Benji’s Fun Fact Story Corner #85
With the antler pressed to his throat the Mayor complied. As they left the double doors there were no guards to attack them. The Climber gave a very strangled sigh. He tried to think, but thinking was overrated. The little voice had his mind now, dark thoughts controlled his arms and legs as if they were attached to strings. He was a passenger. They walked with purpose down corridor after corridor. The red carpet underneath was soft on his feet, thus his footfalls were muted. The only sound was his heart racing in his chest. What the hell was he doing? Why? God help me I can’t stop! They reached an out of the way entrance. It almost seemed like it was specifically constructed not to catch your eye, if such a thing was possible. Its doors were the same grey stone as the walls. The carpet did not veer off into it as it did with the other entrances. It was so bland he wouldn’t have noticed it if the Mayor, who was surprisingly calm, had pointed it out. The climber pushed it open with one hand, the other holding the raven black antler to the man’s throat. A small droplet of blood splattered onto the ivory, only then did the Climber notice his hands were shaking endlessly. Inside the door was a luscious garden, filled with sweet aromas and a sea of white flowers. The far end of the room was a wall of ice, with a small entrance set into it. It was rimmed with stone, and beyond it there was a tunnel slanting slightly upwards with blue torches lighting the way. He let the antler fall from the man’s throat. What was he to do now? He had no pack, no food, no rations to speak of. The Mayor spoke up, rubbing his throat as he did so.
“If you leave, will you go without conflict?” He almost seemed to be begging. The Climber simply nodded. As he turned however, the Mayor put a hand over his chest, stopping him.
“Something is wrong, the door isn’t usually open.” That was when the climber noticed the rubble on the floor, the blade half way out of the golems broken arms. Head turned to dust on impact.
That was the moment the hand went through the mayors chest, and came out with his heart.
He had not seen the man hiding in the flowers, skin paler than milk, eyes deep bloodthirsty red.
He had not noticed that he had dropped the antler and had fallen backwards.
His eyes were focused on the heart, beating coming to a stop. Blood pouring out of the cavity in the Mayors chest. That was the moment the albino man turned to him.
“Oh. There’s another. You are not part of the assignment though.” He let the mayor’s body slide unceremoniously to the floor.
“You didn’t need to pay taxes, he did, and he didn’t. That’s the price you pay!” He tapped the side of his nose. He moved gracefully, almost like a ballerina. His clothes were the same pale white color as his skin, allowing him to blend in with the flowers.
“Wait, what else did I have to do?” He tapped his chin with his forefinger. He was thin and tall. Eerily reminding him of a spider. His every movement was over exaggerated, like a mime that spoke. Then a horrible grin spread slowly across his face, all illusions of mercy melting away as his teeth were exposed.
“I have to burn this place to the ground. Ah… I’m lazy though.” He pulled out a strange flute. It was blacker than black, no reflections played off its surface. It had a strange squarish shape.
“You know, the man who I took this from, he said this flute was used by the beings before time. Made from nothing or something like that. As I strangled him I was saying, that’s silly, something can’t be made of nothing! Alas, he could not speak. A small complication when your windpipe is being obstructed. I wonder what would happen if I play it?” He brought it to his lips, and blew.
Far above in the wastes that were once beautiful, the Second Plateau, the Yarl raised their heads. Deer the size of cows, spiders that were as big as tow trucks, all were beckoned to the sound of their original, the Flute of B’harat.¹
“Ah well, I didn’t hear anything. I hope it does something, or Roen will kill me! Well, he could certainly try.” He laughed as he stepped back into the cave, foot standing on the chest of the Mayor and consequently pumping even more blood from his now exposed chest cavity.
“Ah, just for good measure.” The albino muttered to himself as his hand whipped out from his side. Moving so fast it was a blur, it carved a large trench into the side of the cave. It began to rumble, and suddenly collapsed. Above the noise he could hear his farewell shout,
“Toodle doo, consider yourself lucky to have survived an encounter with none other than Iteration 76!” That was when the rumbling stopped, and the Climber looked to the far ceiling, where small holes were cut in for air supply and light. There, he saw a nightmare staring back at him.
¹ If you remember from the fact detailing the Planes of Nothing, B’harat and his followers used flutes to manipulate the Nothing into different forms.
End of Benji’s Fun Fact Story Corner #85