The Gloomy Gloomy Woods [Part 1]: Cigarette Goes Missing

The 'Gloomy Gloomy Woods' (read the noticeboard inside the entryway) are dimly lit, chilly, and a little breezy owing to the subtly whirring air conditioning that gently rustles the foliage-covered walls and ceilings in this area. We have been here for a good number of hours, and there has been no change in the level of lighting so far – it remains suitably dark. As far as I can tell, the primary light sources around these parts are spherical hanging ceiling lights and spotlights, that cast a blue hue across the leafy interior. The cool ambiance is deeply reminiscent of cold nighttime walks along woodland paths during my youth. Me jumping at shadows, and exponentially increasing my pace at the thought of the fallen trees, branches, and thickets hiding some kind of hypothetical, unseen beast.

Cigarette led the way during our preliminary jaunt into this labyrinthian place. He held our one and only torch in his hand, the bobbing beam dissipating the darkness ahead. His long green nose was erect and twitching as he sniffed for the scent of anything that may be lying in wait for us around any one one of the countless corners. His large ears were pointed forwards like radar dishes, listening for any hint of danger ahead. Although, the whir of the air con, and intermittent loops of recorded bird song and sounds of wind that played over hidden, crackling speakers probably made it hard to discern much else aside from the artificial ambient noise. My Son, on the other hand, was making a nuisance of himself as he darted around from bush to tree to rock, jumping over and on and in things, making strange little noises of excitement, and hiding in dark alcoves only to jump out in an attempt to frighten Cigarette and I. One of these times, he caught Ciggy off-guard; the fright caused Cigarette to raise his hackles – green spikes erupted outwards from his body and head as they often do when he is sufficiently surprised or distressed. I too was getting rather fed up with the boy’s antics, so I grabbed him by his round pink face, and stuck him to Ciggy’s spiky back (much to Cigarette’s annoyance), planning to remove him once he decided to behave himself. However, it did not seem to have any notable effect on his behaviour. The boy wriggled like an upturned beetle, until Cigarette lost his balance and toppled over – spilling the boy onto the floor. The boy immediately flipped over onto all fours and scuttled away past Ciggy and into a nearby bush. From within the shadows cast by twigs and leaves he stared at us unblinkingly as we walked past him, our heads turning to meet his gaze, necks craning until we remembered we should focus on the path ahead.

After a few hours of walking, we found this circular room that almost looks like a forest clearing. There are a couple of corridors branching off it, including the one we entered from, and one L-shaped corridor leading off in some other direction. Cigarette showed some interest in venturing further past this point - the boy and I, on the other hand, agreed that we would prefer to take a break for a small while. There is a smaller conjoined room that houses a handful of trees, under which are a decent number of thick dead branches that are perfect for use as firewood. I checked for vents in the ceilings of the main room, as luck would have it there is a decently-sized rectangular vent embedded in near-enough the centre of the ceiling, making this room a viable spot for a small fire. The air conditioning in the woods is a little more abrasive than in the other parts of the complex that I have explored so far, so a fire would keep us warm and possibly even ward off any nearby unwanted guests.

We are yet to be set upon by anything, but that does not mean we are alone. Cigarette did alert us to some nearby disturbances a couple of times during our trek, only for the beam of our torch to barely catch the silhouetted, blurry shape of some small dark thing swiftly disappearing around a corner, at a height close to that of the ceiling. Regardless, Cigarette left soon after we arrived in the circular room, to scout ahead and look for any water sources or food in nearby corridors, while I collected firewood with my Son. The boy precariously teetered from side-to-side as he carried a singular branch over to the middle of the room, seemingly exerting great effort. He then plopped it down, and began staring at me expectantly - possibly anticipating some kind of reward...

An hour or so after Cigarette had left, the boy and I had already got a small fire going, and had started toasting and eating some of the marshmallows we had scavenged the other day. I wish I could say it was almost relaxing, but the constant ambient noise lends a certain oppressive quality to the woods, and without Cigarette’s keen hearing it feels as if we are blind to anything outside of our immediate cone of vision. Even worse, at one point the monotonous drone of the air conditioning and tickling rustle of the dancing foliage was muddied by some awful, distant noises. Terrible warbling moans as deep as a ship's fog horn, and grating shrieks that conjured imagery of a malfunctioning robotic bird singing its final, dying tune echoed through the corridors. To me, this was most troubling. The boy, however, seemed largely unconcerned; as he stared at and drooled over the blackened, flaming marshmallow at the end of his stick. I am worried that Cigarette may have overextended in his exploration and got lost among the labyrinth of corridors. I will head out in a bit, and try to find him - after I have eaten this last marshmallow...

EDIT: Unbeknownst to me, the boy had snuck the last marshmallow out of the bag and eaten it while I was distracted by the disturbing noises. I took his hat off his head and threw it up into a nearby tree, and out of his reach - this displeased him greatly.