Distortia

There was nothing. Just the sticky warmth of the void wrapping around him like a blanket. Seeming to pull him deeper, closer towards whatever was pulling him. There was a strange sense of calm here in the nothingness, like the calm word of a friend or the warm embrace of a lover.

He didn’t know where he was. Who he was. But this fleeting moment left him at ease, drifting in bliss.

Then came the voices.

The smallest blots of blue began to form and dance in his vision, and he began to hear the faintest echoes of someone, or some people, talking. He felt his eyebrows furrow with irritation, they were ruining his quiet.

At first they were indistinguishable, mere rambles that spoke over one another as if in heated argument. Yet as the voices slowly grew louder, he could finally begin to make out some of the words.

“Where is he?” he heard a panicked voice. Baritone, with a hint of kindness that made his heart flutter.

More chaotic mumbles and rambling over one another. Then a baby crying ripped through the veil, startling him.

“Give him to me.”

Flash images of a child writhing and crying within a strange bush of roses carved from iron.

“I will not.”

“You will.”

“I WILL NOT!”

The horrible roar felt as though it was ripped from his own throat. He felt a horrible, searing pain throb in his back, yet he still could not move.

He heard coughing, gasping.

“P-Please.”

“Please what?”

“DON’T!”

With a violent gasp, the boy jolted awake, eyes wide, with his hand rubbing against his chest where the phantom pain slowly faded away. He sputtered for a moment, rising to a sitting position and wiping a sweat bead from his forehead.

The wet cold of the fog hit him first. He immediately hugged himself to try to preserve warmth, yet it was fleeting. He looked around, seeing nothing but a thick fog spreading in all directions. It completely shrouded everything in mystery, leaving him with no clue on where he was.

Besides the worn cobblestone road of course.

The weathered cobblestone underneath him was cold, almost slippery, as the boy slowly climbed to his feet, eyes nervously flickering around him. Where was he?

He tried to remember how he got there, and he quickly realized that there was nothing. No recollection on what happened before, where this was, or even who he himself was.

No memories, no nothing. Just blank.

It shook him to his core. Taking every ounce of his will to control his breathing and calm his racing heart, the boy decided the only option was to go forward. With a hesitant step, he moved forward, trying to keep his mind on moving one step after another.

Slowly, he began to see gnarled tree branches cutting through the fog from either side of the road, waning in and out of existence. They desperately reached out like hands of the damned, trying to snag onto his clothes and drag him into the abyss.

He picked up his pace, eager to escape the cold.

Slowly, the smallest flicker of red pierced through the mist. It wasn’t much, but it was something. So he let his legs carry him, speeding up until he was jogging. His eyes began to widen as the source of the light showed itself, careening him to a halt.

The butterfly resembled a monarch, but instead glowed a scarlet red as it fluttered closer. The smallest embers of magic floated from its wings, drifting in the air behind it until they too disappeared. Almost on instinct, the boy held his hand out, allowing the small creature to come to a perch on his finger.

It rested there for a moment, its wings slightly waving back and forth while its soft legs gently clung to his finger like a branch. He could only admire the little thing, its soft red glow warming his face.

He felt that familiar ache of peace, and some distant part of him said to follow the butterfly. So when the creature silently pulled away and took to the air, that’s what he did.

The boy hastened his pace as the butterfly guided him through the fog like a beacon, its warm red light breaking the cascade along the road. Every now and again it would stray too far, disappearing into the shroud before reappearing again, waiting for him to catch up.

Slowly but surely, he began to notice another light. His heart swelled with excitement. His pace picked up until he was nearly running. Perhaps it was a campfire, or a porch light. Maybe even a home or building of some sort. His heart pounded heavy in his chest as the light grew closer and closer until…

The fog finally gave way to a small clearing. The trees, still lost in the fog, were behind him now as he looked around. The boy had reached a small square, with various run-down brick buildings closing him in. Many were boarded up with rotten wooden planks, some sagging to give the buildings almost depressed gazes as they watched him approach.

The cobblestone street of the square was littered with trash, debris, and infested with weeds, who were clinging to life themselves. A strange, rusted old automaton head lay discarded near one corner, one eye still glowing, fresh sparks shooting from its torn neck cords while its broken eye twitched.

In the center of the square loomed what used to be a beautiful fountain. Now cracked and weathered, with no water in sight, it now lay infested with strange vines snaking around it. The vines were like iron, with thorns strong enough to slice through stone like butter, and menacing looking iron roses gleaming in the light like blades.

The roses seemed to be protecting their finest treasure, threatening to slice anyone careless enough to get too close. For at the very top of the old fountain’s pillar resided 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 lightest breeze would blow it out.

He slowly approached, watching with awe as the metal vines slowly slithered away, allowing him to climb to the top of the fountain to pick up the pretty torch. He handled it with great care as he clasped it into his hands, slowly climbing back down to the street to look at it.

Inspecting the handle, he gently traced his thumb over the engraving in the wood. It reminded the boy a lot of Yggdrassil, the World Tree. However, something about how it seemed more like a family crest, with the dark black color of the engraving, unsettled him.

Reaching under the lantern, the boy found the knob to make the flame stronger. With each turn, the flame grew bigger and brighter, eventually warming his face and skin. The fog also seemed to shrink away further with each turn, allowing him to properly see his surroundings much clearer.

Everything beyond the square was still shrouded in mystery, with the various dark and desolate buildings closing him in. It seemed the only way out was straight ahead, where the town square broke off into another road. A road that was blocked off by a massive metal gate.

The gate loomed over him, and a few tugs at the handles showed it was locked. In the center was a massive black metal lock, adorned with a sick greenish hue that waned in and out of existence. Similarly colored chains snaked from the lock, twisting around the wrought iron gate like an infection. It was just daring him to enter, but it seemed there was no way through.

“Well, what do we have here?” said a voice.

To the boy’s horror, the metal of the lock melted, twisting and contorting until it formed a woman’s face. Her expression was firm, her blind eyes filled with disdain as she peered in his general direction.

“I didn’t think someone as weak as you would have the guts to return after so much time, but I presume I was wrong.” Her scolding voice echoed across the desolate square.

He raised an eyebrow, going to make a snarky comment back only for it to form as a lump in his throat instead. Nothing came out his mouth, besides the shaky warble of a child who’s never spoken before. He shook himself out his stupor, confused and clearing his throat.

She watched him try to speak again and again to no avail, a metal eyebrow raising with twisted amusement. “Aye, it seems you haven’t regained your voice yet. This will make this encounter much harder than it needs to be.”

His grip on the lantern tightened, and he felt himself hiss in annoyance. With a firm gesture, he pointed to the road beyond the gate, his eyes blazing. The Lady in the Lock laughed now, mocking.

“To think I would let you in like that? Oh, mortals are so unforgiving! So entitled! You lost the privilege when you decided to leave the first time. You locked these gates behind you and never looked back.”

Her metal hair seemed to ripple and sway within the lock. “Now you have to face the consequences.” The words made his stomach churn. What did she mean by consequences?

He made a gesture of begging, pleading with her to let him through, which only resulted in more taunting. He pushed the building anger back down into his gut, for he had a feeling that she was a lot more than what she let on.

“You are nothing more than a waste of time. I’m not letting you in, and you can continue on with your small little life regretting your past and dwelling on what you could have done differently. I’m done. I said what I said.” With that, her face melted back into the lock, disappearing.

The boy angrily started to shake the gate, rattling the weathered metal until it groaned. After a few minutes, the Lady in the Lock’s face reformed, now with an annoyed glare.

“What do you want!? I have more important things to attend to than to argue with you!” she snarled.

He pointed to the road behind the gate again.

“No! I already said you are not coming in, so scatter! And get your disgusting mortal hands off my beautiful gate!”

He stomped his foot like a child having a tantrum, pointing at himself then back at the road beyond. She asked, “Are you asking what you did to be denied entry?” He nodded, his eyebrows scrunched together with annoyance.

“Because you are but a naive, weak little creature, that’s why!” she yelled, making him groan with exhaustion over the whole ordeal. She chuckled, throwing some more spiteful comments at him.

“You probably wouldn’t even survive two minutes back in there anyways. You’re still the same scared little boy.”

His eyes bore into her with a conviction that even made her voice stammer for just a moment. He pointed again, leaving her face to twist into a leer.

“You’re really not going to leave me alone, are you?” she murmured. He shook his head, stomping his foot again and pointing past the gate.

She went quiet for a moment, the thoughts in her head yelling over one another as she considered her decision. A stern look framed her face, and with a bitter tongue she conceded.

“Fine.” The words spat off her tongue like poison.

The boy began to jump for joy, only for her harsh tone to immediately snap him back to reality.

“But be wary of this, you feeble creature. The realm has grown dark and twisted, nearly unrecognizable in your absence. I suggest you cling onto that lantern of yours tightly, for it will be easy to lose yourself in the darkness within.”

The chains began to rattle.

“Oh, and beware of the dark things. Every being in Distortia will sense your return, and all will want a piece, yet the scariest of them all won’t ask. He waits until the right time, and then he’ll pounce when you least expect it.”

“If you hear the dragging of chains, run as fast as your little legs can carry you, for that means Terror draws near.”

She mumbles something about being the only one keeping everything manageable under her breath before her face slowly retreated back into the lock. The greenish mirage of the lock and chains brightened before going out, and the metal gate groaned as the lock snapped and the chains fell to the ground.

With an ominous creak, the iron gate slowly drifted open to reveal the dark passageway beyond, lit up only by strange green glowing mushrooms sprouting from the filth. The boy was conflicted. On one hand, he was excited for no reason at all. He couldn’t remember who or what he was, and this seemed like a step in the right direction.

On the other hand, however, something in the pit of his stomach told him that he made a grave mistake. That he was playing right into the monster’s hands. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

Holding the lantern out in front of him, the boy cautiously stepped through the gateway and into the unknown, unaware that he just walked right into the jaws of the beast.