Scratch was still being quiet.

It was a disconcerting experience to the Postman, which he hadn't expected. He'd been anticipating the silence to be relaxing, a much-needed comfort after the stress of talking with Verse. At least it was one of the few reactors he knew personally, and she was even one of the more sane ones. If he was being honest, he was just glad that it hadn't gone worse. Reactors were more often spiteful than not, and he'd had everything down to his bones melted off by less kind members of their species.

Regardless, Scratch wasn't saying a word, walking alongside the Postman with a half-hearted cloak, eyes downcast. Just the same as before, the Postman couldn't help but wonder at the lack of sound the monster's tread produced. If he closed his eyes, it was easy to imagine he was alone.

Easy, that is, without the distinct sense he possessed that let him know there was an undelivered package right next to him.

Ben's guide wasn't growing stronger. If anything, it was fading as time went on, despite the fact they came closer by the hour. It was a novel sensation to say the least.

The Postman saw the obstacle in front of him and stopped walking. Scratch didn't.

One pale hand shot out and grabbed Scratch by the shoulder just as he went straight off the edge of the cavernous rent in the ground before them. The monster started in surprise in the Postman's grip and then saw the chasm underneath him, and an ear-splitting scream tore from his mouth. With shocking agility, he swung upward and clamped his legs around the Postman's arm, wrapping his scythes around his hand.

The Postman calmly pulled Scratch away from the ravine. After a moment, Scratch's eyes slid to the razor-sharp blades slicing into the Postman's hand and almost screamed again, tearing his scythes out with a meaty shhck. The Postman clamped his other hand around Scratch's mouth. "Quiet. I don't know what lives down there." He slowly pulled his hand away, and Scratch gingerly pointed at him.

"But your hand..." Scratch whispered in a horrified tone, curling in on himself. "I - I didn't mean to! I just got scared and had to-"

Shaking his head, the Postman held his scarred hand up. No blood came from it, and the gray flesh beneath was already beginning to slowly sew itself back together. "I'm fine. We have a different problem." Ignoring Scratch's heartfelt sigh of relief, the Postman took a brief moment to appreciate the broken silence before walking back over to the abyss.

It was at least forty feet across and stretched to both sides farther than the Postman could see. Chunks of jagged rock protruded from various points on either side of the chasm, but most worryingly, he couldn't see the bottom. A midnight maw of endless depths yawned back. Nothing could be seen further than two or three hundred feet down, but the Postman had the distinct sense something was watching him from behind its shadows.

A quote came to mind. Stare into the abyss, and the abyss stares back. Nietzsche, or so the Postman believed. Most literature hadn't survived the end of the world, but most of his works had come out all right. Granted, the line was intended to be a guiding quote to those who considered themselves heroes; that one should not overly contemplate evil, lest they become it.

The Postman didn't really think about evil aside from the evils of mail destruction and obstruction, and he had a feeling those wouldn't become a temptation any time soon.

Scratch scooted a little closer, eyeing the gap distrustfully. "I hate heights. I really, just - I can't overstate how much I hate them. I don't get people that don't mind it, I mean - just look. It's... nope." He backed away, shaking his head and crouching, looking a little ill.

Raising a hairless eyebrow, the Postman took a step back to analyze the situation. How had Ben gotten to the other side? Had a trench of this size formed since then? He didn't know how long Ben had been gone, but cracks of this size were rarely formed overnight. It wasn't impossible, of course - a world where Beethoven existed was not one without surprises.

Of course, the living city was far away and probably wasn't responsible for this.

He crouched, examining it closer. "Do you have any ideas?"

Scratch stared at him. "Ideas for what?"

The Postman gestured at the abyss. "Do you have any ideas for how to get across?"

The monster's eyes went wide. "You want to go over that!?"

"I need to get to Ben Dawson, and then I can deliver you to humans. Wherever they might be." The Postman stood, eyeing the abyss critically. He was strong, sure, but a hundred-foot jump was well past his capabilities.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Something about the sentence made Scratch stop talking, but he still considered the statement. "I'm not going over that."

The Postman stared at him. "Verse might be able to help."

"We can figure something out by ourselves." Scratch promptly started scanning the chasm for a way to get across, avoiding looking at the Postman.

The Postman picked a small stone up and gently tossed it into the ravine, waiting for it to hit the bottom. He didn't have a clue how to calculate the distance or anything along those lines - he just wanted to know how long he'd be falling before he could start climbing up the other side. A horrendously inefficient method of travel to be sure, but it was the only option he could think of.

He never heard the rock hit the floor. He did hear something screech far below, something which had more than one mouth based off the sound. His plan of jumping immediately went out the window.

Scratch stared down nervously. "What was-"

A blackened hand attached to an arm with far too many elbows shot from the darkness and seized Scratch by the waist, fingers longer than steel rods wrapping around him. Squeezing, the elbows began to straighten as it pulled back. Scratch turned to look at the Postman, eyes wide. "I don't-"

With a whoomph of displaced air, Scratch was yanked straight off the edge of the cliff and vanished into the darkness, a trailing scream following him. Without a moment's hesitation, the Postman stepped forward and plummeted down.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness in a fraction of a second, which unfortunately only let him see the thing clinging to the walls beneath him. It had a massive body, shaped like a giant C. Four legs, with an uneven number of knees and hooves digging into the stone at its sides. Two arms, one hanging down into the darkness out of sight and the other holding a shrieking Scratch. It had no eyes, but he could see at least seven mouths as he fell. Overrall, it measured probably sixty feet in height and twice that in width, and who knew how long its arms stretched. It was hideous, misshapen and deformed. No pity could be spared for such a monster.

The Postman had no breath to lose as he slammed into the thing's leg, and he clambered to unsteady footing, appraising the situation. It was slowly moving Scratch closer and closer to one of its mouths, crying out in fury as it struggled to hold onto the slippery monster. Scratch was putting up a decent fight, using his scythes on its soft flesh to great effect, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough to really hurt something of this size.

He had a brief moment to think as his impact jolted the creature, and he took full advantage of it. He wasn't built for fighting. He was based around delivering mail regardless of the obstacle, not battling some giant monster in an abyss hundreds of feet below the surface and thousands of feet above the distant ground.

But... now that he thought about it, wasn't this monster an obstacle?

It was preventing him from delivering the mail; more specifically, it was attempting to prevent him from delivering Scratch. Ergo, it was blocking him.

It was trying to stop him from delivering the mail.

The Postman ran forward, careful not to wrinkle his uniform too much, and used the creature's bottommost mouth as a springboard, jumping upward to hook a hand onto the arm holding Scratch. Gripping it with his other hand, he tugged and felt himself swing under and on top of the arm, corkscrewing his body and grasping his hat one-handed.

Scratch was still screaming, a high-pitched keening sound that bit into the Postman's senses. The young monster was now covered in the violently purple liquid spewing from the abyss crab's arm. An interesting color for blood to say the least, but the Postman wasn't one to judge. Walking over to Scratch, he seized one of the monster's scythes and deliberately cut himself with it before turning around.

Balancing on the creature's arm, he made his way over to one of the mouths, distastefully ignoring the strands of saliva dribbling from the corners. It moaned in anticipation as it brought Scratch closer to its mouths, its hooves grinding stone along the side of the abyss.

Leaning partially into its mouth, the Postman gripped his wrist, viscous pale liquid oozing from the cut he'd made, and squeezed a few drops onto its tongues.

The reaction was immediate. The thing dropped Scratch with an almighty screech of disgust and anger, thoroughly dissatisfied with the taste of radiation, rotting meat, and spiders. Scratch dug into its arm, struggling to pull himself up. The Postman yanked him up the rest of the way.

Scratch's eyes were wide in the relative darkness, and he held his scythes out in front of him blindly. Seizing him by the shoulder, the Postman bodily picked him up and sprinted towards the end of the abyss crab's leg. As the liquid that passed for the Postman's blood started to pump through the abyss crab's system, its movements started to grow weaker. Scrabbling for purchase on the walls, the thing's hooves slipped, and it began to topple into the chasm.

With one final explosive motion, the Postman jumped off of its leg and dug his hand into the stone before him. He felt his middle and small finger break from the force, but three fingers were plenty to support his weight and Scratch's. Planting his feet on the wall, he loosened his arm and hurled Scratch upward.

Before the young monster reached the apex of his toss, the Postman launched himself upward and snatched him out of the air, rapidly clambering up the wall one-handed. The gray light of the sky rapidly approached, and with one final throw, the Postman flung Scratch over the edge of the cliff and back onto solid land.

He tugged himself onto the rocky ground and dusted himself off, looking back at the chasm in the ground. He heard a distant thud as the abyss crab crashed into the bottom. It'd been a rather unorthodox method of getting across, but they were over and that was what mattered. Going back could prove to be an issue, but that was a bridge he could burn later.

Scratch was lying on the ground, staring wide-eyed at the sky as his chest rose and fell. For once, the Postman could hear his breathing. The Postman walked over and looked down at him. "Let's get moving. Ben isn't too far away."

"I think I almost died just now," Scratch breathed, panting lightly.

The Postman nodded. "Yes. But now it's dead, and you aren't. Ready to go?"

Scratch slowly rolled over, watching the Postman. "How often do you almost die? Is it... common out here?"

Considering the question, the Postman replied, "For most, yes. I don't die."

Scratch blinked, still lying down. "That's... relieving. I can, though."

The Postman nodded thoughtfully. "I've noticed."