"Oh NO!...Someone stole our BEST friend!!!" exclaimed Willis, already clambering over the fallen book in pursuit of the mysterious figures, failing to register that his other best friend, the one made from the rearranged meat of a serial killer, had refused to budge.
"Freeemp" said the fermented creature, dejectedly.
Willis skittered to a halt, fortunately having not gone terribly far on his tiny limbs. "Huh?? What's wrong??" he said as he puttered back to his companion.
Isaac made a little, wet huffing sound of frustration, and with the retractable arm we forgot he had for a while, gently picked Willis up by his loop-shaped head and set him down back outside of the shadowy library aisle.
Willis looked back, Cheryl's kidnappers long gone, and looked again at the other, left-hand path. "Ohhhhh" he said. "That's RIGHT! LEAD THE WAY!!"
By "that's right," Willis meant that he remembered Isaac had eyeballs, a sensory organ he himself did not need and did not entirely care to understand. In the span of what you and I could sort of translate as a few seconds, the thing you and I could sort of translate as a little boy had drawn the conclusion that Isaac's eyeballs could "see" a shortcut to wherever the unidentified entities had jumped out and gotten the poor, sweet, innocent, defenseless old lady they just met, who like Fern would have definitely (in Willis's estimation) been gotten ten hundred times already if Willis hadn't been there to watch out for her.
In reality, Isaac had no idea where the other path went, but he would have been reluctant to follow the particular things that had taken Cheryl even if they had taken someone he was in any hurry to ever see again, which they most definitely had not. Though the details were long faded, there had been something about Cheryl that sent a little shudder through the particular spinal column Isaac had inherited. As far as he was concerned, multiple things he wanted no part of had just been merciful enough to exit his vicinity, and with any luck, the rest of his pseudolife.
Regardless of the reason, Isaac was just glad that Willis agreed they should take the path that smelled a full 10% less hideously deadly than any other direction they could have gone in.
"Freeemp" said the fermented creature, dejectedly.
Willis skittered to a halt, fortunately having not gone terribly far on his tiny limbs. "Huh?? What's wrong??" he said as he puttered back to his companion.
Isaac made a little, wet huffing sound of frustration, and with the retractable arm we forgot he had for a while, gently picked Willis up by his loop-shaped head and set him down back outside of the shadowy library aisle.
Willis looked back, Cheryl's kidnappers long gone, and looked again at the other, left-hand path. "Ohhhhh" he said. "That's RIGHT! LEAD THE WAY!!"
By "that's right," Willis meant that he remembered Isaac had eyeballs, a sensory organ he himself did not need and did not entirely care to understand. In the span of what you and I could sort of translate as a few seconds, the thing you and I could sort of translate as a little boy had drawn the conclusion that Isaac's eyeballs could "see" a shortcut to wherever the unidentified entities had jumped out and gotten the poor, sweet, innocent, defenseless old lady they just met, who like Fern would have definitely (in Willis's estimation) been gotten ten hundred times already if Willis hadn't been there to watch out for her.
In reality, Isaac had no idea where the other path went, but he would have been reluctant to follow the particular things that had taken Cheryl even if they had taken someone he was in any hurry to ever see again, which they most definitely had not. Though the details were long faded, there had been something about Cheryl that sent a little shudder through the particular spinal column Isaac had inherited. As far as he was concerned, multiple things he wanted no part of had just been merciful enough to exit his vicinity, and with any luck, the rest of his pseudolife.
Regardless of the reason, Isaac was just glad that Willis agreed they should take the path that smelled a full 10% less hideously deadly than any other direction they could have gone in.
