“Mine are glowin’ yellow, too? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Unless both of us have already lost our minds,” I replied.

Some eccentricities are easy to overlook. Mr. Mosely’s glowing yellow eyes, however, weren’t one of them. His eyes—and presumably my own—had changed to be the color of gold in the iris, a drastic change from his blue and my brown.

“They weren’t like this before,” I continued. “You think it’s the water?”

“I can’t think of what else it could be,” he replied.

“That’s unfortunate,” I said with a sad sigh.

“That’s unfortunate? That’s unfortunate?” I could hear the shakiness of his tone as his voice raised octaves. “Our eyes are yella’! It’s not the worst outcome, but eyes aren’t supposed to be yella’. We could be diseased or worse.”

The ‘or worst’ part was what I was most worried about.

Mr. Mosely and I were sprawled out on the fourth floor around a broken vase—the very one we’d just drunk from, reveling in its sweet taste when we noticed the change. Our eye color mishap had happened almost instantaneously. One moment, I was tracing the runes on the wall, and the next, I was face to face with a piercing yellow-eyed creature. I’d almost had a heart attack before I realized it was Mr. Mosely.

Mr. Mosely continued, “I reckon the water might’ve been a bad idea. I should’ve waited a little longer. It’s been years since I went campin’ so I might’ve done things a bit out of order. I thought it was safe.”

He sounded remorseful.

“I’m not blaming you, Mr. Mosely. I hope whatever this is.” I pointed to my own eyes. “I hope It's not permanent.”

My eye color wasn't particularly beautiful, nor was I particularly attached to them. Yet my eyes were my eyes. Nothing could ever beat them.

“But. I mean—fuck man,” He stuttered out.

He ran his hands through his hair. The stress was getting to him. I could tell he wanted to stay calm and adult, but his face was the poster child for distress.

“No use fretting over spilled milk. Let’s hope the color is the only side effect. We won’t know until we know, I suppose, so it's best not to think of it. For now, I think we should get some sleep. My head has been pounding for the last hour, and my body aches. I don’t think I can handle waiting around for another discovery to kill us possibly,” I said.

Mr. Mosely reached into his pants pocket and produced his timepiece. It was like my own—fully gold with the watch on one end of the chain and a glossy black bearing ball on the other. My timepiece was in the inside breast pocket of the jackets we’d both left outside.

“Clocks says it is a quarter till ten.”

Quarter till ten meant we’d already spent ten hours in the labyrinth.

“I’m going to go grab our jackets from the roof. We can spend the night or day, Whichever it is, down here. When we wake up, we can see about exploring.”

“Should I go with ya’?”

Stupid question.

“You don’t have to come all the way up if you don’t want to. I’d be happy if you came up to at least the 1st floor, though. In case something happens, you know.”

“I’ll be right behind ya’.”

“Of course you will,” I mumbled under my breath.

We climbed to the top floor; I led the way. We’d already taken the path once, so the surroundings were far more familiar this time. Still, the ascent took far longer than it needed to.

Not to lay blame, but it was Mr. Mosely’s fault. Every time I turned around, he was bent over as if he were in pain and breathing heavily. At first, I was worried it was the ‘water,’ but Mr. Mosely quickly laid my fears to rest. He cited his age and lousy hip replacement. When I offered to help, he was quick to rebuff me.

As I waited for his pain to become manageable, I glanced off into the gloom and noticed something quite peculiar.

I could see.

It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before. Vases lined the ground near the walls, the wall markings looked the same to my untrained eye, and the door upward was still there. Nothing had physically changed, but I saw the room in a different light.

Instead of the oppressive darkness, a thick gloom was present. The gloom allowed me to see beyond the confines of what my light illuminated. I could see, from wall to wall, the entirety of the room.

“Hey, Mr. Mosely?”

“I need another minute,” Mr. Mosely grunted. His brow glistened with sweat. “I’m a bit outta’ shape.”

“Not that. Look over at the wall and tell me what you see.” I pointed to the wall farthest from us. Mr. Mosely looked to where I was pointing.

“I can…see.”

Mr. Mosely stood up straight and squinted his eyes to look at the wall.

“I can see,” he repeated. “Why can I see?”

Mr. Mosely stepped forward; his [shield] was still in front of him. “I can see! The darkness has lifted,” he shouted in jubilation. He turned to look at me and smiled. The shadows were no longer masking his full features.

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He looked the same but with better vision. I could tell he was much younger than I expected him to be.

“I think it was the ‘water.’ I think it helps us see in the dark,” I said.

“The ‘water’? How can that be?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest, but it makes sense. Our eyes turn yellow, and now we can see in the dark. That has to be it. And here I was worried.”

“We can see,” Mr. Mosely chuckled to himself again. “ I guess not all is lost. We might just be alright. Wait, Where are you going?”

I had summoned a [platform] mid-conversation. I wasn’t going to wait any longer.

“To see what the outside looks like. We can see now.”

I climbed upward to the exit, stopping only to say hi to Doug—the name I’d given to the chained skeleton. I hadn’t told Mr. Mosely Doug's name yet. And I might never.

I placed [platform] below the blasted hole and peeked my head through the top. The coast was clear. I pulled myself through the hole and onto the roof to look around. It was magnificent.

In the dark, my world had become much smaller. It was ridiculous to think that over a few hours, I’d limited my scope so much that I couldn’t even imagine what this crazy new world was like. As I gazed upon it, truly, for the first time, I felt small.

The buildings ran in every direction for what seemed endless, and the ceiling was so far up I could barely make out the edges of stalagmites. There were no notable landmarks or lights, just a sea of rooftops that turned to shadows the farther they were from me.

“Psst, Mr. Moseley,” I whispered. I was less wary with my sight restored, but the striking snouts of Blizards were still at the forefront of my mind.

“Yes,” Mr. Mosely replied tentatively. He’d made it to the next floor without my help. That was good.

“What does it look like? Did you grab the jackets?”

“It’s a giant cave, and there are buildings in every direction; way bigger than I thought. You can come up here if you want. It’s a breathtaking view. And the jackets…”

I looked to the ground around the busted hatch, where I remembered dropping the jackets, but they weren’t there. And I looked twice over. I glanced around the roof. It was empty. Jackets don’t get up and walk away.

I backed up toward the hatch, my head constantly on the swivel. Unless a great big wind came and went when we were gone, something had taken our jackets.

Mr. Mosely’s head popped up through the hatch. “What a view.”

He continued to marvel at the sight, but my mind couldn’t register his words. All I could think about was the missing jackets.

“Did you hear that,” I asked. I wasn’t sure if I heard something or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I decided to act as if it was the former. “Go back inside! Something was—is here!”

I rushed back toward the hatch, which was a good idea. Behind me, I heard a snarl and footsteps that were oh-so-familiar. I didn’t turn around until I reached the hatch where Mr. Mosely was looking on with a look of shock.

I shouted [Blast], and it flew straight, hitting one of seven bipedal creatures chasing me head-on. It let a gargled cry as it fell. But the others weren’t deterred by their friend’s untimely demise and continued to rush after me.

“[Blast],” I shouted once more. I was aiming at the closest attacker, but as soon as I finished the word, I could tell something was wrong. The streak of red flickered in front of my hand and quickly fizzled out. My head was pounding.

Mr. Mosely shouted something. I didn’t hear him. My vision was blurry, and the headache I’d been sporting had grown in intensity.

Streaks of red were shooting past me. Mr. Mosely was firing them off; his torso fully emerged from the hatch. Though he was missing, his [Blast] held most of the creatures back, but not all.

One of the creatures was close to me. It held a tool in its hand, a knife the color of bones—they were likely bones. I dodged the swipe it took at me and kicked it in the chest. The creature was smaller than me, thin and lithe, so the kick sent them flying just as two more were approaching. I lowered myself into a low stance and prepared to face them.

I didn't get the chance.

Mr. Mosely pulled me back by the hem of my shirt—enough to take me off my feet. I hit the ground hard just as something whirled over my head. Thank God for Mr. Mosely.

He dragged me through the hole, firing off [Blast] in between as he pulled me. We fell fast and hard with no [platform] to catch us. I even cut myself, squeezing through the hole. The blood was hot on my forearm.

“Haaahhh,” Mr. Mosely groaned. His breathing was long and difficult, and for good reason, I was lying on top of him.

There hadn’t been enough time, and I didn’t have enough skill to choose where I landed, so his chest had been my landing spot. Luckily, the drop was only about eight feet.

I rolled off him, ignoring the pain, and looked up at the hatch hole. The creatures, clearly not blizards, were around the hole, staring down at us with hateful glares.

Their heads were tiny in proportion to their bodies, and they had oversized eyes that covered half their face. It made their stares more disconcerting.

“Mr. Mosely, I need you. Get up! Please! The [blast] isn’t working for me!”

I glanced back toward the creatures. They hadn’t moved.

“Shane! Come on.”

“What did you call me,” He groaned in response. “We fuckin’ killed 'em?”

“No. No. They’re not dead. But they’re not attacking…they’re just looking at us. Kind of in a predator stalking prey kind of way.”

It was strange. The creatures made no move on their part to come in. All they did was watch as I tended my blood-soaked arm with pressure from my offhand.

“Are you still with me, Mr. Mosely? Keep your eyes open,” I added.

Mr. Mosely was sitting directly under the hole, his eyes flickering open and close as if in a daze. He wasn’t bleeding, so that was good.

“[blast],” Mr. Mosely shouted. From his outstretched hand, [blast] flew toward the hatch but missed close. It hit the ceiling and took a sizable chunk out of it.

The creatures—likely in fear of the red bolt—scampered out of my vision.

“Did I hit 'em’?”

“No, you didn’t hit them, but you may have scared them off.”

I wasn’t certain, but I thought I’d heard little scampering feet running in the distance. Either way, I kept my eyes locked on the hole’s opening.

“You're bleeding,” Mr. Mosely said

“Yes. Can you walk over to me,” I asked. I’d managed to crawl away from the center of the room quickly, finding safety near Doug, the skeleton.

“I did the magic. Shit surprised me,” he said as he crawled toward me. He was sporting a rather drastic limp.

We settled with our backs against the wall, sitting beside Doug and the second-floor opening. My head was still throbbing. I was not too fond of the feeling. But it helped to keep my focus away from the other injuries I'd suffered. Neither I nor Mr. Mosely had come out unscathed.

“So…what now,” I asked. I didn’t want to hear an answer.

But In true Mr. Moseley fashion, he replied, “We should…wait.”