“So, what do you think?”
Mr. Mosely and I were standing side by side at the edge of a building. The reason we were standing so close, much to Mr. Moseley’s chagrin, was because across from us was another building. Between the two buildings was a stone walkway as thin as a balance beam. The beam connected the two buildings, separating them only by about five feet if I had to guess. It would be an easy cross, even on a bum ankle.
“I think we should wait a little longer,” he replied. “I concede ain’t no help coming, but I don’t think crossin’ is the right way to go about things neither. Say we try to cross and slip off them beams. Or say we cross, and something is right on the other side waitin’ for us. I know you think you're slick with that magic, but it took me quite a bit of time to get up here. If I fall–and I will fall–ain’t no comin’ back.”
I wasn't the least bit surprised by his answer. Over the past few hours, Shane Mosely, otherwise known as Mr. Mosely, and I had gotten to know each other quite well. He was an old man with old-man tendencies. The first tendency was the tendency to care for those younger than him, which I greatly appreciated. My ankle was tender at the spot where the monster had grabbed me, and though he complained about my proximity to him, he still allowed me to lean on him. His other tendencies, however, I didn't much care for.
He was quick to criticize me, citing a lack of patience, and got really fussy whenever I tried to use magic. It was to the point that I could predict what he’d say next. It would be, ‘I think we should wait,’ or ‘Don’t do that. What if the monsters come up here?’ I was getting sick of it. He wasn’t wrong; there was wisdom in his words, but waiting out in the dark for something to happen didn’t quite vibe with me.
“How much longer should we wait? I’m injured, and I don’t think I’ll be able to walk. It's been quiet down on the floor for a while now. Nothing has come to destroy my [platform], and we haven't heard as much as a single buzz or click since at least five-thirty. They might not be able to hear us or see our light from down there. And I think the other Blizards you heard earlier left the area. I think it's time we leave.”
Mr. Mosely turned and looked at me with his eyebrow raised; His literally one eyebrow, as he only had a bushy unibrow to complement his curly gray hair and blue eyes. A line of crust was in the eyes, too. Neither of us had been able to sleep. “Blizards? Da’ hell is a Blizard.”
“The monsters down there making the noise, like the one I fought. I thought it was a fitting name. You know, bug lizards.”
“...Stop doing that.”
“Stop doing what?”
“Namin’ things. You keep namin’ things. First, it was calling the ground floor the abyss. Then, it was referring to this place as the Labyrinth. Young people always want to name things–Be the first to do something. Once you start namin’ things, there's no going back. It becomes something real, something tangible.”
“Huh?”
“Just stop namin’ things,” he said as he threw his hands up in frustration. Mr. Mosely liked to do that–throwing his hands up in frustration whenever I said something he didn’t like. We hadn’t even been together for a full day, and I was already starting to annoy Mr. Mosely.
“Fine, I’ll stop naming things, but we still have to figure out what we will do, and waiting isn’t an option. We need food and water and maybe shelter; I'm not sure if it gets cold here. And I need to rest my ankle without worrying if something is going to appear out of the darkness to attack us. Either we take the short beam on this side, or we take the longer beam on the other side. I’ll let you choose.”
“Well, I choose neither. If anything, I think we should see what's in the hatch first.”
Mr. Mosely glanced to the center of the building, and my eyes followed his. At the center of the building, there was a metal canvas the size of a ceiling panel welded shut by a set of metal bars. The bars, flat like wooden beams, were welded to the stone floor tile–which was already peculiar on its own, but there was also no opening mechanism. It was as if whoever sealed the hatch hadn’t planned on anyone coming in or out.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to use [Blast]?”
We’d already tried opening the door by regular means, but no amount of pulling or stomping had any effect. When I recommended we use magic, Mr. Mosely vehemently opposed it, and that was the end of that.
“Was [Blast] the loud one?”
“It was quiet when it hit the monster, almost like punching a pillow. But the little blast bolt hummed when it flew through the air.”
“We shouldn't use that one then. What about the other ones?”
“You’d have to let me do magic. Not-Pj told me two magic words I’ve yet to try so that I can try those first. Speaking of that, who did you see? Not-PJ was some…thing pretending to be my older brother,” I said with a grimace. The memory still made me angry. “Did that happen to you, too? Something pretending to be someone you know to tell you about this new world.”
“Pretending? That can’t be right. No, no. I saw my—an old friend. What the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout?”
“I don’t know who you saw, but whoever you thought they were, they weren't them. It told me It was something else, and you likely experienced something similar. It wanted to make us feel comfortable in the transition. It’s true. I’m not lying,” I said bitterly.
The look of shock on Mr. Mosely’s face told me he hadn’t come to the same realization as I had, and instantly, I felt bad. It was one thing to tell someone bad news. It was another to tell them something they thought was true was a lie.
He furrowed his brow and took a few steps back, causing me to wince in pain. I had placed my hand on his shoulder to avoid putting weight on my tender ankle, but with him moving away from me, I had no choice other than to put weight on it.
“I don’t believe you,” Mr. Mosely said. He ran his hands through his hair and continued to back farther and farther out of the light. I followed with [Platform], not wanting him to trip in the dark.
“I don’t believe anything about this place,” he continued. “The world shouldn’t be like this. Fuckin’ gods and magic blasts! What even is that? I should be somewhere tropical and enjoying my retirement, collecting social security checks, takin’ Golfing lessons, and doing other shit I don’t care about, but I do them anyway because what else am I going to do with my time–work more? Do you know how hard it is to work in HVAC? The state suspended my license twice. Had me workin’ as a substitute teacher at the local high school. And those kids, Goddammit, those kids. I mean, I’ve paid my dues. I’ve taken my licks. What in Christ’s name am I doing here in… I don’t know where? I’m too old for this! Too, too old. I mean, God, what could I have done in my life to be here in this place with you!”
Mr. Mosely had walked to the other side of the building during his rant. He was standing close to the edge, silently staring off into the absolute darkness. I limped over to be beside him. I wanted to speak, to say something to reassure him, but what do you say to a man who's lost everything? What do you say to a man trying to hide an expression of profound sadness?
The thought rolled around in my mind for a moment, and I chose to say nothing. I just put my hand back on Mr. Mosely’s shoulder to steady myself, letting the silence continue until he decided to break it.
“I broke my own rules,” Mr. Mosely said. He shook his head at himself in admonishment.“I’m shoutin’ at a kid with those things out there roamin’ about ‘bout to get us both killed. Go ‘head and do your magic, but do it over there, away from the edge. Be quiet, too. We don't know when those things will return.”
“You sure?”
Mr. Mosely didn’t respond. “Oh, ok then. I’ll just be over here magicking it up. I’d say [Platform] if I were you so that I could see. I don’t think another light will hurt us.”
I limped away from him and sat on the roof close to the hatch. He wanted to be alone, and when people wanted to be alone, you left them alone. However, I did keep an eye on him. I was scared he might do something he couldn’t take back. It was a morbid thought, one I quickly dismissed, but the worry was there.
When I saw he was content to sulk at the edge of the building, I put my attention toward the two other forms of magic I’d yet to use: [Shield] and [Ethereal]. [Shield] sounded rather self-evident, but for ethereal I was rather curious about what it meant. I decided to start with [Shield]. It was best to get the boring one out the way first.
I cleared my mind over the next few minutes with a few deep breaths and then focused my attention on my hand. After practicing a bit the past couple of hours, I’d learned to take the time to clear my mind to avoid the headache.
“[Shield]!”
The magic activated immediately, and [Shield]–identical in color to [Platform]–appeared before me. When [Shield] appeared, [Platform] disappeared. Thankfully, the darkness didn’t overcome us; [Shield] glowed like [Platform] did, but the glow was where the likeness ended.
The shield was an octagon instead of a square, vertical instead of horizontal, and as thick as the thickest glass. There were also faint white lines on the surface from the eight edges that crossed each other like the strings on a tennis racket. It looked sturdy, but I couldn’t be sure how strong it was. I would need to test it.
I reached out a hand to touch [Shield’s] surface, and instead, I touched nothing but air. I landed flat on my face. It was embarrassing. Mr. Mosely thought so, too. I could hear him snickering from the corner. He’d summoned his [Platform]. The roof was much more visible with the two lights combined, so I could see him trying to hide his laugh.
“Mr. Mosely,” I called out. “Seeing as you're feeling better, do you mind helping me?” I motioned to wave him over to the shield, and he obliged. The minute he’d spent alone was enough for him to shed his somber expression and don a stoic mask.
“How’d you do that? It looked like you went through the thing.”
“I think I did go through the thing.” I reached out to touch [Shield] again, making sure not to lean too far and watched my hand go through the [shield’s] surface without resistance.
“My God,” Mr. Mosely chuckled. “I must be losing my mind.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Can you try touching it?”
Mr. Mosely hesitated but did as I asked, and as I suspected, he didn’t phase through as I did. His hand touched a solid surface.
“What does it feel like?”
“It’s like this one.” He pointed to the [Platform] he’d created. “It’s a little warmer, I think. Man, this stuff is crazy.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. it’ll be useful if we run into any more Blizards.” I could feel Mr. Mosely’s piercing gaze as I called them blizards, and I quickly added. “Monsters.… Stand back. I’m going to try the ethereal magic.”
Mr. Moseley stepped back. I closed my eyes to focus my attention. Warmth swelled, starting in my chest and making its way down to my hands. I’d grown accustomed to the feeling of using the other magic spells, but practicing the magic while not in danger, with my dedicated focus on the magic I felt strange. It was like a drug working its way through my body. I felt hot and clammy but also exuberant in a way that didn’t feel natural.
“[Ethereal],” I said, my voice a whisper. My right hand went icy cold for half a second. The warmth immediately replaced it with the hot singing sensation that came when I completed magic.
“Is that it,” Mr. Moseley said. He sounded rather unimpressed.
I opened my eyes, and in the palm of my hand was a tiny ball of eerie blue light that was nearly transparent. In the ball of light, tiny particles of what looked like dust were floating around like tiny minerals in water. Its weight was trivial but present. And when I tilted my hand, the ball of light rolled around like a marble.
“It’s the spell–[Ethereal]– I think. I don’t know what it does, though. The other spells did what they were supposed to without any urging from me.”
I examined the ghost-like ball with intense scrutiny. For all I knew, I was holding a tiny magic bomb that would blow up in my face if I did anything stupid. “Can you set your [Platform] closer to me? I can’t see.” My [Shield] was gone. It disappeared like [Platform] had when I summoned [Shield].
“How do I do that?”
How did I do that? “Just think of where you want it to go, say the word, and it should show up there.”
A few moments later, Mr. Mosely’s [Platform] appeared close to me, but he remained a few feet away. I inched beside it to get a better look at the [Ethereal] ball. The tiny ball of light didn’t react when I brought it close to his [Platform]. I rolled it around on my forefingers and dropped it on the ground, trying to get a feel for what the magic did, but it stayed a simple ball.
“The last spell is just a ball, I think.”
“What does it do?”
“Nothing as far as I can tell. See.” I tossed the [Ethereal] ball on the ground near him, and he shrunk away from it.
“I’m not touching that.”
“Fair enough.” I walked over to where the ball had rolled, picked it up, and said, “[Platform].” The ball disappeared in a flash of light, and [Platform] appeared.
I continued, “Neither [Shield] of whatever [Ethereal] is is likely to work on the hatch. We will have to use [Blast] or go with my plan of building hopping. What do you think?”
“I think neither is a good option, but you're right; we do need to do somethin’. If I had to choose, I’d try openin’ the hatch. Buildings usually mean homes, and homes have supplies of some kind. If we leave here, we might not be able to get back, and maybe–just maybe–things down there aren’t attackin’ us because this is a safe building. I could be wrong but my gut says I'm right.”
“A gut feeling, huh.”
I looked toward the hatch in apprehension. The hatch and rooftops were undesirable options when it came down to it. The only reason I preferred the rooftops was because there were certain jumps in logic my mind could make about them to put itself at ease. I could tell myself, If one rooftop is fine, why not the next? With the metal hatch, I didn’t get that peace of mind. I was in a new world, and in a new world there was no way of knowing what was behind the door.
“Who am I to go against a gut feeling? Let's do it,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Getting Mr. Moseley to do anything was like pulling teeth, so it was best to encourage his actions. If this was the path he wanted, it was the path we would take.
We walked(I limped) over to the hatch, circling it a couple of times–almost as if we were afraid something would jump out at us, and stopped a few steps away. I stood in front, and Mr. Moseley had a shield behind me. It was there in case something really did jump out.
“I’m going to fire three–no five quick shots at the bars on these three sides,” I said. I pointed the sides out to indicate to him. “Once I do that, you’ll jump in front of me with [Shield]. Listen out for anything at the base of the tower, ok?”
“Don’t worry, I got ya’.”
“Alright, here goes.”
I put my hand out front and cleared my mind, allowing the warmth to spread through me once more. “[Blast], [Blast]...” I yelled five times in quick succession. The magic worked. Five streaks of crimson light shot from hands and hit the metal hatch with five dull thumps. I leaped back once the last one was fired and hid behind Mr. Mosley, behind his [Shield].
“Did it work,” I asked.
“It worked,” He replied.
I peered over his shoulder at the hatch and saw five openings where the blast had hit. The explosion carved the metal inward, and the blast radius was large enough to connect all the holes to each other nearly. The sound echoed out slightly in the darkness, so we waited briefly, listening for sounds of blizards or some monster to come. Nothing came, but there was a new foul smell in the air that wasn’t there before.
“What the fuck is the smell,” I said as we stumbled away from the hatch. The pungent aroma smelled like sweaty sewage with an after-smell of bleach. The smell made breathing uncomfortable. I breathed through my mouth instead of my nose so my mind wouldn’t have to register any more of the smell.
When I could take no more, I backed up to the furthest corner of the roof. Mr. Mosely followed me there. He was leaning over on his hands and knees, making retching sounds. We stayed there until the smell dispersed into the air; the air was still foul but not nearly as much.
I took a few hesitant steps toward the opening, ready to shoot [Blast] at the appearance of anything, but stopped once I noticed Mr. Mosely wasn’t following. “What are you doing? Come on. Let’s see what’s inside.”
“I’m not goin’ in there.” Mr. Mosely crossed his arms and planted his feet. He would remain steadfast. I could tell just by his stance.
“What do you mean?”
“I know that smell.”
“Yeah, it smells bad. Come on, let's go. Breathe through your mouth if you have to.”
“You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand?”
“Something died there. Smells like death–dead bodies decomposin’. We can’t go in there.”
I paused and looked back at the holes in the hatch. It was dark there. As dark as the world around us, besides the smell, I sensed no indication of something in there.
“We’re here now. If whatever, or whoever it is, is dead, it's more of a reason to go. We won’t have to worry about being attacked like down there. They must’ve got trapped down there.”
“I don’t know…”
“I’ll go first. Just follow me. Fair?”
“I don’t want a kid going in first, and you're injured. We should wait a bit. Something may come out, or the smell may attract something.”
“I’m going in. Let’s trust your gut.”
I doubted his words. If I had to bet, I’d bet Mr. Mosely didn’t want to go in first and wanted to pass the risk on to me. Either that or he was scared I might leave him. I didn't think it best to call him out on either assumption. My grandfather would say, ‘Best to leave the unsaid, unsaid.’
Mr. Mosely followed close behind with his [Shield] hovering in front of him. Unlike [Platform], which was stationary, the [Shield]stayed directly in front of him as he walked forward, maintaining the same distance from his face while in the air. “I’ll have to try that later,” I muttered.
“Try what?”
“Nothing, let's do this. ”
The smell worsened the closer we got, but I was slowly adjusting. I bent down next to the hatch, setting a platform overtop to see better. All I could see below was a dusty floor from what looked to be a six-foot drop. The holes were fairly large, and the two blast holes connected like a venn-diagram. It was wide enough for me to slip through if I sucked my stomach in a bit.
“I’m going in. Place a [Platform] right above the hole. I will set mine inside so I don’t have to drop down on my ankle.”
“Be careful.”
I took off my heavy coat and tossed it to the side. Mr. Mosley did the same. I placed my [Platform] below, and listened for the stir of anything below. When I was sure nothing was coming to bite my legs off, I stuck them through and slid down into the hole, wincing as my ankle touched the [Platform].
The inside was just like the outside, total darkness in every direction. Eerie. And quiet. I stepped off the [Platform] onto the dusty floor below and waited for Mr. Mosely to come.
“What now,” he asked as he reached the bottom.
“We explore very slowly and very carefully.”
We used our Shields as our light. The room was about the same size as the roof, as one might expect. We figured it out when we reached a wall, and the subsequent corner of the longer side of the wall matched the roof’s dimensions.
Mr. Mosely led the way with me right on his hip. I didn’t know what to expect. Neither did Mr. Mosley. We were both jumpy and twitchy. As we reached what was supposed to be the fourth and final corner of the room, we were both startled by a skeleton chained against the wall.
“Oh fuck,” Mr. Mosely shouted as we came upon it. I nearly shouted [Blast] before stopping myself. “Gahdammit” He continued. “I almost had a heart attack!” He went down to one knee, holding his chest.
“You, good?” I put a hand on his shoulder. It felt weird to be the one consoling an adult. As Mr. Mosely started to calm down, my eyes shifted to the skeleton. It was human-shaped, which in some ways was good to see, but in others, it was disconcerting. The manacles around its wrist and ankles were old and rusted brown, as were the chain portions. It wore no clothes, and there were no accessories nearby. It was a simple, plain skeleton like a person might find in a lab.
“I’m far from good.”
I understood the sentiment. My heart was racing too. Constant worry about the unknown hadn’t been good for my psyche. And the shock of the skeleton had done much to worsen my condition. “Whoever this was, it was their final resting place. I suppose this makes us grave robbers,” I said.
I leaned down to touch the skeleton. Dust covered its surface, but the bone was still hard. I retracted my hand quickly. Touching someone's bones was wrong. It was almost like touching them naked.
“How long ago do you think he died? It takes pretty long to decompose, I think, and I don’t see any signs of any organs or anything organic for that matter.”
“Probably decades,” he replied.
“Decades is a long time to be dead,” I said.
“I don’t think time matters to the dead.”
Mr. Mosely was starting to warm up to me. He wasn’t nearly as standoffish as when we met. Fear does that. He shuffled close to me, bringing his [Shield] along with him. “What's that?”
“What’s what?”
“That.” He pointed to the corner next to where the skeleton sat. I peered in the direction and saw nothing but the dust.
“I don’t see anything.”
“My old-man eyes see better than yours? Wait one second.” Mr. Mosely brushed the dust away on the floor next to the skeleton, revealing another metal hatch. The hatch didn’t have bars latching it down like the one on the roof. When he cleared the dust, the hatch was clear to see and was just big enough for us to squeeze through. He turned to me and asked, “Do you mind going first again?”