I paced back and forth, studying the dining table and its contents and wondered how I could use any of what I’d learned from the Polaroids to help me escape. After wracking my brain uselessly for nearly a half-hour, I collapsed into one of the dining room chairs, exhausted and confused. It was only as I let my mind wander and unfocus for a second that I was struck by a certain incongruous fact. Initially, I had thought that this maze was some sort of prison designed to punish me for my sinful intent. But, this room seemed to be focused more on alerting me to the fact that there were very specific areas in my life that were broken. That hardly seemed like a punishment. If this trap was the byproduct of a demon architect’s imagination, there was no way such a creature would go to the trouble to point out those weaknesses in me that needed fixing. On the other hand, if this was a labyrinth of angelic design, there would be no mention of a minotaur that delights in transgression.
I wasn’t sure what to think about the kinds of forces controlling my destiny. At the moment, it didn’t matter. Whether angels or demons were responsible, the fact remained that I was still trapped. Knowing the whys and wherefores wouldn’t magically make a door appear.
I picked up a fork or a spoon off of the table from time to time and smacked the walls in hopes of a reaction. Fearful that another barrage of darts might be fired at me, I was careful not to hit any of the symbols. I inspected each and every square inch of the room, looking for a break where a doorway might be. I even stood on top of the table and inspected the ceiling for a possible way out, but found nothing useful. Every square inch of the floors, walls, and ceiling appeared smooth and unbroken. I couldn’t find any trace of the door I used to enter the room.
I was trapped inside a Victorian nightmare where manners and etiquette were enforced as punishment; I kept waiting for a butler or a maid to enter the room and start dusting or polishing something, but nothing happened. Nothing moved, nothing gave any hint as to the room’s secrets. The cryptic writings on the walls read like the musings of a schizophrenic, and no amount of staring brought any further revelations. I remembered hearing about mathematical experts who had spent years studying the same blackboard and the same half-worked problem before one day saying 'Eureka!’ as the solution came to them in a flash of genius. I didn’t have time to wait on a similar burst of brilliance to show me the way out. I couldn’t imagine spending my entire life in a place like this. I would go crazy long before I ever died of hunger or thirst.
Panic set in at this point, and I nearly hyperventilated at the thought of being trapped here forever. Outraged and overwhelmed by helplessness, I lost it. I threw silverware and hurled plates. I smashed the chairs into kindling and reduced the tablecloth to tatters, and then started screaming.
“Let me out of here! I’m sorry for what I did!”
After destroying as much of the room as possible, I collapsed onto the floor in an exhausted heap. My hands were raw and filled with splinters, and the floor was covered with broken bits and pieces of china. Tattered Polaroids littered the ground like dead leaves in need of raking.
Despite every effort to create a door by force, I was trapped. Unable to do anything else, I closed my eyes and fell asleep. I thought about Amy and Peter and how much I‘d love to hug them both close to me and ask for forgiveness for the things I‘d done.
Thoughts of my family, however, vanished like wisps of fog the moment I crossed the threshold between waking and sleeping.
I dreamt I was being chased by a creature with eyes that smoldered like white-hot coals. Wickedly sharp horns crowned a head that owed as much to bovine physiology as it did to human anatomy. Flies circled the creature's head, laying eggs in the messy tangles of matted hair. Blood stained the creature’s muzzle, and its nostrils flared at my scent. It could smell the sin in my heart and salivated at the thought.
I ran blindly through the maze, not knowing which way to go, wondering if I was traveling in circles. Once or twice, I stumbled and scrambled to my feet in hopes of eluding the bull-creature that was hot on my heels. Yet no matter how far or how fast I ran, the beast kept up with me and never seemed to tire.
I ran, despite a stitch in my side and a cramp in my leg. I stumbled along in darkness, desperate to get away. My mouth was dry, and my lungs burned. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
And still the beast drew near---
At one point, I felt the monster’s rancid breath on my neck, and I woke up screaming and gasping for air.
What I saw only reinforced the need for oxygen.
The dining room setting was just as it had been when I had entered the room. Nothing was broken. Nothing was torn. Even the place settings were the same. It was as if my psychotic breakdown had never happened.
“This can’t be. This is insane.”
Like before, the fortune cookie sat in the center of the table, an edible oracle. With trembling hands, I picked it up, wondering if I was doomed to spend all of eternity repeating the same mistakes over and over again.
Once again I broke the cookie open, fully expecting to find the same message as before and was surprised to read something different.
“Think of this as a place where you can discover who you truly are. Angels and demons abound in the depths of the labyrinth if you know where to look. Some will be out to kill you and delight in the damnation of your soul. Others will try to help you and bask in the light of your spirit. The choices, however, are yours to make. You will own the triumphs---and the mistakes. A man shapes the course of his life by the decisions he makes, and you will write your destiny inside the walls of this maze. Underneath the lid of each tray you will find something to prod your conscience, to defibrillate those unfeeling parts of you that have become numb. Delight in the pain that follows. It’s part of your healing. Guilt, as you well know, is a bitter pill, but it is one you must swallow. Keep one with you at all times, if only to serve as a reminder.”
I raised the lid on the first tray and was surprised to see a tiny golden pill that looked like it had been made from solidified amber.
“Guilt?” I scarcely believed what this little pill was purported to do.
I half-expected to lift one of the lids and see a sign that said “Eat me” or to be greeted out of nowhere by the disembodied smile of a Cheshire cat. But this wasn’t Wonderland.
Like the first, the other trays each held a pill, and I pocketed all of them except one. I popped it into my mouth and dry-swallowed, not really believing that there would be any consequences from the action.
I suddenly remembered something that I hadn’t thought about in years. It was a summer day. I was five. The clerk at the grocery store was too busy pricing spaghetti sauce to notice me slip a pack of gum into my pocket. Nobody had ever known about that. I had never gotten caught, but the act was catalogued in the database of my memory, and I had just inadvertently opened the file.
After that, things only got worse.
My head felt like it was going to self-destruct, and I fell to the floor in a twitching, jittery heap of half-remembered sins. I was a swimmer about to be consumed by a tidal wave of transgressions, and I suddenly forgot how to tread water. All at once, I recalled everything I had ever done wrong, from the time I had broken a window at City Hall to the time I cheated on an exam in college to that time not more than a few hours ago when I had gone to Karen Jantzen’s house with thoughts of infidelity on my mind. It was like mainlining pain, and I wanted nothing more than to make the horror stop.
“Oh God!”
I wept. Although my eyes were still closed, I heard the smooth swoosh of a door sliding back in its tracks.
When I looked up, an entrance had opened at the far end of the room.
Chapter 10
The room I entered next wasn’t so much a room but a nexus. Passageways branched off in six different directions like the spokes of a wheel radiating out from a central hub. It was up to me to choose which one I wanted to explore. The illumination given off by the walls was minimal at b
est, and it was difficult to see far in any direction. I took a few steps into each hallway and peered into the shadows, hoping to see where each one led. It was like staring into a swirling miasma of nothingness, as if the corridors were flooded with darkness.
At any moment it felt like some last point of reserve would break and send a rushing wave of shadows in my direction. I was sure such a flood would kill me, and I was scared to venture too far without more light. Yet I knew I couldn’t stay put if I ever wanted to see the sun again. I had to keep moving.
The possibility of running into the minotaur or something worse at the end of one of these tunnels frightened me; however, I knew I was going to have to make a choice. No doubt the creatures inhabiting this place knew the layout of this maze much better than I did. Whatever chased me earlier might have taken a shortcut and positioned itself inside one of these corridors. Maybe it was waiting there in darkness for me now. The thought of passing some nightmarish beast in the shadows without even realizing it gave me the creeps. It was enough to make me hesitant about venturing too far into unknown territory.
I peered into the inky blackness, looking for the faintest signs of motion or the glimmer of preternatural eyes staring back at me. I held my breath and listened for the thudding of a heart or the soft respiration of some unseen evil. If something crouched in wait for me, it gave no hint as to its whereabouts. That should have made me feel better about choosing a tunnel, but it didn’t.
I positioned myself away from all of the doorways where nothing could see me, and stood statue-still for a moment. I didn’t open my eyes. I controlled my breathing with shallow inhalations and exhalations. I even tried to slow the beating of my heart. If there was something hiding in one of these tunnels, I wanted to draw it out.
I must have stood there for ten minutes before a faint, almost imperceptible sound caused my heart to race. The noise was subtle. One moment it was like a chain being dragged slowly across a stone floor. The next it sounded like knives being drawn across each other in a sharpening gesture. I wasn’t sure whether running or staying put would provide me the greatest chance for survival, but I knew I didn’t have long to consider my choices.
With so much silence, it was easy to discern which tunnel the sound was coming from. At the last minute, I decided to duck into one of the other hallways. If I stayed out in the open, my chances of being discovered were absolute. At least this way the odds of remaining hidden were in my favor. Whatever was coming this way could choose from one of five hallways. I just hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t pick mine.
The corridor I chose wasn’t all that different from the others I had passed through. Most importantly it was dark, and I hoped that would be to my advantage. But it was difficult forcing myself to stand quietly in the shadows while an adversary of unknown origins searched for my scent on the air.
I kept my eyes glued on the nexus point and searched for any sign of movement. The nexus, however, was nearly as dark as the hallways. Shadows frolicked and danced on the ceiling, but they weren’t going to betray whatever lurked nearby.
My muscles cramped from remaining absolutely still, and the need to stretch was overwhelming. I’d had muscle cramps before, and yelling was usually a part of the equation. Making noise of any sort, however, would mean certain death. I still hadn’t seen what kind of creature was out there, but I had my suspicions it wasn’t friendly. Nothing here seemed to be.
As I stood there, pressed against the cool stone wall, I thought about Amy and Peter and what I would have given to see them again. I wanted to be a good father and a good husband. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to be given the option now. At this moment, all depended on whether the creature slouching in the darkness found me or not. My thoughts quickly turned to survival when I heard the faintest whisper of rock or bone sliding across stone.
I said a silent prayer to God asking Him to deliver me, and closed my eyes. I heard the scraping sound again. This time it was closer. Beads of sweat slid down my face and back; my hands trembled and my stomach tied itself in knots. The scraping sound grew louder. It was only a matter of seconds before I felt a faint blossom of air bloom on my cheek. That flower smelled like war and disease, sulfur and dried blood. It was the breath of the creature that was stalking me.
Although I refused to open my eyes, I knew the beast was standing right in front of me, blowing its putrid breath in my face. It was all I could do not to cry out and faint. Somehow, I managed not to make any noise although I was sure it heard my trip hammering heart.
It stood there before me, making some sort of erratic clicking sound. I did my best not to move, not to tremble, not to do anything that might reveal me. The clicking grew louder and faster, making me think of crabs or lobsters snapping their claws. I was afraid if I opened my eyes, I would see some sort of monstrosity with chitinous scales, mandibles, and a proboscis that might be used to suck the life out of me, leaving me as little more than a husk, drained of all my fluids.
Even without the aid of sight, I could feel the thing moving closer to me, inching forward curiously, tasting the air, sniffing it. The beast’s breath stank of cancer wards and crematoriums, and I held my breath until it passed on by. Miraculously, it hadn’t found me. It hadn’t even realized I was there.
I waited until I was certain the creature was gone before collapsing into a gelatinous heap on the floor. My legs trembled from exhaustion, and my lips were quivering with relief. Tears streamed down my face, and I wiped them quickly away.
I had no idea if the beast that had passed before me was the minotaur or another creature. It didn’t matter. I didn’t want another face-to-face opportunity to make a positive identification. All I wanted was to get out of this place.
If only I could figure out where the doors were---
Chapter 11
Although I couldn’t be certain that the six hallways didn’t connect at some point, I knew for sure that I wasn’t going to venture any deeper into the one I had hidden inside. That was the direction the beast had gone, and I had no desire for a second encounter.
After some deliberation, I took the path that veered furthest to the left, reasoning that the outermost corridors might lead away from the center of the maze. Nothing could have been further from the truth. The passage made several abrupt ninety-degree turns, and soon, I had lost all sense of direction. For all I knew, I had made enough right angle turns to put me back at square one. Even some of the writing on the walls looked repetitious, like some futuristic graffiti artist had used these walls to practice his craft.
Eventually I reached a hallway that was lit by torches, offsetting the faint blue characters on the wall with a brilliant orange glare. Thankful for the flames, I grabbed one of the torches out of its sconce and ventured on. After walking for what seemed like miles, I reached another fork in the road and decided to turn right this time instead of left, hoping I would happen upon a door that might lead me back to the outside world.
I had no idea how long I’d been wandering around. I was beginning to have some understanding of how the Israelites felt in the wilderness. The atmosphere inside the labyrinth had gone from a damp mossy smell to dry and stale, like air trapped inside a mausoleum for hundreds of years.
As I reached the next ninety-degree turn, I noted the faintest hint of motion and caught a whiff of something that smelled like it had baked on a slab of desert highway for a week or two. I stopped, holding my torch tightly, willing the fire to keep burning. It was the closest thing to a weapon I had.
Listening and peering intently into the darkness, I waited for a couple of seconds, wondering if the motion I had seen was nothing more than shadows dancing on the walls, set into motion by my flame. It was a definite possibility. But what about the smell? Shadows didn’t stink. Or at least they didn’t in the reality I knew and longed for.
I inhaled the stale odor of eons and the pungent stench of musk. I felt like I was trapped in a system of ancient catacombs. I hadn’t run across any de
caying corpses or brittle skeletons yet, but it wasn’t hard to imagine that I was walking the halls of the dead.
A sudden buzzing filled the labyrinth, seemingly from all directions, making it impossible to hear anything else. Without warning, a wave of flies filled the corridor, their wings fluttering against my skin, their mirrored eyes observing me with an alien intelligence. I was too busy swatting them away and trying to escape to hear the clop-clop-clop of approaching hooves.
I swung my torch in wide arcs, trying to get the flies off of me. The kamikaze insects were persistent, biting me, lighting on my face, flying in circles around my head. I didn’t know it at the time but they were stalling me, buying time for their master.
My skin was a patchwork of red welts and inflamed bumps once the insects had done their work and moved on. I clawed madly at the bites although I knew that would only make things worse. As it turned out, the itching was the least of my worries. A set of smoldering yellow eyes peered at me from the darkness.
I cried out and backed away, but the behemoth had his sights set on a feast. It emerged from the shadows, towering over me with a set of horns that could have doubled as javelins. Gunpowder clouds of smoky breath rolled from his nostrils, smelling of raw meat and decay. The creature walked upright on hooves as big as cinderblocks, with legs that were sinewy with muscle. Its hands were covered in a thick, coarse brown fur and were as large as dinner plates. Its face was that of an evil cow, leering at me with eyes like black marbles. A halo of flies circled the minotaur’s head, crowning it in perverse glory.
It sniffed the air once and then looked at me. Although I couldn’t be sure of its expression, I thought it was smiling with pleasure. No doubt, it knew the state of my heart and considered it a delicacy.
The Maze - the Lost Labyrinth Page 4
