My Condo is a Turtle Tunnel — Part 4

Series — A confrontation leads our protagonist into the lair of the beast, while learning more about the Midwestern Monster Hunter's origins

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Earlier…
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The woman gave me a blank stare, so I repeated the question: "Who are you?"

She blinked and shook her head, like I'd just jolted her awake. "Sorry--like I said, it's been a while since anyone has asked me that. Almost forgot." She chuckled. "I'm Mel. But I'm guessing you're more interested in what I do, and how I got here?"

By here, she meant the macabre forest, sopping wet with unknown ichor, and glowing a sickly shade of dark-room red beneath a sunless sky.

"Well, yeah," I admitted.

"Short answer is: I'm a scientist in a bit of a niche field. In layman's terms: we observe and control the migration of unnatural creatures through the earthly plane. Wait, no--" She stopped herself and tapped her foot, thinking." Unnatural is the wrong word. They are natural, just not native to our world."

My head hurt. "That doesn't sound layman. Could you try explaining it like you would to a kindergartener?"

She smiled. "In the beginning, there was a forest. This forest." She held up her arms, gesturing toward the world around us. "Then our universe was born. It divided the forest in half in a way that is very difficult for a third dimensional being to understand."

"Five year old," I reminded her.

"Right, like a highway paved right through the middle of a jungle. Critters from one side will naturally try to wander to the other side. Sometimes it's unpredictable, and that could cause problems for humans--or I guess, the drivers, in this analogy," She explained. "My team made sure they crossed the road in predictable places--"

"By making turtle tunnels," I finished for her.

"Yes, that's exactly right. Give yourself more credit--you understand me just fine."

"That's how Van explained it to me."

"Van Beckon? Friendly Midwesterner?"

"That's him."

"No shit? Van's a bright kid. Probably my best intern."

"Intern?"

"Yeah. He works with me part time while he's working on his undergrad degree. Who is he to you?"

"Pretty much a discount ghost-buster. I hired him from the classifieds to get some mystery monster out of my apartment. I don't know how to break this to you... but Van's not a kid."

"How old is he, do you think?" Mel asked.

"Late thirties, probably. Maybe early forties?"

Her eyes widened. "I've been in here longer than I thought. He was 19 when I got stuck."

"But you don't look..."

"Like I'm all that old?"

"Well, yeah."

"Time doesn't work on your body here, the way it does back home. I don't need to eat, or drink. I can shut my eyes, but I never fall asleep. I breathe out of instinct, but we don't need to."

The sky overhead flickered with ethereal lightning. "That's our cue. We don't want to be here when it gets back."

Mel grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the tree line, parting curtains of writhing moss and pulling my feet free of the underbrush that seemed to tug at my ankles if I loitered too long. After about fifteen minutes of walking, we came to a clearing that seemed to be slightly elevated above the perpetual mire that seemed to fill the wood.

Encircling this little island were about a dozen chest-high stones, protruding like rotten teeth from infected gums. The surfaces of the crooked pillars bore innumerable glyphs similar to the ones I'd seen in my hidden closet.

At the center of this clearing stood an enormous hollow tree, concealing a carved earth staircase between its roots. We descended into a subterranean room I can only describe as a witch's hut.

The place seemed to be lit by jars, crammed with writhing, glowing insects that seemed to flash brighter each time they plinked against the glass. A vat of luminescent liquid bubbled over a ghostly green flame, flickering off in the far reaches of the room. I had to stoop to avoid brushing my head on a multitude of unknowable ingredients, hanging on hooks from the ceiling.

"Please excuse the mess; but do make yourself at home."

"We're safe here?"

"Safe is relative here, but yeah." She placed the knife on a stone workbench, and began looking through a set of crudely made tools.

"Did you build this place?" I asked.

"No, I inherited it from the ånd."

"The who?"

"They lived in the forest before there ever was an earth. I'm 80 percent sure a few of them got trapped in our realm...and became early humans. The rest, I imagine, have been thriving on the other side of the turtle tunnels, safely separated from their natural predators."

She plucked a hammer and chisel, and began beating on the edge of the blade, breaking off slivers of the shimmering, aethereal metal and pulverizing them into a violet powder.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting us out of here." She swept the powder into the palm of her hand, then sprinkled it into the simmering vat. It bubbled ferociously, turning a shade of sparkling purple. She retreated into the shadows, and returned with a book that appeared to be bound with crimson bark, and sinew.

"The ånd were incredibly gifted with magic. They used RingWays -- portals, basically -- to travel between different parts of the forest," she explained. There's one here -- only one."

"Where does it go?" I asked.

"Excellent question." She flipped through the book, giving me glimpses of incomprehensible scrawlings and sigils. "Based on my understanding... a small village. Everything left behind here, indicates they live in dispersed, tribal societies."

"I'm guessing the reason you haven't gone through them has something to do with the knife I came here with?" I gestured to the shattered blade, sitting on the workbench.

"Good guess. I'm assuming you got it from Van?"

I nodded.

"We use it in a lot of equipment. Very rare. Very hard to procure. Can't find any of it on this side of the forest, believe me. The simple explanation is: the RingWay wasn't designed for us--humans. But I've come up with a way to fudge it; trick the magic into working for us. We just need to let it simmer for a while." She waved a hand at the concoction.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow, not quite liking the sound of the idea, but kept my concerns to myself. The brewing process took a little less than an hour. During that time, I shared a little about my situation in the condo. But mostly I just let Mel talk.

I understood little, but didn't have the heart to interrupt. After two decades of maddening solitude, I'm sure she was just thrilled to have the company. She spent a long time describing her magnum opus -- a device she liked to call "the Hole Puncher," -- and how a mis calibration led to the accident that sent her to the Dark Forest.

"Probably how we punched a hole through your condo, too, come to think of it," she theorized. When the liquid turned a shade of periwinkle, Mel poured about a shot's worth into two makeshift glasses. "Drink this--every drop. We only get to do this once."

I held my nose and winced in anticipation of an awful taste that never came. The elixir went down like butter cream and honey, that left an inexplicable tang on my tongue. I briefly considered asking for more, but stopped myself when a searing headache burned behind my eyes.

I squeezed them shut, and saw a world on fire. The dark corners of the hovel were now lit clear as day. Strange auroras swirled around certain objects on the bookshelf and workbench. Mel, too, appeared wreathed in lights of a color I didn't recognize.

"My eyes..." I managed.

"It will wear off. But we need to be on the other side before then. Come on."

She dragged me out of the hollowed tree and onto the island. The encircling pillars now glowed like jewels, giving off wavering auroras that licked at encroaching foliage. While the environment certainly looked brighter, I couldn't see better. It was like the forest was blanketed by mist.

My shoes slapped against the wet ground as our pace quickened into a light jog. The sound echoed in my ears, and was soon joined with a kind of low, heavy breathing that made me shudder. Something followed us between the trees.

Our pace quickened.

"Can you hear it too?"

Mel grimaced, and nodded. "Don't turn around."

The breathing grew into a growl I recognized from all those nights spent cowering behind my bedroom door. My instincts got the better of me; I turned, and felt a scream catch in my throat.

I'd been wrong about the fur.

The brute peering at us from between the twisted trees, was covered in quills like an overgrown porcupine. Each looked to be the size of a stiletto dagger, and just as sharp; with fewer and smaller spines hanging from guerilla-like arms. My mind reeled as it took stock of the creature, fixating on a horrifying idea.

It hadn't seemed interested in eating me before. But now?

A greasy black tongue snaked out from between long jaws and jagged teeth, tasting the air and jerking its head in little nods of approval.

"Mel..." By the time I turned, she had already taken off running. For the first time since college, I broke into a sprint. The beast behind me let out a throaty clicking sound, swelling into a screech. Its lumbering footfalls seemed to shake the ground beneath my feet. I had no clue how fast this thing could move, but quickly realized it may not matter.

Each passing breath seared my lungs, and my aching legs felt every pound I'd put on since entering the workforce. My lack of fitness may kill me before the creature did.

Mel was still only a dozen or so feet ahead of me, deftly jumping over the reaching tendrils of undergrowth. The lake was in sight, still a solid inky black against the crimson world.

"Swim to the bottom!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Before I could question her, she leapt with arms outstretched, and dove into the mysterious liquid. I skidded to a stop just beyond the edge, looking frantically between the bubbling goo, and the treeline.

The beast slowed to a stop at the tree line, tasting the air again. It knew it had me cornered. I looked back to the lake. Mel still hadn't resurfaced.

My pursuer lowered itself onto its haunches, preparing to pounce. In an act of desperation, I followed Mel's lead; flinging my body into the unknown fluid.

Whatever the liquid was, it was almost repulsively warm. It was also somehow far less dense than water; allowing me to sink almost effortlessly toward the bottom.

I reoriented my body, trying to swim down to hasten my descent as Mel suggested. While I couldn't see her through the shifting, murky gloom, I did see movement. Unknown objects and vague shapes shifted and skittered like eels in the dark. Something brushed my leg, lingering at my ankle. The scaly, slimy thing looped around me, grabbing on.

Panic set in.

I instinctively took a breath, filling my aching lungs with the black fluid. I choked and gasped for air, only taking in more of the vile substance. My throat and sinuses burned as my body screamed for oxygen.

The tendril tugged my body back toward the surface. Toward air, maybe. But also certain death at the hands of the creature. Mel had assured me the only chance at escape was at the bottom...

I kicked and tugged, freeing my leg to swim down, down toward the shimmering depths. Shimmering?

I squinted my aching eyes against the gloom. Was that light ahead? I fluttered my feat as hard and fast as they could go, flailing my arms like a madman as my muscles spasmed in excruciating hypoxia.

I reached out, and my hand broke the surface. My stomach turned inside out, as my sense of gravity reoriented. I'd swam to the bottom, and reached the top?

A pair of strong arms reached around me, wrenched me from the deep and into a blinding, brilliant light.

Next Episode

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Telling a friend about me is pretty cool too. Getting your words in front of eyeballs is honestly harder than doing the actual writing and editing…