Chapter 11: Acrophobia. (Patreon)

Chapter 11: Acrophobia.

‘Stupid. How are you this stupid. Of course it was a trap. What did you expect? A hug and a kiss? Promises of brotherhood? Do you think this is a comic book or a movie? That we’re all going to get along and serve the kidnappers their comeuppance?’

That part was bad enough. The truth that I’d almost gained compatriots made it a thousand times worse.

‘I was so close. I was so (Centipede)ing close, to having teammates. To having a healer around.’

My fists were clenched with barely suppressed rage as my head throbbed.

‘At least, at least I didn’t kill them. That’s the one silver lining in all this. My parents would be proud.’

Eventually, the adrenaline wavered and the fatigue came back with a vengeance. My chest was heaving up and down like that of the Illusion. The air seemed to burn my lungs as it came in. Too hot and too humid for my liking.

‘Wait. Hot and humid?’

The caverns had been damp, but chilly just a few moments ago. Though time had blurred as I fled. This section held a warmth that had been missing before. Its walls had more space between them and they were more uniform, though a few still bore messages carved into them. Its ceiling was higher and decorated with glinting crystals and gems of all shapes and sizes, illuminating the area in place of mushrooms. Between them, were large deposits of gold, speckled with stone and waiting to be mined.

‘How long was I running? Where even is this? What kind of imbecile traps people in a gold mine.’

Looking closer, there were enough precious minerals here to make any mining tycoon green with envy. Just a single section of a single wall might be enough to make me a multi-millionaire.

Belatedly, I considered fashioning a pick and trying to retrieve a fistful of gold, before I slapped myself back to reality.

“You just escaped an ambush. You idiot. You have to keep moving. If she really was a Telepath, she’ll have a [Mental Map] of her own. That, and a pet Shifter to heal her and sniff you out. Keep moving.”

In truth, that was easier said than done.

There were no other paths here but forward and every twenty steps brought a noticeable increase in temperature. Before long, I was sweating profusely and considered turning back.

‘No. They’ll have shaken off the [Fever] by now and they won’t make the same mistake twice. They’ll kill me as soon as they see me.’

It would have to be this way, since death was behind me. Whatever miracle allowed me to slip past them so easily would probably not help a second time. Not when she could snipe with [Mental Bolts] of her own. Not to mention the scythes on the Shifter.

I felt a shiver running through me once more but bit my lip and forced myself onward.

My map continues to grow, as I fight new and interesting critters. Snails with golden shells that fall from the ceiling and float in mid-air while launching bolts of fire from their eyes, chameleons that tried to hide by taking on the hues of rocks and gemstones, brown beetles that created piercing shrieks with the buzzing of their wings.

Once, I even encountered a puma with red and silver fur that leapt up from a pitfall trap so obvious that I’d originally looked for smaller, hidden traps around it, suspecting a double layered trick.

None had any kind of counter to my tried-and-true tactic of hiding, escaping and siccing them against each other.

The snails hated the beetles and the beetles hated the snails right back. One side would sear the wings and exoskeleton off the other while their enemies would shatter the shells with their sonic blasts. Victory often went to those with larger numbers or whomever struck first.

The chameleons almost never got involved unless the winner was heavily wounded. In such cases, a barbed tongue would shoot forward and impale the survivors one by one. Then they quickly retreated while their hapless victims twitched and faltered from the venom. Sending out a few final strikes in defiance.

When that was done, the sneaky opportunists would simply walk right in, bite whatever remained and slurp all bodily fluids into their gullet. All appeared entirely too please with themselves afterwards.

Until I deployed my own abilities from the relative safety of a corner or large boulder blocking the way.  Then they chirped and squealed in outrage. Dismayed by someone else using those tactics against them. 

It was so effective that I was starting to suspect I was being lured into a false sense of security on purpose.

In that, I was proven right, as the long hallway eventually led to an opening, similar to the one the inquisition guys had found.

There, in front of me, was a bridge of stone and smoky crystal. It looked to be 12 metres wide and goodness only knows how long. Potent gales blew dust and debris from the lower layers of the chasm, momentarily blinding me and forcing me back. Another, more careful inspection performed on all fours revealed other bridges below and above me, connecting other tunnels in differing elevations.

The whole environment was very well-lit, in stark contrast to other sections of the labyrinth. Floating rivers of solid light hang from the walls, entangling themselves on surfaces below and above me.

Between them fly schools of brass, bronze and red fish. Swimming through the air as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Onix sharks floated near them, sometimes rushing the groups for a bit and dispersing the crowds. Even those great beasts broke and ran whenever one of the white seahorses turned in their directions. There were only three, but they were nothing less than gargantuan. Easily 40 or 50 metres long from tail to head.

At one point, a shark had been to slow to react and the middle seahorse shot a devastating beam of light from its snout. The laser disintegrated the shark completely and then went on to burn into one of the ramparts on the far side. The wound bled hot molten lava. Liquid death that swirled and danced in the air instead of falling down.

As for the drop itself…

There’s no bottom. None that I can see anyway. Any potential fall would presumably stretch on for a disturbingly long time.

Now, I consider myself a reasonable individual, despite all the risks I’ve taken.

I firmly believe that every decision I’ve made could be justified by my circumstances at the time. Even something as attacking people can be excused since they tried to kill me first.

The reason I bring all of this up is that I’m bothered by the definition of a phobia.

Supposedly, it refers to an irrational fear. A worry that eats away at someone and is labelled as a mental health condition. With that in mind, I find it very offensive that people classify a fear of heights as one of those.

Why, I honestly struggle to come up with a more reasonable fear to have than that of high places. Its perfectly reasonable to be mortified when a casual slip could see me deader than the puma the snails had roasted.

‘Yes. I’m not the problem.’ I think to myself. ‘The bridge is the problem. I mean, it doesn’t even have handrails. What kind of loon would take this kind of risk.’

It was then that one of the lower bridges exploded.

From there, two figures jumped up, wreathed in flames and carried by the force of the blast. They should have dropped like stones. Falling to a painful clumsy death.

Instead, they kept going. Flying like a pair of very ugly rockets. Landing upon the wall opposite me with a thunderous crash.

I expected them to burst like melons. Instead, they had created circular impressions on the stones, fissures opening up at the edges. From beneath, a fourth giant seahorse rose, changing in coloration from white to orange to red.

Energy crackled in its mouth and eyes.

Both were glowing.

“For Humanity! For the Shepherd!” One of the figures cried.

“For the Skull Bashers!” Cried the other.

The both of them leapt in opposite directions at once, past schools of floating fish and sharks, with no regard for their well being. As they soared, I couldn’t help but note how incredible the scene was. That, and how dead I’d be if I were in their place.

‘I guess that’s Enhancers for you. In a league of their own. Oh my goodness. What I wouldn’t give to be like them. Wait. Are those actually humans?’

It was a very good question. Even from this distance, the two looked sort of human, in that they had similar proportions. However, no normal person could be so…

Large. Not unless they were a Shifter and these were clearly Enhancers. These looked more like ogres. Flying ogres dressed up in thick furs and carrying bone clubs and axes.

“I swear if there are people down here with two Types, I’m going to find the one responsible and strangle them with their own belt.”

Another seahorse joined the fight. Interposing itself between the female sounding ogre and the bridge she had aimed herself at.

That was its last mistake.

The great pale axe fell and the giant was split open. Bloody innards spilling out in showers of gore. The rest of the creatures took note and bellowed in rage. A chorus that was half a song and half a scream. They too started changing colour.

They, and the bridges. Including the one I was standing on right now.

My heart began beating so fast, I thought it might burst from my chest. I was frozen stiff just like the first time I’d seen a centipede. Once more, the voice started talking. Wild Solomon, trying to keep me alive.

‘Move.’

“No.”

‘No? Why not?’

“Because there is absolutely no way in all of creation, that I’m taking one step out into certain death. No way at all.”

‘Those two are flying like its nobody’s business.’

“They’re mad.” I said to no one in particular. “Those two must be off their rocker before coming here. What kind of fool throws themselves into the open air? It must be even worse now. All that power’s gone straight to their heads. They feel invincible.”

That was bad freaking news. If Greek tragedies had taught humanity anything is that Hubris came down hard on people who thought they were too good for everybody else. Worse, those exceptional fellows had an uncanny tendency to drag people down with them. Even if they were only bystanders.

People like me.

A strong gale came from below, as if on cue. The bridge’s shine dimmed and its structure crumbled.

I plummeted. Icarus falling on waxen wings.

100 metres.

200 metres.

500 metres.

800 metres.

Screaming all the way down.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

My hands wrapped themselves around nothing as I flailed my arms.

It was of no use.

My throat grew hoarse from shouting.

I lost time.

Vertigo is sending my mind into spirals. Insurmountable horror kept me from focusing and even the burning rush of adrenaline didn’t help.

This was something bigger than me. More ferocious. I couldn’t think clearly.

I was slipping, further and further into the gaping abyss.

This iwas different from any helplessness I’ve felt before.

The strings behind my eyes lashed out in random patterns, my subconscious grasping for anything that might help. Any sliver of hope.

[Precognition] activated.

And a whole new kind of despair enveloped me.

Scenes of Henry and Luigi and Vince. All running for their lives in their own trials.

Desperately clinging to recollections of home.

They were surrounded by bipedal crow-people.

All dressed in silks and radiant laces. Those things snap their beaks and bark out orders. Threatening to whip them if they do not perform to their standards.

Both groups come together to celebrate a festival. Humans and giant corvids draining cups of amber liquids.

In the distance, they spot a screen. A list of the lost and the dammed. All eyes bulged open. A few begin to flee at once.

In the distance, the tall man presented himself. Smiling with crooked teeth at the wanton cruelty. His hands were stained with blood and a thousand gnomes suffer for his pleasure.

He opened his mouth to speak and reality trembles. 

There was no Solomon.

There was no, me.

There was only the formless ocean and all the eyes within it.

Tainted red and green by the opening of the door.

The reckoning with the slaver and the spider.

Uncountable and infinite, drinking the very stars in perpetuity.

It all stemmed from a single creature, a single life.

Some wretched thing that used to be human. That used to be an aspiring engineer dreaming after finishing their exams.

This pest had no eyes or mouth or ears. It had no means by which to scream and curse their continued existence.

Instead, it reveled in cursing others.

Enwrapped in grief and beset by pain.

Biding its time and growing.

A parasite within the cobweb.

A leech upon reality.

 A scourge upon this universe and all the universes that have been or ever will be.

It was a grub.

Pupating and mutating into something greater.

Unlike before, I did not see all the futures. There were fewer patterns.

Fewer paths to travel.

Choices I’ve made have broken down distant outcomes, even as new possibilities rise in their place and grow prominent.

This could all be likened to a waterslide, where each droplet is a different, almost imperceptible change.

A breath taken a second earlier.

A twitch in the legs.

A final cry for salvation.

Regardless, they all flow onwards.

Deeper and deeper into the jaws of death.

Golden strings dim with every passing nanosecond, closing off potential escapes. I know what must be done. All paranoia must be banished from my psyche. That boy, yearning for a boring position after university, must die, so that I can live.

I did not feel the butcher or the slaver or the tireless metal men. They were distant worries. Storms brewing beyond the horizon.

Through it all, I remembered my goal. The token I had to get. The life I wanted to live.

For the sake of my future, I must take the gamble.

I did as the vision bade and closed my eyes. Thinking of myself as a leaf on the wind.

Time became confused.

Minutes turning into hours as I pushed out the sounds of debris, explosions, and erupting viscera. Waves of heat struck me at uneven intervals.

Cooking me from above or below, but never from both sides at once.

The wind slowed noticeably and I felt myself floating like a feather.

Later, much later. I felt the distinctive wetness of a pond engulf me up to the ears.

My landing had not been as fatal as I’d feared.

Quite the contrary in fact.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and found myself at the bottom on the pit. There, I noted a myriad of waterfalls.

Flowing upwards.

Just like the distinctively larger and darker fish that floated nearby and the enormous lobster-moles that chased after them through the air.

“Huh. Gravity’s inverted.” I noted, with a voice strained from screaming.