[felcin]: 577.Left Or Right?

Left Or Right??

A heavy thunder breaks the deep lethargy with in your head, causing you to stand suddenly, like a person who is forced awake. You look around, uncertain of what woke you up. Finding no apparent source of your discomfort, you shrug and curl up, back to sleep.
This happens every night for the 2 weeks. You give up trying to sleep and when it next happens you don’t go back to sleep. You get up and strangely find yourself already clothed. You put it down to a heavy night the night before. You step out of your bedroom and instead of finding yourself in the landing of your familiar old house, you are staring at a great iron gate wrought with etchings of the kind that you don’t recognise. One inscription is written, however in a language that you can read.
The one how can read this
Your time has come
Throw up your hood
And enter your home

You think you are going mad and re-read this several times… then you realise, ‘I can read this’ and suddenly you understand all of the inscriptions inlaid into the iron. You shrug and out of curiosity, if nothing, you else push the iron gates open and enter the cold dark pit.

You wander through the cold dark corridor you find yourself in, looking at the paintings hanging upon the walls. The corridor you are travelling along suddenly forks, indecision grabs you and you chose the left corridor, as it looks warmer. You bear to the left and enter a small chamber. A lone figure is standing opposite you at the other end of the chamber. You look up and find the ceiling reaches on forever.
The lone figure starts and moves towards you. It speaks in a raspy voice, which sends shivers running up and down your spine. How did you come to be here? It asks. I chose the left fork you answer.I meant how could you open the iron gates, you are but a midget. It tells you. I AM NOT A MIDGET you scream, why does everyone think that? I opened the door because I could read the inscriptions. You tell the strange figure once you have calmed down. Ah, I see, an angry midget who is our saviour, how very interesting. It laughs a laugh devoid of feeling and walks off back to where it was. You follow it. What are you anyway? And what do you mean saviour? You question. It laughs again; you should have taken the right tunnel. It tells you and then disappears.
Alone in the cold dark room, you wish that you were never taught to read when suddenly a stab of pure cold pain runs through your heart. You look up and find yourself staring into the face of it. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to stare? It asks in a mocking, no longer rasping, voice. Come follow me. It directs you and sweeps off through the wall. You stare dumb founded. What now? It asks. I can’t walk through walls you tell it. Yes you can it insists. How would you know? You start up an argument, maybe it can buy time to get back to the fork because I am I and you can’t know that you can’t walk through walls because you have never tried and you won’t get back to the fork in the corridor, because you will become lost as soon as you walk more than one metre away from me ok? No come and stop wasting time it ordered. You nod mutely and do as you are told. It leads you through the wall into another chamber with other figures like the one you are following. There is a chair in the middle of the chamber; you are directed to sit down. You do so mutely. The one you were following gets lost in amongst all the others; they all look exactly the same, you note. They form a circle around the chair and begin a chant. Before you can think to do anything, your mind is emptied and you cannot move.

Ah, you found him then says a small voice that you recognise. You struggle to open your eyes. He’s awakening sir. The raspy voice had returned. You feel a hand take hold of your chin and lift it up gently. Indeed he is. Leave us if you would, but place two behind the door, just in case. The voice added as an after thought. You finally manage to win the battle to open your eyes. And when you do find yourself staring into the eyes that belong to that familiar voice. Didn’t your parents teach you that it’s rude to stare? He asks. Apparently not. You answer. He laughs and lets go of your chin. Instead of starting the conversation with the over-used term ‘where am I?’ you choose instead: WHAT HAPPENED TO MY LEGS?! You scream. The man who you now realise is actually a lot older than you remember him to be laughs again, don’t worry; you will get them back soon. He tells you, although that does not add any comfort to your immediate thoughts.
You also realise you are in a different room than you were when the chanting began, also a different chair; this one was a lot more comfy.
What am I doing here? You ask. You are here to save the lost souls that brought you here. He tells you. But surely they are not lost if they know how to get to here? You argue with him. Come son, do not make this complicated, you know what I mean. He tells you. Never call me son again; I am no longer your son. You tell your father, after what you did, you will never be my father. The old man shrugs and says I can always hope though. And with that last remark he leaves you in a cold room, alone, for the second time in your life.

He returns two hours later, bearing food and mead. You take from him what he offers and eats it quickly as you are very hungry. If I give you back your legs, you have to promise not to run. He bargains with you. Me? Run? How can I? I will just get lost straight away. You tell your father. True, but I don’t want to have to try and find you in this maze, that could take a very long time, and that is not something which I possess at this moment. He says. Ok, I promise. You tell him. You feel a tingling around your hips and the feeling progresses down your now appearing legs. Thank you, greatly appreciated there. You say sarcastically. Well I like to help when I can. He tells you and smiles strangely at his son.
Why have you brought me down here? You ask, getting straight to the point. He sighs and takes your glass like thing to fill with more mead. He hands it back to you, you take a small sip. I need you to open up the passageway, only you can do it. And I need to you to keep it open. He sighs. What passageway? You question him. The one at the end of the corridor that you didn’t walk down; the right fork. He tells you. Ok so what? I need to open up some door and put a doorstop there? Basically yes, except you are the only thing that keeps it open. You expect me to stay down here, to hold some bloody door open for the likes of you? Why? You ask heatedly. The old man sighs again, The people who escorted you here, they need to get out, they are dead but they can’t leave here because the last door bearer died, the door has been closed for over two centuries, and people keep dying, I have to release some of them, the underground is getting to full. Please help me? He pleads. You listen to all your father has to say, you then ask: why do you have to release them? Because I was the one chosen, which is why I left your mother, I am sorry, I still love her and you, and now I need your help. You won’t have to stay down forever. You will only have to come down here once a year for a week. He tells you over and over. I don’t have a choice do I? No he answers.
He is now leading you down another dark corridor, which terminates in a door. He opens the door and you are looking at the fork, which you had passed before. Your father points towards the right tunnel and leads you down there. This corridor also terminates in a door, but this door is beautifully carved and it is made of iron, with an inscription on it.
Your help has been received
And we love you for it
Hold the door on the annual
And we’ll see you in a year

Your father hands you an inlaid key and explains. You need to stay here for a week, you need to check every person who goes past you, they all hold a card, you will understand when you see it. Every year you will have the sort of ‘dream’ that you had, to bring you here this time. You nod slowly: ok.
I have work to do, your father claims, I will come see you in a couple of days to make sure all is well.
You nod again. And for a third time in your life, your father turns his back upon you and leaves you in a cold ark place. Alone.