Chimes

Chimes boomed in the darkness. Zero’s eyes snapped open. His raw throat raged against his ragged breaths. He felt his surroundings, finding his arms couldn’t move above his waist. His elbows banged against hard stone. The pungent smell of rotting flowers bloomed. Zero’s fingers splayed along the cold stone, lower back aching. Streching his feet, he came to the conclusion that he was in a box. 

The roof of his prison was soft. His fingers scratched against its woven pattern. Zero stabbed and clawed, his long fingernails tearing through the rough canvas. Padding fell from behind, layers of decaying wool turning to fibres at his touch. He sneezed.

“Which one?” A bored voice came from beyond his box.

“Here!” Zero called, awkwardly beating the top of his fist against the stone side.

“Stay still,” The voice commanded, “Last person lost some bits.”

‘What?’ Zero thought, freezing. The canvas above him screamed as it tore, Zero waited with his eyes screwed shut, something cold and sharp touching his nose. Blood beaded at the wound. The stench of flowers was burned away by the acrid smell of lantern oil. A man with sharp cropped black hair stared down at him. It had been days since he’d shaven, a black fuzz growing across his chin. Storm grey eyes peaked over harsh black bags. The face could only have been considered handsome in the most rugged, brutish way imaginable.

“It’s your lucky day kid.” Silver eyes said, “Happy Birthday.”

“We’ve got another one.” A female voice called. Silver eyes flipped the knife in his grip, holding it between his fifth and fourth fingers. He proffered the other three for Zero to take. Zero accepted, and Silver eyes pulled him from the box with incredible strength. The room was filled with small jars, clay pots and multitudes of chimes on long cords. There were many boxes like his own, laid in neat lines. A bell rang somewhere in the array, the woman moving with haste to its location. She hefted the heavy hammer she bore, shattering the stone lid of the box next to it. The woman looked at Silver eyes.

“You get it.” Silver eyes called. He slid the knife into its sheath. One side was a blade sharp enough to cut a hair in half longways. The other side had a blocked, serated edge to it. He opened the glass pane of the lantern with his free hand, then drew a cigarette from seemingly nowhere. Silver eyes took a long drag as he stared down Zero. “Stop staring.”

Zero looked away, then caught himself. “What’s going on?”

Silver eyes continued to stare him down. He loosed the smoke from the side of his mouth, the translucent grey swirling in the dark. He wore a plain white shirt over his heavy-set build. On his left shoulder a pattern was sown in black thread. Silver eyes shifted, and Zero lost sight of it. The woman clanked towards them, wearing half a set of plate. Vambraces, gloves, shins and shoulders all covered in metal. Her head was free. She was as thick as Silver eyes and half as pretty. The lines of her face were hard, framed by straw coloured hair.

A smaller person padded at her side, wrapped in a black cloak. They kept their face hidden from the lamp light, shying away when Silver eyes stared at her. He took a final drag from his cigarette then stomped it out beneath his black boots. They stood in silence, listening for the telltale ring. Nothing came. The woman flicked a worried glance at Silver eyes whose face remained a stone.

“We’re leaving.” Silver eyes said, bored.

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The woman’s mouth fell open. “Only two? Captain, I know for a fact Sevens pulled at least four. Can’t we wait, listen for more?” Silver eyes walked away, flicking a lazy finger upwards. Deep above them, a bell tolled, each beat a dying finality. The woman hung her head and followed, the small figure shadowing her movements.

Whispers passed among the boxes behind Zero. He turned, coming to a dreaded realisation. They weren’t just boxes. They were coffins. Meaty fingers dug into Zero’s shoulder. “You heard nothing.” Silver eyes said, pushing him towards the now lantern-holding woman. He produced another cigarette, sticking it between his teeth. The coffins remained dead.

He tapped the centre of his forehead, then held his hand out to the coffins. He let the cigarette drop from his lips unlit, unstomped. He walked away in the silence of the damned. The woman led the party through crypt after crypt, climbing higher. She guided them amongst pitfalls, pressure pads and a variety of other traps.

The musty damp that pervaded the inner sanctums turned dry. There was a surprising lack of bones, considering how many had been buried there. Zero did not want to know where they were now. Steel gates held closed by large steel links halted their advance. The woman pulled a ring of keys from her belt, selecting a rusted iron one. It slid into the lock with a thunk. The woman strained to turn it. Silver eyes waited as she grew flustered, then stepped in. Drawing his knife, he severed the lock from the gate.

The woman looked at him aghast. “That lock has stood a thousand years!”

“No. Gurd broke the original thirty years ago,” Silver eyes said, pushing the gate open. “You two. Through.” He pointed a finger towards a hole in the ceiling. Rafters made of wood, bound together by rope and set apart by ladders made a winding path to the top. Neither Zero or the cloaked girl moved. Silver eyes shrugged, leading the way.

The woman didn’t follow, kneeling and clutching the two lock pieces close to her chest. She mumbled to herself, “It can be fixed. Gata is lying. This is real. All real.” She swayed back and forth as though she was cradling a baby to sleep. Zero gave her a wide berth, the cloaked person following in his shadow. Chills prowled his spine when they moved too close. As if sensing his discomfort, they darted away.

Zero opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t. What would he say? It’s going to be ok? He didn’t know where they were. Who they were. He didn’t know how they got here, or why they were here. It took all the inner strength he could muster not to have a mental breakdown like the woman behind them. He took hold of the first ladder – it creaked dangerously in his grip – and began to climb. His muscles were weak, tiring before he had reached the fifth rung.

               ‘What happened to me? I was never this weak. I was –‘ A horrible feeling settled in the bottom of his gut. He couldn’t remember. The more he tried, the worse he felt. He reached the first landing and wept. Memories slipped through his fingers like water. The framework of the rafters thundered and shook. Gata grabbed his shoulder in a sharp grip, snapping Zero to reality.

               “Stop.” Gata growled. “Don’t remember.”

               “How? Who am I? What am I supposed to do?” Zero shouted.

               Gata’s grip moved from Zero’s shoulder to his hairline, wrenching Zero to face him. His cold, bored gaze remained as he stated, “Climb.” Gata released Zero, shoving him towards the next ladder. Zero took hold of the ladder, pulling himself up rung by burning rung. Gata followed beneath him, and when they both stood upon the landing, shoved Zero again. “Climb.”

               The cloaked person  climbed after Gata, until they all stood at the top. The woman remained down below, continuing to cradle the broken lock. He turned, staring out into the blinding sunlight that streamed through the hole in the ceiling. Zero followed him out, Cloak lingered in the dark. Zero’s shoeless feet fell onto soft earth. He looked over a fertile valley, a town shadowed by the tomb, and a stone castle on the other side.

               Gata began walking down the steep incline, a dark forest between them and the township. He paused mid-stride and turned to them. He put another cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag. With his left hand he scratched the back of his head absently. “Welcome to Graveguard.”