by GR Griffin
Vail reached out to grab the colourful monster. “NOT SO FAST.”
Roy turned just in time to see the humongous hands closing in from both directions; those fingers clawed to crush him. He kept his course, to where he could catch Fleck. Closer the hands got, cupping around him. He had one shot here. Timing was everything.
The time came when the fingers touched.
He changed his path, banking down. The fingers closed, as did the palms. The gaps getting smaller.
Roy took the plunge of his rainbow and jumped down and out just as hands cupped tight. The streak fizzled against Vail’s palms, making him think he had caught Roy. It wasn’t until he spotted another curving beam of light travelling downwards did he realise that he had missed.
The colourful monster zoomed under Fleck and caught them with his magic trail and carved across the air with Fleck sliding on the track in his wake. Both the wide walkway and the ice axe fell into darkness, followed a moment later with a small crash.
Roy turned near the threshold to the next tunnel and dropped the kid off, taking an extra second to confirm that the human was on their feet.
“You go on ahead.” Roy glanced back, already swaying toward the expanse. “I’ll keep him busy.”
Before Fleck could return a single word – whether it be a word of praise or an act of objection – Roy was up and charging toward Vail. He zigzagged in every direction and fired more shots without taking the time to aim. Perhaps he expected a glorious battle of David versus Goliath, except this Goliath was not reacting to the stones being hurled at his head.
Fleck stood idly below. Their heart sank when they realised that Vail wasn’t bothered with Roy at all, instead keeping his lizard eyes focused squarely on them and them alone.
“YOU WON’T ESCAPE FROM ME THAT EASILY,” he said as he chugged his titan frame toward the human.
Fleck faced the tunnel ahead and persuaded their body to move. They dashed through, feeling Vail’s overwhelming presence looming on their back. The way ahead banked upwards and to the right – perhaps re-joining the path they were on previously.
The chasm they had left behind groaned under the giant’s mass before that same sound chased Fleck down the tunnel. That did not sound good and it forced the human child to whip a quick look over their shoulder. Now they had every reason to believe that it wasn’t good as one mega grey claw squeezed down the narrow channel, after them.
Fleck snapped their head straight in front and ran faster. The massive hand about to grab them was not the focus. Focus too much on that and they would fail. Escape. If nothing else, get away as fast as they could. The pushed their legs so hard they couldn’t feel them. The claw reached closer and closer for them; the sounds getting louder; its essence impossible to ignore. Supports toppled. Crystals broke against callous knuckles.
In their peripheral vision, they spotted the two fingertips above.
The fingers dropped. Fleck turned sideways and dove between them. Vail’s digits dug into the ground and cracked the cold stone as it searched for his prey.
Fleck scrambled themself up and continued running. They got a few steps until they realised that the hand was no longer chasing them, but clawing around the inside, trying to snag something that wasn’t there. It generated a scene in Fleck’s mind that Vail had his entire arm in the hole, all the way to the shoulder.
“Slippery snail…” Vail booming voice was muffled through all that thick rock, enough to make it easy on their ears. His hand retracted back down the tunnel, leaving a trail of destruction in his path. “I’ll find you after I deal with Mister Biv back here.”
Oh, no, Roy. He didn’t stand a chance against the one who ruled this island. Fleck had to suppress the feeling to rush back out there. Both he and Versa were counting on them… if the two were still alive.
By now, their feet hurt and a place or two had started to rub. Their entire back was red hot and slick with sweat from the rucksack, and the straps dug tight into their collar so that their arms were going numb. What they wouldn’t give for a warm bath.
Everything was falling apart before their eyes. Everything going crazy; this entire place was one big, demented nuthouse.
And yet, somehow, they were still breathing and moving forward.
Somewhere, sometime, another version of themself would have given up so much more easily, knowing that they had a save file to fall back on and unlimited chances to get it right.
There was no point in them trying, but they did it anyway. The last time the felt determined was at the foot of Ice Island, with the Plain-plain and the escalators behind them, and the foot of the mountain and a mystery a ways ahead. Despite going through that whole ordeal on the train, they felt so much more fresh and rejuvenated.
The pack held more yet felt lighter, and the chill in the breeze was more prevalent. Fleck inhaled a sharp, cold lungful through the nose, freezing the tiny hairs in the nostrils, and breathed out a cloud of white from the mouth. They looked at the other paths, remembering the one they took. How much differently would things have gone had they walked a different route? Had Kenny not stumbled upon them? Had Vail not found them by chance?
The secrets within Ice Island were no longer a secret at that point in time; they had discovered them the hard way. Fleck knew what awaited them down this route. The trick had been revealed; the surprise was no longer a surprise; and the bombshell had been dropped. Or, at least, the reveal, the surprise, and the drop were to be done so in ten minutes’ time.
Standing there, at the foot of the escalators, they had all the chances to back out, to find another way. Too late.
They savoured this moment of peace, knowing that it was going to be pulled away.
With one blink, they were back in the belly of Black Ice Mountain. The steel coloured sky replaced with iron coloured walls. Their moment of respite over.
Fleck had no choice but to march. Perhaps Roy could buy them a few sweet minutes of freedom from Vail’s persistence, enough to do or find something. They well and truly wished they knew what that something was.
Oh great, another blind corner. Why was it that the worst things within this maze lay behind corners? A thousand possibilities filtered through their mind as they approached. Another mine cart. More of Vail’s so-called friends. Vail himself. Of course, there could always be more tunnel, more opportunity to squeeze as many steps into today as possible.
What they found, they did not expect in the slightest.
Ten metres away, a wall of painted white bricks blocked the way, with a single white door built in the centre, complete with a doormat at its foot. No windows. It was a front wall straight from those pristine houses in the suburbs where the air always smelled like freshly cut grass and the laughing of children playing were audible from three gardens over.
Gingerly, Fleck moved closer to the door, expecting it to swing open at any second, hearing nothing from the other side.
The doormat had elegant, sophisticated writing stitched into it in black:
Welcome, Fleck, to Casa de Vail.
Please, do come in.
Back up to the entrance – the front door to Vail’s casa, apparently. They were here, on his very own doorstep, the belly of the beast. And he both knew it and anticipated it. The single doorknob brimmed as if eager for the human to turn it.
Fleck didn’t think so. They turned and headed back the way they came.
As they rounded the corner, that was when they knew that Vail had them. Fleck stomped the ground with one angry outburst.
The exact same white wall, white door, and mat awaited them; the length of tunnel they travelled gone without as much as a squeak.
Now the doormat read:
You seriously want to play this rodeo again?
Fleck went rigid; every muscle tensed, starting from their toes and ending in their fingers. They just wanted this nightmare to end already, to wake up in their bed and eat butterscotch cinnamon pie and water the flowers in the garden and forget all a
bout the Outerworld and Vail and Zeus and the price that lay upon their head.
The frustration subsided faster that it sparked. After all their sieving, it changed nothing. The door was still there, and the polished brass doorknob was shinier than ever.
Sighing out their frustration, they walked forward with more reluctance in each step than met the next. The prickly fibres of the mat rumpled upon taking their weight. The coldness of the metal knob pierced through the thick wool of their gloves. With the smoothest turn, the door clicked and swung open.
The first thing Fleck felt was the draft of a terrible chill – well around sub-zero temperatures. They entered, folding their arms against their chest to keep their own heat inside. Their breath came out in thick puffs of white.
Only one room lay within the white wall. Everywhere was covered in ice, from the floor to the ceiling. The entire place was one giant freezer – an icebox – yet there stood a velvet red lounge chair, a comfy sofa, a pool table, a jukebox, a massive flat screen television, a chess board, and a fridge, all of which were spotless without a speck of ice on them.
In the room were a few large ice cubes; Fleck counted seven of them. One was at an angle on the lounge chair, two wedged on the sofa, two around the pool table, one beside the jukebox, and the last one was alone at the chess board, before sixteen white-painted pieces. Within the cubes were bizarre shapes that they could not make out, as if there was something inside them.
Fleck recalled what happened to Kenny and clicked that instant the contents of those blocks of ice.
Seven monsters. All frozen. Kenny was the one resting on the seat. He still bore that wide-eyed, absolute fear expression.
With a loud slam, the door shut by itself. Fleck would have rushed over and attempted to escape, but they just knew that would be pointless. The door would be locked, and if it wasn’t, it would send them back into this room.
They snapped their head around, taking in all the captives in this freezing room. The temperature must have guaranteed that they all remained in suspended reality. All of them odd and clearly different, noticeable beneath the ice. All seven bore the permanent expression of terror. Fleck could only hope that Vail wasn’t lying when he said they were sleeping.
As they fell upon the chess table – speak of the devil – he who they did not want to see was sat opposite the champagne bottle monster put on ice. He was hunched over the board, observing the pieces from their level.
Vail dangled his hand over his pieces and wriggled the fingers. “Usually, it’s the white pieces that go first, but Nico here’s been contemplating his first move for the last five years now.” He glanced at the chess clocks. His was still at zero. Nico’s had been ticking away for five years. “Let’s assume his turn’s expired.”
He plucked the pawn on B7 and moved it forward two places.
“Alright,” Vail remarked to Nico’s silence as he sat up straight, bracing his hands on his waist, “I’ll give you time to plan your next move. Another five years ought to do it.”
He pushed himself out of the chair and wasted no time addressing Fleck.
“Congratulations, you found my home, and you’ve met these people – Kenny I’m sure you’re already familiar with. These are what I like to call the… difficult ones. If you thought you’d made a breakthrough with that water trick, you’re sorely mistaken. These monsters, time and again, keep breaking out of their dream worlds. Until I figure out a way to stop that, they make great listeners.”
“You like video games? All kids love video games – and tee vee, and their phones, and texting, and texting on their phones. Anyway, imagine your adventure as progressing through the levels, and I guess that makes me the final boss. If you want to leave, you going to have to go through me.”
Vail began to windmill his arms. “Allow me to limber myself out a bit.” He tilted his head left and right, warming up his neck with a few cracks. “Don’t want to pull a muscle.” He balanced himself on one leg and shook the other. “Always warm up before doing strenuous exercise, just as the doctor ordered.” He switched legs. “And now she’s living the dream as a professional wrestler. Literally. Who would’ve thought?”
Fleck had their remaining ice axe ready. It might as well have been made of ice since how much it chilled their hands. They hoped that he would do nothing but shake around for all eternity so they didn’t have to fight him.
Sadly, such hope was poorly placed. Vail finished his warmup.
“Okay, now I’m ready.” He began to hop and punch the air like a boxer raring to go. “And now, folks, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: the battle of the century. In this corner stands the illustrator of illusions; the perception of deception; the trick without the shtick; the chill with the skill; thirty-two time champion of the Outerworld: Vail!”
He raised his arms, howled, and gave a moment for his due applause. The audience were so captivated that they forgot to cheer.
Vail continued anyway. “And in this corner,” he said, gesturing to them, “Fleck.”
Fleck could not help but be disappointed by that, by how meek their narration was compared to his. How awesome could their stage entrance be?
And his opponent: the foundation of determination: the salvation of a nation; the narration in pacification; the sensation in flirtation; the one, the only: Fleck! Followed by the child with the shaggy hair and striped sweater jumping up and down for a few seconds, hollering and waving to the clicking camera flashes.
“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” Vail rung an invisible bell. “Ding, ding, ding, its round one.”
He wasted no more time. He thrust a finger toward the ground and beamed a blue laser. The line of water exploded upwards toward Fleck, each one freezing in a split-second. Fleck stood their ground and waited. Just as a pillar erupted and froze before them, they jumped to the side, slammed the axe into it, and swung themself forward, sliding across the ice toward Vail.
They wished this could be resolved differently, but right there, Fleck could see no other alternative. They’d have to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.
Fleck jumped and went to kick Vail in the stomach. Before it could connect, he vanished in a puff of smoke. Fleck landed and immediately turned around, finding him standing there.
Vail pointed again, this time at Fleck, and fired off another blue beam. Fleck swung the axe and deflected the beam straight up. It hit the ceiling and formed an instant crop of icicles. Vail followed up with a hard stomp on the ground, shaking the entire room with a jolt. The icicles jangled then came loose, falling toward them. Fleck dove to the side, hearing ice shatter like glass behind them.
Before they could get their bearings, the komodo dragon appeared before them. He opened his mouth and blew a powerful wind at Fleck, pushing them back. They reacted quickly by driving the axe into the ground and routing themself in that spot. The air lashed against them, draining the heat from their body and pulling against their clothes. Minty fresh, by the way.
After a minute of battling the wind, Vail stopped. Fleck yanked the axe out of the ground as both the feeling and heat poured back into them. Their fingers were numb from holding the handle so tight. The human breathed hard, yet the other had no shortage of breath considering the amount he had dispensed non-stop for a full minute.
He chuckled.
All of a sudden, Vail widened his eyes and flashed an intensely bright spark. The snap struck the child hard in the retina, blinding them and bringing a wave of pain to the inside of their skull. Fleck stumbled and rubbed their eyes with their free hand, the other still around the axe’s handle. They tried to open them. Each brief glimpse through the opening was pure white and painful, forcing them shut again.
They heard a shrill buzzing noise from their left: one of Vail’s ice beams. They ran forward a few paces and rammed headfirst into a flat, cold surface.
They composed themself in time to catch a second shot from behind. Blindly, they pulled the axe up and felt it
recoil almost out of their grasp.
Fleck heard another beam from the right. Working the ice axe with both hands, they brazenly swung it in that direction.
Shunk!
What they felt next from their weapon was not what they expected. There was no recoil, but a strike. The axe head had hit something, sank deep into whatever it was and stayed there.
Finally, Fleck tried their eyes again and found they could open them without pain.
Fleck stopped breathing. Their muscles froze, then began to tremble.
The axe was stuck deep in Vail’s chest.
He glanced down and sputtered. “Oh god…” Vail stumbled back, taking the axe with him. He sank to his knees, coughing and gasping for air as he gripped the cold steel. Pain filled his eyes. “What did… you do… Fleck…?”
Fleck covered their mouth and rapidly shook their head. They didn’t mean to do that, they couldn’t see. It was an accident.
He turned his head to the ceiling and reached up with one hand. “How could I have been… so easily… defeated?” Gurgling a pathetic, pained scream, Vail crumpled to the ground, groaning an audible, “Blarg,” as he exhaled his final breath.
He crumbled to dust. There was nothing left beside his grey, ashen remains and the glint of silver still embedded within.
Fleck fell to their knees and started crying. They had just murdered that monster and all that dust was on their hands. They didn’t want to be a killer, the very thought made them want to vomit. How could they ever look Asgore and Toriel in the eyes again, knowing the life they had taken?
Through burning vision, they gazed back over at the pile of ash. There was a monster standing beside it.
The sight of that monster stopped Fleck’s sobbing in an instant.
It was… Vail? His clone? His twin brother?
He looked down at the pile of ash that was himself moments ago. “Man,” he said to Fleck, smiling, “I’d hate to be that guy.”
The sadness had left Fleck, replaced by confusion bigger than Black Ice Mountain. Vail was perfectly fine. No axe sticking out of his torso.
