The smell hits him head-on. It is a stuffy, dead smell, yet humid and full of rot. It’s as if someone has crossed a smoking cellar with a stocked fridge that a student flat forgot to clear out before the holidays. His first breath is a gag. Overwhelmed, Julien spends his first few minutes trying to regain control. He hardly notices the lack of light.
By the time he has figured out how to breathe – rapid, shallow breaths through his mouth – his eyes have adjusted.
He decides he does not like what he sees. I had to gamble on the mystery door!
He stands in a hallway or, rather, something more akin to a tunnel. What sparse light there is emanates from a type of glowing rock. He notices that several are embedded at regular intervals in the walls. A dim glow reflects from slimy surfaces. Walls, ceilings, and even the floor are slick with something he’d rather not touch. Where the grime does not hold sway, it gives way to either a century-old layer of dust or some kind of growth that climbs the walls to hang from the low ceiling.
He turns his head left and right and sees nothing but a continuation of the horrid surroundings.
“Left or right?” he mutters.
A soft echo extends in both directions. It is the only reply he gets.
Making up his mind, Julien turns to the left and starts walking.
He quickly learns not to take big steps. The first one nearly has him doing his first-ever split. It leaves him with grimy fingers and pants – and an overstretched groin.
Whimpering, he shuffles on, trying to keep his thighs together.
He feels like he’s been shuffling in the muck for nearly an hour when he finally approaches his first intersection. Now what?
Some movement at the centre of the intersection draws his attention. Squinting, Julien can see two huge rats digging through a pile of something he does not feel inclined to investigate. As he approaches, they look up, exchange a few squeaks, and, ignoring him, continue to rummage through the pile.
Considering their size, their lack of fear does not surprise him that much. They are not earth-size big. No. Standing next to him, they’d reach nearly to his knees standing on all fours!
Keeping a respectful distance, Julien decides to wait until they move on.
At least I can use the time to try and reach a decision on which path to take, he rationalizes his hesitation. Obviously not theirs.
Weighing his options, Julien notices that the rats suddenly grow agitated. Whiskers quivering and squeaking loudly, they stare in his direction. After a slight pause, they run off to the hallway on the left.
Why did they suddenly…? Don’t tell me…
Julien turns around slowly – and stares straight into a pair of milky, bulbous eyes. A tongue flicks out and whips the air on both sides of his body.
Julien freezes. He stares at the pinkish salamander the size of a lion for what seems like a panic-filled eternity. Its tongue keeps flicking out.
Then, as if dismissing him, the salamander simply turns around and scuttles off. His webbed feet hardly make any sound as he walks up a wall and then the ceiling.
Julien stares after the creature until it rounds a corner and disappears. That was close! If it had decided to have me for lunch… He shudders. I need a weapon.
Facing the intersection once more, Julien decides to go straight ahead. He keeps shuffling on until he reaches a cavernous room. It has the floor space of a bedroom, but a towering ceiling that could support at least two more floors. Rough walls stare at him from all sides. A dead end! Two neighboring columns of shelves, sporting rough boards from knee-height to far above his head, betray a boring purpose. Storage. Half-heartedly spying around for something useful, Julien discovers holes in the walls at regular intervals. They nearly reach all the way to the ceiling. Probably for support beams. This place must have been packed. Now it’s just useless space.
In the far corner, Julien does spot the remains of what might have, long ago, been a human being. Is that my future? A chill runs down his spine. Maybe I should go back. He turns around and finds his way barred.
It’s the salamander. With friends. Running in his direction.
I’m dead. Julien’s last thought reverberates in his head as his brain crashes. He freezes. Like a fawn cornered by lions, he slowly backs away with trembling legs. His vision shrinks until the three charging monsters not only block the only avenue of escape but fill the entire space.
Julien cries in sheer desperation as he is tackled to the ground. Maws open and close, aiming to find meat. His primal instinct, not ready to accept his position in the food chain, takes over. He kicks at their underbellies and punches at their snouts for all he is worth.
One kick connects, and one of the salamanders lets off.
In the tiny space that is created, an urgent thought surfaces: I can’t let them surround me! Julien scrambles further back and somehow manages to find his feet. All too soon, he discovers the shelves block him from getting closer to the elusive security of the wall. Still, feeling more secure, the fog fades. His brain slowly comes back online while the salamanders pace in front of him, emitting a strange mixture of growls and chirps. Their tongues flick out occasionally in Julien’s direction.
I’m still breathing. Heart beating fiercely, Julien’s vision expands to spot the only area where there seems to be plenty of room. Towards the ceiling.
Suddenly, the salamanders lunge forward again. A spark of creativity prompts Julien to pivot. Placing his left foot on the lowest shelf, he pushes off. The jaws of a salamander snap in the air, narrowly missing his ankle.
Julien starts climbing. If I can leap over them, I can probably outrun them. Right?
CRACK! A budding feeling of victory is crushed in an instant as two boards suddenly snap under his weight, and Julien loses his grip. “Ahhhh! Shit!”
Julien crashes onto the lower boards. With a damning creaking, his improvised staircase collapses into its neighbor. Like a house of cards, the shelves fall apart around Julien as he slams onto the ground. The air is forced from his lungs as dust from an unknown number of years billows around his face.
Dazed, Julien is given no respite. Salamander snouts lunge through the haze. A set of sharp teeth chomps down onto his left forearm while claws tear into his sides. It hurts. His skin tears. Flesh follows. Julien screams and curses as he discovers what being filleted alive might feel like.
Keeping his right arm in front of him to prevent the other salamanders from chowing down on his face, he is pushed backwards on the grimy floor until he feels something hard and sharp poking in his back.
Taking in the snarling, spittle-filled salamander snout lodged into his arm, mere inches from his face, Julien snaps. He punches it as hard in the throat as he can. Then, as the animal lets go, flinching, he reaches behind him. His fingers close on the knob of a stick-like object. He whips it around and in front of him just in time to see the arm-loving salamander gore itself on a rather pale…spike?
A sickening gurgling sound is followed by raspy coughs that expel blue-green blood all over Julien’s arm. As Julien draws back, more follows.
“Yes!” Julien shouts.
The other salamanders are quick to remind Julien of their presence. They renew their onslaught, but Julien senses that the balance has shifted.
The fight is brutal. Savage. Teeth bite down and claws rake. Ignoring the pain as best as he can, Julien grapples to expose soft spots for him to sink his weapon into. He grunts, snarls, and hisses, becoming every bit as animalistic as his attackers. He stabs and keeps stabbing – and stabbing again. Until not a tail twitches.
Dazed, Julien crawls out from underneath the salamander pile, clenching his fists. His heart is hammering in his throat as he gasps for air. He mindlessly stares at the bloody bodies until a terrifying thought comes to him. Could there be more nearby?
He dashes back into the tunnel he had come from. Discounting the slippery surface under his feet, Julien slithers on as fast as he can. Running, crawling, it doesn’t matter to him. He races on. Back to the intersection and afterwards down the only passageway remaining. It slopes upwards and curves slightly to the left. The facts hardly register. But when he sees a sliver of light, Julien doubles his efforts. A way out!
Panting heavily, covered in the blue-green blood of the salamanders, Julien stumbles through a doorway into a chamber. There is a large pile of rubble at its centre and a hole in the ceiling. He pays them no attention as he ducks to the side and peeks around the corner.
Thank God. No sign of pursuit. Wiping the sweat from his brow and leaving a blue-green smear, Julien sits down. What have I gotten myself into? What if… Did I make the wrong choice?
“At least I have a weapon,” he mumbles. He studies the bloodied object whose presence saved his life. Rubbing some of the blood off, he is startled to recognize the unmistakable shape and color of bone. He sighs. “I need a better weapon.”
“Alright! Let’s see what we’ve got to work with. My bet was five on blades!”
Julien whips his head up, even though he doesn’t need the colorful, translucent, visual confirmation to know what his ears already figured out.
The Fool has returned.