Nillium Neems by Francisco J Ruiz

was
gone. Everything just seemed better. And the clock! That evil clock
was dead and gone, replaced by a cute painting of a girl in a field
of yellow flowers. I looked at that painting for a while, actually
smiling at how happy that girl made me, until I saw that it was me!
A different me, a... happier me. A me that was full of joy and
picking flowers.
    I glanced between the flower on the floor
and the painting on the wall. There was something there. I wasn’t
sure what, but it was there all the same. I walked over to the bed,
a deep blue like the shelf and full of warmth.
    Somehow I found myself upon it, laying my
head back upon the soft pillows. Tired from my endeavors, not
caring now if anyone found me, I fell asleep in exhaustion. I feel
like my life has begun anew.
     
    Nil, Out.

 
    Day 64
     
    I slept soundly and undisturbed. Since I’d
been moved to the room with the Mushrooms, this one had remained
unoccupied. It occurred to me with a smile that I could probably
just camp out here indefinitely and no one would ever know. I’d
need food, but maybe Mousy could help scrounge that up for me.
    For a while I just lay with my eyes closed,
enjoying the peace and safety, thinking over what had happened the
day before. I’d won. I’d faced my worst fear, the Hooded Man, and
beat him. Nothing could stop me now. I was getting out. I was going
to win my freedom.
    Deciding there was no point in waiting
around any longer, I opened my eyes and found myself bathed in a
warming light, as if the sun were peeking through an open window.
There was no window. Frowning, I pushed myself up with my hands and
felt a sharp pain shoot through the right one.
    Panicking as all the memories of how badly
damaged it was came flooding back to me, I raised it up to my eyes,
expecting to see little more than a bloody stump. All of my fingers
were intact and all that marred my pale flesh were tiny wounds,
little more than paper cuts. I flexed my fingers once or twice just
to make sure and found them in perfect working order. My hand had
mostly healed overnight...
    An image of Siegfried popped into my mind,
and I wondered just what his role in all of this was. My eyes
wandered to Mousy, snoring restlessly (or rustlessly, as he made
that signature sound instead of snorts) as he lay on the foot of
the bed, like a miniscule guardian angel keeping watch.
    I poked him gently and at once his blue eyes
snapped open, swiveling back and forth. For just a moment, as I’d
seen once before, there was something more in his eyes than his
small form hinted at. Something all too human.
    "Do you trust me, Mousy?" I asked him.
    He looked up at me, the wariness of his eyes
fading to be replaced by a softness that answered my question. Then
he rustled once, a pointed yes.
    "I trust you too, Mousy. You’re the best
friend I’ve got. So tell me what’s going on. Who are you, who is
Siegfried?"
    He rustled again, a longer, protracted
rustle, with more than a note of frustration in it. But I
understood what he meant. Mousy wanted to help me understand, to
answer all the questions he could. But he could only speak in
rustle. He was able to help me, but unable to speak to me.
    I nodded in understanding and reached a hand
down to stroke his slightly jelly like head.
    "It’s alright, Mousy. Your company is
enough. Once I track down that English-speaking slug, however, I
will have some hard questions for him."
    Mousy climbed onto my hand, up my arm, and
then perched on my shoulder. It was time to get going. I got off
the bed, grabbed my Snoopy Cap, and started to leave, turning back
with regret to look at this haven of safety.
    I then realized I had completely forgotten
about my Pocket Watch and Book, both still sitting on my bright new
shelf. If I was leaving, I wasn’t leaving without both of them.
Even if the book was creepy.
    Moving over to pick them up, I saw that the
Book had changed right along with the rest of the room. I flipped
through its pages, finding most of