It was a typical day in the Wastelands. Wake up from another sleepless night and greet the dreary surroundings of the world. Oswald rolled off of his mattress, standing and stretching the kinks from his back. His ear giving a twitch, he rubbed at his eyes dully, reaching out to pull his curtain back. The mornings were the quietest and probably the only occasion one could relax without fear.

The fear of being caught by the Phantom Blot.

No one was sure what the Blot was, or how it came about to lurk in their perfect world, but one thing was for certain. It was angry. And it wanted to destroy, anything really. Lives, buildings, land. It caused everything it touched to become something otherworldly, comprised of running, sticky ink. It congealed together, melting half the world. The other half lay in ruin. Those that had met the Blot face-to-face had become a creature of similar proportions- Blotlings as they were called. People who lost their hearts and will to press on became these small likenesses of the Blot itself. They roamed around, angry and bitter for their lost lives and causing chaos to satisfy their hollow feelings.

There was only one person that had come in contact with the Blot and had retained his physical form for the most part. He'd foolishly struck a deal with the monster, a pact. That day, the monstrous beast stole his heart away and transformed him into ink. But his strong will had kept him from becoming a mere underling.

Oswald glanced down at his hands, the shiny surface that was once soft fur. Silently, he closed his hand into a fist, tiny threads of shimmering black weaving their way to the floor. Such is the price he paid, from a mouse.

Chapter One- Into the Mirror

Donald Duck rapped on Mickey's door impatiently, resorting to using his fists and loud annoying screeches to further gain attention that he was there. Finally the duck was becoming impatient, his face tinging a flustered red.

"Mickey, open up! I gave up a job for this!"

The small girl next to him bit her lip to keep herself from laughing and otherwise setting off the annoyed duck even more. Reaching over, she gave a gentle pat to his shoulder. "Maybe he's on the phone…?" She offered, in hopes of calming him.

Donald raised his shoulder in an attempt to move away from her, the door finally opening and revealing Mickey, a look of anxiousness plastered onto his face.

"Thank goodness you're both here!" He cried, reaching out to pull both of them in by their wrists. As the two stumbled inside, both could tell the mouse was more excited than usual, and not in a very positive way.

"Mi-Mickey, what's wrong? You sounded so urgent over the phone. What's happened?" the girl spoke up, glancing around the house to see if anything was askew.

"Charlotte….I….I don't know if I was hallucinating. But…" Mickey could barely see straight, starting to walk in circles in a panicked manner. Donald finally stepped in front of him, shaking him by the shoulders in a none too comforting manner. "What is it Mickey, just tell us!"

Mickey pulled away, biting at his lip and finally bolted towards the kitchen. Donald and Charlotte each exchanged bewildered glances before walking towards the kitchen doorway, peeking around to see. Mickey was now situated at the table, pulling at his gloves in a nervous manner.

"Mickey…you can tell us. If it's really bad…you can't handle it by yourself. You can trust us! Please?" Charlotte spoke up, stepping past Donald.

"….Alright. I'm….I think I had a dream. I'm just not sure anymore. I was in bed, I was asleep after reading a book. And then I heard something. I thought someone broke in but…the sound came from….the mirror. In my room. I'm just not sure what compelled me but…I touched it."

Donald tapped his foot somewhat impatiently- he was used to Mickey's stories by now. Most were a little over-embellished.

"And my hand went THROUGH it. I went through the mirror!" Mickey looked up at them, so suddenly Charlotte let out a small gasp before swallowing, nodding for him to continue.

"And I went into another place! It wasn't my house- I don't even think it was this WORLD! And I looked around the corner and there was a tall man sitting at a diorama. He was painting these small buildings. He had…this hat…" He motioned with his hands in a triangular shape atop his own head. "He looked like one of those sorcerer's that you read about in stories. Only he was really there, sitting just a few feet away from where I was standing. He was painting but…the paint was like…magic! Then he walked away…"

Charlotte tilted her head, a small smile starting to form on her face. She really was trying to take him seriously but it sounded like he'd been dreaming.

"So I went over to the diorama and tried to paint with the brush he was using. He made it look so easy." He looked down into his hands again, flushing in embarrassment. "But it….something went wrong. It kept getting bigger and it was terrifying!" He waved wildly with his hands, "It lunged at me and I didn't know what to do! Then I heard someone coming- I….I don't remember what I did. I think I spilled paint on the diorama. I don't remember anything else except running." He buried his face in his hands, giving off a small shudder. "It felt so real. It couldn't have been though….right?"

Donald crossed his arms, shaking his head, "Of course it wasn't real! You said so yourself you'd been reading before you fell asleep. You probably dreamed all of that stuff up from your book."

"But it felt so real." Mickey looked to Charlotte helplessly for another answer.

"Uh…well…to be…to be honest Mickey, I think Donald's right. It sounds like a dream."

"It wasn't a dream…it was more like a nightmare." He replied, sighing.

"Well it's over now. There's no monsters or sorcerers here." Charlotte replied, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the back.

"I gave up a whole day of sailing for this…" Donald grumbled in agitation, earning a glare from Charlotte who was trying her best to calm the mouse.

"C'mon, have a little compassion, Don." Donald glared at her as she stressed out the nickname he hated.

"Don't call me that! Here's some compassion, don't wake me up at 5 A.M. to call me over every time you have a nightmare. Donald turned on his heel, stomping out into the hallway.

"Don't take it personally Mickey…he's just stubborn and chronically cranky." Charlotte gave him a reassuring pat. "He cares. He's just awful at showing it." Mickey nodded, giving a small smile.

"And don't let what happened last night get to you. He's right. Just a bad dream is all." Charlotte turned, giving him a wink, "I'll try and cool Quackers down and we'll go do something today, alright?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Mickey continued to smile, although it was still fairly easy to recognize he was troubled, but maybe a day out would remedy his fears.

Charlotte left the room, looking around the main floor in search for the stressed duck, and finding no signs of him there, ran up the stairs towards the hallway. "Dooooon. You in the bathroom having a hissy fit?" She teased, grinning as she crept down the hall past Mickey's room. Abruptly, a flash of white feathers appeared from behind the corner.

"AH! Aw c'mon, that was lame! Don't scare me." Charlotte clutched at her shirt before frowning. "So you lost a day of fishing, you can always make it up tomorrow. Mickey's really upset about this. The least we can do is make him feel better."

"Look- anytime I have a nightmare nobody makes a big deal over me. You move on." He replied.

"Mickey's more sensitive than you. He's really spooked. Besides, what kinds of nightmares do you have? You have to take care of your three nephews occasionally? BUT WAIT. That's right, you really DO!"

Donald glared daggers at her before waddling past, "Oh can it you big palooka. I might as well blow the whole day anyhow since I took it off."

Charlotte grinned, turning to follow him before hearing something echo to her left. She glanced into the room she was passing and found it was coming out of Mickey's. Tilting her head to listen again, a strange warbled echoing noise sounded from the room again.

"Did you hear that?" She half whispered, starting into the room carefully, Donald turning to see what the hold-up was.

"Whaa? I don't hear a darn thing." Donald stood in the doorway, "Are you hallucinating too now?"

"Shh, you can't tell me you can't hear that. It sounds like it's coming from…." She crept closer and closer until she found herself staring into the mirror's direction. "…Donald…you have to come hear this." She said breathlessly.

Donald rolled his eyes and entered, standing in front of the mirror and pressing his head against it experimentally, "I don' hear- AH!" Suddenly he pulled away, flailing his arms.

"Wha, what was it?" Charlotte cried, rushing over.

"I went through the glass-" Donald rubbed at his head and gawked at the mirror.

" ….You can't mean….now we're both losing it." Charlotte stared at him, trying to assess the sudden loss of explanation when suddenly the mirror shifted their reflections, distorting it. They watched, bewildered and unaware of what was about to happen next.

A dark inky hand shot through the glass, latching onto them both and pulled them, yelling into the void of the mirror.

"Ahhh…..my head hurts."

"You're on top of me, get off!"

Charlotte creaked an eye open, noting the dull pain flooding throughout her body. A soft, warm pillow was struggling beneath her…

Oops.

"Gah- sorry Don, I didn't mean to crush you!" Charlotte quickly rolled off, allowing the duck to breathe once more. He sat up, shaking his head fiercely to will the dizziness away. "Where are we?" He demanded.

"Like I know. I don't even remember what's going on."

"…Neither do I actually."

They both looked at one another somewhat helplessly, the fog around them making it incredibly hard to see.

"Wait…the mirror."

"….In Mickey's room." Charlotte finished, frowning to remember. "Didn't you go up to it?"

"You're blaming this on me?" Donald spat out incredulously, taking it the wrong way.

"Lighten up! I'm just trying to put everything together! …Then it moved. Remember our reflections moved?"

"Uhh…this….this can't be happening."

"I think I remember falling. I can remember the wind in my hair. I just…I don't understand." Charlotte shifted, trying to stand up.

"Do you think we're both….asleep?" She finally stammered out, wobbling to her feet with much difficulty.

"What are the chances of that?" Donald planted his hands against the ground to push himself up.

"What are the chances of us being sucked inside of a mirror?" She countered, still looking somewhat horrified.

"Okay, okay! Let's just calm down and try to…try to figure out where we are at least." Donald dusted his shirt off from the dust and began moving through the fog. Charlotte was caught up in staring at the sky, which was a dark swirl of violets and grays; so much entranced with it she lost sight of her companion.

"Wah- DONALD! Don't just leave me here!" She yelped into the fog, standing there trying to make out any indication of him. "Geez, what kind of guy just takes off into the unknown?" Heaving a sigh, she timidly played with her hands before taking small steps outward. "It's just fog. There's nothing here….it's just fog. Just water vapors actually. Gah. I'm going to kill that duck for leaving me." Nervously she wrung her hands, continuing to walk in no particular direction. Everything was blanketed in a dark mass of heavy fog and the colors of the sky didn't help either. Every direction looked similar.

"If I can just find…somewhere…" Shockingly enough, she couldn't even make out the looming structure literally feet in front of her face. The fog was so dense. Her face slammed directly into the metal side and she lurched back, grabbing her nose as tears began stinging at her eyes.

"OW. " She continued to pinch at her nose, trying to will the pain away as she stared upward in frustration. "What kind of landscaper puts a building in the middle of a foggy place- now that's just a health hazard!" Rubbing at her nose and sniffling loudly to get her sinuses in working order again from the assault, she felt the side of the building blindly in hopes of coming across a knob or door of some sort. Her hand grasped at not a knob, but a cloth-like object.

"HEY!"

"WAH!" Charlotte dropped the object which turned out to be Donald's hat as he glared up at her.

"What are you doing?" He yelled at her, fixing his cap, shaken up by her sudden appearance.

"You shouldn't have left me- and what is this, a house?"

"Hmph. Can't tell."

"Knock on it." Charlotte urged, stepping behind Donald.

"Me? But who knows what kind of person lives here! I'm not knocking, you do it!" He quickly sidestepped in back of her, pushing her forward towards the door.

"Nuh-uh- what if he's a killer?"

"So you want ME to be killed instead?"

"Stop it let's just-!" But it was too late, their tug of war and misplaced footing had caused both of them to slam into the door and fall inside. Both had began to roll across a metal flooring of some kind until one of the panels gave out due to rust and their combined weight and sent them dropping underground.

Finally both landed on a much harder floor, groaning in pain. Donald pried himself loose from underneath Charlotte once more, one of his tail feathers actually being ripped off in the process.

"Well that was one of your worse ideas." Charlotte coughed out, rubbing at her ribcage, sitting up.

"This place is weird- there's machines everywhere!" Donald stepped around the room to further examine. "Beakers?" He stared through one of them, causing his face to become distorted from the glass on the other side.

"Equipment? Beakers? This looks like some sort of….laboratory or something." Charlotte stood up, brushing herself off, looking up at a large spiraling metal staircase leading towards a door on the opposite side of the room. Around the rest of it lay various broken looking machines and vials filled with colorful liquids.

"Who lives here?" She mused quietly, poking at one, before jumping at the sound of the metal door slamming open.

"Intruders? How dare you defile my quarters!" A large man stepped out over the stairway railing, top heavy and clad in a dirty lab coat and black gloves.

"Defile? We fell down here on accident!" Donald shouted. Charlotte nudged at him in an attempt to quiet him. This was no time to be talking back- especially if they were the ones who intruded.

"Fell down- what a joke! I don't want to hear your excuses." The man hissed, making his way down the staircase, causing Charlotte to swallow nervously.

"Thieves come to steal my findings?" He gave off a wheezy laugh, rounding the last set of stairs before making his way towards them.

"We're not thieves." Donald growled out, "We don't even know where we are, or even who YOU are!" He insisted.

"Thieves, burglars, AND liars?" The man shrieked, advancing on them. Charlotte began backtracking, grabbing at Donald's collar to pull him back and keep him from lunging at the much larger male.

"W-wait, we can explain!" Charlotte whimpered out, not wanting to be the next experiment. Fortunately, and unfortunately for both of them, the mad scientist's mad advance on them was stopped as a figure casually made his presence known on their other side.

"Hey- that's not how we treat newcomers, doctor."

The man stopped in his tracks, curling his gloved hands into fists. "But they've-"

"They haven't stolen anything. Not that anything down here is worth stealing." The figure gave off a dark chuckle. "Go easy on them."

"Wha…hey…" Charlotte murmured helplessly, looking between the two, somewhat thankful they'd been saved. "W-we got lost. Can you tell us where we are?"

"Yeah, I can tell you where you are. " He replied, a grin on his face. "You're in the Wastelands."

Charlotte let go of Donald's collar as he began fidgeting, wanting to get a glimpse of the other figure.

"It's basically a retirement home for the rejected."

"…But…we're not….rejected. Whatever that's supposed to mean."

"Yeah! We're still alive and kicking." Donald said, now being able to see the figure, and likewise. The figure's dark eyes widened for but a moment, mouth dropping open.

"…D….Donald? Donald Duck? How…?" He was shocked, for whatever reason.

Charlotte looked to Donald, whispering, "Do you know him?"

"No!"

During their small exchange, the figure pulled himself together, reeling from the shock, the grin from before slapped firmly into its place once more. "Eh heh. We haven't met personally, but I've heard much about you. I must say…you're one of the last people I'd expect down here. Did someone younger replace you…?" He cooed, Donald flailing angrily in response.

"Nobody replaced me and no one ever will! We've ended up here by mistake I tell you!"

"Alright….alright." He held up his hands in mocking defense. "Temper.~ I've heard of your infamous tantrums but I never thought you'd be so quick to spark." He laughed slightly, his eyes drifting over to Charlotte. "And what about you?"

"Me? I'm…I'm not really anyone. But I'm not a reject either!"

"One can never tell." The figure taunted, shrugging as he examined them. "But…I'm awfully curious now." He crossed his arms, drifting lazily past them as his deep, soft voice continued on in a drawling manner, "Would it be factual for me to assume both of you are good friends of the mouse? I know you are, Donald." Donald flinched at the sound of his name running through the other's voice. It sounded twisted somehow.

"Friends of the mouse? You mean Mickey Mouse?" Charlotte asked. Likewise at the mention of Mickey's name, the figure's shoulders flinched in a slight manner.

"That is the only infamous mouse I can think of. Unless you count Mighty. But he didn't last long." He turned, giving them a small smirk.

"…Mickey's a likeable guy." Charlotte carefully countered, wondering exactly why this information mattered.

"Arguable. But that isn't what I asked now, is it?" His tone was playful, yet his words held a sinister seriousness that both couldn't help but feel threatened by.

"…Yeah. We're friends." Charlotte finally answered. She wondered what it would mean either way, but the response appeared to be one the stranger favored as he was grinning.

"I see. Well. Any friend of his is sure to be a friend of mine. And how rude of me- here you are guests in our lovely world and I've neglected to even show you around. Not that there's a lot to see." He hastily added.

"Uhh….well…I…" Charlotte looked to Donald who merely narrowed his glaring eyes, tapping his foot impatiently. "We're kind of at a loss here so I guess we could use a tour guide."

The mad doctor and the stranger exchanged an unspoken glance and the stranger nodded his head towards the doorway. "This way- I'm sure you don't want to spend another moment down here. Terribly boring." He grinned.

The mad doctor's beady eyes glared at them unpleasantly as he pulled a welding mask over his face, starting up a welding torch, stray sparks flying outwards from it as he set to work building something the twosome couldn't quite make out. They both hurriedly followed after the stranger, Donald having a suspicious feeling building in his gut, but anywhere was better than here. Charlotte grasped the rusty stairway railing as she panted out, "What's your name?"

The figure looked over his shoulder, his ear giving a twitch as his grin grew even larger. "Oswald. Oswald the Lucky Rabbit."