A Nightmare Reborn
Chapter 6 Part 1
It would be unwise to say we were truly getting somewhere. The mine really did seem as if it's endless. Father G, however, seemed jovial, as he often has been since meeting him. His small talk and banter kept coming, as if the dangers that existed here meant nothing to him. Earlier, he had identified his name as Gustaf, which meant that the name I had given him initially had been right. How strange it is to be familiar with one as unfamiliar as him. What great amounts of time I had been in this nightmare world without Gustaf were graciously behind me, and I couldn't be happier.
As uplifting as his presence was, father Gustaf made sure to remind me constantly of the matter at hand. He emphasized that finding and killing Althia was not to be taken lightly. He mentioned that her miasma would constantly strike at our senses. I asked him, curiously,
“How will we find her?”
He knew what I meant. He knew I wasn't merely speaking of navigating the twisting mine, but instead of the complicated task of finding the invisible nemesis that had become Althia. Father Gustaf laughed, and answered,
“She's not invisible to us!”
I believe I know what he means. Althia can be seen by us because she has willingly bared her naked flesh. We have seen her crevices and orfices, which will help us to identify her location. She mocks us, allowing us to pass through her world freely. We are not the fools she takes us for. It's mind numbing to think that she may be a god. Why would a god ever be so obstinate, overlooking anything in her realm? Perhaps even gods are imperfect in the end. We are idiotic to believe in them. Men and women do not profit off these gods, instead reaping the rewards of infamy from following their painful edicts. Have I ever casted such faith in them? At one point, like a sheep, I had, that is, I did until my mother died. If that succubus before had really been her then I have no reason to believe that the great beasts that pull mankind's strings are in our best interest. My mother and I have suffered enough. Leave us to our sorrow and spite, coated with venomous contrite.
The mine continued down one open corridor, it being wide enough to usher in several dangers. Father Gustaf smiled, his white teeth flashing brightly against the blue light of the lanterns that surrounded us. He said, under his breath,
“No time, no time…”
He's right. Each moment that is spent locating Alice is one that could test everyone's patience. Althia might kill her should she find out our plan. As I said before, it's impossible to think that Althia doesn't know of our deceit. That being said, we need to be prepared. Who knows what she may have planned for us. I shiver thinking of the true magnitude of our mission. What forsaken souls we are.
Surprisingly, Gustaf also possessed a flask. As I also drew mine, he laughed, and asked,
“Would you prefer mine?”
My hooch had by far became stale. Amazingly, his tasted deliciously bitter, it having a zing to it that caused my body to tingle. The sensation that it gave my tongue was welcomed, a tarty fruit flavor that was barely recognizable. As I drew more from his flask, I realized that it was a whisky that must have been imported, as it was more potent than the usual stock that can be bought here in New York. As I handed him back his black and silver flask, he asked,
“How have you survived here?”
I knew exactly what he meant. I opened my pack, and handed him some dried meat bits. He anxiously grabbed a few, and gratefully ate them, chewing them almost loudly. As I handed him more, I asked him, concern rolling down my face,
“Have you not ate?”
He became dire, and answered,
“Nothing worth mentioning.”
Ah, I knew what he meant once more. This man had been consuming the beasts. I could recognize their stench on him and his flask. Rotted flesh and sour blood. As putrid as that may sound, during my previous fits of madness, I considered their meat several times, finding my hunger to consume it completely unnatural, yet inevitable. It's amazing how savage one can become in the wake of primal nature. The smell has been unmistakable since entering this labyrinth. This man is a survivor, and even more a warrior. I reckon should I have not befriended him he would have been a terrible foe. Let this day (night?) be one that I'll remember throughout my years, the one where I had met my brother-in-arms, Father Gustaf. May I never forget it.
Chapter 6 Part 1
It would be unwise to say we were truly getting somewhere. The mine really did seem as if it's endless. Father G, however, seemed jovial, as he often has been since meeting him. His small talk and banter kept coming, as if the dangers that existed here meant nothing to him. Earlier, he had identified his name as Gustaf, which meant that the name I had given him initially had been right. How strange it is to be familiar with one as unfamiliar as him. What great amounts of time I had been in this nightmare world without Gustaf were graciously behind me, and I couldn't be happier.
As uplifting as his presence was, father Gustaf made sure to remind me constantly of the matter at hand. He emphasized that finding and killing Althia was not to be taken lightly. He mentioned that her miasma would constantly strike at our senses. I asked him, curiously,
“How will we find her?”
He knew what I meant. He knew I wasn't merely speaking of navigating the twisting mine, but instead of the complicated task of finding the invisible nemesis that had become Althia. Father Gustaf laughed, and answered,
“She's not invisible to us!”
I believe I know what he means. Althia can be seen by us because she has willingly bared her naked flesh. We have seen her crevices and orfices, which will help us to identify her location. She mocks us, allowing us to pass through her world freely. We are not the fools she takes us for. It's mind numbing to think that she may be a god. Why would a god ever be so obstinate, overlooking anything in her realm? Perhaps even gods are imperfect in the end. We are idiotic to believe in them. Men and women do not profit off these gods, instead reaping the rewards of infamy from following their painful edicts. Have I ever casted such faith in them? At one point, like a sheep, I had, that is, I did until my mother died. If that succubus before had really been her then I have no reason to believe that the great beasts that pull mankind's strings are in our best interest. My mother and I have suffered enough. Leave us to our sorrow and spite, coated with venomous contrite.
The mine continued down one open corridor, it being wide enough to usher in several dangers. Father Gustaf smiled, his white teeth flashing brightly against the blue light of the lanterns that surrounded us. He said, under his breath,
“No time, no time…”
He's right. Each moment that is spent locating Alice is one that could test everyone's patience. Althia might kill her should she find out our plan. As I said before, it's impossible to think that Althia doesn't know of our deceit. That being said, we need to be prepared. Who knows what she may have planned for us. I shiver thinking of the true magnitude of our mission. What forsaken souls we are.
Surprisingly, Gustaf also possessed a flask. As I also drew mine, he laughed, and asked,
“Would you prefer mine?”
My hooch had by far became stale. Amazingly, his tasted deliciously bitter, it having a zing to it that caused my body to tingle. The sensation that it gave my tongue was welcomed, a tarty fruit flavor that was barely recognizable. As I drew more from his flask, I realized that it was a whisky that must have been imported, as it was more potent than the usual stock that can be bought here in New York. As I handed him back his black and silver flask, he asked,
“How have you survived here?”
I knew exactly what he meant. I opened my pack, and handed him some dried meat bits. He anxiously grabbed a few, and gratefully ate them, chewing them almost loudly. As I handed him more, I asked him, concern rolling down my face,
“Have you not ate?”
He became dire, and answered,
“Nothing worth mentioning.”
Ah, I knew what he meant once more. This man had been consuming the beasts. I could recognize their stench on him and his flask. Rotted flesh and sour blood. As putrid as that may sound, during my previous fits of madness, I considered their meat several times, finding my hunger to consume it completely unnatural, yet inevitable. It's amazing how savage one can become in the wake of primal nature. The smell has been unmistakable since entering this labyrinth. This man is a survivor, and even more a warrior. I reckon should I have not befriended him he would have been a terrible foe. Let this day (night?) be one that I'll remember throughout my years, the one where I had met my brother-in-arms, Father Gustaf. May I never forget it.
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