Day Two-Seventy-Four: Deep Darkness

Crumblies! Hello, crumblies. You are so white light, and I, I am so diary. And diary, we, you, me, we is also kinda white light. And Drags light. But white!

So white Drags light white.

We, diary, you and I, dropped off on banks. Peoples of the wetness, they taken way by rats. Little floating ratties, pop in and out, whiz around wetness. Above. Weeeee! Looks so fun. Diary, you should learn the flying ways. Sometime. Please? Then we could Drags on our own!

Find!

FLY! weeeeeeeee

Ruins. In ruins. Big lizard many, friendly fellowchap, he sets us down on bank. We thank, we say, "Thank you for diary shuttling, for we is the awesome," and in we go. Run, run, into ruins things. Run run.

They go here. The hair. And the Libbers. Drags too? Seeing. I will be seeing. WE will be seeing, diary. Just watch and wait and watch.

And wait!

In. In in in. The ratties, their old homes is this. I am walking, walking, walking, and is so warm. The little ratty ghosts, they flies over my, and we are like "Phil? You is Phil? No, Phil tail is not."

And they says, "No. We are not Philip. We're simply here to let you in, as only the dead may lead the living within these walls."

That? Memory. So I writes, "Diamond-eyesies? Saw. In here, in hole. They's no dead."

A little floaty ratty is say, "The normal rules do not apply to them, little one. Fortunately, they can still join the dead… and we made sure they did. But there are more… many more… and we must be ready for them."

Diamond-eyes bad? Meh. Dononono. Men, helmets, bad. Theys diamond-eyesies in disguise. Me, diary, saw through so many long ago. Would tell Drags, but Drags, he ask? No.

Diary walks. Diary, I sees the bad things in here. What called… ratties… what… TRAPS. Traps, says I! Pointy thingers fly out, 'n big thingers tumble rumble, 'n pit thing is all 'yoooooou shaaaaaalllllll nooooooot paaaaaaaaaasssssssss', but I don't's fall.

Scary? Oh yes. If, like Drags, was I? Pee. So much pee. But not, because diary, we are the brave. BRAVEST! So super bravest, we come out here on selves.

Plus… don't know how pee is. What pee? Don't know. Yellow, smells. Like Drags? So good. But Drags, smell baaaaaad. Good smell, Drags smell, but smell baaaaad. So much con-tra-dic-tory, is the pee.

Almost there. Me, diary, led by ratties. They show secrets. Tunnel thingers. Past trapsies. Past bad stuff. Places only ratties can go. I don'ts always listen - sometimes, floor? Spike things? No big. Diary, you, by which I's mean I, are too awesome. Too awesome for dirty tunnels. Run straight through!

Ratties, floaty ghost ratties, they say we's a big word. Ir-re-spon-si-ble. They's dead, so who's they to be critique? Diary don’t know get skewered. Too good. Silly ratties.

Soon, I catch up to hair. And Libbers. And Drags. And we's be family again.

Drags.

Hi, Drags. Whatchoo doin' down here, Drags?

Drags, come home, write in me, Drags.

Drags.

You no dead.