The Spitting Post

by Jason R. Barden

  “Removal?” I wondered out loud. “Who would choose removal?”

  I knocked once and waited. Nothing happened. Mistakenly thinking that my first attempt was not heard, I knocked again. The circular floor dropped, plunging me into a pit. Pots that held the plants came crashing down as well with a few striking me on the head. I blacked out from the hard blows.

  I awoke in total darkness. I supposed the floor had moved back into place above me and was now the ceiling of this pit. My head felt as if it were splitting from a massive headache. I sat up and squinted, but it was no use. It was pitch black, and I couldn’t see a thing. I laughed aloud wondering if anyone else had fallen for the same joke that had dropped me into this hole. I imagined there really was no way into the room beyond the foyer. It was merely a ploy to trick visitors into knocking twice. Maybe I should have chosen the left door in the antechamber.

  Because I couldn’t see anything, I decided to crawl along the floor to a wall and go from there. I placed my hands on the floor and felt the gritty dirt. There was no floor as such; it was just the ground. I crawled slowly to avoid striking my head. I crept with no sense of direction at all. Finally, I felt a slight bump on my forehead; I had reached a wall. I turned my legs and back toward the wall and touched it with my side. Now I could crawl alongside the wall and look for an exit. I continued following the wall and felt I was going in a circle. I supposed this made sense as the room above was round. Then I felt my left hand closest to the wall fall slightly into a dip. I turned my body toward it and went forward with my head toward the dip. It was a small crawlspace barely large enough for my body. It appeared more slippery than the dirt, and I believed it was made of limestone like the cave outside. I crawled through the space on my stomach with my forearms pulling me along as if I were swimming.

  I had stopped for a second to rest my aching arms when I felt something fall onto my face. I still couldn’t see a thing, and the crawlspace was so tight I could barely move. I was alone in the dark, compressed by a tunnel and unable to discern what had fallen on my face. I felt it creep across my nose. I pushed my face forward to meet my hands on the crawlspace floor. My fingers wrapped around the object and pulled it from my face. My sense of touch told me it was a worm, and it squirmed between my two fingers trying to free itself. I tossed it aside and tried to forget that it had just oozed its way across my face. The worm had produced a thick, slimy mucus that left a small trail of goo. It reminded me of the secretions of a snail, and it now lingered heavily on my cheeks. With much disgust I crawled on.

  I stopped again to rest my forearms. I had crawled about twenty feet and exerted great effort to have moved such a short distance, but I hoped the effort would lead somewhere; there was no way I could turn around. My thoughts were interrupted by another creepy crawly falling onto my face.

  “Not again!”

  No sooner had I uttered the words than I felt another fall onto my face. I had two worms on me. Then another. And another. Four worms. Then five. Then six. Seven. Eight. Nine. My face was covered in slimy worms. I grabbed a handful and flung them. I lifted my hand toward the tunnel’s roof only a short distance above my head. I could not feel the limestone but felt stickiness everywhere. The entire tunnel ceiling was infested with worms. I crawled faster and faster trying to find an exit. With every inch more and more worms fell onto my body and face. My head was covered, and I closed my mouth to keep the worms from entering. I felt one trying to gain entry through my nose. I blew as hard as I could, which deterred it. Ahead only a few feet I could see a faint light, and so I hurried, scraping my forearms and elbows along the way. More worms fell from the top, and I was now covered from head to toe. I sped through the opening as if I had been shot from a circus cannon.

  I stood upright and removed my clothes, shaking off as many worms as I could. I extracted them from my hair and my eyelids. They were everywhere. After I finally rid my body of them, I vigorously shook them out of my clothes and got dressed again. My arms and elbows were sore and bleeding from the crawl, and my blood was mixed with slime. I was still covered in the stinking ooze left by the worms, and I had no other means of removing it but to wipe it away with my hands. I wiped it from my face with my palm and then wiped the slime onto the floor. The floor felt like stone.

  I looked around and realized I was back in the underground palace. The room was rectangular, and at the opposite end was a small staircase leading upward. To the right of the hole were four jail cells, and each held captives, but I doubted they would be departing anytime soon. They had all turned to skeletons.

  I walked past the deceased prisoners and wondered if they had been criminals or had simply ended up on the wrong side of the palace’s owner. I walked up the short staircase and opened the wooden door. The next room was much like the first two at the beginning of the underground castle. The walls, ceiling, and floor were the same shiny tan marble. Just a few feet ahead was another short staircase that led to a small ledge about four feet high. At the top were two stone columns on the left and right. At the back of the room were three doors. The center door faced the stairs leading toward the ledge, and the other two were to the left and right and were slightly slanted toward the center of the room.

  I walked to the top of the ledge and stared at the three doors, wondering which to open. The last time I chose a door, I made a huge mistake. I didn’t want to make another, but I had never been there before, so there was no way to know which path was the right one. I chose the center door and held my breath. It opened with little effort and revealed a large banquet hall. The room was rectangular and featured a long dining table set for twenty people. On the table were various fruits that looked fresh. As good as it seemed, I refrained from eating anything as I was not sure if it were poisoned.

  At the opposite end from where I entered was yet another door. I placed my hand on the knob and gave it a twist, but it was locked. I walked back to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat while trying to avoid looking at the food. Now what?

  Across from me on the other side of the rectangular room was a fireplace. I noticed something shiny peeking out from among the ashes, so I went over to inspect. I placed my hand into the ashes and removed a silver key. I went back to the locked door, inserted the key, and gave the knob a firm twist. It opened.

  I saw a round room with six doors, including the one I had just entered. There was a door directly across, two at the right, the one where I was, and two to the left. I decided to try the door directly across, and if that didn’t work, I would make my way clockwise around the room.

  I opened the door and a loud, vulgar scream ushered itself into the room. The howling was so loud that it sent a gust of wind whizzing passed me that blew my hair back. It wasn’t the right door, so I slammed it shut with my ears ringing intensely.

  I made my way to the next door to the right. I opened it while bracing myself for another scream, but there was nothing. It was silent. The room within was pitch black, and none of the light from the circular room entered it. I stretched out my foot to place it on the floor, but my foot never touched solid ground. Instead, it met open air. The floor was missing, and the room descended into blackness. I was relieved that I hadn’t walked directly into the room before testing it as I would have fallen into the depths of its abyss.

  I turned the knob of the next door and found that it revealed blackness much like the previous one. I started to shut the door when a blast of worm slime shot from the room and soaked me thoroughly.

  Next, I moved to the door across the way. I had no idea what sick humor awaited on the other side, so I turned the knob and slowly opened the door. Before I could get the door completely open, I heard a savage growl. I quickly shut the door and placed my back against it. This was not the correct one either. Only one door left.

  When I was certain that whatever it was in that room was not trying to break down the door, I eased my back away from it and made my way to that final door. This must be the correct door as it was the
only one left—unless it was another trick, and there was no correct door at all. I opened this final option slowly, and when I peered inside I saw a long hall with a door on the opposite side about forty feet to the right. The room was filled with numerous potted nightshade and some black roses on either side of the doors. I entered and approached the large double door that was to the right of my entrance. I opened it and stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind me. I turned and tried to open it, but it was locked. There was no going back the way I had come.

  Directly in front of me was the largest room I had ever seen. A golden staircase extended about eighty feet to the top of the gigantic chamber. I assumed it must lead to the top of the canyon, and that was exactly where I needed to be. I walked up the stairs, resting every ten steps. I saw a chair at the top. It appeared that someone was seated there. I continued upward, wondering all the while if it was a person, who it might be. I stopped to rest again, and I was certain it was a human in the chair, but I still couldn’t make out the details. When I came within twenty feet of the top of the colossal chamber, I saw a gold man seated on a wooden throne. The man was motionless and at first, I thought he was a statue, but then I saw the movements of his chest as he breathed deeply. His skin was a bright gold, and his face looked severely troubled. One of his arms was relaxed on the throne’s armrest, and the other was bent at the elbow with his chin resting on his fist. He was wearing a long black flowing robe, and his gold head was shaved to the scalp. His red eyes were fixed on the ground, and he never blinked. He seemed unaware of my presence—or maybe he just didn’t care.

  I tiptoed around him and anticipated a sudden jolt of energy from the golden man, but he remained inanimate except for his rapid and deep breathing. Directly behind the throne was a golden door. This was the only means of proceeding, but I didn’t feel I had reached the top of the canyon just yet.

  I opened the door slowly and then closed it as silently as possible to avoid disturbing the thinking gold man seated on his throne. As soon as the door was shut and in place, I heard a loud shriek from within the room I had just entered.

  “What have you done?” A woman asked with a shrill voice.

  “What did I do?” I asked, looking about the square room for the lady who was interrogating me.

  There were numerous bookshelves organized into two columns with another door across from my present location. There was nobody in sight, and I assumed the woman must be behind one of the shelves.

  “What have you done?” she repeated with a voice that could have peeled leaves from the nightshade had they been present.

  “I didn’t know I did anything,” I said frantically. “All I did was open the door and walk in.”

  “Not you,” she said. “My husband.”

  She jumped from behind the last bookshelf and revealed her strange appearance. Her face and skin were a shiny silver, and her hair and eyes were raven black. She wore a long obsidian dress that matched her charcoal lipstick and eyeliner.

  “I do not believe you have met him yet, have you?” she asked with a frown.

  “No, I have not.” And I wondered why she was asking me this as I had not been properly introduced to her, either. “Is he the man outside sitting on the throne?”

  “No, no, no. He is over here,” she said, and she beckoned me to her at the bookshelf.

  “That’s okay. I can greet him from here,” I said, feeling most reluctant to come close to this woman. It was all too obvious she was far off the track of sanity.

  “Okay. I will bring him to you,” she said with a lopsided grin.

  She slipped into the cover of the shelf and then came blasting into the open walkway between the two columns.

  “Here he is,” she said sounding excitement. But there was nothing there—just her.

  “I don’t see him,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t believe me.

  “Sure you do. He is right here,” she said with an extremely wide, inhuman smile as the corners of her mouth almost touched her lower eyelids.

  “Are you sure he is not the golden man sitting on the throne outside?” I asked while pointing to the door behind me with my thumb.

  “No!” she screamed as her smile turned upside down.

  “Okay. I take that back. I do see him,” I said as I tried to ease her mood.

  “You do, don’t you?” she said as her frown turned upside down.

  “I do,” I said while forcing a smile meant to pacify. “Now I have a question for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Do you know where I can find torment?” I asked, knowing all along that she wouldn’t have a clue what I was talking about, but I supposed it didn’t hurt to ask.

  “Yes, I am tormented,” she answered with a befuddled grin.

  “No, I need to face the torment to leave here,” I said, wondering how else to explain something I really didn’t understand myself.

  “We are all tormented,” she said with the same lopsided smile.

  “Never mind,” I said with a sense of defeat.

  She glided over to where I was at the room’s entrance and placed her silver hand on my shoulder.

  “Would you like to dine with us?” she asked.

  “No, thank you. I must be on my way.”

  She ushered me toward the door on the opposite side of the room, pushing me along with her hand. I followed with no resistance.

  “Come this way; the meal is already prepared,” she said as she opened the door.

  The room was much like the earlier dining area I had encountered before entering the circular room with the nasty pranks. The table revealed more of the same type of delicious-looking fruit I had seen much earlier.

  “No, thank you. I mustn’t,” I said while removing her hand from my shoulder.

  As good as the food looked, I didn’t trust her or this place.

  “Suit yourself,” she said, and she slipped back into the library behind us.

  I wasn’t sure why she believed her husband was there even though he obviously was not. Or why she hadn’t asked me what I was doing there. But she didn’t appear hostile—at least not yet.

  Ahead was another door, and I walked toward it, passing the temptation of food.

  “What have you done?” the silver woman screamed just as she had before.

  I supposed she acted this scene over and over. Maybe that’s why the gold man was pondering on his throne. Or maybe not. Who knew?

  I opened the door and walked into another gigantic chamber that mirrored the room with the golden man. The stairs seemed to go on forever, and I knew a long climb was ahead. I started with one step at a time, but at a much slower pace than on the previous mountain of stairs. When I reached about halfway, I could see a tall gray stone door at the top. It appeared to have black smudged across it, but I was too far back to determine what exactly it was. I stopped to rest and noticed how filthy I was. The worm slime had dried and was hard and crusty. It had become like glue hugging itself to me like a second skin that hurt in a few places as I tried to bend.

  I was so tired I could have gone into a long, deep sleep right there on those steps. And I almost did. But I forced myself onward. When I reached the top, I saw the large gray stone door. The blackness I had seen from below were words written on the door as if it were a tablet. The black words were slovenly etched and appeared to dribble at each letter. There were a few handprints, and the entire entry looked as if it had been smeared with blood. But instead of red blood, the print was black as coal. The dripping words revealed to me the pain that lounged behind the door.

  Torment Written

  The agony and terror of not knowing what lies ahead

  The uncertainty of the chance that is overcome with dread

  I see nothing but emptiness that stands before me

  I become lost in the mists of my own fantasy

  All my hopes and dreams seem to be nothing more

  than fabrications of the synthetic mind

  I long for them t
o be real

  I search, I seek, but I still cannot find

  The pain, the agony of where I stand accused

  The torture of the fragile mind that is abused

  I try to understand the person in my own confused head

  But when I found him I discovered he was already dead

  For this is the torment written in my shattered heart

  Like a million and one times before I become ripped apart

  I am so very lost and my spirit has been misplaced

  I hang my weary head in utter disgrace

  Ripped to and fro, back, forth, and in between

  Where do the bewildered go to ease the sting

  Shedding my skin, the scars itch invariably

  The moment of constant uncertainty

  Review the pages with me, digest the

  words, decipher the meaning

  When I awake was I just dreaming

  Then I heard something banging about on the other side of the door. It sounded colossal and horrific. I compelled myself to take a deep breath although I felt tiny and intimidated. I drew my pistol and checked that it was loaded. I swung the heavy stone door open and pointed my gun. The entry gave way to a large circular room with numerous pillars clinging to the walls to support its high ceiling. It resembled the Coliseum in Rome, but it was smaller and lacked the stands to house a cheering crowd. Then I saw it.

  There stood a huge man covered in brown burlap sacks. They seemed to have been woven around him like another layer of skin so tight that I couldn’t see any of his actual skin. Instead of one large piece of burlap, it seemed that numerous sacks had been stitched together to form his suit as you could see the black thread connecting them. He stood about eight feet tall and was so broad shouldered it was obvious he possessed great strength. His eyes were not eyes at all but two large black buttons sewn onto the burlap. They looked cold and lifeless, and I felt them looking straight through me. He held a giant stone club in his right hand, and he banged the club loudly on the arena floor. Around his neck he wore a wooden sign with thick chains. The sign said, Torment Ted.