by Jeff Gunzel
Up from the dark cracks rose a number of stone walls, each corner connected with one another. They rose up with a grinding sound, sand sifting down off the tops of the towering structures. Then, the vibrations stopped so suddenly, it was as if no disturbance had ever taken place. Sudden calm. He got to his feet and spun about, gazing up at the stone walls that formed into a sort of hallway. He could still see the moon high up above. It provided just enough light that he could navigate this hallway.
Although nowhere near as confined as the casket, it was still plenty restricting, and he wanted out. “By the gods, what sort of test is this?” he grumbled before heading off. The hall steered him south for a ways before running into a cross section. He could go left or right, then be forced to choose again. “Alright then, I’ll play your twisted game. But once I get out of here, I promise you will play my game, Verck,” he growled.
He studied the stone wall and found it to be particularly rigid. I need to get a better view before I go any further. Who knows where they are trying to lead me? The nimble assassin scaled the wall with relative ease. Throwing his leg over the top, he stared out breathlessly over the moonlit scene. Just as he feared, the risen walls had strung themselves into a twisting, turning maze. It went on as far as the eye could see with no end in sight. Very well then, I’ll find a way through this. No child’s puzzle is going to keep me from killing you.
After a time, he settled on a general direction then climbed back down. At the next cross section he turned left, all the while sliding his hand along the right wall. He figured that as long as he kept his hand on the wall and never removed it, eventually he would find his way out. The walls had to be joined somewhere, after all, and eventually he would find the end.
Suddenly, a slight vibration in the wall gave him just enough warning, a subtle hint that something was wrong. At the last second, he pulled his hand back before an infinite number of long, thin barbs sprang from the stone with a collective hiss. Had he not moved when he did, his hand would surely have been mangled beyond use. With another soft, hissing sound like steam escaping a pot, the spines sank back into the wall.
Azek glanced at his own hand and shivered. It was a miracle it was still attached to his arm. He drew both his swords and continued on, scraping each blade across opposite walls as he walked. He would have to pay special attention to his positioning from this point forward, making sure not to touch either wall.
The corridors were dark, making it difficult to see. The ever-present dank, musty scent seemed to rise right up from the ground. There was always a constant breeze in his face, no matter which path he chose. The scraping sound of his swords against the walls seemed incredibly loud in this confined area. Constantly announcing his whereabouts with the grinding noise made the stealthy assassin nervous, but it was a necessary evil. He didn’t dare lose track of his spacing, and make the mistake of touching either wall. He turned at the next corridor and stopped.
The ground up ahead gradually changed from the loose sand he had been walking on into a soft mud. The mud itself seemed to give off a light, misty fog that distorted his vision. Thick brown and green vines lined the walls, giving this corridor the appearance of a swamp. Twisting and turning, they snaked up and over the tops of the walls. Luckily, the path was wider here, so Azek didn’t feel the need to keep probing the walls with his blades, but he kept them in hand anyway.
When he took a probing step forward, his foot sank down into the soft combination of mud and moss. The ground itself seemed to give off a swampy scent, a pungent combination of sulfur and decaying vegetation. As he moved deeper into the corridor, his vision became increasingly hindered. As the fog grew thicker, it burned his eyes and throat, causing him to cough incessantly. It got so bad that he sheathed his blades so he could rub his eyes, trying to alleviate the irritation. This gas is choking the life from me. I must get through this as fast as possible.
Nearly blind, he kept rubbing his face on the fabric of his cloak, but his movement was becoming increasingly difficult. With each step his feet sank deeper, and pulling them free took a surprising amount of effort. When one foot came free with wet slurp, the other sank deeper. It was as if the swampy ground were trying to pull him under.
The burning in his eyes grew even more intense. He wiped them feverishly while blindly stumbling through the fog. His palms grew moist, and he could only assume it was from his own watering eyes, but when he glanced down through his blurred vision, it was not the moisture of tears he saw. Red streaks stained his hands. He blinked incessantly, trying to focus on what couldn’t possibly be real–what he must be imagining.
His chest heaved and he coughed into his hands again, feeling the warm spray of moisture spatter against his palms. Stiff, poking legs skittered across his fingers, prompting him to reflexively shake his hands. Large black beetles flew into the air along with a generous spray of blood.
“No,” he whispered, refusing to believe what he had just seen. “That’s impossible. None of this is rea—” His own words were choked off by another fit of coughing. He watched in horror as blood and more beetles expelled from his lungs, spraying against his hands. The lively insects stuck to his fingers, legs kicking in the air. Others landed on the ground and skittered away.
His teary eyes burned worse than ever and his feet were now sinking up to his ankles with each forced step. Using the fabric of his cloak to rub his eyes, he could feel a sticky paste smearing across his face. Glancing at his cloak, he saw tiny maggots wriggling in a white paste of smashed ones. Horrified, he opened his mouth to scream, but the only thing that spewed from his mouth was another spray of blood and even more beetles.
It’s the smog. It’s driving me mad! I must push through it if there is any hope of leaving this place! Of course, he had no idea what was causing any of this, but it was a thought he could wrap his head around. A single point of focus that would give him reason to push forward, and not succumb to this black magic. Trying to take another step, his foot clung to the mud so tightly he fell forward. Ripping it free, he crawled along on his hands and knees. With his weight more evenly distributed, he found he was actually moving faster this way.
Crawling through the muddy swamp, he struggled to get air. He could feel the hundreds of tiny legs tickling the inside of his throat as the beetles partially blocked his airway. Another harsh cough sent more of them flying from his mouth in a thick projectile of blood. He was nearly blind now. There were so many maggots packed under his eyelids, his vision was almost zero. All he could do was crawl straight ahead and hope he wasn’t going the wrong way.
He rubbed his eyes again, smearing more maggots across his face. But that last effort gave him a glimpse before more formed underneath his eyelids. The fog looked to be clearing ahead. He crawled faster, but brushed up against one of the thick vines on the side of the wall. The vine released its thin, hair-like barbs into his side. Fiery pain shot through him as if being slapped in the side with a cactus. Trying to ignore the pain, he scrambled forward with all his remaining strength.
The inside of his lungs prickled with even more beetles as they made their way up. With each labored breath he forced air in through the obstructions, then blasted out another spray of blood and insects. His body didn’t even feel real anymore, like he was on the outside watching the suffering of another man.
Finally, he broke through the fog. Immediately, he could feel his body begin to cool. The maggots squirming from his eyes dried to dust, then sifted away from his face as if blown by a breeze. The tickling legs flittering through his lungs and throat subsided, and his breathing began to return to normal. He collapsed onto the stone floor, determined to lie here a moment and collect his thoughts. To try and push away the hellish experience. There was no sense in trying to reason out what had just happened. The only thing to do was to appreciate that the living nightmare had finally ended. At least for now...
* * *
Keeping their eyes on the rooftops, the two mercenaries guided Ann
a along, giving her a shove each time she dragged her feet. The streets were quiet now, but there were still a few people pushing wheelbarrows, hauling away the dead. Anna saw one body on a rope being lowered from a nearby rooftop. Only a few days ago she might have gotten sick at the sight, and certainly would have averted her eyes. But she was not that person anymore. Too much had happened, and she knew she would never be the same.
She watched as the body lowered in fits and jerks, the arms flailing about like a stringed puppet with each bounce of the rope. Yet she felt no horror, or pity, just an odd sense of satisfaction while watching the morbid scene. The young man most certainly had a name, and possibly a family to go home to, but that wasn’t what she saw when she watched him. He was just a number. Another life taken by the Shadow. Strange, how a single life could seem so meaningless in times like these.
Another turn down a dark alley and they were standing before a black wooden door. Jayden knocked lightly, as if unsure he even wanted anyone to answer. A slotted segment near the top of the door slid open with a hissing snap. A pair of eyes peeked down at the three of them. “Tell him she’s here,” said the short man, looking up and tapping his toe impatiently. The eyes blinked a few times, then the segment of door snapped shut again. “I’m going back to my post,” he said, looking at Jayden. “I assume you can handle it from here?”
Jayden flashed a cold look at Anna before answering. “Sure, get out of here. Go help the others find that dirt bag.” The short man nodded then scampered off.
“You don’t have to do this,” said Anna, her voice quivering. Some of that fear she though had been conquered was beginning to return.
“Oh, no?” Jaden replied, wearing a sarcastic smirk. “Maybe I should just let you go free? I’ll sit Arkare down and explain to him rationally how the girl somehow slipped from my grasp. That ought to go rather smoothly.”
“Then perhaps I’ll tell him about our little deal,” Anna snarled, just trying to grasp at something. Trying to regain any kind of leverage. “Once he finds out you bargained with me—”
“What, that I fed you?” Jayden shrugged. “Do you plan to cut open your stomach so you can prove it? Don’t you get it, whore? The rules have changed, and whatever small advantage you think you had is now gone. You’re smart, and you play your cards well, but ultimately the best you can hope for is delaying the inevitable.” His sudden grin sent shivers down her spine. “You don’t even know where we are, do you?”
They heard the sound of a heavy bolt snapping open from the other side, then the door swung inward. It was not flimsy wood as it had first appeared, but only had a wooden casing. The door itself was made out of some sort of metal alloy, and sounded as much when it tapped against the inner wall. A hunched man with a tattered brown robe motioned for them to enter. He peeked outside to make sure no one else was there, then set about closing the heavy door. It seemed to take all his strength, but he eventually managed it with a clang.
“He’ll be in shortly,” said the broken man, peeking at them sideways with his head tilted. His nose was abnormally large and one eye was completely frosted over. Uncomfortable from the sight of this wretch, Anna quickly shifted her attention elsewhere.
The floor was covered with black pelts stitched together, most likely bear. It was so thick, her feet seemed to sink in where she stood. Numerous thick candles were spread throughout the room, many the width of a man’s leg. Collectively, their flickering light did a marvelous job at illuminating the area, but one in particular caught her attention: a human skull with the scalp removed and a candle inserted within. The dancing light made the sockets light up, almost making them appear to blink. Several smoking incense gave off a strong, spicy scent. Anna needed to cover her mouth in order to not cough.
The side door opened and in strolled Arkare. Despite the recent chaos ravaging his town, and possibly even posing a threat to his command, the giant seemed calm. Relaxed, even. He was wearing his custom black armor with the shark-fin blades riding up his wrists and back. His ice-blue eyes seemed to blend in with his pale, ghost-like face. A trick of the candlelight? He smiled at Anna, showing off his fangs. They sparkled a deep golden color in the candlelit room.
“Welcome, Lady Drine,” he said, his soft voice nearing that musical tone he was known for. Jayden pushed Anna forward, forcing her to nearly run into him. She promptly retreated back a few steps. “Few people have ever seen the inside of these walls. Even fewer lived to tell of their experience. You should feel honored, Ms. Drine.”
“And why should I be honored to stand in your dungeon of a home?” asked Anna, her voice trembling. Hearing the shakiness of her own voice made her feel foolish, but she continued on anyway. “Being reunited with my family will make me feel honored. Watching you hang from a rope will make me feel honored. Watching the crows pluck your eyes from—”
“Yes, yes,” Arkare interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I suppose you would also love to see me disemboweled, beheaded, and flayed. Presumably one at a time. Now then, back to business, shall we?”
“You speak as if we are partners,” said Anna, still trying to steady her voice. “The only business you and I have will be concluded once I’m safe at home, and you’ve collected your coin like a beggar.”
“And that’s precisely what we need to discuss,” Arkare replied. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that our friend has been causing me a fair amount of trouble recently. I admit that my men have had difficulty locating him. And those that have found him...appear to no longer be amongst my ranks.”
“And whose fault is that?” Anna replied. “All you had to do was meet his demands, which were more than reasonable. You could have saved yourself—”
“And all he had to do was not bring you here in the first place,” Arkare interrupted. “You were captured, then brought here against your will. Correct?” She started to argue, but he continued on without giving her a chance to answer. “So let’s remember why you are here in the first place. Don’t blame me for taking advantage of an opportunity that fell right into my lap. Few would have said ‘no’ at the chance of so much coin. I know he didn’t.”
Arkare took a deep breath. “Which now brings me to our current dilemma that must be addressed promptly. Up until now the price for your pretty little head could still somewhat justify the trouble you’ve caused me. I’m afraid that is no longer the case. Several of my men have already died. Men that cannot be so easily replaced. My reputation has been tainted, and yet we still cannot find him. Who knows how many more will fall before justice prevails and his head is hanging from my door?”
Anna swallowed, sensing the giant’s mounting frustration. “You could always let me go,” she offered, trying to think on her feet. “I’m sure once I’ve left, your troubles will leave as well. No doubt he will have no reason to stay, causing you trouble, if I’m already gone.”
“Well, I’m afraid it’s no longer that simple,” growled Arkare. “I rejected his offer in front of the whole town, and now it’s become personal. He won’t stop until he finds me, and I don’t think releasing you will do anything to change that. No, I’m stuck with you now. A burden hung round my neck that I can no longer be rid of. Eventually, I’ll collect whatever ransom you’re still worth, but there is no longer any possibility it will cover my loses. So, the question now becomes...what to do with you?”
Jayden stepped around Anna and approached Arkare. The giant leaned to the side as Jayden whispered in his ear. Arkare’s expression changed little, but his ice-blue eyes bore into Anna like spears. When he was done, Jayden walked away casually and leaned against the side wall, his arms folded over his chest. He gazed around the room lethargically, as if none of this interested him any longer. Arkare gestured, beckoning Anna to have a seat at the table in the corner. Not seeing much choice, she did so reluctantly.
Arkare slipped into a seat across from her and reached across the table, opening his hands and waiting expectantly. She gazed into those icy eyes reflecting the
lifeless stare of a dead man, then reluctantly placed her hands into his. He held her hands firmly and whispered, “I wish you and your dog had never come to this place. Not killing both of you the first day was a mistake I will never live down.” His grip moved up and he squeezed her wrists, pulling her toward him.
“You’re hurting me,” she gasped, trying to pull away. His grip was like an iron vise, and her hands didn’t budge.
Arkare laughed at the absurdity of her statement. A private joke she was soon to be let in on. She heard a similar mocking laughter from behind as Jayden moved to her back. He was hurting her? What did this privileged girl know of pain? “Did you hear that, Jayden?” said Arkare, gripping her wrists tighter and lifting her from the seat. “She says I’m hurting her.”
Anna felt the back of her dress rise. A sudden coolness blew against the back of her sweaty legs. She kicked backward like a mule, the bottom of her foot connecting with Jayden’s thigh. Angered, he gripped her hips and drove her forward. Her midsection rammed into the edge of the table, knocking the air from her lungs. She felt her small clothes slide down past her knees, and looked pleadingly into Arkare’s eyes. “Please, no,” she whispered, her soft voice barely audible. She felt helpless, completely at the mercy of this madman. With panic rising up to new heights, she began to grovel as if her very life depended on it. “Please, don’t let him touch me. Keep him away! I’ll–I’ll do anything you ask.”
“Shh. Of course you will, my dear,” Arkare whispered back. “You will do anything I ask, whenever I ask, because you are my property. You gave up all your privileges the day you set foot in my town.”
Anna felt Jayden’s hand slide up the inside of her leg. She clenched her thighs together with all her might, but his hand still managed to wiggle through. She gasped when his fingers penetrated her harshly. He was anything but gentle, pushing so deep her feet lifted from the floor. Part of her prayed that they were just trying to scare her, that she would be released at any moment, and the two of them would just laugh at her. They would leave the room and this harsh lesson would come to an end. If that happens, I swear I will be obedient from now on. I will do whatever they ask of me without question. Please don’t let this be real! I swear I will—