V.I.T.R.I.O.L. Part Six

 V.I.T.R.I.O.L.

Part 6/7

It was the crack of dawn when the sheriff arrived at the crone’s cabin. His slender physique loomed large in the doorway, the morning sun rays framed his menacing silhouette. I squinted and wished for fog, wished for sleep, wished for freedom. 

But this is not a story of wish fulfillment.  

I charged the threshold, grabbing the open door. I slammed it with all my might. The sheriff wailed in pain as I heard his finger bones snap under the weight of it. I pushed harder. 

BOOM.

Just beside my waist, a small hole appeared in the wood. Splinters flew over the dirt floor, followed by a pinpoint beam of sunlight.

BOOM. Another hole, more sunlight. 

BOOM. Another… BOOM. Another…    

As I moved out of harm’s way, I noted a wet stinging on my shoulder. Hot liquid rolled down my arm and onto the floor. I was bleeding. 

Before I could evaluate my wound, the door burst open. The sheriff strode towards me. Gun in hand. I fell to the ground. The sheriff wrapped his hand around my throat. He pressed the barrel of the gun to my forehead. He pulled the trigger.

I closed my eyes tightly. I heard the flapping of wings. I felt the cold steel move away from my skin. I heard the screams of the sheriff. 

My eyes flew open.  The sheriff continued his cries as the crone’s dove pecked at his eyes. His blood spattered over her white feathers. He tried to cover his face, but it did not assuage her assault. 

I rose to my feet. I fetched the golden compass. I sprinted to the doorway, to the wide open meadow. I wanted to run into the sunlight and away from this cabin.  Undeatered, the sheriff stood as well. Blood streaming down his face. I could barely make out whether or not he still had any eyes at all… and like my wounds… there was no time to appraise the situation. 

The dove flew to the staircase, and she beckoned me to follow her. 

And I did.

As I descended the staircase, all light evaporated. I witnessed a darkness I never knew prior. It was abyssal darkness. Only the compass, the dove, and my instinct could guide me now. 

But I was not alone. I heard the stomping of the sheriff’s boots as I ran down the stairs and through the tunnels. The beast followed me through this black maze. With every blind step I took, my breath grew thinner, the air heavier… until I felt every tortured gasp was a lead one.  

I saw a white, luminous glow in the distance. There sat a ghostly doorway wedged between lead walls.  I retrieved the white key from my pocket, but before I could open the door I felt the sheriff’s hand on my wrist. The key remained in the keyhole as the sheriff blindly threw me to the ground yet again. Both of his hands were on my throat now. I heard the flapping of wings again. I felt the sheriff lift his grasp… and then I heard the snapping of the dove’s neck. Her little body fell beside me.  My breathing was heavy. My body was weak. I wanted so badly to succumb to death. To stop my fighting. 

But how long would this continue? How many more innocent lives would meet their demise down here? And so… with my last ounce of fortitude… I pulled the black key from my pocket, and I plunged it into the sheriff’s skull.  But it was not the fatal blow I had hoped for. No, that occurred directly after. As the sheriff stumbled away… his torso met with a dagger like stalactite which fell from the ceiling. 

Thud. Thud. Thud. More mineral weaponry fell. The tunnels were caving in.  I picked up my feathered friend and rushed to the white door. I expected to see the golden room as I flung it open… but all I saw was the lackluster glisten of lead. 

I heard the tunnels collapse behind me. I saw no other doors before me.

I dropped to my knees. I cried bitter tears over the little bird. I cried for the mother and father I never knew. I cried for the young girl who had died here for nothing, all because of the cowardly hearts of men. I cried because at one point a coward’s heart beat in my very breast as well. I was part of their legacy. Not my parents. Not the girl with black hair and onyx eyes. 

How much of my life was lost living in fear? And now it was over, every breath was torture in my chest.  I may as well have been locked in that room on the tippy top floor for my entire wasted life. My tears grew thicker and thicker. The saltiness of them stung my eyes. I didn’t care anymore.  I relished the discomfort because it meant I was still alive. As the tears streamed down my cheeks, they landed on the white feathers of my departed companion. And one by one, each drop turned as red as blood. 

I sobbed harder, every new tear congealed. One with the other. I cried until all my tears united… and formed a red key. Then… I felt the familiar hum of magic vibrate in the lead room… and there it was… a golden keyhole appeared in black walls, along with a door… 

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