Distortia

Nothing was all the boy could think about as he stared down at the blank white sheet of paper. He’s been trapped like this for months now, stuck in the same position with a pen in hand, his motivation weak and his mind blank. It was almost like a fog had rested in his head, weighing down his shoulders and shackling him to the same fate.

The boy sighed, turning off the lamp in defeat before smuggling into bed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that a part of him was locked away, hidden from his mind’s eye. It was driving him mad. Retreating below the covers, he felt his eyelids grow heavy and he let himself get dragged into a deep sleep. However, instead of darkness, he was met by something else.

He opened his eyes to find himself standing in the middle of what looked like a worn cobblestone road. The boy shivered and quickly hugged his chest from the cold, the mist clinging to his skin like a blanket. The thick fog enveloped his surroundings, making it extremely difficult to see. Vague shadows of trees faintly waned in and out of view on either side of the road, their branches desperately reaching out seemingly to grab and pull him into the abyss. Eager to find somewhere warm and escape the cold, the boy carefully walked forwards into the fog’s mysterious embrace.

Unable to see more than two feet in front of him, the boy blindly trekked on, his eyes focusing on the cobblestone underneath him. His legs began to tremble and his breaths came out in puffs of smoke. Whatever kind of dream this was, it was an unpleasant one.

Just then, the boy saw a flicker of red light pierce through the mist in the distance. It wasn’t much, but it was something so he picked up his pace. As he grew closer, he watched in awe as a butterfly fluttered into view. It resembled a monarch butterfly, except its wings glowed a bright red. Its glow cast a soft light through the fog as it fluttered towards him, coming to a rest on the boy’s finger when he stretched out his hand.

The butterfly rested for a moment, its wings slightly swaying back and forth. Its legs softly clung to his finger, and the boy was overcome by a sense of awe and peace. Something told him to follow the butterfly, and when it took off again, that’s what he did.

The boy hastened his pace as the butterfly guided him through the fog, fluttering in and out of the shroud before appearing again. He ignored the damp cold and the way his body screamed for rest. Slowly but surely, another faint light began to break through the cascade. Maybe it was a campfire, or a porch light. The boy’s heart swelled with excitement as the light grew closer and closer until...

The fog finally gave way to a small clearing. The trees, still lost within the fog, were behind him now as he looked around. The boy had reached a small square, with various run-down old brick buildings closing him in. The windows were all boarded up with now rotted wooden planks. The cobblestone street was littered with trash and debris and infested with weeds, who were clinging to life themselves.

In the center of the square was a cracked and weathered stone pillar surrounded by peculiar rose bushes. The bushes seemed to be made of iron, while the rose flowers themselves looked as sharp as blades. The plants almost seemed to guard the pillar, their bramble-like branches snaking up the stone like vines, keeping thieves away from its treasure. There, sitting at the top of the stone pillar, was a lantern.

The wooden lantern was utterly beautiful. Painted a deep mahogany with delicate engravings of vines and butterflies snaking along the edges, it was a marvel to behold. The candle inside was dimly lit, so small that even the slightest breeze could blow it out, so the boy handled the lantern with great care as he picked it up.

Inspecting the handle, he gently traced his thumb over the engraving in the wood. Two rose vine engravings slithered up the handle before intertwining in the middle, circling around what looked like a family crest. It resembled a beautiful tree, its branches spreading to the very corners of the crest. However, something about the pitch black color of the tree engraving unsettled him. Reaching under the lantern, the boy found the knob to make the flame stronger. With each turn, the light grew bigger and brighter, eventually warming the boy’s face and skin. The fog also seemed to shrink away with each turn of the knob, allowing him to see his surroundings much clearer. The fog shrouded everything beyond the clearing in mystery, with the various dark and desolate buildings closing him in. The only way out was straight ahead, where the town square broke off into another road. A road which was blocked off by a large metal gate.

The gate loomed over the boy, and a few tugs at the handles showed it was locked. In the center of the gate was a massive black metal lock, with a sick greenish hue that waned in and out of existence. Similarly colored chains protruded from the lock, snaking around the rusted iron gate like an infection. It was just daring him to enter, yet it seemed there was no way through.“Well what do we have here?” said a voice. To the boy’s horror, the lock twisted and morphed into a woman’s face.

Her expression, although firm, was filled with disdain as her blind eyes looked in his vague direction. “I didn’t think you would have ever come back to this place.” her voice echoed through the desolate square. Although frightened, the boy gathered himself. He tightened his grip on the lantern and took a deep breath before greeting the woman. The lady in the lock’s eyebrows raised in a mix of shock and twisted amusement. “You’ve really decided to return?” she asked him. The boy, a little confused, nodded his head. The lady in the lock let out a scoff. “Is this some kind of joke? You abandoned this realm for years, leaving it behind to wither and struggle, and you think you can just come barging back in?” she sneered before continuing, “You mortals have a lot of nerve.” The boy furrowed his brow in irritation from her taunting, but he said nothing. Something told him that she was a lot more than what she let on. So he ignored her mocking and insisted she let him through.

The lady in the lock refused, and they started to argue. The lady in the lock bashed him with otherwise petty and hateful comments, but much to her chagrin the boy stood his ground. She could tell that any effort to push him away would ultimately be a waste of energy. “Fine, I’ll let you through, but heed this warning. The realm has grown dark and unfamiliar in your absence. It will be very easy for you to get lost in the darkness within.” The lady in the lock sighed and shook her head in irritation. The gloomy storm clouds overhead gave way to a starry night sky, which was illuminated by the aurora borealis. The lights flowed and danced like ribbons, bursting in colors the boy has never seen before. Something about it was so familiar, yet so far away at the same time.

“One last thing I must tell you,” the lady warned, “If you hear the dragging of chains, run and don’t look back, for that means Terror draws near.” She mumbles something about wishing the boy would get stranded under her breath before melting back into the lock. The greenish mirage on the lock and chains brightened for a moment before disappearing, and the metal groaned as the gate unlocked and the chains fell to the ground. With an ominous creak, the iron doors slowly drifted open to reveal the dark passageway beyond, lit up only by strange glowing green mushrooms sprouting from the filth.

The boy was conflicted. On one hand, he was excited. This meant the start of a journey of self discovery. He will be able to finally find and put together the puzzle pieces he’s been robbed of for so long. However, something in the pit of his stomach told him he made a grave mistake. Maybe there was a reason why he couldn’t remember this place. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Holding the lantern in front of him, the boy cautiously stepped through the gateway and into the unknown, unaware that he just walked into the jaws of the beast.