The Nightmare Game

by Martin, S. Suzanne

  My brain switched into overdrive and went, as it often does in times of extreme trauma, into slow motion. Something in me remembered seeing videos of parachutists free falling, so I put out my arms and legs to catch an updraft. It worked, although not as well as if I’d been wearing garments meant to catch the wind. At least I wasn’t plummeting any longer; I was, instead, almost floating. I felt relief for a fraction of a second, but only for a fraction of a second. Unlike those jumpers, I didn’t have a parachute, so I wasn’t really free falling, just dropping to my death a slower rate.

  Had I had a parachute, I would, perhaps, have marveled at the beautiful sunset with its fabulous oranges and pinks, purples and blues that were reflecting so perfectly upon the sea and at the white caps of the water’s gentle waves. I would, perhaps, have appreciated the vibrant shades of green upon the earth below me.

  But I didn’t have a parachute, so I instead of beauty, I saw the earth merely as the instrument of my rapidly approaching death. My horrible falling nightmares now made real, time slowed to a crawl as wind whipped around me in the thick clouds. My own constant shrill and hopeless screams continued to assault my ears.

  I replayed my impending death over and over again in what was left of my mind. Upon impact, my internal organs would explode within my own skin, my bones would be crushed, my brain turned to mush in my own horribly broken skull, all these a prelude before being finally splattered across the landscape. Had my fall been from a shorter structure, a skyscraper or a bridge, perhaps, I would probably not have had the time to ponder these things. But the height from which I was falling was equivalent to that of being sucked out of an airplane in mid-flight, higher even. The cruelty of the decent was expanded, giving me plenty of time to run my brutal death over and over again in my mind. I wondered if anyone falling from an airliner would actually be able to stay conscious this long or if my cognizance was only one more little perk of the necklace. I’d always been told that one’s life passed before one’s eyes before death, but I didn’t find it so. While I mentally said goodbye to my family, Carolyne and my cats, for the most part I saw only the continuous loop of my death before my eyes, or at least my death as I imagined it was going to be.

  “I’m sorry, Edmond,” I apologized in my thoughts, praying that despite Arrosha’s blocking of our mental link, he could somehow still hear me. “I’ve failed you. I couldn’t help you. I am so sorry.”

  Soon the atmosphere became too dense for me to free fall any longer and I once again began to plummet. The plunge was making my brain feel as if it would, at any second now, burst into a million particles even before it struck solid earth. My rapid decent continued for far too long, yet I was in no hurry for it to be over. I was dizzy and lightheaded, the violent sickness in my stomach was unbearable, and yet my decent continued, its velocity increasing. My previous expectation of continuing Rochere’s bloody game was replaced with the anticipation of a very messy death when I finally did hit land.

  I no longer expected to hear my landing, for I now knew I’d hear nothing. At my present velocity, I presumed that my ears would be long gone before any sound could ever reach them. I now anticipated that I would, for only a split second, feel the excruciating pain of my body exploding into a thousand fragments at once upon hitting solid ground before I felt nothing at all forever.

  I was now just below the clouds, fighting hard for every breath I took. The air was passing me by so rapidly that I couldn’t catch my breath; either that or my lungs were being compressed by the air pressure. I didn’t know which, but I thanked God for his mercy as darkness descended upon me and I finally began to pass out as the green, green ground rose up at record speeds to meet my fragile body, soon to splatter it with red, red blood. The amulet must have decided at long last that it would be more humane to allow me to slip into merciful unconsciousness in this situation, deciding not to keep me awake until the very moment I hit the ground. I supposed that even the amulet decided it would be too much for me.

  However, as I reached the verge of passing out, I heard a strange noise.

  “Whoosh, Whoosh.”

  What sound was that? A dream, perhaps, a last, final dream to calm my mind in my last, final moments?

  “Whoosh, Whoosh.”

  The sound grew louder and louder as it came closer before becoming more and more muffled as my consciousness partially slipped away. Then I felt my body hit something solid. There was no bloody death awaiting me at the ground, it seemed, for I had not hit the ground. Instead of the intense pain I’d been expecting, the “whooshing” sound had brought with it a soft and yielding surface that was yet strong and sturdy. It quickly and gently cradled me in a soft, steady embrace. I felt my swift decent being rapidly slowed, my lungs once again able to fill easily with air. As my consciousness returned, I looked up and saw the face of my rescuer. It was Ben. He had somehow defied Arrosha, acted freely on his own accord, and flown down to save me from the fate to which she had flung me. He lowered me to the ground with his strong, sturdy wings, which he had now mastered, and he placed me ever so gently upon the earth in the middle of a lush, yet strangely colorless, tropical paradise. The verdant green ground, the blue sea and the sunset sky I’d seen while falling had been, like so many things here, convincing, but not actually real.

  “Oh, Ben!” I said, crying with relief. “Thank you! Thank you! You saved me! Thank you so much!” I hugged his huge gargoyle body and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. While his skin looked like cold and rough living stone, it was actually only about as tough as leather, which allowed him to move. I studied his face and despite the deformity that Arrosha had placed up him, there was none of the ugliness that she wanted to manifest. Despite his infliction, his inherent kindness and goodness showed through, giving him, I thought, a sort of puppylike quality. When I looked into his eyes, I could see that Ben was definitely still in there, although his eyes were now soulful pools of misery, moist with tears. He croaked out harshly, “help me”.

  “I don’t know how, Ben,” I said apologetically, truly sorry that I couldn’t rescue him the way that he had rescued me.

  “Help me,” he croaked again as huge tears now rolled down his cheeks.

  “I’ll try,” I said. I didn’t know what to do, but his predicament was breaking my heart. “I’ll do my best. But I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t even know where we are.”

  He was so crestfallen at my words that I quickly added, making my words sound as cheerful as I could, for I didn’t want to let on that I was as lost and desperate as he was, “Tell you what, Ben, let’s look around and see what we can find. Maybe we’ll find a way home, okay?” I was lying, but for the time being, I needed to make him feel better.

  I knew that we were still in a part of Arrosha’s bizarre kingdom, way off the map of the real world. But my words did their job and seemed to cheer Ben up. I held out my hand and he took it in his own. It was such an odd sensation holding hands with stone-finish living leather. We began to pick our way slowly through the thick foliage. It was so quiet here as to be unnerving. Rainforests are alive with the chatter of animals, but as at the mansion, here not even the sound of a single bird could be heard. I wondered why Arrosha never allowed animals. Was it because they were simply too hard or impossible for her to manufacture? Or was it because they saw through her facade? Ironic, wasn’t it, that someone who claimed to be such a great goddess, creator of all Illeaocea, couldn’t even manage to conjure up an insect in her world. The thought brought a very brief, sardonic smile to my lips.

  We continued walking carefully though the lush landscape, which, along with little color, surprisingly also had almost no odor. Ben and I continued our journey along a path made so smooth in this overgrown rainforest that I was sure that it had to be Arrosha’s doing. She wanted us to travel this way, for she was leading us in the direction that she wanted me to go. I didn’t fight it because it was the destination at which I’d wind up eventually anyway. Besides, simply roaming seemed
to give poor Ben some temporary hope.

  After walking just a short while, Ben already needed a rest. Even though we’d both been through too much lately, Ben’s gargoyle body was constructed more for flying than for walking. I had tried to convince Ben to carry me up in the air with him, that it would be easier for both of us and that we could see much more of the terrain that way, but as hard as I tried to explain it to him, in his present state he simply wasn’t able to comprehend. We were stuck on the ground, then, where the going was tougher for us both. Other than for Ben’s comfort, it really didn’t matter in the end, however. There would be no getting out of here, at least not by any conventional method, any more than there had been from the plantation house. We were stuck in the unreal world of Arrosha’s making.

  When we came upon a large, rather flat rock, I decided that this was a good place to sit and rest. Ben was breathing hard by the time we sat down. As for myself, I knew I’d been under too much stress for too long a period of time now and I wondered how much more of it I could take before I cracked. What had passed as my “vacation” had all been vastly beyond my normal endurance level, yet I wasn’t even getting punchy. I was doing uncharacteristically well, a sign that whatever energy Edmond had managed to give me had greatly increased my normal stamina level and that the necklace amulet was apparently keeping me energetic and strong.

  I had to admit that, in spite of herself, Arrosha had played a large hand in my physical heartiness as well. The effects of the essence she supplied us had proven themselves to be more or less permanent, for despite everything, it had shown no sign of wearing off. The necklace long ago negated the water’s negative effects, but its positive effects were still with me. Arrosha hadn’t counted on these things remaining for so long. She’d given them to me only because she hadn’t thought her plan would fail this time. Even so, I expected that my being healthy and strong when she executed me would only provide the fodder she needed to make the ultimate task more enjoyable for her.

  As we sat resting upon the rock, Ben began to grow fidgety as his huge, batlike gargoyle ears perked up. In this all too quiet jungle he had heard something. I strained to listen, but things still sounded quiet to me. Then he picked up a scent and stood still, looking around to locate it. Soon, my inferior sense of smell caught the odor as well. It was the death flower scent from Arrosha’s office, gently wafting our way. As I stood up, also, I heard the sound that Ben had picked up earlier. It was an odd sound, a cracking of leaves mixed with gurgling and breathing. And it was coming toward us.

  I spotted it first. Among the colorless plants and flowers, something blue-black quivered. It shook and shivered and then began moving forward, coming toward us as it grew in a time-lapse fashion. Ben, with his poor gargoyle eyesight, spotted it after I did and he grunted with displeasure. As it continued growing, it revealed enough of itself for me to recognize it. It was the huge, leathery black plant from one of my dreams after my struggle with Arrosha in the shower vortex. It was the black flower from which Edmond had warned me to stay away.

  “Ben, let’s get out of here.” I said. We began walking away from it as fast as the underbrush would let us. “That thing’s dangerous.”

  Ben and I were too late in reacting, however. I heard a whip-like noise coming from behind us as something wrapped itself around my legs. It was a thick, black, leathery rope, the flower’s tongue emerging from its center. It pulled me off of my feet and began dragging me in the direction of the black flower. It happened so fast that Ben didn’t have time to react.

  “Ben, help me!” I screamed, vainly grabbing hold of one of the jungle floor’s vines to slow my abduction.

  He ran over as fast as he could and grabbed my arm firmly but the strength of the black tongue was so intense that it continued to inch me toward the plant that was now making gurgling, sucking noises. Its pull was unyielding and although Ben’s gargoyle muscles were extremely strong, his new hands were awkward and I slid from his grasp. The tongue now pulled me toward the flower rapidly and the vine onto which I’d been clinging with my other hand gave way and came up by its roots. Once these lifelines were gone, the tongue now rapidly yanked me up to the flower and toward its center. The thick, black petals began to close about me, working with its rope tongue to force me into itself. Catching onto one of its inner petals with both hands and hanging onto to it with all my strength in a last ditch effort to save myself as I was pulled into the flower’s center, I could feel its muscular contractions sucking me downward into it as it began to devour me.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  I dug my nails into the fleshy petal onto which I clung in desperation, puncturing its skin. A thick, sticky liquid oozed out, clinging to my fingers. As if in pain, the flower shuddered but did not stop its relentless efforts to pull me into itself. Finally, despite my desperate struggling, it managed to break my hold as it swallowed my entire body into its muscular gullet. I managed to keep my head lifted toward its surface opening, trying desperately to avoid suffocation, gasping in the air whenever the strong, relentless peristaltic action of its gullet relaxed. The flower forced me further and further down into itself, its strong muscles squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing, until I could see sunlight no longer. My brain screamed into itself as the prospect of being slowly digested alive by a man-eating plant loomed ahead of me. I tried to find a foothold or a handhold to fight my downward decent, but the gullet surface was too slick and too mobile to allow for that. Being crushed by a fall to earth now looked like a pretty good idea compared to this. Was this the fate for which I had been saved? Was this to be the unceremonious end of all my efforts to save Edmond?

  It was becoming harder and harder for me to breathe as the squeezing action increased. The flower continued forcing me downward until suddenly it stopped and I was abruptly spat out onto a hard surface. I stumbled and fell, the wind knocked out of me for a few moments. I stood up as quickly as I could and checked myself for damage; except for some soreness and bruising from the squeezing, I seemed to be okay. I looked to examine the exit of the flower from which I’d been spat, but there was just a solid, blank ceiling and wall. Looking around, I seemed to be at one end of a man-made tunnel of some sort.

  The light level was dark, the tunnel foreboding. However, considering its originator was Arrosha, I could have expected no more. The narrow corridor was very tall but very thin, wide enough for only two people to pass through side by side comfortably, and it seemed to be constructed of the same iridescent bronze-like metal from which the tower room had been made. A dim light was coming from the other end of the tunnel, which was formed in the shape of a pointed archway, casting its reflection upon the smooth, polished walls and floor.

  Cautiously, I entered the corridor, looking behind myself often to make sure that none of Arrosha’s nasty surprises popped up unexpectedly. But none did, and as the passageway continued, I began to relax just enough to examine my surroundings, still vigilant, however, for any new movements or noises. The entire length of the corridor seemed to be consistent in its construction. The support beams, which were set about ten feet apart, were skeletal in appearance, suggesting long, curved metal human femur bones. The metallic walls between them were blank and cold to the touch.

  That the corridor was reflected back onto the polished floor was more than a little disorienting. I could see neither beginning nor ending to the pass now, only that the light that beckoned me seemed a little brighter since the pupils of my enhanced eyes had now dilated to adjust. Somewhat dark though it was, gone was the dullness of some of the other nightmare realms that Arrosha had created, for while the light level was low, I could still see the iridescent rainbow shades that the bronze metal reflected.

  My thoughts as I traveled down the long, long hallway were accompanied only by the occasional squeak of my sneakers when I took a misstep, the sound of my breathing and the occasional clearing of my throat, all of which echoed loudly in the corridor. The only other sound present in my ears was t
he pounding of my own heart. The absolute aloneness was frightening. Lost and trapped here with no one to help me, I missed Ben’s company intensely. He had made me feel protected in our journey on the surface; and my having to console him and cheer him up had made me more optimistic in the process. Without his presence, dread fuelled my thoughts and emotions. The knot I felt in my stomach grew larger and tighter with each passing step that I took. The impression that I must be getting close to Arrosha was replaced by a horrible thought that came unbidden into my mind. What if this was another unending hallway such as the one at the mansion? If so, I could follow it for years, never to reach its other end. I shoved that idea out of my mind because, at this point, it would only lead to panic. Besides, didn’t Edmond say that Arrosha would bring me to him at the end so that he could watch me die? The only solace I received from that thought was that the end for me was not quite here yet.

  At first the curve of this interminably long, monotonous corridor was so slight that I’d hardly noticed it, but after a while, the curves started becoming tighter. The passageway was now winding in upon itself like a nautilus shell, the source of the light never revealing itself. As I continued down the corridor, there was nowhere to turn, no doors or other passageways shooting off of it that I could take. In the back of my mind loomed the fear that I might finally come to the end of this corridor and discover there a only a light, a single lamp burning at another dead end and I would be stranded in a long, winding corridor that had only a beginning and an end, with nowhere to go and nothing to do for the rest of my days except wander this stretching hallway that went nowhere back and forth until the necklace amulet gave up on me, returning to the home of its little box, leaving me here to die alone of dehydration and hunger. But I worked hard to keep those thoughts in the back of my mind, because I knew that mindless panic and hysteria awaited me were I to allow myself to think them openly. I reassured myself with the thought that wasn’t how this game was played.