As she glided around the side of the platform, she looked at me, realized I wasn’t following her, and smiled a smile that reeked of death.
“Oh, my dear,” she said in a sickeningly oily-sweet way, “you’re not following me. Surely you want to meet the man of your dreams.”
Yes, I did want to meet Edmond, and he really was the man of my dreams. It was a truth, however, that sounded foul coming from her mouth. The way she said it sent chills down my spine. I knew she would find a way to turn this experience into yet another of my worst nightmares, a task at which she excelled.
Despite my trepidations, and there were many, I managed, more by sheer will than by any other force, to move one foot in front of the other in order to follow the malevolent being that was now smugly promising to take me to the man that I wanted most. I realized, however, that she was leading me into a dark, desolate, evil place which would hold only my doom wrapped in a sadistic package.
I followed her around to the far side of the platform, which, looked exactly like the side from which I had just come. She walked up to the stream of glowing cyan and blue liquid and a bridge appeared there suddenly, but nowhere else. She crossed it, but I stood at the edge of the stream, staring at the bridge, remembering how it had disappeared behind me earlier. Like everything else in this terrible place, I knew not to trust it.
Arrosha turned and looked at me, her cold smile not fading for an instant. “Follow me,” she said, “if you want to see Edmond.
“You’re worried,” she continued in a mock conciliatory tone, her smile growing even colder, “that the bridge won’t hold, that it will drop you into the stream’s liquid, a fluid that would consume the flesh right off your bones. You’re right, of course. Were you to fall into it, this liquid would dissolve your flesh, devouring it more hungrily than a school of piranhas, and the amulet you wear hasn’t activated to protect you yet.
“But, the bridge will stay put where it is. You’re safe to cross it. Fear not, my dear. I have much better plans in place for you than such a, if you’ll pardon the pun, pedestrian death. Much, much better plans. I’m still not finished with you yet, you see. I’ve decided that while you’re here, I’ll give you one more chance to change your mind. And if you don’t, well, you’ve been warned. You’ve been an awful lot of trouble to me, so trust me when I say that when I do dispense of you, it will be a much more painful death than being dissolved alive.”
I had no problem believing that particular promise, so I put one foot upon the bridge, then the next and continued on, careful to keep my balance and not be done in by a misstep of my own making. This time, as I crossed the bridge, the liquid remained the same color. It didn’t turn red, it didn’t bubble and fizz as it had before. My hunch that I had triggered an alarm system earlier seemed to be confirmed. Arrosha knew I was here now; she didn’t need an alarm.
Once across the bridge, I looked up from my feet and saw Arrosha standing by the far wall.
“You see, my dear, you made it after all. I have no reason to deceive you any longer, so you can trust everything I tell you now.”
The wall behind her dissolved into an open doorway leading into a darkened hall which was identical to the metallic tunnel from which I had entered this room. “Shall we?” she said, smirking. She turned and glided into the hallway. I followed behind reluctantly, very aware of my position of lamb to her slaughter. While the construction of this corridor was the same, the lighting was different. Instead of the warm, golden light that was the continual reflection of Edmond’s stasis chamber, this one was dimly lit in a cold, purplish blue, producing an even more foreboding effect, if that were even possible. The walls in this tunnel were the same as the last one, smooth as the floor, its polished metallic surface shining just as brightly, save for a smattering of strange hieroglyphics the likes of which I doubted anyone alive had ever seen. But instead of the shell-like curving inward pattern that the other corridor exhibited, this tunnel declined gently downward.
“These hieroglyphics are really interesting,” I said, trying to make small talk with my soon-to-be murderess.
“Yes, they are,” she said as she continued going forward. “The language is a dead one, however, for it is that of my beloved Illeaocea.”
As she kept gliding ahead of me, I noticed an interesting phenomenon. Whenever I would walk a little closer to her, she would simply glide away at a faster pace until she reached her safe distance from the dragon amulet I wore. Oddly, she didn’t even seem to be aware of it. It was similar to the repellant effect of a magnet’s two north poles or two south poles being positioned too closely together. It didn’t seem to affect me, because it wasn’t driving me backward, only her forward. Apparently, she could not repel the amulet; it could only repel her.
“This certainly is a long stretch of empty hallway,” I said after awhile. The silence was getting to me and such obvious banality was all I could think to say. Without stopping her pace, she casually turned her head 180 degrees around, gliding forward with her head facing backwards. Either she’d forgotten it wasn’t humanly possible or had just given up all pretense of being human. I screamed. I would have jumped backwards and run away as fast as I could have at the sight, but I couldn’t. I didn’t realize it before, but I was stuck in what must have been some kind of traction field. I could only move forward. My stomach churned as I was forced to look at her head’s unnerving position.
Seeing my terror amused her greatly. She smiled broadly and let out a short, chilling laugh. The cold bluish purple light emphasized her horrific appearance; her corpse-like, translucent skin seemed to absorb the light and now looked cold pale blue in color. Her bulging eyes and teeth, far too large for her face now, were a glowing white as they sat in her overly emaciated skull of a face. As she continued to smile venomously at me, enjoying my fear immensely, I tried to stare at my feet, my hands, the walls, anything but the abomination that went before me. But I couldn’t. It was almost as if she were willing me to look at her. I felt even more powerless than ever before.
“It won’t be empty for long,” she said. “We’re about to come up to one of the more ‘inhabited’ areas. This is another one of my ‘galleries’. You’ve seen the ones at the mansion but these are even more important. This one, in particular, is quite special, for along with the floor of Edmond’s room, which I will be showing you shortly, it contains the very worst enemies I’ve had over the eons. Needless to say, as you will soon see, I’ve defeated them all.
“Let’s keep walking,” she said, as if I had a choice in the matter, “and you’ll see what I mean.”
Her sneer of a smile broadened even further as we continued our descent into the tunnel. She kept her deathly gaze upon me for a while and then she turned her head back around, placing it back into a direction in which God had intended. She’d had no problem looking where she was going whilst facing backwards, so I supposed she turned her head facing forward now only because the novelty of my terror already had worn away. The psycho bores quickly, I thought, and she was probably now busying her twisted mind by hatching even more demented surprises for me.
My insides were knotted up so badly that I was amazed I could still walk. That I was trapped in some kind of energy field, I was now certain. While usually quite subtle, it was noticeable only when I tried to step outside of it, stop, or turn back. If I just gave up and quit moving right now, there was no doubt in my mind that she would keep my body aright and force my feet one in front of the other, pulling me along like a living flesh and blood marionette. I thought about doing that, actually, to conserve my energy for the inevitable showdown. But then who was I kidding? There would be no showdown. There would only be slaughter. Mine.
As we continued to walk, in silence now, I began to notice that the walls had a slightly lumpy appearance.
“This section I’ve prepared for my future work. It saves me time,” she explained, as if reading the question in my thoughts. “When the opportunity arises, I can expend my efforts
on the more enjoyable aspects of preservation.”
It was just a short distance later when the walls began to shift and move slightly. Next, they suddenly became alive and lunged forward, metallic forms straining from the walls, metallic arms with metallic hands reaching, clutching, grasping, trying their best to get to Arrosha, tearing at her as if they wanted to pull out her throat. These movements were accompanied by strongly muffled, metallicized moans of anger, anguish and frustration. Startled and frightened, I screamed at the top of my lungs. Their cries were the sounds of the damned, and I recognized them. They were the cries from the souls trapped in the horrible red miasma of the shower that I heard the day after my first visit to The Crypt. It frightened me so much that I would have jumped back, turned and run away with all my might had I been able, but once again the traction field I in which was caught prevented me. Arrosha proved my marionette theory correct by forcing my one foot in front of the other, walking me forward against my will. I feared passing these figures, frightened that their reach would increase and they might actually be able to grab me and pull me into the walls with them. Arrosha was almost nonreactive, behaving as if this were a common occurrence, and knowing her as I did now, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if it were. But one by one, as she finished passing them, they gradually settled down until, by the time I cleared them a few moments later, they looked like nothing more than relief sculptures that had been molded into metal walls.
“Don’t worry,” Arrosha said, again not turning around. I was grateful that she didn’t, because watching her walk with her head facing backwards was something I never wanted to see again. “Like the ones at the mansion, they’re all dead, at least mostly. They can’t hurt you right now. In life most of them were my enemies and I would never give my enemies enough power to harm you until it suits me.”
After a slight lull, we then passed by several others that lunged at her as vengefully as the first group had.
“Ah,” she said cheerfully, as if she were commenting upon a pleasant spring day. “It’s been too long since I’ve been down this way. It’s so nice to see that they still remember me!”
As we continued our journey, the frequency of the futile lunges, the frustrated, impotent attacks by her mostly-dead former enemies became more and more frequent until they were constant, coming at her from both sides of the tunnel walls at the same time. Walking through this section of the tunnel was a terrifying, incredibly traumatizing experience for me as Arrosha’s enemies sprang out so quickly and violently at her, with their muffled, metallic-sounding moans, yells and screams. I took limited solace in knowing they couldn’t hurt me, for while I wouldn’t trust Arrosha with a fake penny, her motives were selfish and psychotic enough for me to believe that she’d never let her enemies have the pleasure of killing me when she wanted to save that gratification for herself.
We walked for what seemed to be an interminably long time, the terrifying drama of Arrosha’s ex-enemies’ violent, impotent attacks played out before me now in constant motion. I tried not to concentrate on what lay ahead of me, and with her attention not directed upon me, she’d released my sight so I could look wherever I wanted now. Trying to block the frustrated violence that continued before me from my mind as much as possible, I concentrated my attention instead on the figures, now dormant at my sides as I passed them. They all looked so unimaginably sad. But in their sadness, some looked hopeless while others also seethed with anger and vengeance, and yet others had such agony written upon their faces. Except for a very few, they were almost exclusively male. Every once in a great while we would pass a female form and I would wonder how she wound up here. Had these women been real enemies or just strong rivals for the affections of a man that Arrosha desired? Every once in a while I now began to pass a few figures whose sadness seemed to be mingled with feelings of surprise and betrayal. She’d probably entombed these so suddenly that they hadn’t even had the time to become angry at her.
While the walk through Arrosha’s “gallery” seemed endless, it finally did come to and end, suddenly and quickly, not gradually as it had begun. I’d noticed that the garb of the poor souls entombed, those that wore any clothes at all, seemed to be going further and further back in time as we walked. At last we must finally reached and then passed the beginning of her enemies’ list. The corridor now curved sharply to our right and then came to an abrupt dead end, where we stopped. Knowing the repelling effects of the necklace I wore upon Arrosha, I was tempted for a brief moment to rush toward her within this traction field, repelling her rapidly and slamming her into that wall. But my plan was nothing more than a fantasy, I realized as sense got the better of me. It would never work. It wouldn’t even phase her. The only thing that could accomplish would be to make her very angry; and she was far mad enough without any extra help from me. My only possible escape was to save Edmond.
“Are you ready to see your lover now?” she asked calmly. She seemed completely unaware of what I had been thinking. I reminded myself of Virginia’s words telling me that Arrosha was not infallible and could be defeated. But how? Even though I knew what to do, being able to do it was something else entirely. It seemed utterly impossible. Arrosha would never allow me to free Edmond because it would mean defeating and destroying her.
“Of course I’m ready to see Edmond. But you’re just going to give me another trick viewing like you did before, aren’t you?”
“No trick viewing, I assure you. This is where I keep him. I like to think of him as a sort of a mascot. I find it helps. I’ll be happy to show you Edmond, the real Edmond. And then if you don’t take my offer, I’ll kill you.”
“You won’t be able to keep the amulet, even if I do.”
“Perhaps not, but you’d still make a wonderful trophy like my little Max, though.”
She waved her hand at the wall and once again it dissolved. Her tricks no longer surprised me; I’d even come to expect them. This new doorway revealed yet another room, rather narrow yet very long, completely empty and bathed in the same dim, cold bluish-purple light as this hallway.
“You will stay here,” she ordered. “I’ve released you from my command, but don’t even try to run away. It would be pointless anyway, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out. There’s no where to run, no escape, so don’t even try it.”
“If there’s no where for me to go, why would you care if I tried to escape?” I replied sheepishly. If she was so concerned about it, did that mean that maybe there was a way out, that maybe there was hope yet? I hoped her answer might reveal a clue.
“Because, you stupid woman,” she said, her mood changing instantly, angered by my question, “I’m not in the mood for any foolishness! In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m famished! Because of the enormous amount of energy it’s taken me to deal with you, I’m ravenous and I don’t feel like dealing with your meddling in my affairs any longer! Stay here until I tell you to move!”
Her eyes flashed and her skull-like face contorted with anger and rage. It was so fearful a sight that I shrank back, sorry that I had tested her.
“Do I need to keep my eyes on you while I walk away?” she threatened. I knew what she meant and the thought of watching her head turn one hundred eighty degrees around again sent chills down my spine.
“No, no, you don’t. I’ll stay right here. I promise.”
A wicked smirk of victory crossed her face. “Good girl,” she said. “I knew you would listen to reason.”
I stood as still as I could, afraid now to move a muscle, as I watched her turn and glide away in her unnatural, floating manner.
She walked about three quarters of the length of the room, stopped and turned to me.
“Your precious Edmond is in this room, but I don’t see him, do you?”
Of course I don’t, you raving lunatic, was what I really wanted to say, but instead I just silently shook my head.
“Now where could he be? I could swear this room was where I put him.” She began to float ar
ound the room, as if she were looking for him. She obviously thought this was fun. Her sick, twisted distortion of an innocent game for babies made me realize just how insane she was. And this was the woman that wanted me to give her the means to rule the world? But then again, being crazy and wanting to rule the world kind of went hand in hand together, didn’t they?
“Edmond, oh, Edmond, where are you?” she continued around the room as if searching for him. “Are you over here?” she said, walking to the right side of the room. “Why, no,” she continued in a mocking, sing-song tone, “You’re not. Now, let’s see, are you over here and I just didn’t notice you?” She floated back to the spot where she had previously stood. She stopped, putting her left hand on her hip and touching the fingers of her right hand to her chin in mock consternation. “Now, where, oh, where could he be?” she asked me in her saccharin-filled voice. “Could he be hiding from me? Edmond,” she addressed the empty room. “Are you being a bad boy and hiding?” She now cupped her ear exaggeratedly as if listening for a faint reply. “Why, no,” she said to me again. “I don’t think he is hiding.” In pretense her face lit up and she snapped her fingers. “I remember where I put him now! He’s cloaked!”
She waved her arm and in the otherwise empty room, at its farthest end, stood a stasis chamber. In it slept Edmond.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
“Behold!” announced Arrosha. “Here is the man of your dreams. Here he lies in slumber, in a sleep deeper than the deepest trance, helpless, hapless, and completely unable to help you. Here lies your hero, Ashley. Isn’t he marvelous? Behold him in all his glory!” she announced before she began to laugh a wicked, nasty laugh.
While I couldn’t see Edmond very clearly inside the stasis chamber now, I remembered him from the projection, which was both closer and clearer. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. In the physical world, he wasn’t the hero of my dreams. Here, he was just a poor, trapped man, unable to help himself, let alone me. Since my arrival in New Orleans, whenever Edmond had entered my dreams, he’d always been the one that was strong. He had very literally rescued me every time I’d needed it, although how I didn’t really understand. Each time, he gave me the healing, the strength, energy and courage I needed to persevere. Had it not been for his rescue, Arrosha would have surely dissolved me down that drain in the bathroom floor. But he couldn’t rescue me here. Here, it was my turn to rescue him. This was it, then, the reason I’d been pulled into this nightmare in the first place. It was nitty-gritty time, the point of this entire quest and now it was my turn to have to be the hero.
The Nightmare Game Page 67