The wind pulsed across the open grassy plane causing visible ripples to spread out from singular points and peak the grass into rising mounds like the undulating waves of on ocean, slow rolling hills cut away in three directions, each direction looking exactly the same as the first with the same pattern of hills and the same slow movement of the wind through grass.

Beyond that a light blue horizon vanished into the distance colored that way by light refracting through a cloudy atmosphere and downward. A stream of sunlight broke through the clouds and rolled over the hills for a moment before vanishing again, repeating this periodically, almost like a searchlight.

Based on the color of the light, the sun was beginning to set. The clouds were beginning to retreat, and the air around them was beginning to cool dramatically.

Eli took his last few steps forward and slowly began to sink towards the ground, his aching legs and throbbing body desperate to give over to exhaustion.

Peter caught his arm before he could go down completely holding his body halfway off the ground.

Eli's head was throbbing, sweat dripped down his face and neck, and a dull ache had grown up in back and arms. Peter pressed a hand to his face, "You're getting worse." He glanced at the distant, surreal landscape, and dragged Eli back on his feet,

Eli looked around at the three mirrored hill patterns, and then behind them towards the uncanny. "This marks the furthest corner of the Uncanny." His voice felt faint, even to him.

The Lost had been visible for some time now, but the actual border to the edge of the uncanny had still been some miles distant, long enough for the sickness in Eli's body to take greater hold of him.

Peter adjusted his Grip on Eli, "Hey uh, eyeball guy...."

Wink poked out from inside Eli's bag and looked up at Peter with an expression of mild disdain.

"Eyeball, Guy?"

"Sorry, It's not like we've been introduced....anyway, you're slimy right?"

Eli rubbed his groggy aching head, "That is hardly a comforting way to start out a conversation, Peter."

"Not slimy, Pleasantly moist." Wink interjected

"And now it's getting worse." Eli muttered doing his best to stand straight, though the ground around him seemed to be tilting slowly to the left. Just watching was making him nauseous, and he closed his eyes. Peter ducked under his arm to support him upright as Eli wiped a drop of sweat from his chin.

"Moist or slimy, either way would you try to cool him off."

Eli cracked an eye curious about the look Wink was likely giving Peter, but had to close his eyes again almost immediately as the ground continued to spin.

There was silence for a moment, and then Eli shivered as he felt something slither onto his back and then ooze around his neck. Wink was, in fact, slimy or moist, and the dampness did help to dispel the raging heat on his face and neck. He wondered briefly what he must have looked like, supported by Peter and wearing a minor fear around his neck like some sort of gruesome scarf.

"Maybe we should find somewhere to stop." Peter began, but Eli shook his head.

"No, we have to keep going." It wasn't simply his desire to return home that was making him so eager to keep moving, but somewhere between the time they had seen the lost, and the time they had made it to the border, he had spotted a distant band of the roving Outbreak on the horizon. He couldn't have been sure that they were looking for him and Peter, but the feeling in his gut told him they didn't want to find out.

Resting would not be an option.

Not if they wanted to avoid being found.

"But I don't know where we're going, everything looks the same in every direction. We could be going in circles for all I know." It wasn't exactly whining per se Since Peter did have a point.

Eli groaned and slumped back to the ground, "Alright, listen to me Peter, in my bag there is a small hardback book, inside the front page of that book is a star chart. Pull that out for me."

Peter did as instructed, and Eli tried to ignore the vertigo that seemed to be overtaking him despite his eyes being closed.

"I hadn't even seen stars until yesterday, what makes you think I am going to be able to navigate by them?"

"If you shut up and listen, I will tell you."

Peter went quiet and Eli sighed slightly. "Right now we are in the Lost. No matter what you do and how far you walk you will never see the end. Its job is to confuse you, to drive out all hope until you're both mentally and physically lost until you understand nothing but madness."

He could sense Peter gearing up for another question, so he cut in, "However, the one thing that the lost cannot change is the stars. I don't need you to get us out of here perfectly, All I need you to do is head in the direction of the brightest star in the sky. It isn't hard to find, just keep walking in that direction and eventually we'll make it out. Don't deviate for anything, even if you think you see something in the distance, even if it seems like we aren't going anywhere, I need you to keep going" The words rolled over in his head, an echo from a distant past. Words spoken in his father's voice.

A wave of heat had washed over him, causing more beads of sweat to appear on his brow and trickle down his face until they glittered on his cheeks like tears. Wink shifted, and a cool breeze rushed over his neck.

Despite that, he was assailed by a sudden shivering.

His body quaked and shook,and no matter how hard he tried, there was nothing he could do.

"Eli." It was Peter's voice rising in concern.

"We go when the sun sets." he was sure he had spoken, but it seemed as if his voice was far away, echoing down a very long tunnel as if he was falling down into a deep well.

The next hours, for the must have been hours, were restive as he bobbed like a cork in and out of consciousness, almost breaking the surface one moment, and then sinking back down again the next. He couldn't have been sure what was real and what was a dream. On one occasion he thought he felt himself rise to his feet: felt the soles of his boots treading over rough ground, but In the shadows of his throughs, he did not see the ground below his feet, but the slow encroaching darkness enveloping him from all sides.

Images flickered in that blackness, fragments of memories that came to him like ripples on the surface of a dark pond, distorted and wavy.

In the distance he heard the crashing of waves against rock.

He followed that sound through his head and watched as images flickered around him.

A tower on the edge of a vast gray ocean, a warm fire, and stacks and stacks of books curving around the circular interior of a spiral tower, rising towards the light,

He heard a woman singing, saw her gauzy white dress waving in the wind: a wind that smelled like the sea.

And he could smell the dust as it cascaded off of old pages.

He continued to follow the smell, and the trail of memories that led followed after. A man sat by a stone fireplace in a high backed chair, in his lap sat a small boy, and in one hand he held a book, occasionally turning the pages, peering studiously past his wire-rimmed glasses.

Don't let them see you, don't ever let them see you.

He felt a cold chill up his body as the tower by the sea grew dark and the light of the fire seemed to shrink in on itself, like the darkness was pressing down and inward.

Be silent sweetheart, if they can hear you they can see you.

Wind howled and echoed off the stone as waves battered the stony beach threatening to break inside, A small figure hid under a threadbare blanket listening to the roaring of the wind and imagining dark towering monsters rising into the sky.

Remember to close the curtains so you can't be seen. Don't ever let the light leak out at night.

Again the small boy, sitting on the small cot in the dark blanket pulled up to his chin as he stared into the darkness. The shadows around him were full and alive, and they seemed to be reaching towards him as he watched. A candle flickered on a bedside table causing the shadows to dance.

He was so afraid. He wished to run, to run to his parents where he would be safe, but he was afraid.... Afraid of what might be hiding under the bed.

Watching him.

Don't let them see you sweetheart.

Don't let them see you.

In the flickering darkness, he saw the tower again, dark and foreboding against a late evening sky.

The world was lit in shades of monochrome gray.

The sea was as gray as the sky topped with frothing whitecaps as the sun diffused down through a thick blanket of clouds. The beach stretched for neverending miles of gray slate shale and bone white driftwood washed ashore like the remains of some long dead sea god. There were no birds in the sky overhead, and no sound other than the rolling wash of the ocean spilling over and around rock and pebble.

Off on the opposite horizon, a landscape of gray stone cut into a hazy gray distance .

A small boy sat on the beach digging a hole in the ground sifting rocks to the side only to have them spill back into the hole and mostly undo what progress he had made.

Off in the distance, the dark tower cut into the sky as the only feature on an otherwise featureless landscape.

The small boy continued to pile his rocks, mud and sand crusted under the nails of his hands.

His skin was pale, like the bark of the driftwood, and his hair was dark like the stone of the tower.

He did not stand out against the backdrop.

The sky overhead grew dark with whirling clouds as an invisible sun set behind a hazy horizon.

He pushed his too-big glasses up on his face and, with his dirty hands held out the other side began to waddle his way along the beach towards the dark tower.

The boy followed the rocks to a small gray metal door set into the side of the tower and laboriously pushed it open. He raced inside and then paused.

The interior of the room was dark, the only light leaking in from the skylights high above. He ran about the tower looking, but everything was dark and cold. Three bowls were set out on a small driftwood table, with three glasses resting next to them, but the fire was cold. A tattered white apron lay on the back of a chair fluttering in the slight breeze that wafted in through the door.

It was completely silent.

The boy did not make a sound.

He closed the door, and waited, and waited, and waited as night fell upon them, the sky darkening. The light of the dying sun beamed down from above lighting the interior of the tower with a brilliant orange glow, halting at once to spill over the waiting bowles and glasses on the empty table before darkening and passing the world over to night.

Eli was plunged back into cold blackness as if being submerged in cold water. He thought that the sudden jolt had woken him up, but when his eyes opened he found two hands shaking him by the front of his vest, "Eli, Eli wake up."

He tried to open his eyes, but he was so dizzy. Overhead he saw Peter's Silhouette outlined in the darkness, behind him, millions of stars lit up the sky. As soon as he awoke he began to shiver and quake.

His back hurt.

His legs hurt.

Everything hurt.

He broke into a coughing fit, doubling over where he lay on the ground hand clutched to his chest.

"Come on, you have to get up...." Through the groggy haziness that was his mind, he thought he detected the panicked urgency upon the other man's lips, "Eli please get up."

Eli staggered to his feet with Peter's help listening to the other man gasp and pant as he hauled him upright. Peter's breath was warm and thick on the back of his neck, "Someone's following us."

Eli lifted his head, turning to follow Peter's eyes back into the darkness where he saw the flickering of firelight back over the rolling hills.He saw no bodies as they were currently obscured past the hills, but the glow was easily visible against the blackness of the sky.

"Who..." he muttered, his dry tongue rasping past his lips.

"I don't know." Peter whispered in a panic.

He grimaced against the pain in his head and the aching behind his eyes. It was so difficult to think, but even despite that, he was sure he knew who it might be.

He didn't need to hear their wheezing breath to guess, "There's nothing for it but to move faster...."

"But-"

"No arguments Peter. We have to keep going."

Peter did as instructed, dragging Eli fully to his feet where he stood wobbling and dizzy. Peter had to jump forward to steady him before he could fall. Eli felt his eyes rolling in his head. Where once it had been hot, it suddenly grew very cold, and he began to shiver violently. He wrapped his arms around himself as Peter supported his back.

They walked for what felt like forever, but Eli couldn't have known that it had not been more than an hour or so. Every step he took felt like a mile, and his legs and back ached. Overhead the stars stared down at them like a thousand watchful eyes distant and unfeeling. His head swam in and out and in and out of consciousness.

And before him, Peter navigated by only the light of the stars, his footsteps sure over unfamiliar ground as he did not deviate from the course which had been set despite the disconcerting nature of the land around which attempted to drag them onto unfamiliar paths. With every step.

He swore he could see things, shadows in the distance, a black tower, a tall thin man, and even a woman in a long white dress. Though every time he turned to look, they had faded away. His vision swam and churned around him, overhead the stars began to spin, opening up into a wide hole as if to swallow him.

And then he was on the ground, and the stars had stopped moving.

He felt his face against long dry grass and heard an echoing voice overhead.

His vision flickered in and out.

Eli wasn't sure how long he had lain there, but became aware of distant lights traveling towards them in the darkness.

They were coming, getting closer.

They had to move now! He would have gotten up, but his vision continued to spin and undulate enough that he didn't dare try.

He could barely keep his eyes open.

At one point, he thought he heard voices.

"Please, my friend is sick."

Muffled response.

"I don't have money, but I do know medicine. Please we have to hurry"

His voice faded in and out as Eli lay on the ground. The stars continued to churn overhead, and his vision faded away. He felt his body but only faintly as if there were a layer of cloth between him and the outside world.

Someone struggled to lift him.

He moaned in quiet pain, his lungs rasping for air against the congestion in his chest threatening to choke the very air from his lungs. Blackness rose up to enclose him, encircling his body like wicked grasping fingers pressing down on his chest and his stomach. His body throbbed, his chest struggled to rise and fall with his breathing.

Crushing.

He felt like he was being crushed.

But even after a time that all faded away and he was left again to float in blackness.

He was there for some time before he saw a light flickering in the distance. It danced like a candle flame undulating and rolling in a silent, wicked dance. As he grew closer, he could make out shadows dancing on the wall behind the candle.

The closer he grew, the more he could see, until a scene unfolded before him in the darkness.

A small boy sat at the center of a spiral tower, arms wrapped around his knees. Overhead, a large tarp had been pulled across the room's expanse to cover the skylight. The windows were blocked by thick, heavy curtains screwed into place. The door was blocked and padded shut.

The candle guttered.

The small boy held a large kitchen knife in one small hand and his face was streaked with tears.

He had a hand pressed over his mouth, knuckles white with the strain of keeping his sobbing silent as his shoulders shook in great heaving gasps. The candle burned low, and the boy looked up pulling his hand from his mouth. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks were sticky with tears. His nose ran.

As the candle died away, the shadows grew larger, reaching up into the vaulted ceiling of the room as if raising in readiness to plunge down and engulf the boy in blackness.

The boy's heart hammered, and a soft whimper escaped his lips.

His eyes were drawn to the small bed set beside the bedside table and the flickering candle. Disordered sheats and tousled blankets hung over the side of the bed and towards the floor, brushing against rough stone, but where the blankets parted, he could see only blackness, a welling void under the bed that could have stretched on into eternity. It waited there, churning and bubbling as if waiting for him to make a move just one step closer.

The blackness welled outward from under the bed pooling in a small puddle on the stone.

He was crying openly now, tears streaming down his face dripping into pooling black dots on the floor glittering with harsh red light.

A small sob echoed around the spiral tower.

The blackness welled and bubbled and bulged, oozing out from under the bed in a slow gelatinous roll. The candle flickered again, burning even lower. The child's face was ashen, his face frozen in a scream as the blackness spilled onto the floor, like congealing blood or liquid tar. It sucked and rattled across the floor as it spilled outward.

The child was frozen in fear.

The darkness undulated and roiled and drew itself up into a churning glistening mass which reflected the firelight across its layers of slime. The boy scooted back across the floor, dropping the knife to the ground where it glittered from the light of the fire. He tried to scream, wanted to scream, but years and years of fear choked down the scream and left him silent.

The roiling mass heaved against itself, pulling a short mass of slime into a barely knee high column.

The boy was backed against a bookshelf cowering and trembling.

And then the slime grew still, the layers of gelatinous film pulled back, and a great, wet eye blinked at him.

The candle flame lengthened, brightening the room.

It watched him.

He whimpered.

"Well don't just sit there and shiver, that's hardly a way to treat an old friend."

The boy's trembling lips parted, "W-w-we're n-n-n-not friends."

The creature laughed, its high reedy voice filling the room and making the small boy flinch, "To the contrary small one, we have been acquainted for a very long time. And now I am the only friend you have left." It said, winking its solitary, giant eye.