Halloween 2020: Choose Your Spooky Outcome: Chapter 11
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Punching might be the right move in many a situation, but against a horde of shadow monsters rising out of mirrors, probably not the tactic to bet on. Jim’s idea makes a bit more sense, at least it involves a barrier between all of you and the attackers. Unfortunately, it doesn’t offer much in terms of a solution, even if the you’re able to hold the monsters back, there is a time limit at play. In the end, you decide Victoria is right. Every other time you’ve finished a task in The Between, it’s dumped you back on the road. That makes it the best escape plan you can think of.
“Let’s all run,” you suggest. Even knowing the way ahead might lead to salvation, you detest the idea of leaving your friends in danger. “We can get ahead of them and finish this out together.”
“Enviable as I find your optimism, it’s a poor strategy.” Victoria is moving backward, eyes on the shapes bubbling out of the broken glass. They still resemble the ones that were taunting here, only now the claws and fangs are in three-dimensions. The fear in her eyes is gone, however. She’s looking at them as nothing more than momentary obstacles, a far more familiar expression. “We’ll fall back with you, using the doorway as a funnel. If we limit their ability to overwhelm us, our stalling time increases substantially.”
“At least mine is too huge to make it through.” Jim tosses a middle finger in the direction of a shadowy chimera that is forming over to the left. At his words, the shadows tear apart, creating smaller versions of the same monster. “Oh you cheating sack of shit. The hell with it, I’m going to punch you in that disgusting snout.” With a quick glance over your shoulder, Jim gives a thumbs-up, even as he’s pulling what look like brass-knuckles from a suit pocket. “Run ahead, time for CEO Tiger-Dick to crash the stocks.”
Sliding his fake lion skin to the side of one shoulder, Thad stretches his arms, staring down the equally muscular forms rising from his own mirror shards. They look quite similar to your brother, though not quite the same, clamoring to their feet with halting, unsteady steps. “I get it, you don’t want to bail, but this isn’t abandoning your friends. This is you trusting us to buy time, and us trusting you to find a solution. Now hurry up already, these things are only growing more solid.”
Everyone backs toward you as the shadows move in closer, there’s no more time to waver. With one last look, you leap through the door, followed soon after by Thad, Jim, and Victoria. The moment of everyone turning to flee is apparently exactly what the shadows were waiting for, already a cacophony of screeches and howls are booming through the cave, quickly joined by the sounds of combat. Much as you want to turn back, it would waste the very time that your friends are fighting for.
Racing through the cave, your eyes are struck by the strange shapes woven into the rocky walls. Claws, wings, faces, so many images etched into the stone, one atop the other, like an evolving tapestry. In only your brief glance, you see more than the mind can possibly process. Whatever this place is, it’s unstable.
Even the air seems off, too dense, especially for a subterranean lair. Movement quickly catches your eye, and you brace for battle, only to realize it’s merely a trick of the light. Wait… light? So far, you’ve been able to see in the same way you bumbled around the rest of The Between, counting on the strange way things were visible even in darkness. But this isn’t a minor visual enchantment, actual light is flickering off the walls.
Moving carefully, all too aware that every danger may not lay behind you, you follow the cave wall around a short curve. The sight before you sends all thoughts of caution and stealth out the window, as you gaze, awestruck in wonder at what you’ve stumbled upon.
Eyes watering slightly from the brightness, you stare on all-the-same at what looks like a waterfall made of light. At the top and bottom of the cave are holes, and through it flows the… you don’t even have the words to describe the torrent of light. Crashing, breaking, folding in on itself. It’s impossible to tell if the flow is moving up, down, or merely twisting in place. Your brain begs to get lost in the lovely show forever, except as your eyes adjust, the image is changing.
More details come into view, flickers of figures, moments of movement, snippets of stories other than your own. The torrent isn’t light, or isn’t just light at least. This is what The Between promised, in both name and reputation. A path to walk the ways between worlds, a portal to lands otherwise lost. Staring at it, you know deep down that with the right phrase upon your lips, anything or place across the vast chasms of all existence could be within your grasp.
But since you don’t actually have the required knowledge to pull that off, the temptation is minimal. Sounds from behind you finally break the torrent’s spell, a sharp reminder that the others are counting on you. To do what, you haven’t really the foggiest, however standing in one place sure isn’t helping them.
Each step closer brings more and more flashes from the torrent into view, greater numbers than your mind can drink in. Too chaotic, too mashed up, you’re unable to separate details out of the noise. Another foot nearer, and you start to wonder if your mind can even withstand the pain of what’s happening. It feels like your very head might crack open.
Regardless, you keep walking forward. It’s like there’s something calling to you, a voice you can almost hear over the noise. Maybe it will pop your head like an over-ripe melon, maybe blood will come pouring out of your nose and mouth as your brain shuts down, hell, maybe you’ll just drop peacefully as an aneurysm swings the scythe. You don’t care, one more death on the pile barely buried in your brain means so little at this point. Except, they aren’t feeling quite so buried at the moment.
Memories are bubbling up, images of your own endings that haven’t been so clear since you had electrical current racing through your synapses. A distraction, nothing else. Your feet press on, closing the final few inches. By gripping a large stalagmite near the bottom hole’s edge, you anchor yourself just enough to be capable of reaching out and touching the torrent. What that will do, to you, to your world, you can scarcely begin to guess. But your friends are in danger, you worked like hell to get here, and an itch in your brain refuses to even entertain the idea of giving up.
Everything you’ve done tonight has led to this moment. Hand reaching out, your fingers begin to brush the edge of the storming chaos. The watcher told you to be careful what you called, because the wrong thing could very much answer. So whatever you say next, better pick it carefully.
Hey everyone, Drew here. I wanted to remind you all that green polls, like the one below, are choices that can change the very nature of this story, such as when Thad joined the cast. Results are also hidden, because while working together is encouraged, peeking at others’ answers lessens the fun.
Good luck!