by Mark Tufo
“What the fuck?” At first, I didn’t see the creature because it was so small, hardly bigger than a standard beetle, but relative to its size, the hole it was in was cavernous.
“What are you looking at?” the thing shouted at me. I was so surprised at hearing a voice, any voice, even a hostile one, that I fell back into my hole and looked around, ready for anything. When nothing immediately happened, I once again hopped up and looked at who, or what, I figured had made the rude inquiry. I was straining to see what was down there. It wasn’t a beetle, that was for sure. I had no point of reference for what I was seeing, so it’s impossible to describe accurately; it would be like describing television to a blind fish. I’m just trying to get you in the ballpark and putting these labels on it was an aid for my brain to make sense of it as well. I’m going to go with the face of a dog…but not of any dog you’ve ever seen before and not like one of those dogs that is so fucking ugly it’s cute, either. Like a two-year-old with limited skills in wood carving had created his interpretation of a dog’s face. The snout was elongated; at the end was the dark nub of what I assumed was its nose, could have been its anus, for all I knew. Its eyes were the black pearly pellets of a rodent.
Now I got the joy of trying to make out its body, like understanding the shape of a constellation. It was standing on two legs; they were jointed backward like a kangaroo’s, though these were covered in shiny silver scales, not fur. It did have two arms which ended in two fingers and a thumb. Its chest was barrel shaped, and I guess for whatever this thing was, it would be considered buff in its world.
I said the only thing I could think of that made sense. “My name is Mike.”
“You’re the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” it replied.
“Really? In a world that has a Bledgrum, I’m the ugliest thing?”
“That beast is here?” the thing asked, turning its head to peer around.
“Naw, I killed it.”
The thing leveled this piercing gaze at me. I’m telling you, I felt thoughts and memories shuffle around inside my head as it did so.
“Interesting,” it said after a minute. “I wouldn’t have thought the beast capable of dying, especially at the hands of something as ugly as you.”
“You believe me then?”
“I’m a Breatine. It is impossible to deceive us. My people have been used for countless centuries as mediators during difficult negotiations to ascertain and ensure everyone stays honest and aboveboard.”
“Is that weird? Never being able to tell a lie? I can’t even begin to imagine how much jail time I would have ended up doing if that were the case.”
“Please tell me that you are not as stupid as you are ugly; that would be a terrible combination to possess. I did not say I could not deceive; I said I could not be deceived. Vast difference. My people have shaped the destiny of our world with what we allow revealed or kept.”
“Sneaky bastards. I know your type on my world. Gain the trust of those around you and then make sure everything that happens is in the best interests of your kind. Now I know why you’re down here. How many wars are you personally responsible for starting?” I asked.
“Yeah? And what are you here for, not distributing enough doughnuts to the old-folks home on Sundays?”
“You know about baked goods and old-age homes? And I wasn’t sent here; I came voluntarily to help someone.”
The weird little creature gazed at me again; I felt memories shift aside as he dug through and found what he was looking for. It was a disconcerting feeling.
“You are as dumb as you are ugly! You voluntarily gave up your life and soul to be here?” It was shaking its head back and forth. “Concerning baked goods and old age homes, yes we are from differing realities, realms, dimensions, whatever you want to call it—but for all these differences there are also a great many similarities. That you came here of your own volition tells me that you are familiar with the theory of a great many worlds existing within your own. Is that not true?”
I begrudgingly told it “Yes.” We looked at each other for a moment longer. I was at a loss, really, of what to do and this thing didn’t seem like it was going to help me very much, but since my options were extremely limited, I persevered. “What’s your name?”
“Go stare in a mirror.”
At first, I thought this was some sort of deeply philosophical, thought-provoking inquiry, then I realized it was its version of an insult. It thought I was so ugly that to stare in a mirror was a bad thing, an otherworldly “Go fuck yourself.” I was not offended. “Don’t you have people where you’re from?”
“We do; they are usually in cages at a zoo or used in sideshows at oddity carnivals. Do you have those? The ones with the freaks?”
“You know what, I think I’ll leave you to your hole.” I slipped back into my own prison. It wasn’t long before its voice shouted out.
“Linnick.”
“What? Did you say Limp dick?”
“Linnick,” it said again.
“Little dick?” I asked.
“Linnn Nnnick!” it shouted with more force than I anticipated; I did not laugh.
“Pin prick?”
“Do not fool yourself. You are worthy of this place.”
“I’m sorry, err…Linnick. It’s in my nature.” I wasn’t sure how to broach this subject and probably it was something that didn’t need broaching, but that is not my way. “You male or female, Linnick?”
There was a long pause, filled with that one kind of silence. Yeah, I’d definitely made a social faux pas. “I will blame your ignorance upon your incredible stupidity and gut-churning, grotesque, grisly, horrid, and repugnant physiognomy and forgive it in my endless benevolence.”
“Female. I get it, you’re female.”
“I am considered of great beauty amongst my people.”
If I’d eaten anything in the last twelve hours and it had not been completely digested, it would have shoved its way up through my esophagus and into my mouth where I would be forced to re-swallow it. For some reason, I was imagining two Breatines copulating, and well, it wasn’t pleasant. I figured they were much like Praying Mantises; she’d have to rip the head off her partner—that way they wouldn’t have to look at each other during the deed.
“Linnick, if I told you I have an idea, would you trust me?”
“Trust that you think so, perhaps, but believe it true? I doubt it. That you have an idea at all seems beyond your scope.”
That stung. “We don’t even know each other.”
“I know enough. That you came here without duress speaks volumes.”
“Fair enough. I still have a way we might possibly help each other, but I don’t know if it’ll work.”
Silence, possibly a sigh, then, “I have been here for nearly seven days. I am hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. I would be willing to grasp at anything.”
I grabbed the lip of my hole and pulled myself up and was hanging one foot over into her hole while I straddled the opening between us and my other foot hovered above my ever expanding hole. Not a maneuver I recommend for those that are not too flexible like myself.
“Is this your idea to help? Extinguishing my life?”
“What? No! Move to the side—I’m going to put my foot down and then pick you up.”
“That…that might work. This dendrun hole is meant specifically for me; it may not be able to adjust itself to you.” It didn’t matter that she was a completely foreign species to me; I could still register the hope in her voice.
I had to get over the skeevies as I picked her up. By the way she braced I could tell she was no fan of this contact either. “I’m going to put you in my chest pocket. Are you alright with that?”
“It is preferred over the hot, clamminess of your hand.”
With Linnick in my pocket, I was once again able to survey the landscape. In the distance, I thought I may have seen a mountain range. I was about to take my first step when she screamed.
My boot was hovering less than an inch from the ground. I pulled it back quickly.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“This specific hole is my trap. If you step outside of it, you will trigger another trap.”
I thought on her words and our predicament. “Linnick, you’ve got to be kidding me. I can barely fit my feet in here, much less be able to walk. I’d have to shuffle. You know how long that would take to get anywhere?”
“Shuffle or die. It appears our lives are in your mucid hands.”
“I don’t know what ‘mucid' means, but I’m going to assume it’s unpleasant.”
“Look at you! Growing smarter by the moment.”
“That way?” I pointed to the prospective mountains.
“Slide one foot in front of the other. I’m going to get some sleep.”
“Must be fucking nice,” I mumbled.
The hole did get deeper as we moved but since it was indeed custom designed for Linnick, it dropped at such a slow rate I don’t know that we lost more than an inch over the mile I had shambled. Though, even at that rate, if I went enough miles we would be in trouble again, but I didn’t give a shit. I was not finding another Breatine hole. A disgustingly ugly bug capable of revealing all your lies and truly insulting your species was not something I wished to make friends with or have many around. I don’t know how much farther I’d gone, but my thighs and calves were on fire. My crotch as well. I’d been scraping my legs together for so long I’m surprised a blaze hadn’t started. I made sure to keep my feet in the hole, but I had to sit.
“We’re not there yet?” Linnick asked as she looked above the lip of my pocket. “Perhaps if you were not sitting we would have made more progress.”
“Not all of us have the luxury of napping during their travels.”
“I highly recommend it. Your pocket is slightly claustrophobic but otherwise warm and dry. Now if I could only have food served in here, it would have been perfect.”
“What do you eat?” I asked absently.
“Internal organs. We burrow into the navels of live animals and then eat everything we get our mouths on from the inside out.”
I looked down to her and was wondering whether I should smash her where she was or pull her out and fling her far away by one leg.
“I am joking, giant ape-creature. Grains. I mostly enjoy grains. My kind are vegetarians though in times of necessity we are quite capable of eating meat. I was not sure your ugliness could get worse, I was wrong; you should have seen your face. It seems that we will be spending some time together; I know you said your name but I have already forgotten it.”
I was reaching down and rubbing my calf. This put Linnick nervously close to my face.
“Michael Talbot.”
“Tallboat?”
“Talbot.”
“Tallboat. That’s what I said.”
“Are you getting me back for my mispronunciations?”
“I am saying what you said: Tallboat.”
She seemed genuine, and honestly, I didn’t give a shit what she called me. As soon as we were out of the dendrun hole area, she and I were going our separate ways. “There is an end to this place, right?” I had to ask because, in reality, I didn’t know.
“I did not have a chance to read the travel brochure before I came down.”
“Funny.”
“I believe we can deduce that this is a finite place, otherwise we would never hear stories about it. All who experience it would be lost.”
“Not sure if that would be a bad thing, Linnick.”
“Truly you believe this? Do you not think before you speak?”
“Not all the time.”
“If everyone were to get stuck in their holes forever, we would not be talking and you would not have your opportunity to escape and help your friend.”
“I meant everyone except me…and—and you, of course.” I stammered.
“I do not need special skills to recognize your pathetic attempts at deception.”
“Yeah. I would never have made it as a lawyer or a politician.” Don’t know if she knew what that implied, but she didn’t question me on it either.
“We should not linger too long. I have seen Gargoyles in the sky.”
“What?”
“Gargoyles. Does this word not exist in your world?”
“In my world, Gargoyles are stone decorations that adorn buildings, mostly used for water spouts and bird perches. I think they are supposed to provide symbolic protection from other mythical monsters, or something to that effect. They don’t fly; they’re not real…unless you live in Hollywood.”
“They are quite real in my world, though they are rarely seen. Here, they are more numerous and much like they are there, scavengers looking for an easy meal.”
“Scavengers? Then why should we care?”
“They are easily three times your size and you can barely move. I would consider that an easy scavenge.”
“Are you kidding me with this?” I stood up, did a quick scan of the sky and started in again with my impersonation of Tim Conway’s The Oldest Man. We’d been going a good long while, enough that Linnick once again got sleepy from my rhythmic swaying and went to lie down. At first, I had not noticed anything out of the ordinary; I should have realized something was up when I felt a cool breeze against my face. It would have been the first indicator of any type of atmospheric change down here. It turned out to be the flap of a great wing that got my attention next.
“Shit,” I said as I turned to see something flying past. It went until it was almost out of sight and then made a broad, swooping turn coming back our way. I started shuffling like mad, even pumping my hands, as if that were going to make a difference. When I realized the futility of this I stopped to reach down and grab my axe.
“What are you doing?” Linnick said groggily. When she saw me looking up, she turned to the sky. She was able to pick up real quick on what was going on. That and my wildly thumping heart was nearly bouncing her out of my shirt. “How many?”
“What!? There could be more than one?”
“They’re scavengers, Tallboat. They usually work in pairs or trios, especially when they’re targeting something still alive.”
“Oh, this is utter bullshit. I think there’s only one; we may be alright.”
Linnick and I watched as the beast dipped down low to get a look at us before flying off.
“Must have scared it off,” I said.
“Or that was a scout and it’s going back to get its mates,” Linnick replied.
“I think I’m starting to hate hell. If I wanted everything I encountered to try and kill me I would have just stayed home.”
“Have you ever stopped to ponder that perhaps there is a reason everything wants to kill you?”
“I choose to believe that it is dark forces that seek my demise in order to extinguish the beacon of hope and light I represent to the world.”
“You say this in a mocking manner, yet there is a kernel of belief behind your words.”
“I have to rationalize some reason as to why I have been on the top of so many ‘to murder’ lists.”
“You need to shuffle faster before they return. I do not wish to be with you when you finally meet your heroic end at the hands of evil.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I did not mean that to sound quite so harsh. It is my hope that this will not be the time that you ultimately meet your fate; I would just rather be on the safe side.”
“I guess that’s better.” I started pumping my arms again, hoping I could create some more speed, though that seemed unlikely.
A turtle on some performance-enhancing drugs could have made better time than me. Shuffling is shuffling; how in the fuck anyone ever got caught by old-school zombies is beyond me.
“Morticia Addams!” I shouted out. “Sorry,” I told Linnick when she looked up at me. “Television c
haracter…gorgeous…used to wear these tight dresses that ended like an octopus at the floor. She used to wiggle across the room with her knees together, though she always appeared to glide, now that I’m thinking about it.”
“Does this help us in any way?”
“None at all. Pure distraction for an over-taxed mind and quickly tiring body.” I looked up in time to see two Gargoyles lazily circling overhead.
“Still too few; they will wait for more before they attack.”
“I can’t even begin to tell you how much better that makes me feel. Are they made from stone?” I asked looking to my blade wondering if it could cut through rock.
“Have you been knocked into the dumbs?”
“Really? That’s the expression that transcends dimensions? How about this one?” I flipped her the finger.
I think it was “aghast” that displayed across Linnick’s features but she quickly passed that on to me when she spoke. “I’m going to assume, Tallboat, that gesture means something completely different in your world. Here, you have just asked if we could mate.”
I had to think on that for a second. “Huh. Still a pretty close translation, though in my world it is more of a negative statement rather than a hopeful question.”
“You are like a Drellting that has received a new plaything.”
“Huh?”
“Easily distracted. There are now three Gargoyles. And to answer your question, in this world rocks do not have the ability to fly.”
“That’s good to know.” Three seemed to be the magic number as they began to spiral leisurely toward us. They looked huge from up high, as they swooped in closer, I realized just how huge. Lycan wearing strapped-on wings; that was roughly what I was looking at. Unlike the giant wolf-beasts, these creatures were furless; their skin, I guess, was the gray of the stone I imagined them to be. They had the pushed in faces of gorillas that regularly smashed themselves straight into parked buses. Four-inch saber tusks jutted up from their bottom jaw to frame out their flattened noses. My balance was compromised as I twisted backwards to watch one approach from behind; add in the downward force produced by its fifteen-foot wingspan and I nearly fell over.
