Quitetly, Quiggly stepped into the darkness as he stealthily approached and steeled himself to find out what was happening. He heard the woman laughing before she turned to look at him. The voice was the same woman's he heard the first time, but Quiggly knew that this time it would be different. He couldn't tell if it was his imagination or whether his ears had picked up her laughter from before. "So, Quiggly," she said, "are you ready to join us? "I... I don't know what you mean," Quiggly said, trying to stammer out the lie. The woman laughed. "Oh, Quiggly," she said, "I really don't know if you're a real animal or not. Are you real, or a monster? The kind of animal that hides in the dark, eats raw meat and then craps out the bones onto your plate? If you were that type of animal, I'd say I'd rather eat you." Quiggly could do nothing to deny the accusation. The sound of the woman's laughter filled the air; he couldn't tell if it was a real thing or a product of his imagination. He was afraid to move, afraid that the woman would see him if he tried to take his eyes away from her. He had never been a fool, never even been close to one, but right now he felt like he was one. The woman's face became more and more twisted as she laughed at him. Suddenly, her face seemed to morph into that of a monkey, complete with a mischievous grin on her face. She reached out with one hand, and grabbed Quiggly by the throat. He gasped for air, but it just seemed to squeeze tighter, as though trying to strangle him. His lungs burned; he was barely getting any air. The woman's voice took on a screeching tone, and the woman's hand grew long and thin as it held Quiggly by the throat. Quiggly thought that he could feel something breaking and tearing through his throat as he realized that he was gasping for air but getting nothing. His chest began to burn, and his vision started to become dim. The woman's face changed back into that of a monkey again, but the grin was now different; she had the expression of someone truly angry. She took Quiggly by the neck, then swung him around before pushing him off to the side. "You must be one of those animals," she said, "One that's all alone in the dark. You must be wondering why you're here, alone, in a place where there's no food and no company. I'm going to be your company." Quiggly's eyes fluttered open and he could make out the light from the entrance to the building. He could barely move his arms, but he was on his back. He could hear a distant echo of the woman's laugh as she said something, but he was too weak to understand it. "I'm sorry," Quiggly managed to speak up. "Quiggly," the woman replied, "I'm not sure if you know it, but you're on my menu. I've waited a long time for someone like you. "The last one was so ordinary. I don't think he even knew what he was eating. He just kept coming and coming. Even I wasn't really sure where he was going to go next. And then, he died. "But you, Quiggly, you're something else. You think that I'm going to be waiting for you? You're an idiot. You want me to kill you? I'm going to make you go all the way. I'm going to squeeze you. I'm going to rip you apart. I'm going to eat you. "Come on," the woman hissed, her voice becoming very menacing. "I can't wait to watch you squirm and squeal. "Let's see if you survive." "Why are you doing this? "Why are you asking me that, Quiggly? I have plans for you, and you're just going to let me waste my time on you? "Go," the woman yelled. "Get out of here!" The woman's laughter echoed through the darkness, and then a small object struck the side of Quiggly's head. He groaned as the pain in his head increased, and then he felt like he was going to fall off his back. With all his might, he pushed himself up and turned to look at his attacker. Quiggly saw a little ball of fur sitting on the ground, just a few feet away. It stared back at him with its big round eyes. The ball of fur appeared to be holding a black ball in its hands, and Quiggly could see that the ball seemed to glow. He wasn't sure if it was on fire or what, but the little creature seemed very eager to tell him that he had been a bad boy. "Oh, stop it," the woman said. "That's all you can do?" She bent over and picked up the ball of fur, then tossed it onto her shoulder. "Look," she said, "I caught another one for you." The little ball of fur had landed on her shoulder with the ease of someone picking up a toy. She picked the animal up and put it in her mouth. Quiggly could see that the little creature was whimpering and shaking as the woman began to tear into the ball. "You see, Quiggly," the woman said, chewing, "if you can't survive with me, then I'm going to kill you." "What do you mean?" "What does that mean, 'What do you mean?' you know what I mean." The woman's face had changed once more, and this time her form seemed to be that of a cat. She looked like she was ready to attack, and her sharp claws were ready to tear into Quiggly's body. "Why are you so scared of me, Quiggly? I'm not going to eat you. I'm going to teach you a lesson. And I won't just kill you. I'm going to crush you to pieces." Quiggly was still too weak to understand what she was saying. The thought of her killing him, then crushing him to pieces, made him too sad to do anything but lay there and cry. The woman's face slowly morphed back into that of a monkey again, but it was a monkey who was not happy. "You're a monster," the monkey said. "You just want to eat people and get to the next level. "I have no interest in being your little toy. I have much better plans for you. I'm going to give you some choices, and then you're going to choose which one you want. I'm going to send you into the wild, into the empty, and you'll be left there to survive. "I'm going to send you into the wild," the monkey repeated, "into the empty, and you'll be left there to survive. "One of the first things you'll notice is that you won't have much in the way of food. There won't be much of a society for you to belong to, or to follow, and there won't be anyone there to help you if you need anything. Your own kind will never be there for you. You'll have to make a new world for yourself, a world that will live and die all by itself." Quiggly was still unable to understand the full implications of the monkey's words. He thought that maybe he was going to die, and all this was just a dream. But as the monkey kept repeating the same thing over and over again, Quiggly began to understand what it meant. "I'm going to send you into the wild," the monkey repeated, "into the empty, and you'll be left there to survive. "The world will begin for you. You'll have to make a new world for yourself, a world that will live and die all by itself. You'll have to make a new world for yourself, a world that will live and die all by itself. "But no matter where you go, it won't be all bad. I'm going to send you into the darkness of your past. You'll have a chance to find out what it's like to be yourself. "You'll have a chance to go back to where you started, back to that time when your parents were alive, when the world was still young, when you didn't have to think about anything. You'll have to think about everything. And you'll have to make it happen. And it won't all be bad." The words seemed to have been spoken for a long time, and they seemed to go on and on. But there was something that Quiggly couldn't quite comprehend. The Monkey kept repeating the same thing over and over again, but it had a different voice now. The voice sounded a little more human than before. Quiggly thought he could hear the deep tones of an adult telling someone something. "There'll be more. You have to make more," the voice said. "There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. "You have to take your time. There's no rush. You have to make sure that everything's done right. You have to take your time. There's no rush. You have to make sure that everything's done right. You have to take your time. There's no rush. You have to make sure that everything's done right. "There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more. There'll be more. You have to make more." The monkey kept repeating the same words, with the same tone, and it was impossible to tell whether the monkey was a human or an animal. "You have to make more. You have to make more. You have to make more. You have to make more." When it was over, the monkey stopped, and the words just kept repeating. Quiggly heard a deep, low moan of a tired, tired monkey. He had just learned a very important lesson, and all he wanted to do was to curl up and cry. He still couldn't understand what was being said, and he was so afraid. He had never been so afraid in his whole life. He began to remember his parents, and he thought of how he used to love to go to bed with his father's old video games on his head. He thought of all the memories that made him who he was. He thought of all of the times he had spent with his mother, and how they would talk and talk and talk. And he thought of all the places they had been together, all over the world. They were all gone now. He wondered how he would ever get to see them again. Tears began to stream from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "What's that?" the monkey said. "Nothing," Quiggly said. "You're crying," the monkey said, sounding a little confused. "I'm so sorry," Quiggly repeated. "You're sorry?" the monkey said, sounding more and more sad. "For what? You should be ashamed. The world was never going to be perfect. It's never going to get better, no matter how many lessons you teach. You were always going to be alone, and you always were. That was just the way it was." Quiggly couldn't understand what he was trying to tell him, but he understood the monkey was right. "It's okay," he said. "I'm used to it now." "That's not what I mean," the monkey said. "I'm going to kill you. You can't kill me." "I'm not trying to kill you," Quiggly said. "I don't mean to kill you. I'm sorry. I'm going to make it all right. I'm sorry. I'll get you something to eat. I'm sorry. I'm going to get you something to eat." "That's not what I mean," the monkey said. "I'm going to kill you." "I'm going to get you something to eat," Quiggly repeated. "That's not what I mean," the monkey said. "I'm going to kill you." "I'm sorry," Quiggly said. "I'm sorry." "That's not what I mean," the monkey said. "I'm going to kill you." "You can have some cereal, and a few bites of some fruit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "That's not what I mean," the monkey said. "I'm going to kill you." "You're sorry? How is that going to make things better?" "You have to make yourself." "You have to make yourself?" "You have to make yourself." "You're right. I'm going to make myself." "No, I'm going to make myself. I'm going to make myself. I'm going to make myself. I'm going to make myself." "You're right. I'm going to make myself." "You're going to make yourself. I'm going to make myself." "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "That's not what I mean. I'm going to kill you." "I'm sorry," Quiggly said, as tears began to fall. "That's not what I mean. I'm going to kill you." "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. 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