Carol's Story; Part 3

Things were... better now. Carol took a deep breath, one hand tracing the wall, and followed the turn to the left. There was a pattern, the Minotaur had told her. A pattern to the turns that would take her into the center of the Labyrinth, where the exit was. There was also a pattern to where the monsters tended to hide, though they could move, and often did. 

The Minotaur, once he'd put his ax away, had actually been a very decent fellow, and while he couldn't actually tell her how to get out of this place, he had been able to give her some solid pointers. 

Pick a wall and stick with it. Don't second-guess yourself, just go for it. No matter which wall you pick, you'll eventually reach a place that will help you. If you last that long, then you'll do just fine.

For a bull-man, he had a nice smile. Carol shook her left hand a little, then returned to trailing her fingers lightly along the stone. It made her hand tingle, after a while, but it was good to have some idea of what she was doing in here. Her main priorities would be food, water, and weapons. Anything else was more or less extra. 

She had asked him if he wasn't supposed to be the scary thing in the center of the Labyrinth, like in the old stories, but the Minotaur had laughed. 

Maybe back in the old days that's what it was like, but the Guardian position is managed by the Sphinx, and he's more interested in keeping you lot alive than in feeding you to the monsters.

That was comforting, in a lot of ways. 

​Something moved in the shadows ahead, and Carol paused a moment, trying to figure out what it was. There were gaps between the torches on the walls, wherein shadows collected like discarded laundry in the corners of her bedroom. Ahead of her, near the next corner (not all of them were right angles, which was a relief, but a large proportion of them were). The person or monster in the corridor ahead wasn't as big as the Manticore or even as large as the Minotaur. More human-shaped, but somehow too... long. 

While she stood there, trying to figure out whether or not the figure ahead was a threat, it started to move toward her, and she realized immediately that there was something off about the way that the thing moved. Well, by "off," she meant "not human." Rather than walking, like the Minotaur had, or like she did, it - there was no other word for it - glided. She heard the dry rasp of scales against stone, and felt the memory as though it were a physical thing, pushing at the back of her mind in an urgent plea for attention. Standing in the sun with her father, leaning over the pile of rocks, listening to the snakes nesting inside, hiding from them because they were big and loud. It was the same sound. 

Hear that, Carrie? That means there are snakes in there. They might be rattlers, and that could be bad for you and me, right love?

Carol felt herself react, even though she hadn't actually thought through what that meant. If there was a snake that big in here, then it could eat her whole, and could probably move faster than her in any case. Already she was turning, starting to flee -

"Wait!" The voice brought her to a standstill. It was sweet and young and not at all what she expected from a man-eating monster. Carol half turned, looking over her shoulder at the approaching monster and wondering to herself if this was smart at all. Was anything in here safe? The Minotaur had been alright....

"Please, do you know where I can find water?" The figure was moving into the light now, and she saw that the monster was a young woman from the waist up, clean and well-dressed. Her face was heart-shaped, but the large, dark eyes were concerned, the pale brow furrowed with concern. From the waist down, though, or at least what Carol could see below the hem of the girl's long brown tunic (belted tastefully just under her bust - she would need to remember that style if she ever got out of here) there were large, overlapping scales and a single sinuous tail, weaving to and fro on the smooth stones as she slithered nearer. Some kind of a snake monster, but not a monster in the way that Carol had ever used the word before now. The woman stayed where she was, torn by indecision. How was she supposed to deal with this? 

"Um... no. I haven't found any water yet." Carol was surprised to note that her voice didn't shake at all, which was a nice change from the squeaking and unintentional screaming that she'd subjected her listeners to earlier. The snake-girl stopped, looking disappointed. 

"I was hoping someone would know where the water was," she admitted, and her tone was so downcast that Carol found herself taking a step toward her, wanting to comfort the poor girl. She didn't sound much older then fourteen or fifteen, though she looked older than that. Maybe she was an "early bloomer," as her mother would have said. Younger than she looked. 

"The ones that know where the water is won't tell you, that's for sure," she pointed out with a faint smile. "But maybe we can help each other. You came from that direction and didn't see any water, right?" Carol pointed unnecessarily back the way the snake-girl had come. The girl nodded uncertainly. "Which turns were you taking?" 

At this, the snake-girl recoiled a little, looking more than a little nervous. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, did you always turn left, or did you always turn right?" Carol was beginning to think that the girl was in the same position that she herself had been in until a few minutes ago, running blindly through the maze, looking for a safe place. 

Before the girl could answer, there was a low hiss from the way she had come. In a moment, something low and scuttly, with too many legs, rounded the corner and started toward them, hissing excitedly. 

"Run!" Carol didn't hang around to see if her new companion had taken her advice. Pivoting toward the way she'd come, a decision passed briefly through her mind to just skip this turning for now. If necessary, she could backtrack later. She'd almost made it to the second corner when she heard the scream. She knew that sound. It was the sound of a girl in pain. She'd been making that sound not very long ago, when she was face to face with a Manticore. Carol skidded to a halt and looked back. The snake-girl, face contorted with pain, was straining to get away from the thing with too many legs - a thing which was holding her tail between its pincers. 

There was a moment of agonizing indecision, where she wasn't sure what to do. But she knew what Jake would do, if he were here in her place. With a groan and a feeling of imminent pain, Carol turned back and started running toward the monster. She had clearly just lost whatever marbles she'd had. But at least she was losing them for a good cause. As she passed the girl's upper half, still leaning forward and straining against the weight holding her back, Carol saw the look of stunned surprise on her face, her mouth partially open and showing several sharp teeth. Then Carol was past her, pelting along beside the length of her huge, scaly tail. The monster that was holding her looked something like a crab, with wicked claws and a weirdly leonine face. What was it with Greek monsters and having faces that didn't belong to them? 

A second after that somewhat disturbing thought went through her mind, she collided with the beast, which was apparently just as surprised as the girl it was holding, because it didn't immediately move to attack her. Instead, as she collided with it, it released the snake tail it had been holding, and flipped over backwards, landing with a weird, unpleasant crunch on its back. 

Unfortunately, Carol's forward momentum threw her forward with the monster, and she landed on its belly, between the flailing, claws legs. The monster shrieked, making her ears ring and her head ache, and the many-jointed legs curled in on her, its claws catching at her clothes and hair and slicing into the first layers of her skin. When it realized that she was there (which took about as long as it took Carol to realize this had been an absolutely terrible idea) the monster started to claw at her more intentionally, digging the razor points deeper into her flesh. And just as Carol started to fill her lungs for a proper scream, hoping to stun the creature long enough to wriggle free, a pair of hands grabbed her legs, and she felt herself yanked free. 

Carol slid off the monster's belly with a very undignified noise that wasn't really a scream and definitely wasn't a squeak (but it sounded a lot like a squeak). Then she was looking up into the face of the snake girl, who was pale and scared-looking. 

"Run," wheezed Carol, whose eyes were starting to water with pain. She felt like she'd done a swan-dive into a blackberry thicket, and none of this was at all helpful to getting on her feet and moving. The snake girl, though, was surprisingly helpful, pulling her upright and starting them moving away from the monster. When Carol glanced over her shoulder, the thing's legs were still waving frantically in the air, and it was squealing like a wounded rabbit. 

When they were far enough away from it that they couldn't hear the horrendous noise it was making, Carol stumbled to a stop and leaned against the wall. "Okay. Okay. I need time to breathe. And figure out what we're doing, other than wandering aimlessly through a giant maze, looking for food and water." 

"I don't think trying to avoid getting eaten is completely aimless," muttered the snake-girl, looking a little defensive. 

Carol might have replied, but they were interrupted by something she hadn't at all expected to hear in this place. Music. She glanced at her companion, half checking to see if she heard it too, and half warning her to be silent. It seemed the second was completely superfluous, but it was better to make extra sure than to not and regret it later. 

Drifting on the still air, the sound of strings being plucked in what might have been an African sort of rhythm reached them faintly from afar. Honestly, Carol couldn't identify it, but it sounded like something she might hear in a restaurant, playing in the background under other peoples' conversations. She glanced at the snake-girl again and raised her eyebrows. 

"Think we should check it out?" she asked in a hushed whisper. Rather than answering yes or no, the snake girl just looked uncertain. 

"Are you sure it would be safe?" Her rebuttal was completely legitimate. 

"No more unsafe than staying here, I think," Carol decided, and nodded a little. "Come on, then. We'll just... stay quiet." 

"Like we would do anything else." 

They traded a quick smile. Carol was somewhat surprised to find that she already regarded this half-snake person as a friend. Trauma bonded people in unusual ways. As silently as they could manage, the two girls moved along the corridor, following the sound of the music. Rounding another corner cautiously, they heard some sort of breathy reed instrument (a wooden flute, maybe?) join the tune, underscoring a melody that seemed more and more like a lullaby. When the woman noticed that she was beginning to have trouble keeping her eyes open, she started to suspect the music was bad. 

"You feeling tired?" she asked, and muffled a huge yawn. It had been a long day, and it wasn't even sundown yet. At least, she didn't think it was. It didn't feel like it. Then again, that was a ridiculous thought - who knew if this crazy place even had a sun? They were underground. "This music is... funny...." Carol trailed off into silence and found that she was standing still. When had that happened? The snake-girl (she really needed a name, but they hadn't really had time for introductions) was ahead of her now, and turned back to look at her with a frown. Then, in growing alarm, she slithered back, her eyes wide in her pale face, one hand outstretched. 

"Don't go to sleep! This place isn't safe for sleeping!" 

Wasn't safe for anything. Silly girl. Carol swayed a little, disoriented by how sleepy she felt. The girl's hand on her arm steadied her a little, but didn't rouse her tired mind at all. 

"It's the music. It's making you tired. Come on - we need to get away." 

As the girl pulled her away from the music, half supporting her weight and half propelling her along on her own legs, Carol wondered to herself if the trap had been laid for humans alone, or if this was simply a fluke that snake-people weren't affected. 

"You will find another ally." The voice was familiar​, and Carol searched her mind for the memory. Something about cheesecake? She staggered and fell as the girl released her suddenly, and the stone floor slammed painfully against the side of her face, momentarily waking her again. With a yelp of pain, she rolled up into a sitting position and cradled the side of her scraped face, wincing. 

"Sorry." The snake girl bent down to help her up again. "I didn't mean to- I mean... that voice startled me and I-" 

"Do not worry, little one. You will find a new ally." The voice spoke again, nearer this time. The music swelled, and Carol was swamped with sudden drowsiness. Vaguely, she thought she saw a figure approaching from down the hall. The snake girl's long tail coiled around Carol's waist, and for some reason this didn't make her at all nervous. She knew, in the way a dreamer knows, that she was only trying to protect her. 

"What are you going to do with her?" 

"I am here to take her out of the Labyrinth. Her freedom has been won for her by one dear to her." 

"And... what about me?" 

Maybe it was Carol's imagination. The girl's tone was almost painfully wistful. She felt bad for her. She didn't want to leave her behind. 

"Your cunning will serve you well. Water is near. Do not lose hope." Something heavy and soft came to rest on her shoulder. A paw. A really big paw. Carol blinked sleepily up at the figure. The Sphinx. With the collar. She blinked again, and this time things wouldn't come into focus. It would be so much easier not to fight it anymore. Carol let her eyes close again and didn't bother trying to open them again. He was taking her out of here. Someone had rescued her. Jake? She hoped so. 

The paws lifted her, and she was so close to sleep, she didn't even think that lions couldn't carry things like that. 

Carol's Story; Part 2

The continuation of Carol's Story. Because I could. :) 
Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know what you think.

---

 The Labyrinth

At first, she couldn't move. Or maybe she wasn't brave enough to. When at last her lungs started to work again and her head stopped spinning, she realized that nothing, absolutely nothing, was as it should be. The light playing over her face was orange and flickering - torchlight. She could smell the burning wood and oil, and wondered where in the world she could be. The last few minutes were a blur, and all she could think about was the cheesecake lady and how mad she would be at the delay in getting a supervisor that didn't exist.

The floor under her back was stone, cold and mostly flat, though she could feel the joints between the tiles. And the air smelled like dust and sand and stone. Nothing like the stale bread smell of the back room at the mall. And she didn't hear Greg, either. Shouldn't he be worried about her? But... the mall didn't have torches.

Carol slowly sat up, putting a hand to her temple. She felt like she'd been put through one of those old-fashioned wringer dryers, squeezed from all sides until there was nothing left inside but apple sauce. Her head was still muddled, but at least the spinning had stopped. She was sitting in a passage built entire of blocks of stone, square and unyielding. The floor, the walls, even the ceiling was made of the same stuff, though the upper third of the walls had been carved with a skillful hand, like the walls in the Egyptian tombs she'd seen on TV. There were figures of people, and of animals, and lines of script that were completely foreign to her. Not runic, like the Norse letters she knew some of, and not any of the Slavik characters her grandmother had tried to teach her. The weirdest thing was that the letters seemed to glow, somehow.

Shaking her head the woman decided this, like some of the other things she was seeing, must be a hallucination, or maybe a trick of the light. Nothing was making sense just now, but she had a mounting suspicion that the "Labyrinth" the Sphinx had talked about was, unlike his riddles, very literal. What about Jake? Would he end up here, too, after he failed to answer the riddles? Had she doomed him to share her fate? No. He was better with those out of the box riddles than she was. He would be fine.

But where does that leave me?

From her right, there came a rumbling noise. Not like thunder or like the rolling of stones (she was reminded powerfully of those archeologist-turned-adventurer movies that Jake liked so much) but like someone with a really deep voice talking. There was no reply to the deep voice, and it seemed consistent, so she wasn't sure what it could be if it wasn't that. Carol turned her head and cautiously moved to the right, toward the sound. There were right-angle corners in both directions, about twelve feet either way, and no door or anything to indicate a way out. She peeked around the corner to the right, careful to keep most of her body out of sight, in case this was the sort of place she wasn't supposed to be.

Almost as soon as she'd looked, she wished she hadn't. There was a Minotaur walking toward her, apparently humming to himself. He was a huge figure, at least ten feet tall, broad-shouldered and muscular under the thick pelt of coarse brown hair that covered him from crown to heel. There was a battle axe strapped to his back, winking with the light of polished steel over his shoulder, and his only clothing appeared to be a black leather loincloth about his waist. His hands were big, with horny, black-nailed fingers (only three of them, apparently) and his feet were the hooves of a bull, cloven, black, and sharp.

The Minotaur's moist black nose wrinkled, nostrils flaring, then the humming stopped.

"I smell a human," he rumbled, and even at the distance of several yards, Carol could see the beast's eyes light up, as though with excitement. That didn't seem like a good sign. When he started to lumber forward at a swifter pace, Carol turned on her heel and ran. She sprinted, as fast as she could, to the opposite corner of the stretch where she'd woken up, dazzled by the torches flashing past her.

Skidding around the corner, already panting and wishing she'd taken Jake up on his offer of a workout buddy system thing, Carol found herself looking down another long, empty stone corridor. She ran, taking the first turn she found, then another, and a third. She only realized after the fourth turn that this was a maze, and she was getting herself lost. She paused, gasping, and looked over her shoulder, trying to listen over the pounding of her heart. What she heard was not at all reassuring.

The click of heavy, cloven hooves.

With a thrill of fear, Carol took off again. Lost was better than trampled, or chopped into little bits like kindling for the winter fire. She didn't want to die! She needed to stay alive and get good at this so that she could help Jake when he showed up - assuming he showed up at all.

The woman was still lost in thought about whether or not Jake was going to come as she rounded another corner and ran smack into something very big and very... muscly. Carol fell over, the wind knocked clean out of her by the impact with the big, solid thing. When she could gulp a lungful of air, Carol lifted her head and looked at the thing, and immediately wished she hadn't, as if by not looking she could have made it not exist. The thing she'd run into was the hindquarters of a large beast, crouching in the corridor. It turned, lumbering about in a circle to turn on her. The back half was covered in tawny fur, making her think at first of the Sphinx, but then she saw the tail, which was a segmented scorpion's tail, barbed point curled tightly off to the side. The forequarters were those of a lion, and on closer inspection the hind legs, though tawny, were shaped like those of a cow or maybe a goat, sort of boxy and bony.

Manticore.

With a growl, it swiped at her with one huge paw, and she felt the claws catch on her skin as they tore through the side of her shirt. Letting out a shriek of fear and pain, Carol rolled to her feet, staggered, and took off at a run, nearly smacking face-first into the Minotaur as she tried to backtrack. The bull-man grunted in surprise and lumbered to a halt, looking back at her as she slid past him and bolted.

Then the Manticore roared and the Minotaur bellowed back, and Carol heard the clatter of claws against steel, and she assumed the two beasts were fighting. What more could she do, but run? Trying to take different turns than she had before, the woman sprinted until she was light-headed and gasping, then finally staggered to a halt. Warm blood tickled her side as it trickled across her sweaty skin, and when she touched the bleeding area she found they were scratches only. Deep scratches, but at least they weren't gashes, or anything worse. Clutching the stitch in her side, the woman sank down to crouch against the wall, breathing hard, wishing there was something else she could do that would make more sense than just running.

"Lost, are we?" The voice was soft, almost pleasant, but too dry to be human. Much too dry.
Carol straightened a little, still breathing hard, squinting around at the seemingly empty corridor for the source of the voice. "Who's there?" Her own voice sounded sort of raspy, probably because of all that running. Somewhere nearby, she heard a dry chuckle.

"A shame, I think. A waste of effort, leaving a poor human here all on her own. Don't you agree? Some sort of hint or direction would be fair, since you were dragged across the Border."

The voice was definitely close, but she couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Then, with a thrill of terror, Carol remembered all those movies where she groaned and rolled her eyes and said "they never think to look up!" It only took a moment to brace herself, then she looked up at the ceiling.

There it was. It looked like a spider with a fat, shiny black body and a human face. It clung to the ceiling, looking down at her with a smile that showed protruding fangs, glistening with what she could only assume was venom.

It was all she could do not to scream. The spider thing reached down to her with one long, shiny leg, and she scrambled away, out of reach.

"Oh, come now. It would be an awful shame to put all that lovely flesh to waste," said the spider, still smiling, as though that was the only expression it could make. "Come here, human. I'll be sure it's quick." The spider thing was creeping down from the ceiling. It didn't seem to be very fast. Adrenaline pounding through her veins, Carol leapt to her feet and ran for her life. Again. This time, she stopped when she found an empty place far enough away from the spider thing to be relatively safe.

"I'm gonna die," she murmured to herself, covering her face with both hands, but keeping her ears alert for the sound of anything approaching. At least so far, things had been decent enough to warn her before attacking. What would happen when she found one that wasn't? What would happen if she fell down a hole and got stuck, or got eaten, or... or anything else horrible that might happen in here?

"You know, for a human, you're pretty fast." The voice was so deep it made her bones rattle. Carol tried to get to her feet again so she could run away, but her legs refused to obey. They were shaking so hard that she couldn't even brace herself against the wall, let alone stand. Fear made her throat tight and hot as she looked up and saw the Minotaur standing over her, his bloody ax gripped between both big hands.

"I don't want to die," she whimpered, wishing she could look away, but not daring to.

"No one does," the Minotaur agreed. "But I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to give you directions. And you should be grateful it's been so slow around here, otherwise I might not have bothered chasing you this far."