Chapter Twenty Seven: Will O' the Wisp

Hadrian doesn't argue.

He takes my proffered hand-- and we run.

The tunnels fall away as we pull each other along, the light bounding with our heavy steps. The tiles, slick and wet, cause us to slip and stumble as we race along the bank of the dark sewerage. At first, the stench clogs my mouth and shallow airways, making me retch and cough whilst trying to escape. But after a few minutes, the smell stops bothering me and focusing on each step, and each breath, becomes essential. When there's a rabid zombie man with a piercing after you...well, bad smells, followed closely by trying not to pee in fright, are the least of your problems.

Each time one of us misses a footing on an uneven rock, my hand scrabbles to the wall for support, resulting in several fingers that are streaming with surface cuts and droplets of blood. I pray that whatever is chasing us doesn't have a keen sense of blood, or else I was giving him the best cause for celebration since arriving here.

Hadrian keeps glancing behind us, whilst I try to keep an eye on the ahead; the tunnels, splitting and separating and reforming until even I've gotten lost, are nigh on impossible to keep track of. I pride myself on my calculating ability and watchful eyes, but the rate we turn and change direction is overbearing. The waters darting by become bigger and smaller, all dependent on split-second decisions when we reach a bend.

'Keep going!' Hadrian hisses; I come to an abrupt halt as the tunnel forks into two perpendicular paths, creating a bridge over the water. 'Now is not the time for directions!'

I cast an eye appraisingly at our pursuer, but I'm gratified to note that he's nowhere to be seen. I shake my head, catching my breath. 'No, now is the time for directions. We can't keep running aimlessly. Our lights will run out.'

Hadrian glances shiftily at the torch. 'These run out? That's useless!'

'I know, right? That's what I said...'

Absently, I turn to stare at the water, now a thick moss green that is probably knee-deep. The stench is infiltrating my eyes once more, and I blink away tears. Judging by the water, we've come far in our jog-turned-sprint to reach this point. The negative side is that I have no side to this that's positive.

I place a hand to my head, groaning. How were we going to find our way there now? Nothing had been done methodically!

Hadrian looks perplexed. 'Are you hurt?'

When I shake my head, he continues, 'Why are you groaning?'

'I'm lost,' I say with a frustrated shrug. I'm so used to being on my own, and doing things off my own back, that although a relief, Hadrian's help is more of a hindrance. 'Why are you here? How are you here? And...oh, balls! You saved me back there! Chronus is going to pick his teeth with my cheating bones.'

Hadrian snorts. 'It was self defence. Just so happened you benefitted from it.'

My only reply is a cool glare, but inside I feel that warmth of gratitude. He hadn't left me-- he wants to help me-- he cares. I duck my eyes down so that he doesn't see my confusion, my feelings, all wrapped up with a blush to boot. If Hadrian does care-- if we really fell for one another-- is that what I want? To stay by his side, ruling the Underworld?

In my head I remind myself why I'm here, and it's not for Hadrian, nor for fantasies.

'Stay out of my way,' I growl, and push past the yellow biohazard boy distracting my senses. 'Please don't jeopardise my chance to find my brother.'

'Like I said, I'm not helping. Just here to observe.'

I open my mouth to ask why, but shut it and turn to survey the surroundings. Hadrian's waiting for me to ask, and I don't want to give him that satisfaction. So I contemplate how in Hell we're going to navigate; the fork in the sewer is still staring at me, taunting me with its dilemma.

And then something rises from the green mush before us.

The woman-- if that's what it is-- sits up from where she had been floating along in the water, covered in slime and muck. Her body is a patchwork quilt of scars and blistered flesh, half concealed in murky water. Her hair has fallen out in hunks, leaving odd patches of scalp and rotten, tangled hair. From where I stand, I can see moving, bug-like creatures in those fleshy remains, devouring her exposed scalp and face into a series of maggot and holes--

And I scream.

I can't stand maggots.

I can only see how they bit into my brother after he died.

My stomach lurches, and with little warning I vomit over Hadrian's feet.

That sparks off three reactions. First, my own throat burns of acid. It's a disgusting feeling, one that brings up another wave of nausea and a churning cramp in my stomach that doubles me over.

Second, Hadrian reacts ridiculously slowly to the vomit sprawled across his feet. He blinks at me, bent over and clutching my belly, before glancing at the globlets of sick. Then I hear him turn and retch, fighting against vomiting because I had.

Third-- and most important of all, even though neither of us notice at first-- the Maggoty Swamp Woman hears us spewing our guts up, and stands up out of the water.

It takes a pair of slapping, wet feet on cobbles to make me scream once more. When I look up, lumpy grey breasts, covered in open slashes, dangle before my eyes. My eyes continue upwards to find a slack, expressionless woman with a maggot sliding down her zygomatic bone.

Her hands are bound in between her breasts, and I realise where all the scars have come from.

Each one of her nails is sharp, and pointed-- and I squint at them. They weren't just sharp; they were blades rammed through the beds of her nails in order to make human claws, claws that cut her whenever she breathes or moves or itches her nose. She can't move a hair without slicing half her face off.

That's how she keeps cutting herself.

And, inked into her arms, and hands, the words, "SIN OF TORTURE AND MURDER."

I step away, but those claws come rushing too fast.

She grazes my cheek, and I feel three identical cuts open on my face, small enough to ignore. The green woman is inhumanly quick, and despite being bound at her wrists, she's lethal. Her grabs towards me blind me with silver flashes of light reflecting off my torch, and then cut me as I block with my forearms.

Remembering the dull knife strapped at my waist, I buy time stepping away from the green monster, my eyes never leaving her own. Fumbling for the weapon is taking too long, and the more frustrated I become, the harder it gets to free the blade. But after a tense eternity of dodging, I finally strike back, knife shooting up towards the lady's ribs. Metal meets flesh in a sickening squelch as the blade sinks deep, crunching into bone as my hand pushes the hilt up.

She lets out a guttural scream, sharp teeth hissing in pain, before attacking me in an even greater frenzy. I'm not prepared, and her claws split all the seams of the shoulder of my hazard suit.It's as if the knife between her ribs has only incensed her further to kill me.

I wrench the knife out and plunge it in again, feeling sick inside. The noise of tearing flesh echoes as I stab the woman repeatedly, gritting my teeth to stop my body shaking violently. Eventually, her attacks cease, and she starts to stumble.

She coughs, and a wracking globule of blood plops into her hand. I see how she flinches.

I raise my knife to attack once more, until the woman is overcome by a coughing spout and streams of blood fly everywhere. Her bound hands flail to stem the flow, and in a stroke of misfortune her fingers split straight through the cartilage on her nose.

Distracted sufficiently, I spin and grab Hadrian-- where has he been whilst I was fending off this green thing?-- who is sprawled across the floor, limp.

My heart splutters.

Towering over him is a long, thin figure with a red body suit. But at closer inspection, it's no suit at all. The angry red is all over the man's face and body, and it looks like the under layer of scraped off skin.

My stomach lurches once more. It is scraped off skin: the blistering red, forming areas of mould and scabs, is from the man being skinned.

My hands leap to my utility belt and unhook the pistol. Steadying my shaking hands and emotions, I raise the barrel and hold my breath.

Bang! I pull the trigger and the shot echoes. Skinny Man gets blasted as the bullet fires through his skull, and he falls, shrieking, into the water.

I skid to Hadrian's side. He's lying face down, and I flip him over. His head flops towards me; he's unconscious.

Glancing back towards the green lady, she's still preoccupied with the ten to twenty knife wounds in her body. I have time, but not a lot of time. I shake Hadrian's shoulders. I pinch him. I shout in his ear.

Running out of ideas, I kneel beside him and plant him a sweaty, desperate kiss on his lips. After all, it works in those daft mythological stories.

His lips are freezing. How is he so cold? I gather him into my arms, my lips still pressed on his.

Please wake up. I can't leave you here.

Part of me knows that I could run, right now, and leave Hadrian here. If I ran now, maybe I could reach Chronus. Find Nate. And a part of me thinks that I should. That maybe Hadrian would want that too.

Then I imagine him waking up to this cold, damp, miserable place-- and even worse, if one of those things had gotten him and he was only half the man that came down here...?

But staring down at the man in my arms, I acknowledge the growing feeling that's dragging me down to the depths with him.

'I like you, Hadrian,' I whisper over his lips before a clawed hand slices into my shoulder, and I cry out.

A shudder seems to pass through the sewer's hallways; like a ripple on the surface of the pond, I feel a powerful surge starting from the tips of my feet.

I push Hadrian away, allowing the monster to grab me and not him. Another set of talons plunge into my sides, and my scream is real, raw. I kick my heel into the woman's sides and she drops me. I fall in a heap, but start moving as soon as my alerted senses snap at me to; I pull out my pistol and press the lady back towards the water...

...but Skinny Man is back, climbing out of the water in front of me.

I can't take on two. Can I?

No. Not when Skinny Man begins a lurching run towards me, and I desperately stagger in the opposite direction, trying to lead him away from Hadrian. Green claws and long, white, bony fingers fumble to reach me, but I keep stumbling backwards as fast as my feet can carry me. I keep going even as my foot twists on a mossy stone, and I tumble to the floor, my wrists protesting as they collide with the solid stone on the impact. Everything shakes and trembles as I scurry, my legs flailing to push me back and away from my pursuers, and my hands scrabbling to grip across the floor.

But then my body slams against a wall, and I realise I've hit a dead end-- literally and figuratively.

I suppress a sob, and bite down on my lip to focus. Focus! I scream inside my head. Get out of this!

Green Woman bends towards me. Skinny Man's nails screech along the walls as he approaches with a triumphant swagger.

My hands shake harder, to the point where I feel like the world is moving beneath me.

It takes me a few seconds to realise that it is.

The stone is rumbling from somewhere far away, and a great shaking begins to grip us all.  Green Lady falls, slicing yet more bodyparts and howling in pain. Skinny Man is harder to distract, but he too stops reaching for me and instead scrambles to find purchase against the wall.

Crawling, I make my way across the shaking ground, reaching out for Hadrian. My hand encloses around his, and I hold my breath, praying that he opens his eyes whilst around us, the shaking continues.

And suddenly, the air bursts into light.

Hundreds of tiny glowing embers fight away the unwanted guests, sending them scuttling away, and I'm left clutching Hadrian's limp hand and squeezing it, staring at the sudden change with a mystified expression.  The warm glow leaves Skinny Man and Green Woman running back down the tunnels, leaving a trail of bright orbs in their wake.

As I watch, the orbs arrange themselves into a distinctive line-- tiny orange glows of fireflies, all leading through a tiny secret passage that leads heaven-knows-where except that it leads us away from the two monsters. In fact, the way the fireflies float and light up the way, the more I'm certain that it is a path .

But leading where? I would have to find out. I squint into the darkness; the fireflies go beyond the water, a way that I'm certain wasn't there earlier...

One of the lights bobs nearby, and my eyes narrow. 'That's not a firefly...' I whisper.

There hadn't been a corporeal form: just a flickering flame.

Will O' the wisp, I think; I'd seen a picture of one, once. What did they do again...? It can't be good...

I feel a squeeze on my hand, and I look down to see that Hadrian's blinking upwards at me. His face is covered in grime where his biohazard mask has fallen off. Tenderly, I reach around him to fit it back on, wiping off any of the smear as best as I could.

'What just happened?' he asks. His voice is muffled in the mask.

Where do I begin?