Source: Pixabay
ONE
We'd heard stories about The Devil's Passage since when we were little, conflicting stories really. We'd heard the stories of love to be found there, love that lived to stand the test of time. We'd heard of toxic families that went and as a result their bonds grew tighter. We'd even heard of those that went and never returned. We heard all the stories.
But neither the stories nor the Passage held much significance for Kara and myself, not until circumstances mandated that we had to go visit for ourselves.
You see, The Devil's Passage isn't a tourist site. Neither is it a place you simply go to when you seek solutions to some of life's myriad problems. No, it never worked like that.
As a matter of fact no one knew where The Passage (as it is mostly called) was located. No one, that is, except a select few.
The Passage decides its visitors, and when it needs them. You only ever go there when you are called. And on this particular occasion, Kara and I had received the call.
It had been a cold morning the day the call had come. I remember because Kara and I had been surprised to see the strange man who knocked on our door wearing only a light robe. We had mistaken him to be a stranger seeking warmth, but when he had handed us those sheathed knives, in shock, excitement and fear, we'd known instantly who he was. Or at least what he represented.
"It is time."
The voice of the robed man brought my thoughts back to the present. Once again he was standing with us, but this time we all stood at the mouth of the Passage. Kara and I about to truly answer the call. Robed man handed us two miniature capsules each. They were both identical.
"One for you and one for the passage. Offer the wrong one and there will be no passage. You will know when the time is right."
I understood little of what he said, even as I and Kara accepted the capsules. I doubted she understood too. But neither of us uttered a word.
The robed man stepped away from us, and gestured us forward. We did as we were instructed, as if being controlled by an external force. And as we placed our first foot on the concrete steps that led down to the passage, I saw it. It was written in bold red ink. I didn't need to be a doctor to know that it was human blood. But that wasn't what worried me. It was what was written that did.
THE DEVIL'S ARSE. PASSAGE TO TIME OR PASSAGE OF TIME? YOU DECIDE!
I decided there and then to damn the consequences and turn back. But my legs took me forward. I had no more control.
The mouth of the passage had a strange shape as the darkness closed in on us. The Devil was smiling. And the only question on my mind was..
How do we know which capsule was the right one?
TWO
I dropped the manuscript and looked at Michael. He was staring hopefully at me.
"And..?" he asked.
"And what?" I retorted.
"The conflict.." he said. I could tell he was beginning to lose patience. "I need a resolution to the conflict in order to write the final chapter."
I stared at him still, trying hard not to let my facial expression betray my train of thought.
"Well, I think the Devil's 'Arse' is crude language for a book you know kids might read."
He looked confused as he tried to grasp what I was saying, and how it related to the idea of the resolution he sought. I knew that it didn't, still I continued. My facial expression blank..
"And I know it's fiction, but why do you want to kill us off? Because one way or the other, at least one of us wouldn't be leaving that Passage alive. And I do not know if I am okay with you writing that."
At this point he sighed with complete exasperation..
"Oh Kara, it is fiction. It is only a book. And if you are worried that I intend to kill your character off, then you worry for naught. Because I do not."
"You intend to kill my Michael?" I cut in.
"Would you be fine with that?"
"I think not."
"Then I will not."
"We both live then?"
At this point he'd completely lost all patience. Instead of answering, he just sighed again and shrugged his shoulders. I smiled.
"Oh Mike.." I now let my expressions run with it. "You know what? Allow me finish your manuscript for you."
He simply nodded. I picked up the unfinished manuscript, placed it on the table and looked at Michael. He knew what it meant. I needed solitude. He shrugged again, got up and proceeded to leave. At the door he paused and turned. I looked up at him.
"We have only a couple hours left to turn the first draft in."
I smiled.
"I know Mike. Bye."
As he closed the door to our mini library behind him, my thoughts returned to the Devil. And all I wanted to do was get him up the arse...
THREE
Four capsules, two humans, one Devil. At least if a bowl could be termed a devil. So we stood, all three of us, awaiting the decision of which capsule to place in the bowl, and which one to swallow.
Michael looked at me, I could tell he was scared. And my Mike didn't scare easy. I stretched a hand out for him, but he didn't reach out back. His face had a strange look, one I couldn't immediately place.
"Your Capsules", a strange voice uttered.
I pulled back my hand, and with a sudden decision I dipped my hand into my capsule bag, pulled out one random capsule, and placed it into the bowl. This all happened in a few seconds.
Then I waited, and Michael waited.. But nothing happened.
*Now, Michael.." I said
Then he dipped his hand, just like I dipped mine. And he pulled out a random capsule, same as I did. And he proceeded to place it in the bowl, again just like I did.
But as his capsule was about to hit the bowl, I suddenly realized. Michael was going to die. Not because he placed the wrong capsule in the bowl, or because I placed the right capsule. Not because I was the chosen one and he was not. No, there wasn't any right or wrong capsule. Neither was there a chosen one.
Michael was simply going to die because of fear.
So I lunged at him.. Willing to reach him before the capsule hit the bowl. But as I grasped empty air, I hardly saw it happen...
Michael was reduced to a canvas of dark red smudges on the walls of passage.
I screamed, allowing the fear buried within me to rise to the fore.
Again like an invisible hand, it came. I only saw its smile at the last second. I blacked out...
Then I woke up. Michael was holding me in his arms, smoothing my hair. He smiled at me.
"Bad dream...?"
#SladenSpeaks
#IfWordsWereNudes
#PalNet
Written for @theinkwell's fiction challenge Week 7.
Time out from work to write was difficult to find this week. Especially seeing as life is slowly getting back to normal despite the COVID19 pandemic. Anyways, I hope y'all loved my take on this one. It was a difficult challenge this time.
Cheers!
