The Hollows, page 10
One of the two twins, the one with the stained pants, took a step forward, “Your highness. My name is Demi. This is my brother Remi. Behind me, there is Martin, Troy, Logan, Shiloh, and the shy one is Brendon.”
Her eyes were wild with distrust, the boys could easily tell. Remi turned and started to talk to the boys individually while Demi slowly crouched in front of her. Only this close did she realize that his hair and clothes were soaked. He couldn’t have been more than twelve, only two or three years her junior, but he stood in the labyrinth with a calmness that comes with experience.
Remi snapped his fingers in front of her face making her blink, “Hello? Wake up, you in there?”
She shook the webs out of her mind, “Yes, yes I’m here. What happened?”
“Well, we saw you from below and pulled you back to the surface. The labyrinth’s waters almost swallowed you.”
The girl shook her head, “That doesn’t make any sense. I fell from the labyrinth into the water and then was pulled under.”
Demi shrugged, “Perspective is different to everyone here. To me, you were upside down in the pool, so we pulled you out. It was as if you were fighting me to go deeper. It wasn’t until you passed out that we were able to pull you up.”
“So, I’m still in the labyrinth?”
His eyes seemed confused, like looking into the eyes of a child muddled by the idea of adulthood, “you never left.”
“I thought I nearly drowned and was hoping this was a dream,” She said. As if answering, the moth made itself visible just over the boy’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry to not give you the pleasure of doing so. Although, it might have been a blessing if you did.”
Another boy walked over and held out a hand, “Your highness, my name is Kostya, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Why do you keep calling me highness?” The girl asked, looking around at all the boys with awe in their eyes.
Kostya shifted from one foot to another, “You are well known in The Hollows, do you not remember?”
The girl shook her head.
“We have all called you that since we first saw you. Rumors of your existence has been widely known, but not many have had the pleasure of meeting you,” He said.
“I’m not royalty,” She said quietly.
Kostya smiled as he backed away, “But you don’t remember anything, do you? Then how would you know?”
“Why are you here?” One of the twin boys asked.
The girl tilted her head towards him, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you here?” He said seriously, “No one is here without reason.”
“Well, why the hell are you here?” Her voice laced with venom.
Demi dropped his eyes to the ground, distant, mournful, “Me and my brothers are different.”
The girl on the ground looked around, noticing meant all of the boys, not just his twin. She did not want to push. Years in the Hollows had taught her what ‘different’ meant. Everything was strange, so strange that it was normal. The Gray took over not too long ago, but even their presence was somewhat typical. The look on Demi’s face and the sound of his voice, ‘different’ meant dangerous. But they were children, she thought to herself, how dangerous could they be to be put in the Labyrinth and away from the Hollows?
Demi cleared his throat, “So, why are you here?”
“I don’t know. I was on the outskirts of the mist, watching the roads, and the next thing I knew I’m in a room that was falling apart.” Her voice was shaky remembering the bugs.
Demi nodded, “Were there spiders? And bones outside the door?”
Her eyes snapped to his, “How did you know that?”
He nodded to himself, “You came in the South-East entrance. We don’t know much about the Labyrinth, but we’re learning. We have been trying to figure a way out. We won’t last another week. What you came through was the South East. If it was the southernmost entrance, there would have been snakes and larger predators.”
The girl’s eyes quickly avoided Demi’s.
He noticed, “What is it?”
“What if there was something else there?” She squeaked out, “Something large that started following.”
Demi nonchalantly kicked at the dirt, “It’s possible. From what we’ve seen, the larger animals stay on the outer circles. We are in the second most layer, but we haven’t even figured out how many layers the labyrinth has. Could be infinite.”
The girl shuddered, “Okay, good. I never want to feel that thing again.”
Demi froze. When she looked up his eyes were fierce and sharp and wildly afraid, “What do you mean, ‘feel him’?”
“I don’t know. I never saw it, I just felt it. I heard breathing and footsteps like a large animal. Larger than anything I’d seen in the Hollows. But, I felt it. I could feel a hunger, but I also, I don’t know.”
He bent down and grabbed the girl’s hand tightly in his palms, “No, tell me. Please.”
She took a hesitant breath, “I just felt like it was enjoying it. As if it liked me being afraid.”
Kostya backed away and ran to the boys, the others shook as the twins looked between one another with terror.
Demi stood up, “Shit! Boys we have to go.”
“What is it?” She asked frantically, getting to her feet.
The boys reacted the same way, all but Brendon, gathering around each other and heading for the hallways. Kostya looked back at her with pity.
“Stop! Talk to me. What is going on?” She screamed.
Remi walked past Demi and stood between her and the boys, “You are being followed by something that we cannot be involved in. It’s, it’s worse.”
“Tell me,” She pleaded.
Remi shook his head. As she saw his profile, she saw a long scar from his right temple to the corner of the lip that was trying so hard not to quiver with fear, “You have the Iktomi on you.”
The boys behind him all stood deadly still, eyes widened. Then, in a bustle, they started to whisper frantically to one another.
The girl dropped to her knees, “No, that’s impossible. I haven’t done anything. I haven’t done anything!”
“What you supposedly did or did not do is of little consequence,” Remi said, idling rubbing a finger down his scar. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes sad with empathy, “the fact remains, the Iktomi hunts you.”
The girl sat there motionless. And as the moth settled onto her shoulder, she began to cry.
Chapter Six:
Enter the Dollhouse
The Shadow that called himself Day came into the room a moment later, “What did you do to her?”
Mordecai grunted and took a deep drag of his blunt, “I did not do a damn thing. She is so fucked up on narcotics that she is going to have one hell of a cooling off period. Sorry, doll, no drugs here.”
Day was unamused, “Mordecai. You cannot tell her that while you are smoking marijuana right in front of her.”
Mordecai shrugged, “Weed is not a drug. Plus, you got it for me, topside. That is not my fault.”
I was fighting every urge to stay on the ground. Waves of nausea were pulsing through me though I had nothing in my stomach to heave. It was worse than hell.
“She will be fine, Day. I told her the truth.”
“And what truth did you tell her?”
“Oh, you know. The usual. This is not a delusion. This is not a drug trip. You are going to die-”
Day’s shadow deepened with disapproval, “you told her what?” His voice, if you call it a voice, boomed.
Mordecai snubbed out the roach, “I’m sorry, Day. You know the rules. Can’t tell a lie or I will surely die. One statement of falsehood said, and you will be surely dead. Fucking witches. If I had known that marrying Cassandra would have given me her curse, I would have remained a very sexy bachelor in the Hollows until the end of time.”
They talked over me as my stomach felt like knives were being run through my gut, doing everything short of passing out to stop myself from whimpering. Sevens entered the room a moment later, noticed me on the floor, and curled up next to me, laying its hands on my back to soothe me. I tried to swallow, but my throat burned something fierce. My lips were chapped and blistered from the cold. And, in that moment, lying on the concrete floor inches away from my vomit, I did not think dying was such a bad thing.
“You are not allowed to speak a lie. I understand that. But, you do not have to tell her the things that will break her.”
Mordecai’s shadow extended as he stood up, covering me, “Do not tell me the rules. I was here long before the labyrinth, long before the Hollows, and long before your shadow.”
“You are the way you are because of your deceit. Changing your name does not change your nature, Loki.”
Silence fell upon the room with hostile intent. For a few moments, nothing could be heard aside from the chattering of my teeth and the whistle of the wind from just outside the stone walls.
“Do not use that name around me ever again. That was long ago. I would have hoped that you, of all people, would want to understand the desperation to change.”
Day’s shadow stood tall, towering over the fat man, “Loki, you can never change. You were as deceitful in your truth to Serenity now as you were when you created Norse Mythology just to feed on the confusion and desperation it caused. You deceived towns, cities, and nations with nothing but a flick of your tongue. The witch was the only thing to change your tune, but not the fraud behind your tongue.”
Mordecai spoke in a soft anger that shook the floors and quaked the gut, “I welcomed the witch just as I’ve welcomed this new life. Not like some shadows which learn their lesson far too late, dissipating when the light turns on.”
Day was angry. No, that was not it. Reproachful? This was hard. His simple emotions were easily understood, but this was something else. A mixture of regret, anger, sadness, and apologetic.
Finally, Day conceded, “I am sorry, Mordecai. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive my arrogance and accept my sincere apology.”
The man of truth sat back in his chair with his shoulders slouched, “I wish things would change as much as you do, Day. But, I will not transform who I am just because it would help someone else. Sometimes being honest and true to oneself is the tough love others need most.” His hand motioned to me still in sweats on the floor.
I felt Day nod as the walls began to close in.
Day and Mordecai seemed unshaken, undisturbed, as the room shrank. The light dimmed to near perfect dark, illuminating just the door that I wanted, no, needed to get to. My chest hurt with every pound of my heart. Before Day could make a comment on my anxiety, I pushed up from the floor and went through the door, closely followed by Sevens as if by instinct.
The cold air was both welcomed and hated.
“Wait!” I heard as I slammed the door behind me.
I turned back to the sound to a closed off wall, brick layered by brick with not door or hint of the entryway.
The alleyway that bent and turned down endless roads were different than when she entered. This time, aside from the wall behind her, the walls were lined with single, dark red doors spread out every five feet. No door leads to the same place twice, she remembered. She wanted to hit herself for her brash actions and leaving them behind. But now, with Sevens at her side, curiosity began to dig.
Taking a step forward, Sevens went out in front of me and attempted to push me back up against the wall.
“He’s obviously not going to come out behind me, Sevens, and I don’t want to stay alone in an alley in hopes that he’ll come along. I’m not a damsel in distress and he’s not my savior. If this is all in my head, then it won’t matter if I stay or go. If it’s real, which I’m starting to think it might be, then staying here is the most dangerous thing I can do.”
Seven’s shook his head violently.
“Either come with me, if you want me safe or get out of my way and stay here for Day. It’s up to you,” I said walking past him with my hand on his shoulder. It took a moment, but I smiled when I heard his many feet slapping the ground behind me. Without him, I might go crazy. Which is weird, because he, himself, is a fucked-up creature of crazy. So, what does that tell you about me?
I took the first right down a connecting alley. By now they all looked the same. The same dark color, putrid walls, and lined with deteriorating red doors. It began to eat away at me that the only light I could see by was an unseen illumination caused not by stars or by bulbs. It was as if my eyes were a feline’s, coated and cut to see in the dark, though murky. But, unlike the fuzzy walls and fuzzy ceilings, the door was worn but bright, almost glowing.
“Do not open the doors. Get lost. Talk too many. Find a stranger-”
“Why should I not open the doors? They supposedly go to different places, maybe one of them leads back to Day. It’s logical to try to go through them; it’s how we got here, isn’t it?”
What’s the harm? I thought to myself. My stomach cramps were my answer. I knew it could be worse than I was letting on, but I didn’t care. To me, anything was better than where I had been. The only thing I could think of what moving forward.
A red door was in front of me. I did not remember how I got to this specific one, or how I came to be standing so close to it. I wasn’t even sure how many winding paths I took to get there. All I knew was that my hand was reaching for the tarnished golden knob.
Not knowing what to expect from the other side would have, should have, given a normal person pause. But, as I wrenched the door open and pushed it forward, there was no hesitation. I was cautious enough not to step through the threshold, peering in to take a look at the surroundings.
I was surprised to find absolutely nothing. The room was black, cloaked in the dark. If there was something inside, I sure as hell couldn’t see it, nor was I dumb enough to go prodding around. Shrugging, I closed the door and kept walking until I felt compelled to open another.
The door itself looked the same. As a matter of fact, it looked exactly the same. The same tarnished handle, the same scrapes and markings on the door, everything was identical.
The creek from the hinges as the door opened was different, though. It was louder and more menacing, and so was what was inside. A man stood on the other side of the room, well over seven feet tall. He donned makeup, caked on with white and red with diamonds over the eyes. His clothes looked like a plastic onesie with a bloodied floral pattern. He stood stoic, unmoving. Not breathing, with his head just slightly to the side in twisted curiosity.
“Are you serious? That’s the best you can do? I mean, for real. A clown? Please, I’ve seen scarier things tucked away in the whorehouse off West Road,” I said rolling my eyes and shutting the door.
Sevens shook violently.
“Don’t be scared, Sevens. I’m right here with you,” I smiled and stroked the skin at the large knot behind his head that seemed to calm him down instantaneously.
One of his limbs grasped my wrist as I turned to walk away, it pulled me tightly back to the door. There was a scratching on the other side like a whisper of something beyond the door. The scratching got louder and more desperate.
Then it spoke, “Is there anyone there?” the crying girl pleaded in a sobbing whisper.
I reflexively reached for the door handle.
At the far end of the wall squatted a child, whimpering and wet. She wore a torn hoodie and sweat pants that looked slightly too small for her body. Her feet were bloody and her hair was a mess. She couldn’t have been older than ten.
“Hey, it’s ok,” I said, taking a step towards the door.
The sobbing got louder, “Is there anyone there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Are you alright?”
From across the room, the sobbing’s volume increased. Something was off, well, more off than what was normal around here. The sobbing felt echoed and distant though the child couldn’t have been more than ten feet from me, huddled against the back wall. The cries echoed louder, even as she was talking.
Sob. “Is there anyone there?” Sob.
The child stood up abruptly and turned around, quicker than she should have been able to. Much quicker. Her head was still down and her hair obscuring any visual I could get of her face.
“Is there anyone there?” She said, the sobs gone.
When she looked up, Sevens screamed.
Her eyes were not there. Replaced with holes where the eye sockets should be, blood running like single tears down the center of each cheek. The girls head tilted, much like the clown’s, in an intense and twisted curiosity. When she smiled, I saw meat dangling from her mouth. And I saw missing skin from her knees. She was not bent down and crying; she had been chewing.
“Is there anyone there?”
I didn’t move.
“Oh,” She whispered, “there you are.” And with that, she flung her body towards the door.
It took all my strength and courage not to be paralyzed with shock. I lunged forward and snapped the door close just as she was within reaching distance. Once the door was shut, the scratching started once more.
“Well, it is official. I am never listening to your opinion on which door I should open ever again,” I said looking down at him, “ever.”
What is wrong with me? I asked myself. That should have given me a heart attack. Hell, it should have almost killed me. At the least, it should have left me paralyzed or breathing hard. But, nothing. Yet, I knew it felt wrong to not feel anything. That is something, at least. Crazy people often don’t know they are crazy, but what do you call the crazy people who are fully aware of their psychosis?
“The doors will disappear at the moment you feel fear. They are a snare to catch those unaware. They feed when your heart rate increases, only then does the amount of doors decrease.”
I whipped around to see a striking lady standing there, smiling. Standing there in the night, her skin shone like a pale glow contrast to her ruby red hair and matching red dress that mirrored perfectly to the color of her red-lined lips. Her teeth were too straight. Her face was too symmetrical. Her perfect ears and her perfect legs and her all too perfect posture. It all felt wrong.
