The glowing skin finally faded into darkness, and suddenly, the old wizard looked different to Carl. His wrinkles looked deeper, his skin saggier, and his eyes looked sunken in under the harsh light of the orb above his head that contrasted starkly with the darkness that surrounded them. Orndorf looked out into the distance as if he could see. He never bothered to look up; he never saw the message written in stretch marks.


    “Aye, the liver should be somewhere that way,” he said. “Follow me, boy.”


    It felt more like a command than a suggestion now, and Carl obeyed. He stayed close behind Orndorf, trying his best to stay under the light, as they made their way up a winding rounded path of organ meat. Being exposed to the world did not make the path feel any less labyrinthian, with twists and turns that seemed to go on forever. But Orndorf seemed fully confident of where he was going, not breaking his stride to make any deliberations at forks in the path. It was like he could see the liver already.


    Orndorf came to a sudden halt and put his hand on Carl’s chest to stop him. Carl jumped from the wizard’s touch.


    “Just up ahead, there is a chamber,” Orndorf said in a hushed whisper. He placed his hand on the ground, and it wobbled gently. “Three men, or men-like figures. They may wish to do us harm, boy — perhaps physically, perhaps mentally, perhaps emotionally. So be on your guard, and don’t be too sensitive to personal insults!”


    Like always, Carl was moderately confused by what Orndorf said, but he nodded anyway, and they crept forward. Just as Orndorf said, a chamber came into Carl’s vision, only a few yards away. The intestines had ballooned up into a large sphere, and there was a reddish-whitish hole in front of them.


    “Through the entry-ulcer, quietly!” Orndorf whispered and put out his light orb. It appeared that the hole was too small from them to fit through, initially, but Orndorf stuck a foot in and pushed on its edges, and it expanded in a couple of quivering, jolting motions, almost like it was in pain. Carl followed, fighting the urge to apologize as he pushed through the orifice.


    The room was big, with a high dome ceiling and a line of torches that appeared to be made of bone and fueled with human fat. A stack of barrel shaped drums made of tightly stretched skin sat on the far side of the room. There were dozens of them, stacked halfway up to the ceiling. But there were no humans, or human-like figures.


    “This way!” Orndorf beckoned Carl, and they tiptoed towards the drums. Looking at them up close made Carl nauseous. There were freckles and moles on the outside of some of them. He couldn’t help but wonder which part of Father this skin used to be attached to, and who would’ve possibly made these barrels. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    “Right here!” Orndorf pulled Carl out of his barrel-induced trance to point out something on the floor. The intestines were bunched together in a gnarled, wrinkly formation, sort of like a belly button. Orndorf stuck his staff into it and wriggled it around. The belly button protested, closing back up each time it opened, but Orndorf did not relent, and it eventually gave in and relaxed. He tossed his staff into the hole and jumped in after it. Carl sat down and scooted legs-first into the hole.


    There were people in this room.


    Carl fell and hit the soft floor of another torchlit chamber. It was a dining area of some sort, with a long table, chairs and tapestries hung on the walls. Three identical-looking men with salt and pepper hair and close-cut beards stood together on the other side of the room, pointing staves at Carl and Orndorf.


    “It’s him!” one of the men said. “It’s Orndorf!”


    “You bastard!” another one of the men snarled.


    “We’ll kill you!” the third man roared.


    Orndorf put his hands up.


    “Arlin, Barlin, Carlin, calm down now. It was an accident. I will sort this out hastily. I give you my word.”


    But they weren’t interested in chatting. They held their staves in the air,  touched them together at the ends, and started to chant. Vibrant blue, green, and yellow energy swirled over their heads, buzzing, growing, interlocking with each other, forming knot after knot. Orndorf lifted his staff into the air as well, and Carl hid under the table. Orndorf started a chant of his own, and the triplets all went silent at the same time. Then they began to scream.


    They fell to the ground and Carl saw looks of sheer terror on their faces as they thrashed around, shrill screams coming from deep within them. Their eyes rolled into the backs of their heads and white foam sprayed from their mouths. Blood began to ooze from their ears, then their noses, then their eyes and mouth. Their screams became weaker and wet with blood, until they finally laid motionless, dead.


    Tears streamed from Carl’s eyes, and he was shaking violently, forever scarred by the horror he just witnessed.


    “Oopsie daisy,” Orndorf said. “Didn’t mean to do all that. Oh well — live and learn. Here, boy. Might as well take one of these.”


    The wizard raised a hand and one of the dead men’s staves shot into his hand. He bent over and presented it to Carl.


    “You could become a great wizard some day. I could show you the ropes.”


    Carl did not want to see any ropes that Orndorf could show him, and he didn’t take the staff.


    Orndorf got on one knee and looked Carl deeply in his eyes. “I’m sorry you saw that, but those were bad, bad men. That spell they were about to cast was powerful enough to blow this entire chamber up — you included. I did what I had to do, though I am not well-versed in attack spells. They are quite hard to control, you see, and I let it go a bit too far. I will do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen again. But it would be a great help if you could do some magic too, and I’d like to show you how. So please, boy, take the staff.”


    Carl crawled out from under the table, still shaking, and looked at the staff. It was beautiful, not anything like Orndorf’s bumpy stick. It was pure white with intricate carvings of griffins, dragons, and serpents on the top and bottom.


    He grabbed the staff and felt the hum of energy coursing through his veins.