Hush

Mistress arrived at the Tower early this morning. Like, at about 4am. Sol and the others immediately went to bed, but I had been up awake last night, due to the pain my body was going through. When I heard them pass by, I decided to go pay Mistress a visit. I knocked on the door to her room, closed for a change. The Tower was noticeably more fixed then when I first returned.
"Enter." Mistress replied, sounding much older than I remembered. I opened the door, and Turnip was standing in the corner, reading, while speaking with Mistress about something. She looked more pale, and....was that some warping on her arm? "Shut up, Turnip." She ordered him, then turned to him. One of her eyes was missing. Not cut out, just...gone. I just stared, trying to find words to say but nothing came out but stutters. "So you're back." Mistress said, ignoring her problems. "I had a bit of a nasty encounter with The Rake. Removed my eye clean off and everything." She chuckled a bit.
"My body hurts all over..." I replied, beginning to find it hard to stand as a shock of pain resonated throughout my entire torso.
"Considering the company you were keeping, I'm not surprised." She held out her warped hand. "Spit on it." She ordered me.
I gave her a confused glance, but followed her orders anyways. She sniffed her hand, stared at it, then told Turnip to bring her a towel. "Yep, as I expected. It's ink. You're turning into a Camper. Given the stage of how much it's taken over your body, I'm surprised you aren't already a part of EAT." Mistress sighed, wiping off her hand. "No, there's no getting around. You need to pay a visit to The Quiet. Tyrone'll drive you. He's strong enough to keep you from falling in." She sighed.
"What happened to your accent?" I asked her, having been nodding throughout the explanation to change the subject.
"I died again." Mistress replied. "I've been dying quite often. Timberwolves are everywhere. It's nothing good, I'll tell you that much. We're already running a bit thin on Dolls, and between the ones I'm using and the ones that are being killed themselves, we don't have any to spare. But either way, Tyrone will take you to The Quiet. You'll lose both the strings defending you and the ink. If you want to, you'll forget all about The Fears, everything, and you can go back to your normal life. Or you can stay my servant." I nodded, and started to make my leave.
She called at me as I was exiting. "If it was me, I'd leave. You probably won't last long if you stay here. But it's up to you."
Tyrone drove me to Antartica, to the place where The Quiet resided. It had obviously grown, since the snow around was clinging to the walls. We needed a big shovel and Ice Pick to get through, but we managed to force our way in. Once in the chamber The Quiet was in, we were instantly sucked to the railing, and barely was able to clamber to the safe zone. I just then noticed the heavy chain and welding torch Tyrone was carrying, and realized I was going to have to go over the railing.
"Uh, Tyrone, just how close to The Quiet am I gonna have to get?" I asked him as he double wound the chain around me.
"Into it, sir." Tyrone replied, pulling the end of the chain back to just before the loops and welding it shut.
"Are you kidding?! I'll be destroyed! Torn to shreds! I'll-" I began to protest, but then after feeling a hard smack on the back of my head, I blacked out.
I woke up....I guess it was inside The Quiet. It was...well, silent. Completely silent. It was also clear. Oh so clear. I could see for miles, except there was nothing to look at. "Daniel Leonard Thompson." my voice spoke to myself in my head. "You have been purged completely of any traces of strings or ink. Now you have a choice. You can either serve me, or forget completely about any and all of us you have met."
"I want to serve Mistress Maple again." I thought back.
"You may not." My own voice replied to me. I tugged on the chain I was still suspended on twice. I felt myself being pulled. I felt the suction, and yet there's nothing to suction. I blacked out again.
I woke up in Tyrone's truck. My body hurt no more. "How did I get out of The Quiet?" I asked Tyrone.
"Hmm? We haven't even exited the truck yet, sir. And judging how the Quiet's facility is completely covered by snow, we won't be able to." He pointed to the facility, which was covered by a giant snowdrift. "You passed out on the way here. It appears this mission was a failure."
"No, I'm fine. I got all the ink removed. We can go home. We succeeded." I replied.
So we went home. And now I'm going to sleep. Wonderful sleep. Goodnight.
~Thompson out.