It's getting bad again, isn't it.

I approach the clearing where Plummet lives, following the trail of several long extension cords leading from a house. It's been worrying, how fragmented his mind is becoming. I try my best to keep him together, but sometimes it's not enough. I've seen glimpses of a good man, I want to bring that out to the surface. I want to help him. 

I limp into sight, being careful with my right leg. I can catch a glimpse of something that he hides behind his back, but I can't tell what. I'm tired. He has various dolls of various people arrayed in front of him.

"Hey, I'm back," I say, sitting down with something between flopping from exhaustion and delicately to avoid tweaking my leg more. 

Plummet seems excited. "You're back!"

I nod, feeling a twinge of guilt. "Took longer than a while, sorry." Well, a little more than longer than a while. It had been a few days since I last saw Plum. At least he had the ghosts to keep him company. 

"I don't mind. I'm just glad you're back," he says, beaming. He glances off to the side and his expression turns sour. "Don't you dare. Stop."

The smallest ghost of the four, wearing a dress and two bows in his hair, points behind plummet and seems a bit on the disturbed and urgent side. 

"Whazzup?" I ask, straightening up, confused. "Something behind your back, Plum?" 

Plummet turns back to me, coming back to a nicer expression again. "Hmm?"

"He's pointing to something."

"He’s probably just worried about me. I had too many nightshade at one point while you were gone, and there’s a bit of a mess behind me. Prolly just wanted you to know so you’d be worried too. You don’t need to worry though, I’m fine." 

I wince at the mention of nightshade. Plummet has built up quite the immunity to it, but it's still poison. I don't see why he likes the taste of it so much. The small ghost is shaking his head and pointing more sternly to something behind Plum. Plummet glares at him.  

Another ghost, the one that normally follows me around in a cooking apron and messy short hair uses sign language to communicate to me what's behind Plummet. 

I watch his hands, and then nod to the apron wearing ghost. "My doll?" I turn to Plummet. "Mad at me, huh?"

Plummet's expression turns furious, talking to the apron wearing ghost. "He wasn't supposed to see that! You weren't supposed to tell him!" 

It's... scary, his expression. It reminds me of when we first met and he was hostile to all strangers. I shrink away and watch cautiously. The dolls fly into the air, courtesy of some rough unformed magic from Plummet, my own included. That one bounces off me and one of it's wings fall off. The doll Plummet had of himself is now decapitated. 

"Plummet - " I stop, picking up the doll he made of me. There's a lot more stitches from making repairs to damage around the chest area and the base of the arms and wings. Are those teeth marks? I hold it to my chest and shiver.