Charlie in the Underworld

by Charlie Small

  Calm down, I told myself. The worst thing you can do is panic. Take a deep breath. Things could be worse; at least you’ve got your torch. Imagine how scary it would be if it was completely dark! It was then that the light started to dim. It was a wind-up torch, so I grabbed the handle and turned it. With a ping, the winder came off in my hand! Oh heck, what was I going to do now?

  I shook the torch and for a moment the beam grew brighter; then it dimmed to a faint glow … and then it went out completely. The tunnel was pitch black; I couldn’t see a thing!

  The First Sign Of MADNESS!

  I wouldn’t say I was scared of the dark. I don’t need a nightlight in my bedroom or anything (although I do like the landing light on and there’s a streetlamp outside our house that shines through my bedroom window), but now I was in complete darkness, and I didn’t like it one little bit. Just try putting your head under the bedcovers when all the lights are off. Dark, isn’t it? Well, this was even darker!

  My heart started to pound in my chest and I fought for breath in the hot, oppressive atmosphere. Get me out of here!

  ‘Help!’ I yelled, and my voice echoed away down the tunnel and disappeared into silence. ‘Help! Help!’

  Then, ‘Stop it, Charlie Small,’ I said out loud. ‘What are you, a boy or a mouse? You’re four hundred years old, for goodness’ sake. Some intrepid explorer you are if you can’t stand the dark. Pull yourself together!’ And just to make sure I was paying attention I gave myself a slap on the face.

  ‘Ouch! That hurt,’ I said.

  ‘Good,’ I replied. ‘Let that be a lesson to you; any more whining and I’ll dish out another.’

  ‘OK, sorry,’ I said, taking a deep breath and calming down. ‘I’m feeling much better now. There’s one more thing, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You really must stop talking to yourself. Anyone would think you’d gone bonkers!’

  The Buzz!

  I don’t know how long I spent shuffling along in the dark – an hour? a day maybe? – but then I thought I heard a noise. Not more rats, I prayed. I stopped walking and held my breath.

  Yes, there was definitely a low buzzing noise ahead, like an electric generator. I crept forward silently, and as the tunnel turned, I realized I could see the walls. Only faintly, but I could definitely make out some rocky lumps and bumps.

  As I kept going, the hum grew louder and the light grew brighter, and suddenly, just ahead, I saw an intense golden glow coming from a hole in the wall, lighting up a long stretch of the tunnel.

  Busy Little Bees

  While I watched, a cluster of little golden globes of light floated out of the hole, hung in the air for a moment and then shot off down the tunnel. As they did so, some more passed them coming the other way. Humming loudly, they bustled around the entrance to the hole and then disappeared inside.

  Almost immediately another group of floating lights emerged from the rock and I understood what I was seeing. They were insects. Strange, glowing insects returning to their nest. I had heard of glow-worms of course, but these were so much bigger. They were about the size of a tennis ball, with little corkscrew tails; they glowed bright yellow … and they gave me an idea!

  A Flying Torch!

  I crept up to the hole and peered inside. It was so bright I had to squint, but when my eyes had got used to the glare I could make out a swarm of insects crawling over the surface of the rock, which they had drilled full of holes with their corkscrew tails.

  Dipping into my rucksack, I took out the glue pen; with my multi-tooled penknife I cut a two-metre length from my ball of string; then, reaching into the hole and praying that the bugs weren’t poisonous, I carefully closed my hand around one and lifted it out.

  Whoa! – the bug didn’t sting, but vibrated so hard in my hand that it sent a tingling sensation right up my arm! Carefully, I let one of its black, feathery legs poke out between my fingers and dabbed on a spot of glue. I touched one end of the string against the glue spot, held it for a few seconds and then let the creature go. It buzzed into the air on the end of the string, and I tied the other end around my wrist.

  Brilliant, it worked – I had my own flying torch! Now I could see where I was going, I raced down the tunnel, determined to find a way out as quickly as possible. The insect followed on its lead a metre or so above my head, lighting my way with a warm yellow light.

  A Pillar Of Strength!

  Oh boy, was I glad I’d found my bug light because suddenly I came to a spot where the floor of the tunnel had collapsed. All that remained was a series of narrow columns about two metres apart, just like this:

  If I’d still been in the dark, I would have fallen straight between the columns and been dashed onto the jagged rocks below.

  There was nothing for it but to jump from one pillar to the next. I sprang into the air, landing on top of the first one and waving my arms around like a windmill to try and keep my balance. Phew! This was going to be tricky! Panting with effort, I jumped again and again, dislodging cascades of stones that rattled down to the rocks below.

  Some of the pillars were only about ten centimetres wide, and once I very nearly fell. It was only with the help of the insect tied to my wrist that I managed to regain my balance. As I started to fall backwards, it flapped its tiny wings so fast they buzzed like an outboard motor, and it managed to hold me upright until I found my footing. Thanks, bug!

  A Tight Spot

  At last I reached solid ground again and continued on my way. The tunnel went on and on, and the ceiling got lower and lower. Soon I had to crawl along on all fours. This was no fun at all and I was glad to have my friendly bug for company.

  I began to feel very hungry; it was ages since I’d eaten anything, but the only food I had in my rucksack was the large slab of toffee that Granny Green had given me after I defeated the evil Puppet Master. That would have to do. I ripped off the wrapper and took a huge bite.

  Mmmm! Delicious – and I wasn’t the only one to think so, because the glow bug dived onto the toffee and started sucking away with its weird pointy mouth. In fact it loved it so much I had to prise it away and quickly wrap up the toffee before it scoffed the lot!

  ‘We must leave some for later,’ I said. ‘Now let’s see where this tiny passage leads.’

  Soon the tunnel was so small I had to slide along on my tummy. Then, all at once, a faint smell like bad eggs wafted along the narrow passageway. Where was it coming from? I squeezed through a tiny gap between two protruding rocks and stepped into a large underground chamber.

  The Real Pits

  In the floor ahead of me was a deep pit that glowed with an intense red light. It stretched right across the cavern, so although I could see the entrance to a large tunnel on the far side, I couldn’t reach it. My way was barred.

  Every few seconds, with a bubbling, belching sound, great clouds of steam billowed from the depths of the pit and floated up to the ceiling. Now the bad egg smell was really strong; it stung my nostrils and made my throat feel dry and sore. Stepping towards the crater, I could see a fiery river of thick molten lava passing through a wide fracture in the rock, hundreds of metres below. There must be a way across, I said to myself, and looking up, I saw something that gave me an idea … But just as I reached for my lasso I heard a shuffling noise behind me.

  I spun round. Oh no! Standing at the entrance to another tunnel was the ape-man.

  ‘Man-cha!’ he bellowed.

  A Tarzan-Like Escape!

  I ran, dragging the glow bug behind me and unfurling my lasso at the same time. The ape-man followed hot on my heels. I twirled my lasso once, twice, three times, and threw it up towards the ceiling.

  With a satisfying thunk the loop tightened around a projecting rock, and I launched myself into a running jump. I soared over the deep, bubbling pit, and as I looked back at the ape-man, who was now standing at the edge of the crater with a very confused look on his face, I let out a Tarzan-like yell of triumph.

&nbs
p; ‘Aah-aah-aah-aah-aah!’

  And then the rock snapped off. I dropped my lasso and tumbled head over heels into the fiery pit below!

  Out Of The Frying Pan And Into The Fire!

  I plummeted down, the air scorching me as I fell towards the pool of lava below. Yikes!

  Then, all of a sudden, I stopped in mid-air! It sounds impossible, I know, but it’s true: I was suspended halfway down with the face of the stupid ape-man peering at me from above and the river of liquid rock writhing and boiling below. What’s going on? I wondered, feeling all around me. Then I realized what had happened – I was caught in a net!

  The strings of the net were so fine they were almost invisible, but they were very strong, and sticky, and stretched right across the pit. But who would bother putting a net in such a strange place, and what was it for?

  It was then that I saw a grisly sight: caught in the net at my feet and staring up at me with a terrible toothy grin was a human skull. Oh yikes! Someone else had fallen down here, and been unable to climb out. What a terrible end! I felt the searing heat of the molten lava below and knew I would have to get out pretty quick myself, or I would start to cook through like a burger on a barbecue. I studied the rock face, trying to find an escape route. Yes, there was a way up: with the help of my explorer’s kit I was sure I could climb out.

  As I scrambled across the mesh towards the rock wall, I realized that the netting was littered with skulls and leg bones and ribcages. Yuck! How revolting! But surely not all of these scalded skeletons had been unable to escape. What on earth had happened to them?

  Then I felt the net start to vibrate. It wasn’t me making the strings quiver and pulse; something else was moving across it! I looked around and my heart leaped into my throat: crawling straight towards me was the ugliest, scariest, most vicious-looking insect I have ever seen, and this one was way too big to squash between the pages of my journal!

  Spidion Attack – HELP!

  It was a revolting, creeping-crawling, monstrous fat spider, as big as an armchair. The web bowed under the creature’s weight as it waved a deadly three-pronged tail, which curved over its back like a scorpion’s.

  The deep purple hairs on the creature’s body waved in the updraught from the hot pit. Its tail and forelegs were a dirty lemon yellow and covered with a smooth, hard carapace. Scared as I was, the explorer side of me was fascinated. I was sure this was another new species to add to my list and I immediately called it the Spidion!

  Uh-oh! After pausing and testing the scorching air with its front legs, the infernal insect scuttled straight towards me. Its bony forelegs clattered like knives; it hissed like a punctured tyre and dribbled a continuous stream of thick, custard-like liquid from between its jaws. Disgusting! I backed away, but the Spidion was on home territory and much surer-footed than me. How was I going to get out of this? As the Spidion made a rush towards me, I felt around in my rucksack for my hunting knife and slashed at the sticky strands of web in front of it. The tough threads pinged as they snapped and the loose ends whipped through the air. The web sagged and the angry arachnid had to step back in order to avoid falling through the tear.

  Undeterred, the Spidion attacked from another angle. Again I slashed at the web. Now I nearly fell through the hole: I grabbed the web and pulled myself back up, enveloped in the cloud of steaming sulphur that belched up from the deep pit. The Spidion moved again and I realized that if I didn’t do something fast, I would be cornered, and either the animal would get me, or I would fry in the bubbling river below.

  Cut And Run

  Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I set off in a crouching run around the Spidion, my feet now finding the tiny threads with ease. It must have been all the training I did up in the rigging of the pirate ship.

  I kept slicing at the web with my knife and it started to give way in the middle. The Spidion followed me, dribbling and gurgling, the deadly tail whipping through the air and stabbing at me with its scimitar-like stings. As I neared the far wall of the crater, the web around my attacker sagged more and more; finally it gave way completely. Scrabbling wildly to try and regain its footing, the Spidion gave an ear-splitting screech and started to fall.

  ‘Yes, got you!’ I cried in relief; but it wasn’t over yet!

  The Spidion dived towards me, grabbing a single strand of web with one of its legs and pulling itself back up. I lunged forward to try and cut the web, but with another screech the insect squirted a stream of thick, custardy spit straight into my face. I wiped away the revolting gunge just as its huge tail whipped towards me, the deadly stingers aiming straight for my back.

  Still half blind, I stabbed at the web and dived out of the way; but I had only managed to cut halfway through it.

  ‘Weeaark!’ the animal cried, its legs flailing wildly in the air as its tail stabbed at me – once, twice – both blows glancing off my trusty old rucksack. The blows must have loosened the flap because, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my precious crocodile’s tooth and my telescope drop into the steaming pit.

  Then, with a loud twang, the tough little thread snapped and the Spidion fell screaming towards the boiling magma below. The heat must be unbelievable down there: way before it reached the raging river, the Spidion evaporated into thin air.

  Stuck In The Pit

  I scrambled away from the torn edge of the web and sat with my back against the hot side of the pit. With my heart banging away in my chest like a steam hammer, I realized I was starting to cook and decided to waste no time in getting out of the sulphurous chasm.

  I began to climb, following the route I had roughly mapped out in my mind. All I had to do was get onto an overhang some thirty metres above my head, and from there I could lasso another projection and climb the rope to the top. There was just one problem with this plan. Correction, there were just two problems with this plan:

  1) I couldn’t climb up the side of the pit. It was covered with a weird kind of greasy, sticky moss, which, as soon as I touched it, excreted a soapy gunk that made climbing impossible.

  2) Even if I could get up to the platform, I couldn’t use my lasso. I’ve just remembered, I dropped it! It must have fallen into the fiery pit and burned to a frazzle. Oh blow and double darn it! This is really, really bad news – the lasso was one of the most important things in my explorer’s kit. I’ll have to get a replacement, and soon!

  SO, I WAS TRAPPED IN A BUBBLING CRATER WITH A RIVER OF FIRE BELOW AND AN ANGRY APE-MAN ABOVE!

  Yes, he was still there, looking down in his gormless way.

  ‘Man-cha!’ he yelled, and raised his long, hairy arms above his head.

  ‘Man-cha to you too!’ I bellowed back. ‘Now shut up, I’m trying to think.’ I sat down again and looked through my explorer’s kit, hoping to find something that might help me escape.

  What Now?

  As I did so, the glow bug that was still attached to my wrist started buzzing about frantically. Poor thing – I had forgotten all about it. It must have been thrown about like a rag doll during my fight with the Spidion. The kindest thing to do would be to let it go. The glow from the molten lava below gave me more than enough light to see by, and if I ever managed to get out of the pit and found myself in the dark again, I would just have to deal with it as best I could.

  I snipped through the string with my knife and the glow bug buzzed noisily away. As soon as my little friend had gone, I tried scaling the rock wall again. Desperately, I scrabbled and scrambled and clambered and climbed, but it was way too slimy. As soon as I thought I was getting somewhere, I slid right back down onto the web again.

  ‘Darn it!’ I cried angrily. By now, I was getting really hot – in fact my clothes were starting to smoke! I looked up towards the ape-man. ‘Can’t you throw down a rope or something, you hairy, ham-fisted hulk?’ But he was no longer there; I was totally on my own.

  Oh no! What am I going to do? How am I …? Hold on, what’s that buzzing noise?

  The Light Flight

/>   The buzzing grew louder and louder. Over the rim of the pit far above my head came a whole swarm of glow bugs. The one in the lead had a piece of string still dangling from its back leg, and I realized it must be my little yellow friend. The insects swarmed together above my head in one shifting ball of light. My pet bug flew down to my wrist and then up to the swarm again. What did it mean?

  Then, as it repeated its actions, I understood. I quickly unrolled the ball of string from my rucksack, cutting off equal lengths until I had as many bits of string as there were insects. I dabbed a blob of glue onto the end of each string and held it up. Immediately, a bug flew down, dipped a leg into the paste and then rejoined its friends in the swarm.

  Before long, a cloud of insects as large as a beach ball glowed brilliantly above my head. From below them hung a festoon of strings, which I grabbed hold of. The humming increased and the bugs flew up, lifting me effortlessly into the air. I held on tight – very tight: one slip and I would be sizzling in the lava like a sausage. Go, bugs, go!

  On Solid Ground – But In A Tight Spot

  Yahoo, yee-hah, yippee! and all the other cowboy cries I can think of. We made it! The friendly insects lifted me clean out of the pit and dropped me gently at the mouth of the tunnel I had been trying to reach in the first place. Why on earth did they help? What could they want in return? Then, as soon as I let them go, I knew exactly what they wanted!