The black water could be heard in the distance, rushing through the chamber halls, headed straight for him. And the shadows at the other end of the hall were closing in on him, snuffing out torches along the way. Martuin's imagination was racing with possibilities of what might become of him. "Shut up! Shut up!" he screamed at his thoughts as the black deluge grew louder.
He threw off his helmet and began to unstrap the shoulder plates as he looked around him. Any door along the hall was too far away, and windows were nowhere to be seen. As the armor came off, it hit the floor with different tones; clink, schink, klank, chunk, thud... What was that? The approaching flood was deafening now, but Martuin could have sworn he heard a thud. He looked to the floor, littered with armor parts, and stepped carefully along the stones. Tap, tap... tap, then suddenly thup. And then WOOSH!
The current rushed upon the hallway where Martuin stood, and it rushed on, passing by without a second thought, to meet the shadows ahead. But this was where Martuin had stood before the flood passed by, and before the brick gave way to the weight of his foot. And as the black flood roared overhead, Martuin fell through an open abyss. So long he fell that he forgot about it and nearly went to sleep, suspended in the air.
He dreamt in and out of pumpkins, and animated skeletons and crows. Slowly he drifted further into the dreamworld, and he perceived a great jack-o-lantern before him, ten times his height. Yet as he walked closer to the grinning beast, it grew progressively smaller. From a few yards off, Martuin started in a sprint and then a dash, until he was finally upon the pumpkin. He leaped into the air and braced his feet to crush the orange head. And as he landed, the thing burst into a thousand slimy bits, but it was he who felt the pain as he awoke on cold pavement.
His right arm was shattered and it felt like the air had gone from his lungs ages ago. He turned onto his stomach and pushed himself up off the cold, hard ground. There was a ringing in his head from when he hit the ground. Now the ringing turned into a sort of hissing and clicking noise, like that of twitching antennae and hungry mandibles. As Martuin's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw insects of uncanny proportion skittering toward him from every side.
One came upon him from behind and tickled his neck. At this, Martuin leaped forward and charged an ant-like creature before him. As he drove the beast to the ground, he tore away one of its pointed jaws and began to stab and slash at the encroaching devils. He soon made a slimy clearing for himself and dashed off into the pitch black, which he found turned more tremendously into a forest of trees the further he ran. The branches and leaves cut his face as he stumbled along, still followed by a hoard of ungodly creatures.
There was no sign of light before him, and the rush of insects was gaining upon him, but he could hear a mark of hope further ahead. If he had been alone, it would have been a terrible thing, but the sound of ravenous wolves coming from ahead brought a spur of relief to Martuin's heart. The sound of snarling and panting grew stronger and soon the smell of mange filled the cool breeze the brushed through the trees. Martuin smiled and, with his one good arm, caught hold of a branch overhead as the pack of hungry wolves clashed with the angry insects and blood was spread wide among both companies. As the carnage carried on, non of the warring beasts paid any mind to the treetops quivering as their old prey leaped from branch to branch quietly.
Eventually the slaughter fell behind and a dim orange light could be seen ahead. Martuin made his way to the ground and out of the forest. The orange glow came from a house ablaze, where trucks encircled it and people in overalls stood by with pitchforks and shotguns. As he approached, one of the men with gut hanging out of long-johns saw Martuin and waved him over invitingly. The two exchange greetings and Martuin inquired about the house.
"Oh we're smokin' out the witch. Of course, we don't exactly know what she looks like. You seen her?"
Martuin was startled at the circumstances, but he answered with a negative. At this, the man turned to face him, pointing his rifle at his new friend. Martuin stared at the barrel of the gun and then back at the man, whose head had now transformed into the pumpkin from his dream.
"You ain't the witch, are ya, boy?"
The barrel pressed against his chest as pumpkin goop splattered out of the farmer's jagged mouth with the insane words. Martuin threw his arms up with surprise.
"What? No! That's ridiculous!"
With only seconds to concoct a plan, he went with instinct and kick the man in the groin. Then taking hold of the gun, he turned it on the jack-o-lantern as the man pulled the trigger and again pumpkin extract went everywhere. This caught the attention of the surrounding company, who then turned on Martuin with cries of fury and rage.
With nowhere else to turn, he took off toward the burning house. As he burst through the front door, smoke filled his lungs and flames singed his face. Pieces of the roof caved in and he dove to one side to avoid the avalanche. It was then that he caught sight, through the fire and debris, of the back door.
It can't be – surely, they'll be waiting there for me. But what other choice is there? Might as well go out like ol' Butch and Sundance; no better way I can imagine!
So he darted toward the screen door with the last bit of energy he could muster, snatching up a baffled kitten on his way through the kitchen. Flames whipped around his throbbing legs as he sprinted with a limp across the small room. It seemed as if he would never reach the door when suddenly he made hard contact with it.
The gym door flew open freely with Martuin's weight and he stumbled out into the barren parking lot. Cars sat quietly here and there with pockets of youth talking and joking beside them. The cool night air felt refreshing on his face as he leaned against the brick wall behind him and took in deep breaths slowly. A handful of kids burst through the door moments after him with a loud crash. They laughed aloud and pushed one another in jest.
"Hey Marty, you want to go again?" they asked with excitement.
Martuin shook his head and began to walk toward his car, rubbing his stiff shoulder.
"No thanks, guys. You go ahead. One haunted house a year is my limit."
His friends gave twisted expressions of confusion.
"What, are you scared?"
Martuin just chuckled as he closed the car door and turned the key in the ignition.
"No, it's just my imagination... It gets carried away sometimes. Don't want to overdo it, ya know."