The Crafthouse- Chapter 18

Instructions

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He felt different. And he knew why. He had done this to himself. He wanted to see what it was like. He went too far. Poor Shelly. She must have thought that he abandoned her. No, no, it wasn't that. He thought if he could turn twisted and cure himself, he'd have a cure to share with the others. Now, he could barely pick up his pencil and notebook that he was going to record his progress in. That was because his hands were no longer hands. They were huge claws that he didn't know how to use. He attempted to pick up his pencil again, and ended up snapping it in half. Well, crap. That was his only pencil. He sighed, and it came out deeper than his voice had ever gone down to before. Then, he was shocked with a realization. All of the other twisteds went insane and couldn't control themselves... and sure, he felt different, but he was still... himself. He didn't know why, or how. He dragged himself to the elevator. It was just an elevator, nothing special. He dragged himself away. He saw the train go by through the fencing. How was it still functioning? Maybe someone took over for him? That must be it. Scraps could operate the train, at least at an average level. He stared at the train as it passed. Then, it was gone again. He noticed his notebook lying on the ground. He picked it up as carefully as he could, flipping through the pages and pages of documentations he made. He would hate for it all to go to waste. Carrying his notebook, he headed back to the elevator, placing it on a nearby crate. Maybe if some other crafts came down here, they could use some information from it. He solemnly looked at it one last time, before moving away to another area of the floor. Something teal caught his eye. Was it hallucinations or his eyes playing tricks on him? No, he saw it again. "Hello?" He asked, his voice coming out deep and raspy. He hated the sound of it. The figure stopped in its tracks, as if in shock. Then, it began to take a shape. "Dyle? What the... how are you not... insane?" It was none other than Connie. She was holding a strange, green glowing vial, and was staring up at him in shock. "I... Don't really know. How are you here? I never heard the elevator open..." He commented. "I've been going invisible more often, and I've learned that I can now phase through the walls and the floor. I can get anywhere I want easily." Connie said this as if she were bragging. It was almost like how she used to act before the incident. "Are you well? Your brother's death took a toll on all of our hearts. I hope you can find peace in the fact that he died heroically." Dyle mentioned. Connie froze up, and then sighed. She looked... Defeated. "I know he died heroically. He saved Yatta. But that doesn't change the fact that he's gone now, and I never even said goodbye to him." She muttered. There was an awkward silence. Then, Dyle spoke up. "Hey. I left my notebook near the elevator. Could you do me a favor and bring it back to Gardenview Center? The others need this information." "...I'm not going to bring it there. I can't trust Scraps or anyone else running this whole operation. I can bring it to the Easter Floor though. They would know what to do with it." Connie paused. "Bye, Dyle. I may come back later, but for now, I need to get a few things done. Including your little errand for me." With that, Connie disappeared as quickly as she appeared. She was gone. Dyle sighed. He went to check the elevator again, and his notebook was already gone. Connie's promises were not empty. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He went back to the fence, and waited for the train to come back again.