The Empty Mirror
Chapter 57: Brass
During my journey, I ventured along a path where the garden trees bore an apparently conventional appearance. Their trunks, of somber wood, stood majestically, while their canopies, shrouded in dark green, cast a haunting shadow. However, in this nightmare realm, normalcy took on grotesque nuances. Some gardens displayed a warm green, while others appeared withered, yet the quality they always shared was their bizarre essence, rendering them surreal spectacles in their own right.
A bustling pathway wound its way through this nightmare scene, illuminated by a strange glow emanating from lanterns suspended among the trees. These oil lanterns seemed veiled in rust, flickering in a yellowish gleam that barely managed to penetrate the dense fog. They inevitably evoked memories of Esme's lantern. They hung in great numbers, scattered among the sturdy branches of the trees, beyond my reach, as if the oil fueling their flame would never extinguish, condemned to radiate that dim light for eternity. Encased in an oil shell, these lanterns seemed to come to life, swaying and spinning in the air like hypnotic fireflies, defying the mist enveloping Hanging Gardens.
Amidst this surreal encounter, stood some bushes with a peculiar appearance, their defiant shapes adding even more mystery to this macabre sight. The twisted thorny bushes, wrapped in a verdant surface brimming with vitality, stood out with a lighter shade of green compared to the canopies of the surrounding trees. Though of considerable size, they seemed to stir, moving and intertwining among the trunks with an inexplicable choreography. However, their movement did not seem to stem from their own will but rather directed by a supernatural force governing that lantern-lit pathway. The bushes approached me with their thorns, while I, unperturbed by their peculiarity, pushed them aside with my walking stick. The scene evoked the absurdity of a botched comedy, as if plucked from the most mundane passages of some dubious-quality joke book.
Nevertheless, the bushes, indirectly, lacerated my skin with their thorns as they swirled around me, diverting me from the path I intended to follow, as if guided by the chilly wind carrying the sinister breath of loneliness. Some of them reached such heights that they obstructed my vision, plunging me into a green sea of yellowing leaves. However, after a long period of struggle, I managed to free myself from this vegetal labyrinth, reflecting on the journey that, while Hanging Gardens and the forest of anomaly were not so dissimilar in their extravagance, while "Ace of Wands" shielded me from the outside world, Hanging Gardens stood as a nightmare, an aberration seeking to snatch away my life with its spawn, in a constant state of agony.
Across the terraces lay pools of stagnant, black water, like remnants of a never-happened rain. Amidst this amalgam of darkness, I spotted a stream that, at first glance, ignited hope in my heart of finding crystalline water, thanks to its subtle glow. However, as I approached, leaning on my walking stick, I discovered that its shine was more intense, yet more disturbing.
Upon closer inspection, it revealed its secret: fish-like shapes that resembled automatons encased in metal. They moved with a metallic whisper, each of their motions resonating like gears in motion, gliding in a mechanical ballet. Their bodies, forged in rusted metal and brass, exposed their mechanical innards as they swam in circles. Their tails, reptilian-like, curved upwards in a simulation of eyebrows, tapering into sharp points, evoking the penetrating gaze of an eye. On their sides, each fish displayed a painted eye, its light blue iris fading amidst the rust, as if a memory of a forgotten sight.
Thin, toothed metal zippers stood upright at the top, reminiscent of human eyelashes. When these fish crossed paths in their eternal dance, they seemed like a pair of eyes gazing into the soul of the hapless onlooker. With a captivating presence, despite their unsettling nature, these mechanical beings appeared destined to move thus for all eternity, independent of any power source, like silent guardians of a realm plunged into darkness. However, I noticed a peculiarity: they did not swim in water.
That stream, instead of water, turned out to be a bed of crystals, and with that, my heart sank in disillusionment. Liquid hope faded in the face of the harsh reality of a torrent composed of tiny shards of glass. Though the crystal, transparent and enigmatic, managed to deceive from a distance, mimicking the waters that once flowed, it was nothing but a cruel mirage. Amidst the crystalline debris, the brass fish sailed with disdain, creating a cacophonous clamour as they collided with metal and glass in a symphony of discord, echoing in my ears like the lament of souls lost in the darkness.
Standing by the stream, harsh reality imposed itself strongly, urging me to lean with caution to avoid falling into that sea of sharp crystals. The fragments, stirred by an invisible force, flowed like tumultuous waters. With a bare and trembling hand, I dared to take one of the crystals, so sharp and delicate that it seemed ready to cut my skin with the slightest carelessness. I decided to return it to its place of origin, aware of the latent danger it posed. The fish, distant amidst the labyrinth of transparent crystal, remained out of my reach, and I resigned myself to keep my distance, aware that approaching would only bring the risk of harm, with no benefit to justify the recklessness.
Venturing into the terraces of Hanging Gardens, I left the stream behind and encountered a surprising sight: a waterfall that defied all laws of nature. It was not an ordinary waterfall, flowing downwards, but one that rose towards the sky from the depths of the underground, like an upward stream towards the heavens, vanishing into the ether. This marvel left me perplexed, for what flowed from it was not water but a black, viscous substance, resembling oil gushing from the bowels of the earth.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
This relentless flow defied gravity, degenerating into a grotesque manifestation of nature. The current splashed with its black and bizarre foam, impregnating all vegetation with a necrotic and dangerously alkaline substance. The viscosity of this substance challenged physical norms, as it did not flow like a conventional liquid, nor did it possess usual density. Instead, it behaved like an inverted waterfall, a jet of oil emerging from the depths of the darkest abyss. This substance, devoid of order and not occupying all available space, defied all logic and understanding. It did not expand indefinitely or mix with its surroundings but remained as an enigmatic and disturbing presence in the midst of the garden.
Avoiding the black jet fading into the ether, I stumbled upon a cave whose twisted contours resembled the bones of the very abyss, an open mouth to the depths of hell. A stench of decay permeated the air, invading the senses with its nauseating presence. The cave's skin was covered in suppurating pustules and open sores, oozing a viscous and repugnant liquid, akin to the black jet that preceded it. The atmosphere was laden with an acrid and putrid smell, while the ground, covered in a fatty substance, writhed like larvae in a macabre vortex.
Every step in this underground enclosure was an experience that challenged sanity and tested the resilience of the soul. Yet, it seemed a safer refuge than the exposure of Hanging Gardens. Therefore, despite the risk of being buried in this cave, I decided to stop for a moment to rest. With the walking stick leaning on the ground and my arms wrapped around my legs, I sought respite amidst the oppressive journey. But my brief relief was interrupted by strange noises emanating from the cave's interior. As I attempted to leave out of concern, I found myself being pulled further inside, while the fatty ground flowed like a swarm of larvae. It was then that, on the surface of the cave, I glimpsed an egg, an ominous presence that foreshadowed danger and triggered a new chapter in my harrowing odyssey.
On the threshold of the grotesque and the surreal stood an egg of considerable dimensions, its cracked shell revealing an interior that seemed to be slowly disintegrating. A viscous and sticky mass oozed from the egg's edges, dripping with a repugnant consistency that defied all logic. The once smooth and gleaming surface is now marked by cracks and protrusions that seem to come to life. A pungent and putrid odour emanates from its interior, filling the air with an ominous and nauseating presence.
Every movement of the egg produces a dull, bubbling sound, as if it were struggling to contain the mass writhing within. It's a spectacle that defies reason and disturbs the senses, an aberration of nature that teeters on the thin line between the living and the dead, the real and the unreal. To my astonishment and horror, I was paralysed as I witnessed the birth of a monstrosity from within the egg. Although I had already witnessed the emergence of grotesque creatures in the bowels of Hanging Gardens, the pressure of the moment caused me to lose my composure. However, in a desperate frenzy, I managed to regain control and, without hesitation, fled the cave, not allowing the monstrosity to gain the upper hand. I barely caught a glimpse of its upper part before fleeing, leaving behind that macabre spectacle unfolding on the threshold of sanity.
The creature's head is a twisted amalgamation, with a prominent skull that curves backward, endowed with a sloping forehead denoting sinister intelligence. Its jaw, powerful and strong, holds an open mouth, filled with uneven, sharp fangs oozing black, viscous saliva, akin to burning tar. The eyes, situated on the sides of the head, are sunken in empty sockets, surrounded by a mucous membrane that gleams with a sickly light, as if emanating from the very depths of hell. They resemble lifeless white pearls, clustered around the sockets, as if the creature were deprived of sight, plunged into eternal darkness.
The nose, flattened and deformed, barely protrudes among the grotesque features of its face, while the ears, large and pale pink inside, stand as mobile sentinels, capable of picking up the most imperceptible sounds in their surroundings. They taper to a point, covered in hair, like the rest of its face and possibly its body, which is enveloped in black, coarse fur, imbued with grease and degeneration. It's an image that defies all logic and disturbs the mind, an incarnation of horror twisting in the shadows, lurking in the darkest recesses of reality.
I fled the cave without stopping to contemplate that monstrosity, feeling the creature's breath on my back as I ran at full speed. Compared to the horrors I had already faced, like the deformed insect and the voracious vine, this creature seemed to be faster despite its grotesque size and deformity. In contrast, the monster distending its stomach didn't even seem interested in pursuing me, appearing before me with slow, deliberate movements, as if it lacked concerns.
This new aberration, however, demonstrated surprising speed and agility, with long and nimble legs far surpassing those of a human being. Without a second thought, I threw myself into the undergrowth growing beneath the balcony, suffering only minor injuries thanks to the walking stick which, like steel, withstood the impact without damage. The dense vegetation cushioned my fall, protecting me from an even crueler fate. From the upper terrace, a path of stone rubble opened downwards, and I dashed down it without hesitation. However, the creature did not falter and within seconds, it was on the same terrace as I, lurking from the balcony. It had descended gliding with its wings, revealing its complete aberration before my astonished eyes.
This monstrosity possessed a broad and muscular chest, granting it the necessary strength to climb and move with agility among the tree branches. Its well-developed ribcage housed vital internal organs, if this creature indeed had such organs and not bulging masses of bloody flesh inside, corrupt organs defying all understanding. It adopted an upright posture, giving its chest a distinctive shape compared to other mammals, if it could even be classified as such, given its monstrous and perplexing appearance.
Its hands, highly specialised upper limbs, were adapted for a wide range of functions. With five fingers, including an opposable thumb that allowed for precise object grasping, and long, black nails resembling sharp claws. The palm of the hand had a fleshy pad that provided cushioning and facilitated gripping. The fingers, equipped with flexible joints, allowed for extensive mobility to manipulate objects with skill and perform complex tasks. Additionally, the skin of its hands, deep black and rough-textured, was highly sensitive to touch, enabling it to perceive textures and temperatures accurately in its environment.
Its feet, of extraordinary strength, are designed to propel it at dizzying speeds. Each one has two long, sturdy toes, topped with a large black nail. These nails, firm and sharp, not only contribute to the creature's balance but also provide formidable defence against any threats it may encounter. The skin covering them is thick and scaly, resilient enough to propel its imposing body during its races across the land, capable of inflicting irreparable damage in case of attack or defence.