The Rescue

The Ivy Fields was quiet that day, the 2 suns were shining, the purple ivy that grew in lines across the fields made the exotic surroundings burst with arrays of different shades of purple.

Nearby, the Winter Willow, an old archaic tree, one of the first in the land, was shaking. The vine-like leaves of the Winter Willow blasted off the ends of the branches and formed a pile of leaf litter that covered the fields. From within the willow, a small black hole was forming, swirling slowly yet it had the power to uproot the willow in which it formed. As it got bigger, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the fields, the many flying rabbits that flocked near the gates to the fields flew away as they were frightened by the noise. From within the aperture, a body started materializing.

Once the body fully appeared, it was flung out of the aperture in a matter of seconds. It was the body of a 15-year-old boy, who had unfortunately come across one of these apertures, it was Michael Blankley.

Michael squirmed on the floor as pain tore through him like a vinegar to an open wound. He was covered in leaves and the ivy that he previously saw.

Sitting next to him was a man, his face was contorted yet cleverly hidden by a mask which resembled a human skull. He wore a long red cloak, a blue Jester's outift, a tricorn hat and carried a long wooden staff that was carved carelessly. He breathed heavily.

The man continously poked Michael with his staff. Michael opened his eyes slightly but made no sudden movements.

"My, my," The man laughed, "What have we here? Another victim of the aperture, oh dear, we'll have to sort you out?"

"Wh-what? Where a-am I?" Michael responded.

"You're in Lunacy. The names Sprink, feel free to call me anything you want."

Sprink bowed and took of his hat. Michael thought he was somekind of idol, king or God.

"You my dear child are stuck in Lunacy forever, but I will help you escape."

Sprink tried to aid Michael by picking him up, but Michale just fell back to sleep. Sprink sat down next to him, scratching his head and fiddling with the leaves on the ground.

The End

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