by Wade Adrian
It began to feel like some kind of silly mythical punishment. Climb the wall only to fall again and again. He understood why, of course. It was dark, he couldn’t see well, and the walls were just slick enough to be difficult to keep a hold of. It should still be possible, though.
Theoretically.
His backside was starting to hurt from all the poor landings, though. When he started to feel his grip slipping he turned and leapt down instead, landing on his feet and rolling onto his shoulder. Saved him new bruises, though his feet where unhappy about it.
He sat a moment while he caught his breath, rubbing at his temples, fingertips bumping against the crown still sitting on his head. “Get up. Get up. Come on. You can do this.”
A low rumbling surrounded him.
His heart skipped a beat as he wondered if the cave floor he sat on was as thin and weak as the bottom of the well had been before it caved into here. Maybe all his falling had knocked the rocks loose, and an even deeper darker pit awaited…
Nothing. The rumbling stopped.
He stood again, shifting his weight carefully as he wandered back to the rock face. Not wanting to wait around just made him all the more determined. Eventually all this determination should stack high enough for him to climb out on it.
A few more strange rumbles and scrapes sounded as he climbed, but none of it was caused by the rocks he had a hold of, so it didn’t matter. This was it. This was the time. He was going to make it out.
At this point, he’d be happy to sleep in the crummy house. It looked like a mansion by comparison.
A rock that had been steady and stable all this time shifted in his hand. He barely had time to bite off a curse before it pulled loose of the wall.
No careful landing this time. He let out a sigh as he sat up.
It took a few seconds for his mind to register what he saw.
The cave was packed with skeletons. Not proper upstanding skeletons that laid on the ground after predators had picked the bones clean, but dastardly upstanding skeletons that were literally standing up. People skeletons at that.
Each and every one was looking at him. Skulls with hollow eye sockets pointed straight at him. Fifty of them if there was five.
He tilted his head slightly as he stared right back.
Huh.
A scream erupted from his throat as he spun and lashed his hands at the rock face. He was going to make it out this time, absolutely. Determination be damned, he didn’t need it when fear was driving.
His fingers and the toes of his boots found sure spots as he flew up the wall to the greatest height he had reached yet. A glance back over his shoulder showed all the blank stares following him.
He just reached the bottom of the well shaft and grabbed hold of it when he slipped again.
Well, he hadn’t been at his best, really. Probably taking too many risks.
On the other hand, standing skeletons. Skeletons that were watching him.
He hit the ground with a thud but there was no time to lie about feeling pain or sorry for himself. He screamed and scrambled away on all fours, ending up against the rock face, curled up into a ball.
Maybe they’d go away. If he ignored them, they’d get bored and leave. Or something.
It was entirely possible that his grip on sanity was slipping. Then again, he was seeing skeletons, so that ship might have already sailed.
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, all curled up. Time was hard to judge beyond the blood thumping in his ears as his heart raced. He didn’t dare look. They might still be there.
Then again, it might be worse if they weren’t… that would mean he had dreamt them up. He didn’t want to be crazy, which made him pretty sure he wasn’t crazy, so maybe it had just been caused by smacking his head on the ground… repeatedly.
“Hey.”
Cecil’s eyes opened a crack. All he could see was darkness. The voice was unfamiliar… but maybe someone had found him down here after all?
He craned his neck a little, removing his head from the protective cocoon that was the rest of him.
There was a skeleton standing there. Only a few feet away. It was looking down at him. Red points of light danced in its otherwise empty eye sockets.
It waved. “Hi.”
Cecil screamed and resumed the ball of safety maneuver.
“Okay, first thing. Can you stop screaming, please? Kind of a confined space. Really loud.”
Cecil lifted an elbow to look up at the skeleton without compromising the integrity of his safety shell.
It was still there.
“Get that out of your system?”
Cecil’s throat was rather… sprained. “You’re not going to kill me?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, no. Why, do you want me to?”
Cecil shook his head. “No.”
“Then no. I’m not going to kill you.”
Cecil turned his head inside the shell, looking out at the other skeletons. Most of them were seated or wandering about aimlessly. “Did I go crazy?”
“I’m not really qualified to comment on that one, boss.”
“Are… they going to kill me?”
“I mean, I’m not psychic or anything, but I doubt it.”
Cecil slowly sat up, his eyes sweeping the cave and its… occupants. “Okay, I’m confused.”
“Hi confused, I’m Murray.”
6
“Ugh. Wow. Really?” This was a dream. It had to be a dream. A bad dream. He’d knocked himself silly on a rock, he was sure of it.
The skeleton shrugged.
“It’s Cecil, by the way.”
“Cesspool? I like it. Excellent name for a Dark Lord. I mean, it’s not what I would have gone with, not all that intimidating really, but it has a sort of… icky quality to it. Like you wouldn’t want to touch it, it might stain your boots.”
Cecil stared for a few moments.
He must have hit his head very hard.
“No, Cecil. Sess-ul.”
Murray tapped a finger bone against his jaw. “Not exactly a Dark Lord sounding name, but who am I to judge? Kind of makes sense too, given I’m not getting a super-prepared-for-this vibe off of you.”
“Prepared? For what?”
Murray’s shoulders slumped. “Suspicions confirmed. Ugh. Okay, so, super simple version? You, my diminutive and unassuming friend, are, get this,” his voice got louder with each word, “the new… Dark… Lord!” The skeleton held his hands high, his eyes turned cave ceiling-ward. After a moment he looked back down at Cecil. “Congratulations. Feel free to make up business cards and banners to that effect. I used to know a guy who did stationary, but given how I look, he’s probably dead.”
He’d hit his head very, very hard. There might be permanent damage. “I’m a farmer. And not even a very good farmer. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Well maybe you’ll be a better Dark Lord, hmm?” The skeleton shrugged. “Though I’m kind of doubting it, given what I’m seeing here.” It pointed a bony finger at Cecil… or just behind him.
He turned to see the crown that had fallen off his head.
“That oh so trendy bauble is the Crown of Command. A relic of a bygone age, even in my time, which is probably a bygone age to you. It allows the wearer to compel the dead to follow their commands.” Murray hooked a bony thumb over his shoulder. “You told us to get up. We got up.”
“I… think I was telling me to get up.”
“Well, for future reference, if you say something command-like with the crown on, they’ll do it. At least to the best of their ability. In fact they’ll try to do it even if you don’t have it on, but for that they’ve got to be close enough to hear you, and then free will can muck things up because they’re getting the words and not the intent.”
The crown scraped across the stone floor as Cecil picked it up. “You seem to know a lot about this.”
“Well, the down side here is… if you put it on and use it, which you
already did by the way, you’re part of it. I am the last guy that had it.” Murray pointed at himself. “At least, that I know of.” He leaned a little closer to Cecil, looking at the crown. “And that still seems to be the case. Unfortunately my reign as Dark Lord was a short one. Not long after I found the thing both it and I were buried alive by people that wanted to ensure it wasn’t found by anyone. I tried to get my minions to dig, but most had been crushed. Those that could dig did so, but not fast enough. Last thing I remember I was stuck under a rock. Now I’m talking to a farmer who seems to have put a lot less thought and effort into this.”
“That’s certainly true.” Cecil nodded.
A sigh escaped the skeleton. “I spent years trying to find this place only for it to cave in around me. How did you get here?”
Cecil looked up at the well overhead. “I fell.”
“You… fell. You fell down a hole.”
“It’s a well, actually.”
“Oh, my mistake. That’s much more prestigious. I’m sure tales will be sung of this glorious day.”
If what Murray was saying was true… these were Cecil’s skeletons. And they couldn’t hurt him. Well, not unless he ordered them to. And yet… Reginald had been tripping all over himself to please Lord Thorn. He glanced up at Murray. This wasn’t the least bit similar. “You’re not exactly treating me like a lord, dark or otherwise.”
“Yeah, well, like I said free will is a thing. Not many of us are so… willful, I guess. Only those that once wore the crown. The rest are just this side of mindless, raised to do your bidding. Or I can order them around if you like, they still listen.”
Cecil looked up at the well overhead. “Don’t suppose they can dig us out a bit better this time?”
“They probably can, yes. Not terribly efficiently without tools, but you’re presently at the bottom of a pit. What use is digging? Can’t dig up.”
He had a point… but they could dig sideways. This was a hill after all. Assuming they could move the rocks aside, or dig around them… “They can dig up at an angle.” He held up his arm out straight, then angled up a skosh. “Like so.”
“I suppose. Might work. Unless they hit water. Which is likely, seeing as you fell down a well.”
“This is actually a hill. I don’t think we’re far enough down to be under the ground-ground yet. Should just be a matter of finding the side.” He plopped the crown on his head. “Ahem. Skeletons? Dig us out, if you’d be so kind.”
Skeletons across the cave turned and started scratching at the walls. Some dug up, others down, some straight out. He considered putting them all in one spot, but most of them might just be slapping their bony fingers against stone. This way there was a chance one of them would find a softer dirt to dig through.
He pointed at Murray, who was walking away. “Wait, not you.”
The skeleton stopped. “Oh, good. Thanks. Murder on my manicure.”
Cecil removed the crown once more. It all felt like a strange dream… more or less confirming in his mind that he had managed to knock himself out in one of the falls. No telling which one. And yet he still felt exhausted, as if he had been climbing. Could one be exhausted in a dream?
He moved to sit with his back against the stone wall, Murray wandering close behind. His feet clicked on the floor, but at least he was company… of a sort.
“How long do you think this is going to take?”
“I dunno. Hours?”
Cecil sighed. “Great. Hopefully before I starve.”
“No worries there. You’ll die from thirst long before that.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No problem, boss.”
“Well, I’m going to sit here and nurse some new bruises while I try to wake up from this nightmare. Let me know if they find a way out, yeah?”
“As long as I don’t have to dig.”
“Deal.”
“Done.” Murray wandered off, watching the other skeleton’s dig as he paced around the cavern. The entire scene was bonkers in every possible way, aside from the skeletons standing on the ceiling or something, but it was still pretty bonkers.
Cecil had heard talk of pain not being a thing in dreams, and if caught up in one, a person only needed to realize that to escape. He pinched his arm slightly…
Nope. Still skeletons.
Okay. He pinched himself hard.
It definitely hurt… but there were still skeletons.
He snatched up a loose rock and smacked himself upside the head.
“Umm… boss?”
Cecil looked up at Murray. “Cecil is fine.”
“Right, Cecil. What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to wake myself up.”
“Uh-huh.” Murray tilted his skull. “Problem is, you’re not asleep.”
“Sure I am. This is nuts. I’m talking to a skeleton.”
“You’re talking to a skeleton that used to be a person named Murray. A person who died trying to find the Crown of Command for the sake of opposing a growing empire of-”
“Yeah, yeah. Got that.” Cecil hit himself with the rock again.
Murray knelt down in front of him. “Okay. I have good news, and I have bad news. Which do you want first?”
“I dunno. Bad, I guess. Get it out of the way and all.”
Murray slapped his bony hand across Cecil’s face. It stung. Probably left a red mark.
Cecil stared up at him. “Wait… all of this is… real?”
“Real as a heart attack, boss. Truth is stranger than fiction.”
“I…” Cecil stammered, his cheek throbbing. That hit might have knocked a tooth loose. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am.” Murray nodded. “Dead serious.” He waited a moment. “Eh? Get it?”
The cave seemed to be getting darker… and fuzzy around the edges. Cecil felt an uncontrollable urge to take a nap as he slumped over onto his side.
As the last light faded from the room all he could hear was Murray. “Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
Water splashed around Cecil, shocking him awake. Had he dreamt it all as he fell, only just hitting the bottom of the well?
He swung his arms about, trying desperately to swim. He should have payed more attention that summer at the lake when he was ten.
Fortunately it didn’t matter. He was on dry land, his arms and legs flailing in the air.
Unfortunately when he opened his eyes he saw a skeleton standing over him.
He screamed.
The red lights in the skull’s eye sockets stared down at him for a moment. “Wow. That hurts. Gets me right here.” Murray tapped a bony finger against his breastbone. “I really thought we were beyond this.”
Cecil stared. “It wasn’t a dream?”
“That depends. Some people dream of power and glory.” He tossed a bucket aside. It made a dull thunk as it his the floor. “Others fall down wells and put strange crowns on their heads, then scream at power and glory.”
Cecil watched the bucket bounce. It was the one he had hit on the way down.
So, he was still here…
“I’m afraid you didn’t get as much sleep as you might want, boss.” Murray held out his bony hand.
Cecil stared at it for a moment. Would it come off if he grabbed it? That would be weird. And probably embarrassing for Murray. And him. Both.
Murray shook the outstretched hand. “And sorry I had to wake you like that, but you need to handle this situation before it gets any worse.”
Cecil took Murray’s hand. The skeleton hauled him to his feet with the strength of a full grown man. A large man. “Umm, situation? What?”
Murray sighed, somehow, and picked up the crown before shoving it into Cecil’s hands. “Put this on, tell them to stop digging.”
“Stop… digging. Right. Umm, why?”
Murray shook his skull and yanked on Cecil’s arm, dragging him across the room. “Well, you see, this isn’t a cave, as such.”
Cecil’s bleary e
yes and groggy brain were only just figuring out he could see quite clearly. There was plenty of light. The crown in his hands was some sort of shiny black metal. The red gems set in it were glowing with their own faint internal light. All but one of them. The others must be cut to make light bounce around inside them. Maybe that one was faulty.
Murray stopped at a bright hole in the wall. It hurt Cecil’s eyes just to stand there.
They had done some serious digging. It was a big hole.
He plopped the crown on his head to free his hands and rubbed at his eyes.
It wasn’t a hole.
It was a window. The room was lined with them. A giant window that stretched from the stone ceiling above to the stone floor below his feet. Both were worked over with intricate patterns.
He could see the countryside beyond. The sun was just beginning to rise, hitting him right in the face.
“Yeah, so…” Murray shrugged and pointed down. “You woke up a few more skeletons than you realized. Other rooms and such. And they’re still digging. Like I said. Telling them to stop is probably wise before they uproot this place from the foundation.”
7
Cecil held onto the side of the window as he leaned out a little.
He was nowhere near the ground. It looked like most of the hill was gone. No, that wasn’t right. Most of the hill was still right here and he was standing in it. The top layer of dirt and rock had been shoved aside to reveal the building.
The tower.
“Wow.” Cecil blinked down at the ground.
Murray’s bony hand grabbed hold of him. “Okay, chief. Let’s not go looking for the next Dark Lord just yet, eh? Also, they’re still digging.”
“Right. Right.” Cecil leaned back into the room at the top of the tower and adjusted the crown on his head to make it more comfortable. “Okay, skeletons? This is Cecil. If you can hear this, please stop digging.”
The lights in Murray’s eye sockets rolled around a bit. “Simple orders are better, boss. ‘Stop digging,’ is more than sufficient.”
“Right. Sorry. Stop digging.” Cecil could hear a distant rumbling fade away to nothing. His mind filled with visions of skeletons standing around at the base of the tower idly. It was mildly disturbing. “Just uh… take a break or something.”