The Redmadafa

by Gary Foshee

  THE REDMADAFA

  their prey and capture more souls than all the other servants

  combined.

  Slithler, the most feared beast of the land, rules the valley

  of bones, which is located at the base of Mount Viper and cov-

  ers thousands of square miles. Slithler, which means “The Fallen One,” is prince of the valley and ruler of the air. He is a long, black scaly serpent that slides on his bel y and travels on top and under the valley through tunnels. He has a long, red line that curves

  down his spine all the way to his stinger-forked tail.

  Slithler is not bound to the original form of his body. His

  knowledge of the dark arts allows him to transform into any

  beast or creature regardless of shape or size. His voice is deceptively mesmerizing and his beauty is unequaled. He is always on

  the hunt looking for someone to devour. He comes forth with

  the darkness and with one bite from his razor-sharp fangs or one attack from his stinger he traps souls forever in his kingdom.

  Once souls are sucked from the body, the body wastes away, lit-

  tering the valley floor with bones—bones by the millions.

  The day was hot, extremely hot. A spel binding heat-haze rose

  from the parched terrain blurring his vision. Looming high in

  the skyline, Mount Viper stood like a fortress of doom. There

  wasn’t a hole in the valley deep enough to hide its jagged peaks that clawed the smoke billowing from the center of its crater.

  Caboose watched streams of lava creep down its fluted spines

  into the ravines below. The lava scorched every brown tooth and

  green spike in its path before accumulating in large rivers that split across the valley and spilled into a dead sea.

  Scattered across the land, russet sandstone pinnacles soared

  high against towering mesas; they painted a rusty horizon-

  tal backdrop across the landscape creating an optical al usion

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  confusing those trapped in the land of tragedy. Small mounds of

  bones spread across the loathsome surface. Sallow piles of them

  were stacked deep in low-lying waterless basins and depressions, while others gathered in wide rows. The hollow rods-of-death

  rattled in the wind as he walked by causing his stomach to retch.

  Faint wheel impressions, which were wider than normal cart

  tracks, cut into the ground. They curved up and over the plateau following a path toward Mount Viper.

  Shrill howls pierced the wind. Caboose stopped and listened

  but couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from. The

  vibrations from the wind and the constant pounding of dust and

  pebbles disoriented him. He was covered from head to toe with

  it; he looked more like a water-grazer than a unidor. It was in his teeth and his mouth, which was making him cough up brown

  slimy slobber; it was even in his ears making him scratch them

  until they bled, impairing his hearing.

  “Water, if I only had some water, I could—I could make apple

  fritters,” uttered Caboose, not making any sense; his stomach was as dry as a summer drought. He was not going to make it much

  farther if he didn’t get some help, and fast.

  The valley of bones was not the lush green garden filled with

  all kinds of spectacular delights Caboose had seen through the

  gate. No, he had been tricked. It was a harsh land buckled with

  steep mountains and scarred with deep ravines—a death trap

  licking up any ounce of moisture that managed to gather in low

  areas. It lacked lakes and rivers teeming with cold, fresh purple mountain majesty. There were no Mushy Marts and Blossom

  Berry trees as far as the eye could see. The crystal sea was a dead sea. It offered no water; it gave no life. It was full of salt and poison with terrible creatures lurking beneath its surface.

  A constant east wind blew over the barren wasteland making

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  THE REDMADAFA

  it difficult for anything but green spikes and brown teeth to grow.

  When a storm blew through, it broke off brown teeth and cast

  them across the valley floor like sand pipers marching into bat-

  tle. Their short stubby teeth tore through flesh and bone, and

  injected painful venom into anything they scraped.

  Darkness covered everything in the valley. The Shadow of

  Death laid siege to the sky; it was so thick and powerful that only a few rays of sunshine ever made it through. The valley floor was littered with bones, thousands and thousands of bones covered

  in a thin layer of ashy-soot from Mount Viper. The bones were

  from all those who had been tricked by Lucky and who had never

  found their way out of the valley.

  The only way out was back through The Scorpion Pass Gate;

  but that was the problem. Scorpion Pass from the North side was

  easy to enter. It had a broad, wide trail that was flat and easy to navigate. But once through the gate—and the trick—it dropped

  15,000 feet into the valley of bones. No one in all the earth could climb its steep face, and even if they could, a battalion of monstrous trol s guarded the cliff face.

  Slithler’s servants patrolled the valley in front of them and

  could feel the vibrations of anyone approaching. It was impossi-

  ble for anyone to make it through the guarded fortress; impossible at least for anyone of this world. There was one—and only one

  that was not bound by time or space. Legend spoke of a warrior,

  mighty in battle that would come and deliver those trapped in

  the valley.

  A dust storm blew across the valley disorienting Caboose and

  causing him to walk in circles. The dust was so thick he could

  barely see his hand in front of his face. After several hours the storm final y cleared, revealing a mountain silhouette in the

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  distance. He followed a dirt path to a dry creek bed adjacent a

  ridgeline. He followed the ridge along the valley continuing

  south for what seemed like an eternity.

  He walked along the rocky trail, still confused about every-

  thing that had happened. Something felt wrong and it wasn’t

  just the hunger bugs revolting in his stomach. How did all these bones get here?

  Caboose stopped and looked over his shoulder. He felt like

  someone or something was watching him, following him, closing

  in on him.

  Exhausted and besieged with stomach pains, he stopped and

  took shelter in a cave under a large craggy cliff face several days South of Viper. The heat from the valley floor had charred his

  dusty-black feet making them throb and tender to the touch. The

  cave looked like a safe, cool place to rest, so Caboose ventured in and found a place to relax. Not realizing how exhausted and

  dehydrated he was, he dozed off.

  Outside, the wind picked up accumulating brown teeth at

  the entrance to the cave. Banis (tiny cave creatures with winged ears and three small horns flowing single-file down the back of

  their head) crawled across the cave floor. Wind funneled through the cave howling and whistling. It filtered pass Caboose cooling large sweat beads on his body and making him wake with shivers.

  Awake and cold, he continued to lie on the ground, not wanting

  to stand on his charred feet. His ears twitched to sounds of howlers off in the distance. Caboose still had no idea how he ended

  up so far away from Mount Viper and the Scorpion Pass Gate,

&nb
sp; but finding his way back was proving more difficult by the hour.

  Viper, by his estimates, was at least a four-day journey. So, he decided to stay the night in the cave; it would protect him from the wind and would keep him warm through the cold, dark night.

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  Caboose trekked deep into the cave fascinated by its unique

  rock formations. He noticed strange strings of grass all over

  the wal s covered in slimy brown mucus that had a faint tang

  smel . Under each cluster of grass was a collection of various

  types of bones—bones from all types of animals and creatures.

  What he had failed to realize was he had taken shelter in the den of a crawler, who, at any moment, would be waking to start its

  nightly hunt.

  Caboose saw something flicker out of the corner of his eye.

  Then he saw it again.

  His heart raced, causing his chest to heave.

  He hid behind a stalagmite, but it was too late. Whatever it

  was had seen him. He ran further into the cave trying to get away, but because of his short leg, he could only go so fast.

  The beast matched his footsteps stride-for-stride. He could

  hear it drawing closer as sounds ricocheted from all directions, confusing him. Caboose was scared. He rounded a corner and

  entered a large cavern. Straight in front of him, barely visible by a dim light, tunnels splintered off in different directions. He took the third one to the right and ran down it and then took

  another one to the left. He squeezed into a crack behind a rock

  and waited.

  Silence; there was complete silence. All he could hear was

  the pounding of his heart as he listened, turning his ears ever so slightly. After a few minutes, he peeked his head out. He waited a few more minutes and, thinking it was clear, squeezed out of his hiding place and backtracked to the entrance. Caboose walked

  around the corner and ran right into the beast. He bellowed,

  knocked it up against the wal , and turned to run, but it grabbed his neck causing all of his muscles to freeze instantly—a death

  freeze, col apsing him to the ground in shock.

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  The beast closed over him, and just when he thought he was

  going to die, a strong masculine voice whispered, “Caboose, be

  quiet, you don’t want to wake the crawler.”

  Still in shock and with both eyes closed, he peeped one open

  and gaped, “Who are you? Please don’t eat me.”

  “My name is Urium. And who I am, is not important right

  now. I have to get you out of here.”

  “Why? It’s cold and dark outside and I have nowhere to go.

  And how do you know my name?”

  “Caboose, this cave is a crawler’s den. If he awakes and smel s

  you in his cave,” Urium stopped and reconsidered what he almost

  said, “It won’t be good.”

  Deep within the cave, a low-jackaled voice reverberated:

  “Sticky fingers, sticky toes,

  My nose is a great hunter

  And it smel s a grunter.”

  “Hurry Caboose, you have to hurry.” Urium helped Caboose

  to his feet and then ran for the entrance.

  “What’s a crawler?” he asked, running briskly.

  “Quick, I don’t have time to explain. You have to get out of

  this cave, now!”

  Urium tried to lead Caboose out of the cave but Caboose

  struggled to keep up.

  “Caboose, you must run faster. He’s coming. I can hear him

  coming.”

  “I’m going as fast as I can. I have a short leg and I—”

  “Hurry Caboose, you must hurry.” Urium realizing he wasn’t

  going to make it stopped and spun around. “It’s too late, he’s

  going to catch you, here, take this.”

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  Urium tossed a small red engraved bottle through the air.

  Caboose reached up, barely catching it before it fell into a pool of water.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s crushed dragon bones.”

  Caboose grimaced and looked at the bottle confused.

  “Blinding dust,” shouted Urium. “Throw it in his eyes. It will

  blind him for a few minutes and give you time to escape.”

  They ran out of the tunnel and back into the cavern. Caboose

  rounded the corner and slammed into the cave wal . With panic

  setting in, Caboose yelled, “Which way?”

  “This way, hurry.”

  Caboose dropped to all fours and fell into a gallop. Urium

  ran so effortlessly through the dark Caboose thought for sure he must be a humanoid like himself.

  Caboose felt a cold rush of wind dart over him but he dare not

  break pace to venture a look. Along the ceiling the crawler pricked.

  Silently getting ahead of him, it dropped on top of him knocking him to the ground. Caboose rolled across the ground and smashed

  against a stalagmite toppling it over—he rolled out of the way right before impact and jumped back to his feet. The crash reverberated off the wal s causing everyone to pause and cringe.

  “Go back Caboose, you have to stay alive,” yelled Urium.

  The crawler laughed hideously:

  “You can run, and you can hide,

  but come morn, I’ll be eating your insides.”

  Caboose knew he couldn’t out-run the beast so he scooped

  up a hand full of rocks and threw them at it. Unscathed, it hopped around and swung one of its legs knocking Caboose into the wal .

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  Dazed and confused, he pounced back to his feet driven solely by adrenaline and pulled the cork from the bottle of blinding dust.

  Inexperienced in combat, he threw it without so much as a fake

  or any type of diversion. The crawler, cunning and alert, dunked right before impact, but luckily for Caboose, the bottle broke on the ceiling, spraying dust back into its eyes. Blind, the crawler swung furiously, shattering everything in its reckless attempt to locate Caboose. Up ahead, Caboose saw small rays il uminating

  the cave entrance. Caboose dropped to all fours and plowed into

  the crawler knocking it upside down as he made a mad-dash for

  the entrance.

  The smell of damp mildew and limestone slowly changed to

  a faint, hot sulfur dioxide as Caboose approached the entrance.

  With the opening in sight, Caboose yelled, “I can make it, I can make it.” The crawler flipped over and hurried to cut him off as its dark-yellow, blood-shot eyes tried to focus.

  Behind him the crawler spewed a ball of webbing from its

  mouth. The webbing clawed through the air closing the entrance

  as Caboose raced out of the cave. Once out of the cave, he ran

  for several yards and then wandered off the trail and stepped

  right onto a patch of smel y grass. It grabbed his foot, wrapped up his leg and around his body, pulling him tightly into its clutch.

  Caboose struggled, thrashing his body back and forth to get out, but the more he struggled, the tighter its strings lynched him in.

  The crawler crashed through the webbing and started toward

  Caboose. This was it. He would never see home again. Caboose

  was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. He

  pulled and jerked at the strings but couldn’t break their grasp.

  The beast, with its eyes still hurting and blood-shot from the

  blinding dust, walked over to Caboose and gloated, “Fool! No one escapes me. I told you, come morn, I will be eating your insides.”

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  Caboose shook with fear. He closed his eyes and waited

  for the kiss of death. The crawler’s legs, prickly and hairy, crept eerily over him. Slimy mucus dripped from its mouth, covering

  Caboose in murky brown saliva.

  “Please don’t eat me. I’m not supposed to be here,” pleaded

  Caboose, shaking uncontrol ably with the rush of adrenaline still flushing through his veins.

  The crawler opened its mouth. Venom-dripping fangs

  unsheathed and sparkled in the moonlight as it lowered its head.

  From the darkness, faint tremors resounded. With the earthly

  sounds growing louder, from the twilight, a large Magondrea

  appeared with its jaws wide open. It grabbed the crawler and flung it against the cliff wal . The Magondrea raised its head and roared.

  Caboose, with his eyes still closed, screamed.

  Urium ran over and poured water from the dead sea on the

  smel y grass, drying it up, freeing Caboose. Caboose opened his

  eyes, bewildered. He reached down and broke off the remaining

  dried-up strings and jumped to the ground.

  “Run for the hil s Caboose.” The Magondrea is deadlier than

  the crawler.”

  The crawler scrambled up the side of the cliff and spewed

  webbing all over the Magondrea. It jumped on its back and bit the large beast repeatedly with its fangs. The Magondrea, immune to

  the venom, shook the crawler off and knocked it back with its tail.

  The crawler flipped over and lunged back and forth, snapping

  its upper fangs against its lower fangs, making a loud chopping

  sound. It then made a mad dash back to the cave trying to escape.

  The Magondrea chased it down from behind pinning the crawler

  to the ground. The Magondrea bit it on the back of its head, and with its front arms, tore it apart.

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  Caboose ran back to the trail and continuing to follow the rid-

  geline. His tender, charred feet seemed to be working just fine—it’s amazing how much pain the body can endure when the stakes are

  high. Behind him he could hear and feel the vibrations from the

  Magondrea tracking him. Caboose was not sure where the beast

  was and couldn’t see very well in the darkness. He rounded a bend and followed a cross cut up into a small draw. The Magondrea