clearing was all dirt and weeds now.
He hoped Roman was still alive.
A twig snapped behind him, and he gripped the sword he had found in a village blacksmith. Holding his breath, he listened to the low, guttural sounds that came from the shadow creatures. He brought the sword in front of him, holding it up with two hands, and he quickly spun with the gracefulness of a ballet dancer.
The beast, who was no more than a few inches behind him was sliced in two, more of the black ooze spraying him and his sword. Soon more growls and snarls occupied the silence, surrounding him.
He spun around in a circle, a burst of wind knocking his hood off. The logical side huffed, pushing his cracked glasses back up his nose. His face - dirty with smudged ooze and mud - was distinctly more grave than usual.
He was determined to find Virgil and the others.
The beasts closed in on him and he huffed, feeling frustration boil up inside him after keeping composed for two long weeks.
“Come at me, you mother-fuckers! All of you! Do you hear me?!” He screamed toward the gray, cloudy sky as a few raindrops hit his face. “I will kill you all and get my family back!”
He grit his teeth and swung his blade, pissed at himself now for attracting the attention of any other nearby shadow creatures. His arms ached as he fought, not wincing anymore as the creatures ‘blood’ dirtied him more.
Logan was getting better at this.
The group of shadows were dead and soaked up by the ground quicker than even he expected, but he wasn’t done yet.
The bushes rustled across the field as a much smaller shadow came out into the clearing. But something was different about this one. Instead of standing on four legs like the rest of the shadows did, this one was on two, but it look awkward, like it should be standing on four legs.
The goop that made up the shadows writhed and pulsed, like it was fighting its nature of what to be. What to do.
Logan adjusted his glasses once more, readying his sword and squinting at the shadow. He yelled, whether at the shadow or just in general, as he rushed forward.
Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the creature.
Logan skidded to a stop, sword dropping to the ground with a thud, as his eyes widened in horror.
The shadow creature had dark purple plaid patches across its body. But more than that, deep inside the creature, was Virgil.
He seemed to be unconscious, but he was in there.
Logan held back his vomit at the thought of almost killing the other if that lightning hadn’t struck when it had. Other shadows walked out of the forest where the Virgil-shadow was.
Roman…Janus…Remus.
His breath sped up as he could feel himself hyperventilating.
Patton.
Patton wasn’t in there.
That meant he might still be him!
Logan looked at his friends - his family - feeling his eyes burn with tears. “I will come back for you all. I promise. If I can save you, I will.”
Each one of his friends’ shadows stepped forward, but their bodies seemed to be fighting against the movement. Logan picked up his muddy sword and took some steps back, not wanting to risk having whatever was happening to them also happen to him.
“Keep fighting whatever they are doing to you. Please. Don’t die on me.” Logan choked on his tears as his voice cracked.
He took one last look at his friends as another bolt of lightning illuminated his friends. He swallowed his fear, his worry, his love, for them and turned to go find Patton, hoping they could figure out how to fix this.