And like a game bird on the first day of open season, Yves fell.
Through the rancid crawlspace of Casket Row, where muffled screams and frantic knocks hammered against unforgiving wood. Past the cries and giggles of the New Souls’ Nursery, dodging rattles and pacifiers along the way.
And further still—she hacked up her lungs as she dropped through The Incinerator’s smog, locked eyes with the blank faces plastered against The Waiting Room’s windows, and felt her eyes drift closed, lulled to sleep by the haunting lullabies trickling out from A Better Place.
Down, down, down. Then down some more.
It was there, beneath it all, that Yves came to—aching something vicious, covered in mud, and blinded by the light blooming above her.
Is this it? She brought a bruised arm up to block out the worst of the beam. It looked an awful lot like the ‘bright white light’ they’d talked about in the movies.
But as her eyes adjusted, Yves realized that the light wasn’t a single stream at all. It was hundreds—no, thousands—of little lights, zipping into formation against the dirt ceiling, humming like a swarm of stars running late for twilight.
A few strays dipped down, circling her like butterflies, pressing warm kisses into her skin. With each flicker of their tiny bodies on hers, every iota of tension drained from her body. Her racing thoughts muffled, that fighting instinct dulled. Acceptance took over.
And like a well-oiled machine, they coaxed her down, urging her deeper into the sludge below.
Well, if this is how I go… In spite of herself, a soft smile tugged at her lips. I guess it could’ve been worse…
She gazed dreamily up at the lights, watching through half-lidded eyes as they settled, spelling out a message:
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Welcome to The Beginning of The End, my child.
Félix, was it?
Poor thing. You must be tired.
Aren’t you ready to head home?
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Her dazed mind didn’t have time to process the words before a sharp burst of snaps rang out in the silence.
Yves glanced this way then that but ultimately shrugged the sound off, snuggling into the warmth spreading throughout her body instead.
But not a moment later, a cigarette-rough voice came from behind her, hissing, “Hey!”
Twisting around, she spotted that pair of wild eyes floating off in the distance, pupils blown wide. “What’re you doing? Move!”
Huh?
In the time it took her to loll her head back around, the lights and their singing had already vanished, drowning the room in a black silence… save for the sound of bare feet making a quick exit.
It took a moment, but piece by piece, everything came back to her—the fountain, that geezer, her money. She hauled herself to her elbows, wincing through the pain. But before she could shout after Félix, a quiet rumble stirred up from behind the walls—threatening but distant. Creeping.
Like a warning.
One that Yves didn’t need to hear twice.
Grimacing, she clambered to her feet and limped after Félix. She pulled herself one step, then two… before her foot landed on a ruthlessly jagged rock. A cry tore through her as a throbbing sensation spread across her sole.
She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth, but the damage was already done—as if in response, that faint rumble grew into a deep growl. It boomed through the room, thrashing the walls with the sheer force of its soundwaves.
Adrenaline took the wheel, numbing Yves just enough for her to make a wobbly dart forward. But then, just as she thought she might outrun it, whatever it was, she ran face first into a solid dirt wall. Her vision spun as she fell, head smacking into the mud.
Yves didn’t have time to recover before the lights flickered back on, their eerie glow filling the space once more.
But this time, their dance was slow. Deliberate.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Their pure brilliance soured, some dimming to a dingy beige while others burned to a bloody red. Their cheerful hum flattened into a dull drone, a dark undercurrent of the roar still racking the room. This time, they spelled out:
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Félix Viasma,
You''ve returned.
Retrieval commencing.
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The strays circled overhead with the targeted ferocity of a pack of wolves closing in on their prey. They swirled lower and lower, their heavy presence forcing Yves down into the mud again.
And all Yves could do was stare back in wide-eyed horror, limbs leaden, mind slurred under their flashing haze.
But just when the mud was starting to climb up the sides of her face, a pair of arms jutted into her vision.
Those panicked eyes loomed over her, darting between her submerging body and the descending swarm. Slippery hands, foreign sweat droplets, and expensive perfume overwhelmed her senses as Félix struggled to unearth her.
In the light flashes, she saw the man desperately mouthing something to her. One word, over and over again, each instance more insistent than the last. But for the life of her, she just couldn’t make it out.
His thin arms trembled under her weight, breaths coming out in huffs. He yanked at her mud-caked shoulders. Tried to lift her by her feet. But to no avail.
In a last ditch effort, he laced his fingers between what was exposed of hers and pulled back with all his might. With a final grunt, he toppled backwards, wrenching her free.
Again, the lights and sounds died immediately.
“Christ,” he muttered, more to himself than Yves. He wiped the sweat from his brow and felt around in the mess until he found her limp arms. Grumbling to himself, Félix dragged her body through the mud, onto the dirt, and then down a tight corridor.
Once the two were tucked in the shadows beyond the lights’ reach, Yves’ body began to recalibrate. And her mind wasn’t too far behind.
Each sensation crashed into her all at once—Félix’s clammy grip on her wrists; the back of her head thumping against tree roots, rocks, and every other kind of debris; the sinking feeling that she’d bitten off more than she could chew.
Each piece of the puzzle sent a new surge of rage through her body—a fresh reminder of whose fault it was that she’d found herself in this upside-down hellscape in the first place. By the time he’d stopped, leaving her squished like a sardine between a rock and a hard place, her lip was sore from being hitched up in a snarl for so long.
And she couldn’t take it anymore.
In one fell swoop, Yves forced herself up and reached into the darkness, hands perfectly poised to wring his neck once she got hold of it. A tirade coated in venom gnawed at the backs of her teeth, but. At the sound of the man swallowing harshly, she faltered.
“Look.”
There was something about the gravelly command, either its urgency or the shaky exhale that followed it, that had her casting a worried glance into the blackness over her shoulder. “Not literally, kid,” he sighed. “Just, stop.”
And right on cue, a door swung open, jolting their little break in the wall with a resounding thud.
A mismatched duo of thunderous footsteps poured into the room. One set rushed off into the mud, blasting the air with splashes as heavy crashing waves. But the other set lingered, moving painfully slow just outside the entryway. Its boots beat craters into the ground, rattling Yves’ ribcage with each step.
Boom… boom… boom.
Skrtch. A pivot.
Boom… boom… Sluck.
A pause, then a sound of pure disgust—
Snick.
It was a sound Yves couldn’t parse out.
Click. Click. Click.
There was a bit of fidgeting before a thin strip of light appeared, aimed down at the ground.
Silence. Then… Scratch.
Something sharp scraped against the cold dirt like nails on a chalkboard.
Then, a buttery coo came—“No… no, no, no. Oh, no.”
A low, disbelieving chuckle trickled into their little hideaway. Each beat of laughter landed like a sucker punch to Yves’ gut. “Félix. Darling. I’m sorry to laugh, but. This is beneath you, isn’t it?”
The taunts had Félix inching back, moving carefully, but still making too much noise for Yves’ liking. She leaned in, whispering, “Where do you think you’re—?”
And suddenly, the mud sloshing stopped.
“Over here. Looks like our squatter’s getting sloppy.”
The wet clomping picked up again, though more uncertain this time. Led by gentle instructions, the accomplice drew closer. “That’s it, I’m this way… No, to your right… Careful, there’s a rock to your left…”
Whenever the voice spoke, Félix used the chance to slip further into the darkness. Yves gritted her teeth, whispering protests at every shuffle of his feet.
But as Félix’s fragrance grew more and more faint and their second guests’ footsteps came too close for comfort, anxiety kicked in.
She had no choice but to scramble off after Félix, mistiming her movements by just a fraction of a second each time. The sound of her knees coming down to the ground seemed amplified to her ear, drowning out the call-and-response happening just a stone’s throw away.
Sooner than she would have hoped, Yves found herself at a dead end. She groped blindly around her, but found nothing but loose dirt crumbling between her fingers. The realization came like a punch to the gut—she was too late. He’d left her.
Yves choked down the lump in her throat. “Mister—” Before she could say his name, he snatched her ear in an iron grip, dragging her off to safety.
Just in time, too.
The two settled into their new spot just as the room quieted again.
“Feel that?” Yves could hear the smirk in the velvety voice this time, just barely audible over the sound of leather snagging against a knife. “I know the consistency’s a little… runnier than you’re used to. But you can guess what this is, right?”
The companion gasped as they connected the dots.
“Exactly. Not only did our little rat leave a trail of mud and blood for me to get all over my boots, no, no, no.” The insidious grate in the velvety voice sent shivers down Yves’ spine. “It led us right to its doorstep, too.”
The light turned in an instant, streaming down the tight corridor. With mechanical precision, it slunk across every square centimeter of the hall as ragged, anticipatory breaths bounced against the walls.
And all the while, Yves sat frozen, eyes set on the spot inches away from her, just outside of the beam’s glare—the spot marked by the burgundy pool of blood, still flowing from her gushing sole.