The tunnel was empty, barren of life, and yet it still smelled horrible. Lidiyana had not visited the ocean yet in her own memory, but this place reminded her of it in the worst possible way. She could almost taste the brine in the air when she breathed like the olives she had tasted just a week before. The stony earth beneath her scraped with every step, and echoed out into the dim, cramped hall - there was barely enough space for her to stand upright, and even then she had to stoop slightly to avoid hitting the top of her head against the ceiling. 

It was only a matter of time before her pursuant showed up. If she was miraculously lucky, she could find a way out before then.

She forced the thought out of mind. It wasn’t helpful to her here. She cleaned her face of the tears, and kept moving, her cane forcefully striking the ground with each stride. 

She slowed to catch her breath again before chiding herself. She couldn’t slow down until she was safe. She was feeling horrifically foolish as well. She was the one who insisted on the entire endeavor, and made Gareth want to take her down.

She came to a divergence in the path. The one to the left lead to a set of rough spiral stairs upwards, with water trickling down them, and the one to her right lead to another blackened ramp, ever downwards. Directions weren’t always intuitive in the Underworld but this far down upwards was always a good bet. As she proceeded up the stairs, another rumbling came, like the one she heard with Gareth. 

She didn’t have much time now. The stairs led into a room covered in thousands of haphazard scribblings in white chalk, forming some kind of diagram spread out over an entire room. There were four exits here, each identical and made from the same pink-speckled rock. The water only trailed through one. 

An incline, she reasoned. 

She proceeded through as the second rumbling came. She reviewed the facts in her mind. The pursuant would be uniquely unsettling to her; how so, she could not remember. The pursuant would only be capable of speed in extremely short bursts; if she kept a steady walking pace, she could outrun it for a long while. The pursuant can be deterred by certain elements, even killed, but it always returns. She checked the oil reservoir on the lamp. 

Enough for just under an hour if she lasted that long. 

She reached the next room, and the shade of the rock changed gradually from pinkish to a deep bloodstained red. Cinnabar, she guessed, though she had only heard about it in books. That didn’t bode well for her lungs but there were more pressing issues for her to deal with at the present. There was a heavy looking door before her, water leaking from under it. Her steps kicked up red dust as the third rumble came at its loudest, bassy and low to the point that she felt it in her chest. She held up the light as she looked behind her, staring back into the darkness.

What stared back was a deep red light that was too dark to reckon by, not through these thick shadows. A bare foot staggered into the lamplight, emaciated and bearing crooked nails. As she took a step back,  the thing took a step forward, in its full, terrible force. A black ram’s head covered the pursuant’s face, and around it grew a burning red ring of flame that hurt to look at. The shadows did not merely surround it; they wreathed it black about its breast and mismatched, loping arms, one extended out to point a single bony finger at her. 

Lidiyana forced the door open and threw herself through it to the other side, tramping through the water as the thing yelled behind her. 

It whispered in her ear, and immediately she whipped around, but it was still far behind her, trodding forward. In spite of this, its moans sounded as if it was right upon her - she could even feel its hot breath on her cheek as she listened to its babble of asemic syllables.

The trickle of water grew deeper and deeper within a crimson divet in the ground, which faded into the blackstone once more as the sound of distant water intensified. The corridor wound, turned, then again, and again. She looked back again. The shadows covered the Ram-Head; if its anathema was water, it was good at hiding it. 

Her mind ran cold against the idea of the pursuant and what glimpses she caught of it, and each footfall had become a thorough agony, only propelled along by the force of her arms. The body that laid beneath that ram’s head and those thick shadows was not of her world, of the surface, of the sun, of Gareth, of anything she could recall, and yet deep in her mind she had already convinced herself on a primal level that it was like her; that it was a sister to her. She could not explain why, but the thought remained. 

The thin corridor soon gave way to a slightly wider one, the stone as dark and thick under her lamplight as tar. Just beyond the edge there laid a deep, long pool of water. It shimmered golden beneath the lamplight. The Ram-Head whispered in her ear as the red glow continued to approach.

She hesitated, then stowed her cane on her belt and began into the water.

The water was as cold as winter as Lidiyana walked in, and the ram-headed pursuant did not follow. Water, then, was an anathema to it. She still didn't dare look back. Each step billowed her dress, and awkwardly made her cane float. She could see clear through to the black stone floor with the light of her lamp. She took her rope, and tied her cane about her waist. It wouldn't help her here, and she kept moving, the water going past her shins to her knees, past her knees to her hips, past her hips to the bottom of her chest. 

She pressed on, and the whispering stopped, leaving only her, the rippling of the water, the flickering of her lamp and the frantic sound of her breath. 

And soon, the water was up to her chest, and the ceiling began to incline down, until she was barely able to hold the lantern and her head above the water.

There was no turning back. If she turned back, she'd have to stare down the ram-faced thing again, and she would face the toll of coming here. 

She continued until only her face was vertical and the lantern dipped into the water, kicking her legs to stay even.

She kept kicking, trying to move forward. The lantern was half-submerged. 

She took a breath in as she went under for the first time, her vision blurring until she could only see the orange flickering light held above her. She resurfaced, once, twice.

No turning back.

She went fully under, and the light went out.

Without direction, sight or weight, she violently kicked herself forward through the inky black.

Her lungs burned. They ached. She bumped against the stony ceiling once, twice, scrabbling along it and propelling herself forward until there was no more air, no more force for her muscles to rely on, her vision red.

And as she kicked more and more the red pulsated and fibrillated like a heart under electric shock, and opened like a pomegranate into ten-thousand opening pores. The pores dissipated and interconnected through the red fibrils until they formed a face above her, so distantly familiar and cold and warm all at once.

Father?

She plunged upwards into the air, gasping and coughing up the salty water. Her blurred vision gave only the vaguest impression of the golden light in front of her as she floated onto the abyssal shore. Lidiyana immediately fumbled, reaching for the lifeline around her waist. She sputtered further and sighed with relief as she felt her cane still at her belt. At least she could walk.

Then, her chest heaved with sudden emotion. Her father - she remembered her father, in fragments, bits and pieces of scripture and quotations. She tried to keep her facts straight in her head. He was a man of religion - no, a drinker - no, a gardner - no, he must have been all three. A hermit? 

She made up her mind to ask Gareth about her father later as she cleaned her eyes of the water. When she turned to the golden light once more, it was now clear that it was, of all things, Gareth’s home. Her home. It stood on a vast, obsidian plateau, and it lacked the small stable where Svetland would be. Otherwise, it was a perfect copy with yellow lamp light shining through the windows. She waited a long time to catch her breath, then got herself to her feet. She might have delayed her pursuant by a few hours. A day at most. 

Lidiyana staggered to the familiar front door, noting a miniature moat of water surrounding the house. She’d be safe from it as long as she stuck within the confines of the thing. That’d give her more time. 

When she entered, her still-wet body was blasted with heat and it became immediately apparent that the house was not a pure copy of the home above it. Instead of a foyer, Lidiyana walked into what gave her the impression of the word club, though she couldn’t accurately recall being in one before. There were several stalls where leather and silk cushions sat, a broad variety of tables and chairs arranged in a decorative fashion, and a bar behind which lay what looked like hundreds of glass casks and bottles of various liquors and drinks. 

What struck her most, though, were the inhabitants.

In one stall sat two thoroughly nude beings, reclining on the silk couch. Each was pale and shiny as the meat of a fish, with grinning, pink mouths and a complete lack of eyes to define their faces. Smooth skin covered where their nipples and genitals should be. Their figures were bizarrely defined, one fattier and embonpoint, and the other with fine, svelte muscles. The fattier one opened its mouth to reveal dozens of fine, misshapen teeth in between overgrown, thick gums. 

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Lesser devils, she thought, mentally noting them. 

They could be a hazard, or a help. Either way, I should keep an eye on them.

Behind the bar, on the other hand, sat a rather weathered looking man. Three milky white eyes peered out asymmetrically from behind his thick brow and three horns rose from his wrinkled head in kind. Lidiyana noted them carefully as her vision blurred again from the acrid, salty water falling down her face. 

She walked over to a bar, and sat on a stool, resting her aching bones. The wetness of her dress made for an uncomfortable seat. 

He spoke first.

“You look like you could use some help. Do you want it?”

She looked him over carefully.

“W-w-w-what d-do y-y-y-y-you aa-aask of m-m-m-me in r-r-return?” she asked, “Aa-aa-and w-w-what d-do you o-offer m-m-me?”

He laughed.

“You stutter like a madwoman. Why should I tell you? You’re in no position to bargain.”

Lidiyana fumed.

“Y-y-ou a-a-aa-re a de-d-devil. Y-y-y-ou kn-kn-kno-”

“Sorry, I can’t understand-”

“Y-y-you can!” she managed to yell out, raising her voice in confidence, “A-and you w-w-will b-bargain, o-o-or I w-will lll-lleave.”

He sighed, and began to take out three boxes, methodically placing them one by one onto the bar. As he did, she heard a loud, metallic screeching from behind her. When she turned, she saw the two devils had drawn themselves over each other, the muscular one over the fatty one, a bright, silvery knife furiously raised to the sky. Both turned to look at her, and both grinned again. With one swift motion the muscular one brought down the knife upon the other’s belly, before twisting it until a vast slit was opened and red began to spill out.

Lidiyana looked back at the other devil in shock. He simply smiled. 

“That’s your clock. The more you look at it, the worse it’ll get.”

“Ss-so I c-c-can st-st-sta-stay a-as l-l-l-llong as I d-d-d-don’t l-look?”

“Precisely. As for what I can offer you, young woman, I have three boxes here in front of me. Each represents what you would boon. You just have to do one thing to earn the boon.”

“W-w-which is?” she asked as she brushed a sopping strand of hair out of her face.

“You’ll eat whatever’s in the box, and it’s yours,” he said, his face now deadly serious. 

He pointed to the first. 

“What’s in here will let you stop your bleeding through simple focus. The second will harden your skin to all manners of punishment. The third, of course, will give you knowledge of a hexe that can increase a person’s strength.”

Lidiyana wasn’t certain why he said “of course,” but she was totally exhausted, and at this point she wasn’t about to question the help.

“Ww-w-wi-ill y-you t-t-t-tell me wha-wha-what’s in the b-b-b-buh-boxes, s-s-s-so I kn-kno-know w-wuh-what I’ll h-h-h-have t-t-to e-e-eat?”

Her teeth chattered from the cold. Another screech came from behind her, and she had to resist the urge to turn her head to look.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

“C-c-can’t or w-w-won’t?”

“C-c-can’t,” he said, imitating her. 

She brushed off the insult as well as she could. If she was risking her life, limb and sanity for this, she wouldn’t leave empty handed. She wasn’t expecting to bleed any time soon, and strengthening her skin didn’t seem like a good idea while she was still in preparation for a surgery. She picked up the third box, and opened it. Inside was a rather small cracker.

Lidiyana shrugged, and ate it. It was dry and salty, but she swallowed it fine. As she did, her head throbbed, and a word - a symbol - burnt itself into her vision, bright as the face she had seen before. It was symmetrical, circular, with a set of symbols contained within a star but she was certain that she could recreate it if she wanted to.  

“Mark it on any person, and they’ll be stronger,” he said, “As long as the mark remains, of course.”

“C-c-can I ch-ch-choose a-another?”

“Certainly,” he said, smiling.

A voice raised from behind her, followed by a faint groan. 

“If you look back, I’ll tell you a secret,” one of the two said, “Do it. Look back at us.”

She ignored them, and opened the first box that he had gestured to, the lid smoothly coming out of its place. Inside the polished box was a massive centipede, which skittered and feebly attempted to climb the walls of the box on contact with the light. She looked on in horror.

“I- w-w-what?” she exclaimed.

He cocked his head. 

“You opened it. You’ll eat it.” 

“I- I- I- d-d-d-d-” 

Her hand moved in spite of her words as the devil stared on with three eyes, dispassionately watching her abject horror. Some nameless force drew her hand into the box, and it crawled over her fingers, entangling between them and coiling over them. She shuddered as she moved her hand upwards to her mouth. Her jaw loosened itself unwillingly, and the thing crawled into the hollow of her mouth of its own accord.

Lidiyana sat speechless as it scampered over her teeth. She couldn’t bite down. She couldn’t even bring herself to move. Her throat spasmed and gagged in protest of the mere thought of the vermin. 

Without her instruction, her jaw clamped down, crushing the thing into three pieces, then many more. The bitter taste filled her mouth, and pitifully, painfully, she swallowed, the chitin and ichor burning like fire as it slid into her gullet. She gagged wordlessly, then spit on the floor in an attempt to regurgitate the meal or remove some of the taste from her mouth. It remained.

“Good girl,” he said, “Do you want the last one?”

She shook her head, still trying to gag it up.

“Then, the exit’s that way. Unless you want to leave the way you came.”

He pointed to a set of stairs leading up; hypothetically, they should have lead upstairs to the study where she slept, but she doubted that it would be that simple. She got up, leaning heavily on her cane as she did.

The voice of one of the two lesser ones came again. 

“I’ll show you all the way up to the top, if you let me tell you a secret.”

She sighed.

She knew devils didn’t lie.

“I-is i-i-i-i-”

She cleared her throat again, trying to clear the taste once more. 

“I-is it a s-s-secret th-th-that I-I’d l-l-like t-to h-h-hear?”

“It’s a secret that will help you. Just turn around. Yes, it’ll be dangerous. But I will make it worth your while.”

She thought for a long time. Her legs ached. Her body ached. If she just turned around, she’d be able to go back up. She’d return to safety. To warmth. Half of her wanted to collapse onto the floor right now. The other half knew she had to get back to Gareth - she knew that he’d be heartbroken without her. 

She turned.

The fatty one’s guts had been thoroughly spilled over the cushions. The organs were whole, living, pulsating and thrumming with an energy almost visible to her, and they had bored into the wall into a striated, mouth-like hole large enough to walk through. The more muscular one sat with its legs crossed.

“You really want to know?”

“Y-yes.”

“He lied about the basement. No mold, no rats. Follow me.”

Lidiyana was stunned. If this thing wasn’t lying, then it must be that Gareth was.

But why?

Why had Gareth lied to her? She was his lover, the one he was closest to; he had taken her from the pit of a coma to life again. What, in all his devotion, could he want to hide from her? What secret was so terrible? She had read a hundred or more stories of lovers, star-crossed, tragic, mythic, and failed; and yet she was not certain if she had ever read a story quite like this. 

Her heart sank itself into knots as the devil proceeded into the hole. 

It looked back at her.

“Well, are you following me or not?”

She walked forward with more force, into the hole. The fattier devil waved at her and smiled more broadly as she past. She looked back to the bar again, and the organs had grown once more and from them had grown countless hands and arms, grasping and reaching upwards like a parody of a stand of grass. The three-eyed devil seemed nonplussed by this. That must have been the hazard that she would have had to deal with if she had looked back and not taken the deal. 

She followed close behind the devil into the dark, with the light soon proving difficult to find beyond the faint glistening from the lamps behind her. The meat-like floor gave beneath her feet slightly with every step, and shifted even as she moved over it. There was no doubt that it was still fully living. It was only after a long while of walking that she came to the conclusion that the devil must be slightly luminescent; there was no other source of light except the light coming off of it. 

After a long time of walking, they came to a door. It was bright red, with its handle made of burnished brass.

“This way, my girl.”

It gave a broad, sweeping gesture. She opened it, and walked through into the basement once more, red bricks and all.

In the after Lidiyana collapsed from exhaustion on the spot, but before she lost consciousness, a short string of thoughts went through her mind. She heard Gareth yelling for her, grabbing her, and picking her up. And somehow, that made it better. She knew he lied. 

But she needed him. 

He was her life-line, the one thing that kept her alive, and more than that she knew she loved him. And she was unconscious again.