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Description
Trott and Ross stayed up all night running around outside looking for Smiffy, but they couldn't find him. They tried to track his teleporter, but it was offline. He didn't have his headset with him either – they found it stuck to the wall, frozen in a clump of coagulated blood.

After that first night of panicked running in circles and screaming and one 47 minute crying session by the walrus, they realized they would need to try something different if they wanted to find him.

They knew that something bad would happen if they didn't find him soon. They both recognized the spiral that had been drawn on the wall, but neither of them could remember what it meant. Just that it was dangerous. That it marked something bad.

They searched all day until the sun set. That was when the cold drove them back inside. Every day it got colder and windier and cloudier. The clouds were almost completely black, even at noon.

Finally, after two days of scouring every village, cave, and dungeon, they realized they needed help.

“Who would we ask though?” asked Ross after Trott pitched the idea. He nearly had to shout over the howling wind, seeing as they were standing in a field between the nearby village and the Farlander village where they found Smiffy.

“I think you know who we have to ask,” said Trott, his voice grim.

Ross grimaced. “Not him...” he groaned. “The last time he was here I got shot. Three times!”

“I know, but he brought you and Smith back to life,” said Trott, trying not to remember shooting Ross and holding Smiffy while he bled out.

Ross groaned. “Okay, fine... how do we contact him?”

“You already did.”

Trott and Ross whipped around, shocked to see Ridge standing right behind them.

“Wha-... How did you know...” stammered Trott.

“I was attracted by all the chaos,” said Ridge, casually looking around.

Ross and Trott looked around as well, not seeing anything.

“What chaos?” asked Ross.

Two seconds later, there was an enormous explosion and the village caught fire. Villagers ran past them, burning and screaming.

Nobody made a move to help them, because at that second Smiffy's teleporter came back online.

“Ross!” exclaimed Trott. “He's at the Farlander village again.” Then they turned and sprinted towards the Farlands with Ridge trailing behind them, curious to see why he had been summoned here when there was a much more interesting and potentially dangerous flux anomaly back home.

Ross and Trott sprinted into the village, instantly knowing which house Smiffy was in... mainly because there were three Ender Golems trying to get inside.

“How do we get past them...?” muttered Ross as he and Trott ducked behind a wall and peeked out at the three giants reaching inside the building and scratching at the walls.

“Okay, the one on the left looks smaller than the other two, maybe if we both try and-”

Trott was cut short when a golden light hit all three of the Golems, paralyzing them. They turned around to see Ridge standing behind them.

“Well if I'm here I might as well help,” said Ridge with a shrug. “Call it an apology for what happened last time I was here.”

“Right...” muttered Ross nervously. He and Trott then ran into the building.

Smiffy was leaning against the far wall, unconscious. His shirt was a bit torn and bloody, most likely from getting past the Golems. They ran over to him and knelt down next to him. Ross shook his shoulder a bit.

“Smith...? Can you hear me...?” he asked quietly.

For a moment, he didn't move. Then he groaned and slowly blinked his bright blue eyes open.

“Guys...?” he coughed out, sounding exhausted. “W-what happened...? Where are we?”

“We were hoping you could tell us what happened,” said Trott as he took a bottle of water out of his bag. “Here, drink this.”

Smiffy snatched the bottle out of his hands and drank it as fast as he could, clearly dehydrated from not drinking anything for the past three days. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up, seeing Ridge for the first time.

“What's he doing here...?” he asked quietly.

“He's uh... he's here to help...” said Ross, glancing at Ridge.

Smiffy shifted a bit, clearly nervous about seeing Ridge again, but when he moved he grimaced.

“What's wrong?” asked Trott.

“My back...” he muttered, doubling over. “I think I cut it...”

“Hold still, let me look,” said Trott, scooting over so that he was behind Smiffy. Ross and Ridge looked as well, seeing that his shirt wasn't torn, but it was bloodstained on the back. Trott carefully lifted his shirt, and all three of them froze in shock and fear.

The very same spiral that had been drawn on the wall in blood was now burned into Smiffy's back.

“What is it?” asked Smiffy, who couldn't see any of their faces. “Is it bad?”

“Nothing too serious,” said Trott as he quickly lowered Smiffy's shirt again. “Just some cuts and bruises, nothing to be worried about.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because it really hurts... It feels like it's burning...”

“Well some of the cuts are quite deep, and they may be getting infected,” Trott quickly lied. “I'll give you medicine for it when we get back home.”

At that moment, Ridge turned and quickly left the building, the trio staring after him.

“Where's he going?” mumbled Smiffy.

“No idea,” said Ross, who had started to clean some of the cuts on Smiffy's hands.

“Smith, do you remember what happened?” asked Trott. “Do you remember how you got here?”

Smiffy shook his head. “I can barely remember anything...” he muttered. “I was in my lab... I think I tripped or fell down, I don't remember, but next thing I know I'm in here...”

“Well at least you found a warm building this time,” commented Ross. “The last one you were in didn't have any doors or windows.

“Is it still cold outside?” asked Smiffy, sounding slightly concerned.

“It's getting colder every day, mate,” said Trott. “We don't know what's causing it.”

“Hold on...” said Ross, sounding surprised. They both looked at him and saw that he had unbuttoned Smiffy's shirt in order to clean a cut on his shoulder, but he was staring at his chest. “Your flux is gone.”

At that moment, Smiffy realized he could breathe again. “How... wha-... how did that happen...?”

None of them could speak. Only three days ago, Smiffy had been dying, suffocating as the flux destroyed his lungs. Now he was fully healthy again and without a single trace of flux. The wound where he had been struck by the lightning was still there though, and it looked like it had been reopened several times.

Trott started to think about the small jar stored safely away in his inventory, the one containing the cure. How was the flux gone if Smiffy didn't have a cure...? Trott wasn't sure, but he decided he should keep the cure safe for the moment. Just in case.

After this long moment of confusion passed, they decided to head home. However, as soon as Smiffy moved to stand, he instantly fell back to the floor and would have hit pretty hard if Ross hadn't caught him. When they asked him what was wrong, he said he felt dizzy and weak. Trott realized it was also because he hadn't eaten in three days – no, more than three days; he couldn't swallow solid food when he was still sick – so they stayed in the building and gave Smiffy some food to help him regain his strength.

They stayed there for another hour until it started to get dark. Also, Ross saw one of the Ender Golems starting to move, so they decided to get as far away from the Farlanders village as possible before they woke up.

It had gotten much colder and darker outside, so Ross gave Smiffy his jacket, and Trott gave him the furry hat he was wearing. Trott was used to the cold and Ross had an extra layer of fur protecting him, but Smiffy was dressed in only a torn shirt and pants. And the last thing they wanted was for him to get sick again.

They let Smiffy walk on his own after he insisted he could, but Ross stayed close to him in case he fell again.

As soon as they were out of the building and past the Ender Golems, Smiffy started to look nervous.

“What's wrong?” asked Ross.

“I don't know,” he replied. “Something... something doesn't feel right.”

“What do you mean?” asked Trott, who was walking on the other side of Smiffy.

He shook his head. “I don't know... It just feels like something bad is about to happen...”

“Don't worry mate,” said Ross. “We'll keep an eye out for-”

Then Ross stepped on a trip wire that had been hidden by the tall grass. There was a sharp noise and the thunk of metal lodging itself into flesh immediately followed.

They all froze and looked down, shocked to see an arrow lodged into Ross' stomach. They stood and watched in horror as a small splotch of blood began to slowly spread across his white shirt.

A second later, it started to snow.

“Guys...” choked out Ross, his voice suddenly tiny and scared. He slowly sank to his knees.

That was when Smiffy and Trott sprung into action. They took Ross by the arms and hoisted him upright as carefully as they could. That didn't stop him from screaming though.

As soon as he was upright, they half dragged half carried him back to the Marble Tower as fast as possible. He remained conscious the whole time, trying to keep from screaming.

They made it back within minutes, just as the storm began to intensify. However, as soon as they crossed the frozen moat, Ridge appeared in front of them, looking frantic.

“Don't-” was all he had the chance to say before the upper right portion of the tower exploded and caught fire.

After watching the top portion of the tower burn for a few seconds, Ross lost consciousness from the shock of seeing his building partially destroyed and the pain from the arrow. It took another two minutes for Ridge's magic to put out all the fires and make it safe for them to go inside.

“Just stay on the bottom floor,” he warned as he picked up Ross and carried him inside. “This whole place was trapped. I managed to get rid of most of the explosives, I just didn't have time to get the ones up top.”

“I don't understand,” exclaimed Trott as he followed behind Ridge, having to run to keep up with his long strides. “Who could have done this?”

“I have a theory...” muttered Ridge darkly as they stepped inside and ran down to the lab.

They put Ross on the examination table and Ridge cut his shirt loose while Trott prepared his equipment. Smiffy stayed next to Ross, not sure what to do.

“Be careful,” warned Ridge as Trott approached with a scalpel. “The arrow looks barbed, so it might be difficult to get out.”

“Right,” said Trott, his voice muffled by the surgical mask over his mouth. Then he pressed the scalpel into the wound and cut it open a few more centimeters in order to give the arrow head room to come out. Then he carefully and slowly pulled the bloody arrow out.

The second the arrow was out, Ross started convulsing and coughing up blood.

“WHAT THE SHIT?!” shouted Trott as he pulled Ross upright and pressed a wad of bandages into the wound.

Ridge snatched the arrow and scanned it. “Uh, this thing was covered in silver powder. It's in his blood... Move.”

He shoved Trott out of the way and stood over Ross, his hands glowing gold. A few seconds later, Ross stopped convulsing, then he stopped coughing up blood after another minute.

“I'm drawing out all the poisoned blood,” said Ridge. “Try and sop it up.”

Trott nodded and stood on the other side of Ross, holding bandages and towels and soaking up all the blood that was drawn from the wound.

While this was happening, Smiffy was standing numb in the corner. He watched what was happening as if it weren't real. As if it were just another night terror. He really hoped it was.

The process of drawing out the poison ended up taking several hours. About halfway through, Smiffy fell asleep in the corner, and Trott threw a blanket over him.

By the time they finally got all of the silver powder out, it was almost midnight. Outside they could hear the wind howling as the snow had turned into a blizzard.

“Okay,” said Ridge, sounding out of breath and exhausted. “That's all I can do for now. He should probably start healing normally, but that's going to leave a scar. Maybe cause him some phantom pain...”

Trott shook his head a bit, looking at his pale and unconscious friend. “You nearly killed all of us last time you were here,” he said, looking up at Ridge. “What changed?”

“Last time I was here, I was testing you. I had everything under control,” said Ridge, wiping the blood off of his hands. “But this... I don't have any control over this. And I have a theory as to what's causing all of this, but I can't be sure yet... At least... not until I find it.”

“It? What do you mean?”

Ridge glanced around the room. “Something is hunting you three. And if it's what I think it is, then it's a good thing I came here...”

His eyes stopped scanning the room and rested on the corner, where a blanket lay discarded. Trott turned and looked, seeing that Smiffy had disappeared.

“Oh great, where did he go this time...?” muttered Trott.

“I think he's upstairs...” said Ridge, looking up at the ceiling with glowing gold eyes. “What's he doing up there...? That's where the explosion was...”

“I'll go get him,” said Trott. “You stay with Ross and make sure he keeps breathing, okay?”

Ridge nodded, and Trott turned and headed towards the elevator. He zapped up as far as he could, but the explosion had knocked out the last elevator connection, so he climbed up the ladder to the next floor.

It was freezing cold on this floor, seeing as half of the wall and ceiling had been blown away by the explosion. Snow was starting to pile into the large room, and he could see dark clouds and walls of ice flying past the hole in the wall as the blizzard raged outside. All of the lights had been knocked out by the blast, so the room was hauntingly dark.

Then his eyes adjusted enough for him to see a silhouette against the raging storm. Smiffy was standing right next to the hole in the wall, staring out into the gale.

“Smith!” exclaimed Trott, having to speak up over the wind. “What are you doing up here...?”

“Just... thinking...” he replied slowly, his voice quiet yet still carrying over the wind.

“About what?” asked Trott, moving closer.

“Do you think Ross is going to be okay?” he asked, still standing eerily still.

“Yeah...” said Trott, starting to feel nervous. Something wasn't right. “He's in good hands...”

“Good hands...” muttered Smiffy. “Good hands...”

Then, without warning, Smiffy turned around and lunged at Trott, knocking him to the ground and pinning his arms down with his knees. His eyes were glowing red, and he was holding a knife.

“Good hands, huh?” he asked, a deranged smile on his face. It was so terrifying that Trott couldn't scream.

“How good of a doctor would you be without your hands...?” asked the monster.

He raised his knife, prepared to slice off Trott's entire arm, when a blast of golden light hit him and sent him flying against the wall. He smashed his head against the wall and slid to the ground, completely unconscious.

Trott looked up to see Ridge standing at the far end of the room. He quickly ran over and picked up Trott, setting him back on his shaky feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Trott could only frantically nod, looking back and forth between Ridge and Smiffy.

Ridge moved over to the unconscious green man, and Trott followed, noticing the splotches of blood starting to spread across the front of his shirt. He assumed the wound on his chest had once again been opened.

“W-w-what just h-happened?” stammered Trott, shaking violently from the cold and fear.

Ridge simply looked down at Smiffy. “We need to do something about this...”

Description
Trott and Ross stayed up all night running around outside looking for Smiffy, but they couldn't find him. They tried to track his teleporter, but it was offline. He didn't have his headset with him either – they found it stuck to the wall, frozen in a clump of coagulated blood.

After that first night of panicked running in circles and screaming and one 47 minute crying session by the walrus, they realized they would need to try something different if they wanted to find him.

They knew that something bad would happen if they didn't find him soon. They both recognized the spiral that had been drawn on the wall, but neither of them could remember what it meant. Just that it was dangerous. That it marked something bad.

They searched all day until the sun set. That was when the cold drove them back inside. Every day it got colder and windier and cloudier. The clouds were almost completely black, even at noon.

Finally, after two days of scouring every village, cave, and dungeon, they realized they needed help.

“Who would we ask though?” asked Ross after Trott pitched the idea. He nearly had to shout over the howling wind, seeing as they were standing in a field between the nearby village and the Farlander village where they found Smiffy.

“I think you know who we have to ask,” said Trott, his voice grim.

Ross grimaced. “Not him...” he groaned. “The last time he was here I got shot. Three times!”

“I know, but he brought you and Smith back to life,” said Trott, trying not to remember shooting Ross and holding Smiffy while he bled out.

Ross groaned. “Okay, fine... how do we contact him?”

“You already did.”

Trott and Ross whipped around, shocked to see Ridge standing right behind them.

“Wha-... How did you know...” stammered Trott.

“I was attracted by all the chaos,” said Ridge, casually looking around.

Ross and Trott looked around as well, not seeing anything.

“What chaos?” asked Ross.

Two seconds later, there was an enormous explosion and the village caught fire. Villagers ran past them, burning and screaming.

Nobody made a move to help them, because at that second Smiffy's teleporter came back online.

“Ross!” exclaimed Trott. “He's at the Farlander village again.” Then they turned and sprinted towards the Farlands with Ridge trailing behind them, curious to see why he had been summoned here when there was a much more interesting and potentially dangerous flux anomaly back home.

Ross and Trott sprinted into the village, instantly knowing which house Smiffy was in... mainly because there were three Ender Golems trying to get inside.

“How do we get past them...?” muttered Ross as he and Trott ducked behind a wall and peeked out at the three giants reaching inside the building and scratching at the walls.

“Okay, the one on the left looks smaller than the other two, maybe if we both try and-”

Trott was cut short when a golden light hit all three of the Golems, paralyzing them. They turned around to see Ridge standing behind them.

“Well if I'm here I might as well help,” said Ridge with a shrug. “Call it an apology for what happened last time I was here.”

“Right...” muttered Ross nervously. He and Trott then ran into the building.

Smiffy was leaning against the far wall, unconscious. His shirt was a bit torn and bloody, most likely from getting past the Golems. They ran over to him and knelt down next to him. Ross shook his shoulder a bit.

“Smith...? Can you hear me...?” he asked quietly.

For a moment, he didn't move. Then he groaned and slowly blinked his bright blue eyes open.

“Guys...?” he coughed out, sounding exhausted. “W-what happened...? Where are we?”

“We were hoping you could tell us what happened,” said Trott as he took a bottle of water out of his bag. “Here, drink this.”

Smiffy snatched the bottle out of his hands and drank it as fast as he could, clearly dehydrated from not drinking anything for the past three days. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up, seeing Ridge for the first time.

“What's he doing here...?” he asked quietly.

“He's uh... he's here to help...” said Ross, glancing at Ridge.

Smiffy shifted a bit, clearly nervous about seeing Ridge again, but when he moved he grimaced.

“What's wrong?” asked Trott.

“My back...” he muttered, doubling over. “I think I cut it...”

“Hold still, let me look,” said Trott, scooting over so that he was behind Smiffy. Ross and Ridge looked as well, seeing that his shirt wasn't torn, but it was bloodstained on the back. Trott carefully lifted his shirt, and all three of them froze in shock and fear.

The very same spiral that had been drawn on the wall in blood was now burned into Smiffy's back.

“What is it?” asked Smiffy, who couldn't see any of their faces. “Is it bad?”

“Nothing too serious,” said Trott as he quickly lowered Smiffy's shirt again. “Just some cuts and bruises, nothing to be worried about.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because it really hurts... It feels like it's burning...”

“Well some of the cuts are quite deep, and they may be getting infected,” Trott quickly lied. “I'll give you medicine for it when we get back home.”

At that moment, Ridge turned and quickly left the building, the trio staring after him.

“Where's he going?” mumbled Smiffy.

“No idea,” said Ross, who had started to clean some of the cuts on Smiffy's hands.

“Smith, do you remember what happened?” asked Trott. “Do you remember how you got here?”

Smiffy shook his head. “I can barely remember anything...” he muttered. “I was in my lab... I think I tripped or fell down, I don't remember, but next thing I know I'm in here...”

“Well at least you found a warm building this time,” commented Ross. “The last one you were in didn't have any doors or windows.

“Is it still cold outside?” asked Smiffy, sounding slightly concerned.

“It's getting colder every day, mate,” said Trott. “We don't know what's causing it.”

“Hold on...” said Ross, sounding surprised. They both looked at him and saw that he had unbuttoned Smiffy's shirt in order to clean a cut on his shoulder, but he was staring at his chest. “Your flux is gone.”

At that moment, Smiffy realized he could breathe again. “How... wha-... how did that happen...?”

None of them could speak. Only three days ago, Smiffy had been dying, suffocating as the flux destroyed his lungs. Now he was fully healthy again and without a single trace of flux. The wound where he had been struck by the lightning was still there though, and it looked like it had been reopened several times.

Trott started to think about the small jar stored safely away in his inventory, the one containing the cure. How was the flux gone if Smiffy didn't have a cure...? Trott wasn't sure, but he decided he should keep the cure safe for the moment. Just in case.

After this long moment of confusion passed, they decided to head home. However, as soon as Smiffy moved to stand, he instantly fell back to the floor and would have hit pretty hard if Ross hadn't caught him. When they asked him what was wrong, he said he felt dizzy and weak. Trott realized it was also because he hadn't eaten in three days – no, more than three days; he couldn't swallow solid food when he was still sick – so they stayed in the building and gave Smiffy some food to help him regain his strength.

They stayed there for another hour until it started to get dark. Also, Ross saw one of the Ender Golems starting to move, so they decided to get as far away from the Farlanders village as possible before they woke up.

It had gotten much colder and darker outside, so Ross gave Smiffy his jacket, and Trott gave him the furry hat he was wearing. Trott was used to the cold and Ross had an extra layer of fur protecting him, but Smiffy was dressed in only a torn shirt and pants. And the last thing they wanted was for him to get sick again.

They let Smiffy walk on his own after he insisted he could, but Ross stayed close to him in case he fell again.

As soon as they were out of the building and past the Ender Golems, Smiffy started to look nervous.

“What's wrong?” asked Ross.

“I don't know,” he replied. “Something... something doesn't feel right.”

“What do you mean?” asked Trott, who was walking on the other side of Smiffy.

He shook his head. “I don't know... It just feels like something bad is about to happen...”

“Don't worry mate,” said Ross. “We'll keep an eye out for-”

Then Ross stepped on a trip wire that had been hidden by the tall grass. There was a sharp noise and the thunk of metal lodging itself into flesh immediately followed.

They all froze and looked down, shocked to see an arrow lodged into Ross' stomach. They stood and watched in horror as a small splotch of blood began to slowly spread across his white shirt.

A second later, it started to snow.

“Guys...” choked out Ross, his voice suddenly tiny and scared. He slowly sank to his knees.

That was when Smiffy and Trott sprung into action. They took Ross by the arms and hoisted him upright as carefully as they could. That didn't stop him from screaming though.

As soon as he was upright, they half dragged half carried him back to the Marble Tower as fast as possible. He remained conscious the whole time, trying to keep from screaming.

They made it back within minutes, just as the storm began to intensify. However, as soon as they crossed the frozen moat, Ridge appeared in front of them, looking frantic.

“Don't-” was all he had the chance to say before the upper right portion of the tower exploded and caught fire.

After watching the top portion of the tower burn for a few seconds, Ross lost consciousness from the shock of seeing his building partially destroyed and the pain from the arrow. It took another two minutes for Ridge's magic to put out all the fires and make it safe for them to go inside.

“Just stay on the bottom floor,” he warned as he picked up Ross and carried him inside. “This whole place was trapped. I managed to get rid of most of the explosives, I just didn't have time to get the ones up top.”

“I don't understand,” exclaimed Trott as he followed behind Ridge, having to run to keep up with his long strides. “Who could have done this?”

“I have a theory...” muttered Ridge darkly as they stepped inside and ran down to the lab.

They put Ross on the examination table and Ridge cut his shirt loose while Trott prepared his equipment. Smiffy stayed next to Ross, not sure what to do.

“Be careful,” warned Ridge as Trott approached with a scalpel. “The arrow looks barbed, so it might be difficult to get out.”

“Right,” said Trott, his voice muffled by the surgical mask over his mouth. Then he pressed the scalpel into the wound and cut it open a few more centimeters in order to give the arrow head room to come out. Then he carefully and slowly pulled the bloody arrow out.

The second the arrow was out, Ross started convulsing and coughing up blood.

“WHAT THE SHIT?!” shouted Trott as he pulled Ross upright and pressed a wad of bandages into the wound.

Ridge snatched the arrow and scanned it. “Uh, this thing was covered in silver powder. It's in his blood... Move.”

He shoved Trott out of the way and stood over Ross, his hands glowing gold. A few seconds later, Ross stopped convulsing, then he stopped coughing up blood after another minute.

“I'm drawing out all the poisoned blood,” said Ridge. “Try and sop it up.”

Trott nodded and stood on the other side of Ross, holding bandages and towels and soaking up all the blood that was drawn from the wound.

While this was happening, Smiffy was standing numb in the corner. He watched what was happening as if it weren't real. As if it were just another night terror. He really hoped it was.

The process of drawing out the poison ended up taking several hours. About halfway through, Smiffy fell asleep in the corner, and Trott threw a blanket over him.

By the time they finally got all of the silver powder out, it was almost midnight. Outside they could hear the wind howling as the snow had turned into a blizzard.

“Okay,” said Ridge, sounding out of breath and exhausted. “That's all I can do for now. He should probably start healing normally, but that's going to leave a scar. Maybe cause him some phantom pain...”

Trott shook his head a bit, looking at his pale and unconscious friend. “You nearly killed all of us last time you were here,” he said, looking up at Ridge. “What changed?”

“Last time I was here, I was testing you. I had everything under control,” said Ridge, wiping the blood off of his hands. “But this... I don't have any control over this. And I have a theory as to what's causing all of this, but I can't be sure yet... At least... not until I find it.”

“It? What do you mean?”

Ridge glanced around the room. “Something is hunting you three. And if it's what I think it is, then it's a good thing I came here...”

His eyes stopped scanning the room and rested on the corner, where a blanket lay discarded. Trott turned and looked, seeing that Smiffy had disappeared.

“Oh great, where did he go this time...?” muttered Trott.

“I think he's upstairs...” said Ridge, looking up at the ceiling with glowing gold eyes. “What's he doing up there...? That's where the explosion was...”

“I'll go get him,” said Trott. “You stay with Ross and make sure he keeps breathing, okay?”

Ridge nodded, and Trott turned and headed towards the elevator. He zapped up as far as he could, but the explosion had knocked out the last elevator connection, so he climbed up the ladder to the next floor.

It was freezing cold on this floor, seeing as half of the wall and ceiling had been blown away by the explosion. Snow was starting to pile into the large room, and he could see dark clouds and walls of ice flying past the hole in the wall as the blizzard raged outside. All of the lights had been knocked out by the blast, so the room was hauntingly dark.

Then his eyes adjusted enough for him to see a silhouette against the raging storm. Smiffy was standing right next to the hole in the wall, staring out into the gale.

“Smith!” exclaimed Trott, having to speak up over the wind. “What are you doing up here...?”

“Just... thinking...” he replied slowly, his voice quiet yet still carrying over the wind.

“About what?” asked Trott, moving closer.

“Do you think Ross is going to be okay?” he asked, still standing eerily still.

“Yeah...” said Trott, starting to feel nervous. Something wasn't right. “He's in good hands...”

“Good hands...” muttered Smiffy. “Good hands...”

Then, without warning, Smiffy turned around and lunged at Trott, knocking him to the ground and pinning his arms down with his knees. His eyes were glowing red, and he was holding a knife.

“Good hands, huh?” he asked, a deranged smile on his face. It was so terrifying that Trott couldn't scream.

“How good of a doctor would you be without your hands...?” asked the monster.

He raised his knife, prepared to slice off Trott's entire arm, when a blast of golden light hit him and sent him flying against the wall. He smashed his head against the wall and slid to the ground, completely unconscious.

Trott looked up to see Ridge standing at the far end of the room. He quickly ran over and picked up Trott, setting him back on his shaky feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Trott could only frantically nod, looking back and forth between Ridge and Smiffy.

Ridge moved over to the unconscious green man, and Trott followed, noticing the splotches of blood starting to spread across the front of his shirt. He assumed the wound on his chest had once again been opened.

“W-w-what just h-happened?” stammered Trott, shaking violently from the cold and fear.

Ridge simply looked down at Smiffy. “We need to do something about this...”