Shadows (Don't Starve)

Demons

It had been a few days since you brought the strange man home, and each minute was an improvement over the last.

For starters, you were no longer afraid you'd have to chop off his extremities. His nose, hands, and toes were a healthy pink, and his cheeks showed signs of a blush. All in all, project Save-A-Guy-From-The-Brink-Of-Death was a success.

What you were afraid of, however, was what he'd do when he awoke.

What if he stole from you? What if he killed you for resources? After all, you did know barely anything about this man, and the fact that he was associated with the affairs of the shadows wasn't that great of a confidence booster.

They lingered around camp now, those damnable haunts. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to do what one wanted you to do. But then again, what was the alternative? Leave the man to a slow death by starvation?

The smell of cigars and a low chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts. Maxwell. You felt a scowl tug at your lips.

"You sure are a weird one, pal." The demon sneered, his beady eyes alight with amusement. "I had no idea that you'd rescue my little pawn there. What an interesting turn of events!"

You ignored him, hoping one of the shadow creatures would drag him off into the darkness. He'd certainly deserve it.

Maxwell tapped your nose with one of his long, talon-like fingers, expression slightly annoyed. "You're not deaf, right? I'm talking to you."

"Whaddaya want?" Came your hiss. "I'm busy, so why don't you take your little pain train off the rails for a bit?"

The demon paused, before bursting into a fit of obnoxious cackling. "I knew I liked you for a reason! You got spunk, kid. I like that."

"Well you can take my spunk and shove it where the sun don't shine, Mr. Maxwell." You brought the axe down on a log, threateningly. "Haven't you done enough harm for one lifetime?"

He shrugged, spiked shoulder pads bouncing, and puffed on his cigar. "Well, that depends on who's view we're going by. You just found yourself a good little friend. Some might say that I led him to you. Or vice versa."

"Whatever." You sighed, eyeing Maxwell warily. "So, is there something you want? My mortal soul?"

"Tempting, but no." Maxwell suddenly became very serious, the light spilling out from the fireplace giving his face an austere glow. "I came to give you a warning. Keep that man alive, and everything will be fine."

"What makes you think I'd do otherwise?"

Once again, the demon barked a harsh laugh, patting your shoulder. "Oh sweet, naïve (y/n). Wilson plays a very important part on my chessboard, and I can't have him being knocked down. Don't. fail. me. That's all, for now..."

He evaporated into a dark nothingness, leaving nothing but the scent of smoke. You grimaced. Perfect.

You cast you gaze the tent, as a soft groan drifted to your ears. All your frustration vanished. It wasn't your guest's fault that Maxwell was a piece of shit...

What you weren't prepared for was intense, dark eyes to swallow up your own. Wilson stared at you, his expression like that of a wild creature caught in headlights. The man swallowed, before lifting up a trembling hand in a wave.