..............

*Tick Tock*

*Slurp*

*Tick Tock*

*Slurp*

..............

Almost perfect silence... such a peacefully setting. The only noises there where, where that of the fireplace crackling, the tick-tock of a clock, and the sipping noise of a cup meeting a pair lips, to only loss its sweet contents in the end.

These where the noises that had normally filled the cabin in which Wilson P. Higgsbury called his home.

Silence, but not perfect silence. Enough to keep one calm but not drive them mad at the same time. Then again he was insane on some level, so who's to say he could really judge what would make someone go mad.

This was the symphony that played to many of his days and nights, and he had come to grow to it a little, although not by his choice for say.

Why not by choice you ask? Well you see, Wilson didn't always dream of living alone in the woods much to many people's disbelief.

He had hopes and dreams at one time in his life, but like many of his talents and arts, fortune is but a heartless and cruel mistress (In more ways then one for him). He however did not let this stop him and simply choose to out beat life at its own game by taking pride in his new home and way of live (before losing them in end of it all).

Needless to say it started out as an act but over time it did start to stick to him.

So as hard as it may seem to be true, these noises; this chorus, as one could say, stopped at one point in time not to long ago.

Though truth be told, he would much rather just forget about the past and move on with his life, and for his sake he really needed to do just that.

................

"Aha.." Came a soft content sigh that slightly echoed in the old home.

"Nothing quite like the feeling of being back home with a fresh cup of tea at my side." Wilson stated to himself as he sat next to the fireplace watching the flames dance up and down as if to some form of invisible dance, while taking a sip or two of his tea every few seconds.

After being away for so long just sitting by the fire made him feel, rather happy...as if he almost never left home in the first place.

And truth be told, is there really any better place to be in this world?

True he couldn't really remember how exactly he got back home in the first place, but that didn't really matter to him right now. I mean after being trapped on that hellhole of an island for so long, he really didn't care as to just how he got back. The only real thing he cared about was that he was back now.

*Tick Tock*

*Slurp*

*Tick Tock*

*Slurp*

*Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding*

9 strikes of the clock...9o'clock

"Whelp, Its about time to feed the mice again." Wilson thought as he slowly got up out of his stylish and rather comfortable leather chair. You know looking back at it he was rather pleased at the fact he brought the chair in the first place, it had served his buttocks very well.

Anyways, as he slowly made his way up the stairs to the attic, he started to get a really good look around the old place for once.

It was kind of funny in an odd way, but until now he never really appreciated the simple fact of just how nice his home was before.
Normally he was always too busy with something to really notice it, but now when he really got a good look at the place, he realized just how nice of a place it was.

In a way it gave him a sort of pride to look at the old place again after being away for such a long time.

Though he was so busy being caught up in admiring the old place that he almost ran head first into the attic's door at the top of the stairs.

Speaking of which...

The attic is what many would call the "best part" of the house for Wilson personally. I mean it was home to a great deal of memories for him (both good and bad).

So many experiments (most of which failed) had been born in the small room beyond this door. It gave him a bit of a nostalgic trip thinking back on it.

He would of loved to think of all the great times (and the bad) but at the moment there was something of greater interest behind the door.

...Not like an onlooker could really tell since the room was about as light as a cave...if that cave was in the middle of space.

"I always did my best work in the dark... " Wilson let out a small chuckle as he opened the door.

"Who knew the mice also liked it being dark too." He thought as he went to turn on the light switch.

As the lights turned on, it was as if a completely new atmosphere took over the room.
He had been told once that his down stairs seemed like something straight out of a old English manner.

If that where the truth then his attic probably looked like something out of a mad scientist's lab.

Simply put, it looked like a lab of sorts with all the test tubes, electronics, and various other things lying around the room that you would find in one.

In fact, if you where to guess from the clues and say it was a lab you be right since it was indeed Wilson's personal lab!

In fact, it was Wilson's only lab and the pride of his house to him.

All the things he had done here for the name of science, all the grand experiments it just...just...
it just put a small, gleefully smile on his face to think about it.

To tell the truth when ever he stepped into the old place he felt a bit pride at what he had done to it.

Just looking around the room was like taking a walk down memory lane.

Everything looked just like how he left it. Test tubes and beakers in there places, the mice still in there cages, heck, even his old chair and radio where in the same spots as when he left.

However as he continued looking around the room, something caught his attention...or rather a lack of something caught his attention.

Everything was just as he left, except one thing...that dame machine.

Maxwell's machine, the thing that put him on the island in the first place, the thing that had put him in hell, he had left it right here in his attic...but now it was somehow gone!
But Why!?

Maxwell had no use for it (seeing as it was only a prototype and he had severally finished version of it) and he was 100% sure that no one had entered his house, since every door, window, and possible entrance was still locked tight, so how was it gone!?

"W-Where is it!? Wilson shouted, running around searching, starting to grow frantic at the thought of someone getting their hands on it.

If someone ended up getting their hands on that thing...God I don't even what to think about what could happen.

Turning around, Wilson grabbed the doorknob and pulled hoping to search the house for the machine, but something was off. No matter how hard he tried to pull the door, it wouldn't move an inch.

"What the hell..."

He could feel a small chill rising in the air.

Something was very wrong...and he had a feeling as to just what was behind it. Even if he didn't want to believe it...

"Oh what's the matter, pal?" A voice suddenly spoke up from behind him.

There was a pause for a few seconds before...

Looking for something? The voice asked coldly, now directly behind him.

Jumping back and turning around, Wilson frantically searched for the source of the voice but he couldn't see anyone else in the room.

"Did you see something?"

Jumping back and turning around (for a second time) he came face to face with...nothing...again.

"Where are you? Just stop playing around and show yourself." Wilson thought to himself backing towards the door in hopes of a possible escape route.

"Hasn't anyone told you that its 'third times the charm' and not the second, pal?"

Ha, got you this...time...

Turning around once again towards the one large window in the attic, being lit by the moonlight and over looking the woods outside, Wilson saw it. Upon just glancing at it his blood froze faster then a river during the winter. He knew this was likely the cause of it but he didn't want to be right...

"Look time no see eh, Wilson?"

In front of window was a silhouette of a rather tall figure. However the silhouette alone is not what made him so scared, for you see this figure, he knew it...and he feared it.

Standing around less then 10 steps in front of was the silhouette of the man, no wait, the DEMON who put him in that hellhole of a place.
Standing in front of him was one of the only men to make Wilson's blood boil, and the only one he feared. In front of him stood the silhouette of Maxwell with that same smirk on his face that never seemed to go away.

Seeing him made Wilson's leg feel like jelly and his breath uneven, but he was trying his best not to show it.

"Wh-Why are you here?" Wilson asked through panted breathes. By the way, he wasn't doing a good job at hiding it.

"I fell for your trap once already, Maxwell, so if you think I'm going to fall for another one, you can forget it and drop dead right here and right now." He stated while easing up his stance a little bit.

"Hahaha, Oh Silly boy you already have feel for my trap, and you don't even know it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wilson asked with disapproving look.

"That really doesn't matter right now, now does it? But I tell you what does matter." He said while taking a step towards Wilson.

You see the reason I'm here pal is because you having something of mine and lets just say, I want it back.

The figure slowly started to move forward again.

"And I want it back now, so if you don't mind, where is it pal?"

In the blink of an eye the silhouette was gone only to reappear a second later right in front of Wilson looking at him with a set of piercing red eyes and that same grin from before.

"Wh-What do you mean? If you couldn't tell, I can't really read minds since its not scientifically possi-"

"MY MACHINE!" He yelled with rage, while cutting off Wilson at the same time.

"I don't have your machine." Wilson responded with a bit of a sour tone.
"...and even if I did f*** you anyways!"

Why Maxwell wanted a prototype for a machine he had was beyond him but he didn't really care at the moment.

"I see" Maxwell said, taking a step back from Wilson before disappearing into thin air, only leaving behind a small mist in his place.

"Shame, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this but..."

All of a sudden the ground around Wilson's feet began to turn black as if the area lead into a void of sorts. Screams and low moans could be heard from the pit.

In that case I'll just have to get the information I seek by force!

Before Wilson could react, two dark shadowy hands shot up out of the void and grab him by the waist and began pulling him down into the void.

Wilson struggled against the grip the best he could but for every bit he moved, he fell that much faster, like the stuff was made of quicksand or something.

Each little bit he fell into it, he could feel more hands grabbing him and dragging him down, down to his death.

This was wrong, it wasn't like the first time when he was taken to the island at all.

The hands just simply grabbed him then and took him into the void but this time they where hurting him, as if they where trying to kill him. But why, Maxwell liked his play things he didn't like to break them, so there was no reason for him to kill Wilson.

At this point he was now fully in the void. He couldn't see a thing but now the hands where at his throat slowly chocking him to death.

Screams all around him, pain...at this rate he was going to die.

Wake up Wilson! Wake up or you'll die! HAHAHAHA

The laughter, the screams, the pain.

Just make it all stop...please...make..it...stop..

......................

Wake up and smell the ashes...

Author's Note

...Well this chapter took a bit longer then what I hoped it would but its finally done.

All I have to say is while this chapter really doesn't have any story advancement for say but more back storyish in it the next chapter is going to have some plot advancement to it...so that's a thing (it may even have some ponies in it to).

So that's really about it.