You press on, eyes wide with terror, pupils racing back and forth trying to take in your surroundings. A rustling and what sounds like wings can be heard from somewhere beyond the thick and smoky fog. It seems to grow thicker, as if it had a will of its own, reaching out to slow your journey. Once again you glance sideways to curse your brother.

” It was you! If you had any sense you would have just done your task and returned! Now look at you! Dead, cold and lifeless, no longer full of life, dying for a meaningless task such as this!”

You stop, you notice that you have been walking in circles during your rant. An endless sequence of figure 8’s that has you even more without a sense of direction. You grab Willem’s hand again and begun to trudge, in any direction, you will move forward, you will find shelter.

” Don’t worry Willem, you slowly whisper, they won’t find us. We’ll find home, you smile, it’s only a matter of time.”

You stop, the rustling has returned, and with it, steps. Footsteps in the fog.