Circles. He was going around in circles. But how? He'd gone down stairs, up others, through halls and twists and turned. How was he back here? His head hurt, throbbed. It was hard to think. So hard to think.
He pushed the shoe away, revolted, and skidded back along the wall. There was no way out. None. This...this wasn't the right door. Not the right number. But he had three chances. Three! How did he know when this was over? When...when could he get out.
"Don't touch that!"
Aidan jumped, swinging his head wildly. He saw nothing, of course. There was nothing to see, and even if there was this strange dampening of his senses disallowed him that privilege. He waited, shivering and curled in on himself, against the wall.
The voice did not speak again.
Don't touch what?
Aidan waited in silence, counting the secondsminutes in his head. Two minutes past, then five, and the voice still did not come back. Whatever he wasn't supposed to touch he had, apparently, let go of.
He couldn't stay here.
Aidan rose, leaning back against the wall and willing his shivers to go away (but it was too cold, much too cold, and he was so empty inside. No food, no water, no light...nothing, for days. So empty, so cold, getting sick). What now? He'd traveled the full length of this wall. He'd done...what he had to do. Perhaps...perhaps he just needed a different route. One by one, ever so slowly, he could try each wall until he reached the end. It wasn't so hard, was it? Just walking.
Aidan stared across the vast, depthless blackness, curling and uncurling his hands at his sides.
The hall couldn't be that wide. It was too long for it to be wide. He just had to get across.
He took a step forward, placing his barefoot carefully on the ground. Again, another step. And another. Just the bare tips of his fingers were touching the wall now. One more step. The wall was out of reach. He stood, wrapping his arms around his body, very still, and very silent.
He couldn't do it. Not like this. It was too open. Too foreign. Too empty.
But he couldn't go back. He had to find his way out.
Slowly he lowered himself to the floor, palms and knees pressing into the concrete. He pressed most of his weight on his left side, so his knee didn't sting as much, and began to carefully crawl across the floor, inch by shuffling inch. And in his head he counted.
Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Still no wall. A minute, nothing but the bare, empty air around him, the cracked floor beneath.
Two minutes. His breath caught in his throat and he pressed himself lower, chest and stomach sliding along the floor.
Three. Oh god, oh god, he couldn't do this. It was too far. Too long and too far. What if he'd gotten turned around. How would he know? How could he tell?
Four. Nothingness. Vast, endless, nothingness, all around him.
Five. The first brush of something against his fingers. Hard, solid, unmoving. Aidan let out a cry and scrambled toward it.
A wall. Thank-god, thank-god, thankgodthankgodthankgod. He pressed his palms flat to it and smashed his cheek against it. Beautiful, beautiful wall. He sat there, panting and clutching at it for a good portion of a minute before rising shakily to his feet. His knees knocked against each other as he stood, teeth chattering wildly. But it was all right. Everything was okay. He'd found another wall.
He inched along it.
It was slow, but it was movement. And he was going somewhere. He needed a bend, a corner, a turn. Anything. Something.
He saw one.
He didn't notice it at first, such a small, sliver of whiteness against the still-depthless black. Cast it off as a trick of his eyes, it was common, after all, seeing things within pitch blackness. Nothing unusual about that...little...imaginary light. And it was so small, barely the width of a thread. So small, in fact, that he could not tell where it was coming from.
Aidan paused, squinting his eyes across the darkness at it.
Suddenly it grew, not by much, but...enough. Enough to make it real.
Aidan's heart leapt.
Light. Light! Like the anti-shadow cast by the opening of a door. He'd found a door! Aidan crowed again and hurried his pace, shuffling quickly, almost desperately, across the hard concrete.
Follow the light. Follow the light. Like going into heaven. Follow the light.
The light shrank again.
Aidan's eyes widened, his pulse accelerated. No. No...don't go. But it didn't. It stayed. Just a fingernail sliver, but it stayed.
Aidan hurried toward it, no longer shuffling but running, as well as he could. His legs fell awkwardly in a tumble, and he nearly tripped several times. But each time he lost his balance he dug his nails into the wall and pushed himself up, carrying on.
How far away was it? He could tell. It was impossible to gauge depth. Impossible!
But he had to make it. He had to reach it!
Something pummeled into him, sending him flying backward away from the wall. He landed on his tailbone, saving his head from another crack on the floor but sending a shock of pain coursing up and down his spine. He struggled to his feet, bent over himself to fight off the pain.
Not another person. Please, anything but another person. Naked, frightened, injured. He didn't have the energy to shift again.
Something brushed passed him, warm and soft, but there was no skin. It was like fur, soft and silky. Aidan froze and held his breath.
An animal. Good god, a big one too, by the feel of it. How was he supposed to deal with this? He was dead. Deaddeaddead. Dead with that sliver of light shining his eyes. He squeezed them shut, gritting his teeth, and tossed back his head, exposing his throat to the beast.
Make it quick, he pleaded.
Soft, warm laughter filled the air. It was quiet, but close enough from him to hear. Something curled around his body, warm, welcoming, friendly. At least he wouldn't die shivering and cold. He let himself fall forward over the beast, and waited for death.
.:.:.::.:.:.
Aidan counted a full two minutes before lifting his head. He was not dead. The beast, whatever it was, had spared him. He felt it move against him and slip out of his hold. He fell to the floor, gasping, and blinking his eyes.
There was light. Everywhere.
"Welcome to the Twisted Fate, Aidan."
Aidan snapped his head upward, his pupils tiny pinpricks against the foreign color. (Color, everywhere! Red, brighter than rust and paler than blood. Bright, beautiful red.) There was movement out of the corner of his eye and he twisted his head to see. Something living, something breathing and talking here, that he could hear, and see, and smell, and taste.
The...thing that spoke to him was nothing like he'd ever seen before. Fox-like and large, with wings and feathers. It, too, was a bright fiery red.
"Well,” the thing ruffled its wings, grinning obtusely,” My jobs done, then. Clothes in the closet, and I'm sure someone will send you food shortly. Good-luck, and bye for now!" It grinned, and in flash of too-bright light (ever so welcome) it was gone.
Aidan let out a long, relaxing, sigh.
He was saved.
.:.:.::.:.:.
The secondsminuteshours passed through his mind in a whirr of empty thoughtlessness. He couldn't help but count. It was impossible to stop, having spent nearly a week doing nothing but counting and crawling through long, dark hallways (wide hallways, rooms, giant rooms). He'd spent, according to his counting, two and a half hours (and 45 seconds) in the room. No one disturbed him, and no one came to bring him food or water as promised. But he had a bed, fresh, clean, clothes, and he could see. Good god, food could wait, so long as he had that.
And he was...he was free. He was saved. He didn't no precisely where he was, but he knew he wasn't there, and that was all that really mattered. Perhaps there was a telephone he could use to call Theresa. Tell her what happened. She couldn’t be angry. Oh god, she couldn't be mad at him after this. Not after everything he'd been through.
But he had to call her.
With a groan Aidan pulled himself off the bed. He wiggled his bare toes in the thick carpet and trod across the room toward the door. There had been no phone in the room, he'd checked earlier. He didn't want to leave the comfort of it, small, confined, warm, and bright, but he had to. He needed food, and water, and a phone. Had to call Theresa.
Aidan cracked open the door and slipped into the hall, keeping one barefoot between it and the wall (he didn't have a key, after all, and he didn't want it to lock). The halls were long and dark. A shiver coursed up and down his spine but he suppressed it and edge a little further down. He could see, he told himself, heart slamming wildly against his rib cage. It didn't matter, so long as he could see.
Something materialized suddenly before his eyes. He gasped and leapt back against the wall, losing his footing against the door. It slammed shut behind him and he let out another groan.
"Whoa, there! Relax, I'm not going to hurt you!"
Aidan slowly moved his eyes toward the...thing. Good god, it was huge. Over ten feet tall, and distinctly dragon-like. Aidan relaxed, letting out a gush of air. A dragon...that was...fine. Not a monster (or any distinctly monster-like dragons, such as the infamous hydra), just an ordinary looking dragon.
"I'm Abhan, Custodian of you chosen. You need anything, you come to me! What's your name?"
"Aidan,"he replied, voice cracked, dry. God, he sounded so loud.
"Hm,"the dragon hunkered down to a sit,” You look rather out of sorts. You all right?"
"Fine...now...I need a phone."
"Phone? We don't really have phones. We've got some vid-phones, and coms and things, but no real phones. What for?"
"Need to call my wife."
"She doesn't have any of those?"
Aidan shook his head. He was never one for technology. Keep things simple, that's what he liked.
Simple. Much unlike everything happening to him now. Where was he?
"Where am I?"
The dragon blinked, frowning,"Wh- oh. By the deities, have the seekers stopped bothering to explain what they're doing as well?" he rolled his eyes,” This is the Twisted Fate, a...er...well it's a lot of things, but seeing as you're a stranger here, and in this particular hall, I'm guessing your a candidate."
"Candidate?"
"To bond, or sponsor, a dragon...thing...probably," it waved a paw dismissively,"Anywho, I'll see what I can do about that phone,” he flicked his eyes up and down Aidan's scrawny form,” And we'll get you something too eat as well. Be back in a moment." He winked, and, without so much as a shimmer in the air, disappeared as suddenly as he came.
Aidan collapsed against the wall, his hand curled over the cool, twisted metal of the doorknob. Metal. The whole corridor seemed to be made of glistening, dark metal. Almost completely devoid of any reflection, it was so dark and dull. A near semblance to stone. He turned, slowly, and rattled the doorknob.
Locked.
Damn. He knew it. Knew it! If he let that door close, he'd be stuck in the hall. The long, dark, endless, hall.
Aidan shivered again, wrapping his arms around his chest, and sank against his door, pressing his knees to his torso. The dragon would be back, and he'd let him in. No worries. No worries. He wasn't trapped. He could go wherever he liked, probably. There were lots of people here. This was a...a hotel, or something. Maybe.
He was supposed to bond a dragon.
What did that mean? Bonding was voluntary, wasn't it? He'd never heard of anyone being forced to bond. Must have been a mistake. Aidan...had a family to take care of. A job he couldn't tell anyone about. He had secrets that couldn't be shared, toils that couldn't be lessened. He couldn't have a dragon.
He needed to get home.
He needed to get in his room.
A sound erupted from down the hall, slow and muted. It so very soft that Aidan did not register it at first, passing it off as the same as the electric hum emanating from the power source of the hotel...thing...he was on. But slowly, steadily, it got louder, higher pitched even, like the sound of metal racing along metal.
Aidan lifted his head from his knees and stared down the darkness of the hall.
Something was moving.
It was impossible to see, there wasn't much lighting, and the colors were already dark, dark grey. But he could tell something was moving, swaying a little, and making steady ground forward. Perhaps it was the dragon...or another. Someone sent with food and water and, most importantly of all, some way to contact Theresa. Maybe the other hadn't told him what room he was in.
Aidan slowly rose to his feet and waved an arm wildly at the form,” Down here!"
The noise, and the movement, stopped. Aidan could now just barely pick out the silhouette of...whatever it was. Definitely a dragon, but other than that, Aidan could not tell. It stood, still and quiet, for a few secondsminutes, cocking its head in a curious manner.
Aidan shouted again, waving still.
The thing stepped forward, slowly at first, and then faster. The sound of the metal-on-metal became almost unbearably loud until it ceased all together, and Aidan could see the dragon raising something high up off the floor. Light glinted off of it, illuminating the shadows for a split second. And Aidan could see.
It was a dragon. Red-brown and clad in armor. The metal sound had been from its sword, long and broad, many times Aidan's full size. The glint itself had been a cause of the dragon brandishing the sward in the air, racing with thick, heavy legs down the hall...
...toward him.
Aidan's breath caught in his throat.
This was no friendly creature come to show him into his room. It was something entirely different. Something...something. Aidan could not put words to it, and suddenly his mind was filled with black dread. His heart raced and he whipped around to his door, rattling the knob frantically.
Oh god, god. It was going to kill him. It was getting closer. So close. No longer just a malformed speck, but massive and near. The light seemed to be sucked away with it, and as its presence stormed closer and closer the air seemed to fill with a horrible stench.
Rust and blood. Rust and blood. What he'd been smelling all week.
He rattled wilder, throwing himself against the door. It did not budge.
Oh god, oh god, he was going to die. He was free, and he was going to die.
Rust and blood, rust and blood. Like the machine. Like the halls.
With a hopeless moan he tore himself from the door and raced down the hall. He flung himself at the next room, gripping the knob and twisting it violently.
It opened.
Sucking in air he threw himself into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.
Safe. Safe. He was safe. It didn't get him.
He whipped around and locked the door, before flinging himself toward the corner of the room, flicking the lights on as he passed.
Good god. He wasn't saved at all, was he?
This was just one more game. Only, now, he'd lost his dice. What happened when you had nothing to play with, he wondered.
And outside his room he could hear the steady screech of sharp metal sliding along the corridor floor. Louder and louder, until it passed, sinking slowly into silence as the creature continued into the abyss.