by Kris Shamloo
Chapter 3 – Wet
I stared at the space where the hallway had been; as if my gaze would somehow coerce it back into existence. I was stunned by the finality of it. I was always going to have to face these wells alone anyway. Why do I feel cut off? From what? From who? The feeling stuck despite the lack of explanation, for the first time since I had arrived I truly felt alone. As my mind settled I turned back towards the well. I crawled towards the lip of the well and looked down. There it is. At the bottom of the well, maybe fifty feet down, the pale green glow of the grate shimmered. I threw the two other pieces in their respective wells revealing the same thing. That's deep but it's possible.
Once again I stripped my clothing. While preparing for the first dive attempt I had another idea, I should have brought more metal... the weight would have helped me descend faster. The thought reminded me of the sealed hallway and I shuddered. I sat with my feet in the well. I drew in slow, deep breaths. I silently slid into the water and began my swim down. I felt comfortable in the water; I knew I would have no trouble making it down now that I had a visible destination.
I reached the metal grate and looked around at the bottom of the well. The stone walls terminated into the stone floor. I patiently scanned the walls of the well to find whatever I was looking for, nothing. The smooth bricks of the well were bare. I ran out of time and headed towards the surface. I recalled what I had seen at the bottom while I caught my breath. Nothing stood out to me; the only thing unusual down there was the grate that I had added. Maybe it's under the grate? Eager to test my new theory and return to the warm glass ring I hurriedly swam down to the bottom. My chest started to burn for oxygen before I was two thirds of the way down. I wasn't going to make it. My excitement had drummed up my heart rate and I was burning air much faster than normal.
Reluctantly I turned around and began my return ascent. Five feet from the surface my vision began to go dark. Don't black out, fight it, focus, concentrate. I gasped for breath when I broke the smooth surface of the water. I sat on the edge of the well defeated. What's the point? Rage filled me. I screamed aloud "What's the fucking point?" I listened to the silent indifference of the faux night sky. I was a leper with no one to hate me; it was the cold indifference of the place that got to me. I dug in my pants pocket for the statue of the weeping man. "I know how you feel." We wept together.
A short time later I had pieced myself together. The feelings of rage and despair came, were expressed, and passed. I turned back to the well. I placed the weeping man back in my pocket for safe keeping. I filled my lungs with air and returned into the water. I reached the grate and lifted up. Beneath the grate was a small recessed handle. I gripped it and lifted. The handle lifted a lid covering a small hole in the bottom of the well.
In the hole was a small shining orb. I looked at it unimpressed, that's it? I grabbed the sphere and headed to the surface. The orb was a glass ball filled with a bright red liquid. The vividness of the color was out of place in the twilight of the false stars. I gently set it down amongst my clothes.
I approached the center well. A strong sense of foreboding emanated from its icy cold water, the first well was much warmer. I ignored it and moved to the third well. The third well held the same secret as the first, only this time a radiant blue swirled inside the orb. I had retrieved it in only two dives this time. The satisfaction of retrieving the second orb was short lived. The center well loomed in my mind. I had no excuse now, the center well sat there ice cold. The only discernable difference between the first two wells was the temperature. Yet despite this the center well seemed insurmountable. I approached it with the same fear and respect one would approach a sleeping beast.
My pale reflection glimmered in the twilight of the well as I examined the grate resting on the bottom. I guess that's what I look like. My features distracted me from my objective for only a moment. Fifty feet away, distorted by the water, the grate looked just as the others had, a pale luminous speck. How long am I going to put this off? I lowered myself in; the cold had shocked me into erratic breathing. I relaxed myself and in a few short minutes was diving towards the depths of the center well.
The bottom was identical as the other two wells; I reverently lifted the last grate revealing the final stone handle. I curled my fingers around the handle. The reaction was immediate. The handle violently retracted into the bottom of the well, pulling my arm along with it. The whole length of my arm had been swallowed by the floor of the well. I let go to pull my arm out. Shit! I was too slow; a clamp instantly seized my wrist, my arm was trapped. The struggle had burnt the rest of the oxygen in my lungs, I craved air, I craved the surface. It could have been five feet away or five hundred, it wouldn't have mattered.
I looked around for any clue, a switch, a lever, something, anything to release me from the icy pit. The burning in my chest had spread to my limbs; my muscles began to contract uncontrollably. Any mental faculty I had left was being used solely to fight the relentless urge to breathe. This is it. This is how you die. My body stopped contracting; the only remaining oxygen in my blood was shunted to my brain for a few more precious seconds of life.
The clamp around my wrist let go. I desperately tried to pull my hand out fast enough but the clamp regripped. The handle! In my panicked frenzy my fingers had unknowingly clawed their way back around the stone handle. I quickly reached for it again, the clamp let go again. I pulled my arm out, still holding the handle. It slid out easily. But it was already too late; I couldn't ascend fifty feet without more air. I have to try. I planted my feet and with one final effort bolted for the surface. The light of the world evaporated. I went unconscious.
I was lying prone on a magic carpet, my arms were crossed and my chin rested on them. A vast sparkling city sat before me, in the middle of the desert. The city formed a bustling glowing ring around a large teardrop shaped oasis. At the tip of the teardrop a magnificent palace stood proudly. The palace couldn't be imagined without the city, nor could the city be imagined without the palace. The sight was breathtaking.
To the east the tiny silhouette of a man riding a dark horse sped towards the city and the oasis. Who is this rider in the night? Does he bear good or ill will? My carpet slowly descended towards the desert floor. I stood on the carpet near the outskirts of the city. It had landed and sat motionless on the sand. As I stepped off I heard an inhuman shriek, I crouched instinctively. The black haze appeared out of nowhere and devoured me. I was hacking and coughing uncontrollably as it filled my lungs.
I awoke from my dream hacking and coughing water on the floor of the well. The stone surface was still wet though the water had vanished. I was wasted, my limbs were leaden and fatigued, my chest ached and my head pounded. Every breath restored a small iota of my strength; I sat slumped against the wall of the well. Eyes shut, mind shut. Breathing was the only burden I had the strength to bear.
I think an hour had passed before I willed my eyes open, the stones now held only the hint of dampness, save for where my body had prevented the water from evaporating. I stood and looked up at the distant opening to the well. Damn. The air allowed more light to reach the bottom than before but the grate still provided the majority of the illumination, casting a radioactive green shadow on everything. The hole my arm was trapped in remained.
I pieced together the puzzle. Pulling back on the handle had triggered some sort of draining mechanism, even if I had enough oxygen to make the distance I wouldn't have been able to get out of the well if the water had dropped just a few feet. I had blacked out mid ascent, the water draining had pulled me to the floor of the well and by some miracle I hadn't inhaled enough water to kill myself. Damn.
The well was too smooth to scale normally. I went back to the hole and tried my best to examine it. The handle sat innocently at the bottom. I really don't want to do this again. I reluctantly placed my arm back into the hole and grab the handle. I turned it, pulled it, and pushed it. It held fast. I removed my grip, I hesitated a moment, the
arm clamp did not activate. Well that's a relief. The weight of the near drowning began to lift and the turnings in my mind became increasingly lucid. I began examining the stone blocks lining the well, a hidden cache maybe?
The patient discipline learned from meticulously examining the base of the obelisk became invaluable as I similarly tapped and pressed each reachable stone. My mind wandered. An innocuous stone gave way. My focus snapped back to the present. What's this? I placed both hands on the stone and steadily moved it back. The stone below had a hollow top. Sitting quietly in the recession was a worn leather bound journal. I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I was scared that the book would reveal some terrible revelation about my presence in this place. I reached for the journal with trepidation and sat leaning against the wall of the well. I opened it.
I shut the book, not because of its contents; I hadn't read a single line yet. What the hell was that? I looked up. I had never felt terror like this before. It was all consuming, if my breath wasn't already stolen away from me I would have gagged on it.
The dark shadowy outlines of men stood ringing the top of the well. Oh God I'm not alone. An inhuman scream emanated from the top of the well, it was the violent grinding of stones overlaid with the terrible screech of metal against chalkboard. The paralysis of fear turned into disbelief at what I saw next.
One of the figures jumped. Its human outline grew as it hurtled towards me. I finally broke my stasis and pinned myself against the wall of the well. The figures body smashed into the surface of the well and a massive shower of sand engulfed me. Sand? I looked down, nothing remained but sand. I didn't have time to analyze the situation, more battle cries emanated from the top of the well.
Two more shadows flew towards me; they crashed similarly into the bottom. Sand flew everywhere. The floodgates came open, the sand demons were endless. Their bodies became my step ladder out of the well. I had risen almost ten feet atop the growing layer of sand. I clutched the journal tightly in one arm. The assault stopped. The sand demons lined the entrance of the well.
They're waiting for something. I waited with them. They stared at me while I stared at them, like two enemies pacing between a glass wall that would inevitably be shattered. They were sizing me up, I was sizing them up. They stood motionless at the well entrance for hours. I realized that I must do something to progress our battle. There must be another stone to press. I found one. It slid back only a few inches and then made a satisfying 'click'. The floor began to rise. The mass of sand below me was being pushed towards the well entrance. The starlight of the ceiling pulsated brighter and brighter.
The sand monsters stood motionless, they were ready. Halfway towards the surface they began jumping again, just one or two at a time now to gauge the height. Sometimes only their legs would be destroyed and I would have to stomp their clawing torsos out of existence. The feeling of their bodies crumble and collapse under my feet was pleasing.
Finally having an enemy other than my own mind and a desolate tower was a strange relief. I knew that in a few feet the full assault would start. I clasped the journal shut and threw it out of the well. The monsters didn't react to it at all. Good, they're only interested in me. They leaped.
Their attacks were wild and flailing, their bodies fragile, a singular blow would dispatch most of my opponents. Their landed strikes stung and scraped my skin. One of the leaping demons landed on my arm removing a large chunk of skin. The well had almost risen fully to the surface, I was taking a beating, their numbers were endless. As the well returned to the surface I saw the scale of my problem. The sand warriors were manifesting out of the sand of the vast chamber, a growing, writhing cornfield of faceless warriors charging towards me.
I won't last in this. I instinctively dove into the first well. The assault ceased after two of the beasts leapt and dissolved into the water of the well. My breath was running out rapidly, I was exhausted from the fight. The refreshing water cooled me and stung at my open wounds. I lingered beneath the surface as I watched the blood smoke off my arm like a burning cigarette.
I broached the surface, the monsters arms reached for me. I had strayed too far from the center of the well. Dodging the eager reach of one, I moved in range of the assailant behind me. His grip on my neck was just secure enough to drag me from the well but the water loosed his attempts at my throat.
I rolled away in the sand and resumed my battle. I was furious with rage. I fought back towards the filled in center well. Time to get desperate. I dove for the two glass orbs and used them to bludgeon my opponents. They fell easily but their numbers made victory impossible.
My energy was drained, a wild swing with the red orb let loose a sickening cracking noise from the glass. A single bead of the vibrant red fluid dripped out. The assault stopped as every beast spawned stared at the drop in the sand. The shriek they let loose was unbearable, the fury of their siege doubled and they moved towards me in a horrible relentless wave. I fought briefly then bent over clutching the two orbs. The wave fully crashed on me, I buckled against the weight of the sand and their clawing, I was about to collapse completely.
Purple. I smashed the two orbs together. A massive cloud of purple dust exploded filling the whole room. The sand warriors had vanished. A purple powdery haze lingered in the air. I coughed purple, I breathed purple, I had purple all over my skin. I walked to the well; my entire body was covered in the stuff. It had mixed with my wounds, I even bled purple. I certainly wasn't expecting that. My thoughts jumped to the leather journal. I found it near the third well covered in purple dust but still intact. Good, I'm sure that thing is important.
I spent the next few minutes relaxing and bathing in the well. Between the dust on myself and my clothes the water took on a swirling violet hue. I finished the rinse in the third well. The dust had clotted my wounds and blood stopped oozing. That's convenient. The weeping statue sat freshly cleaned on the edge of the well. My arms and head rested on the edge next to him. "Try not to be sad forever." He didn't respond. "Just saying." I shrugged; silence. My gaze shifted towards the journal.
Chapter 4 – Sisters
The entrance to the hallway was still sealed. That journal is the key. Sitting on the edge of the well with my feet rhythmically kicked in the water. I waited for the air to dry my hands, it didn't take long. The journal couldn’t wait any longer. I managed to wipe most of the purple residue off but a bit still held fast to the papers. The thin strip of leather binding the journal untied easily.
