October (Halloween) Vignette

I like the suggestion brought back in to light by Ebivoulya, originally made by Fox Owen Xavier, but modified a bit. In light of Halloween, and this suggestion, I’d like to bring it forth. Vignette open from October 19th until November 30th.

Vignette rules can be found here.

Prompt: Your character has somehow been trapped by a crazed wizard/witch within a terrifying maze created from the most horrific nightmares and fears of the individual characters involved.

How does your character become involved with this wizard/witch? Is it a chance trap sprung upon your character? A past enemy come back to hinder your character in any way? What are the goals behind the wizard/witch's unknown victory over your character? Their onslaught of horrific attacks while exploring the maze (mental and/or physical)? What happens within the maze to where your character may have solved and/or may have failed fending off their most devastating fears and monstrous attacks while trying to escape the maze path to freedom?

Creativity is key here!

The ground shuddered and rattled as a distant thunder rolled, but the room the half-elf opened his eyes to was cramped and dark. The thin air wafted acrid in his nostrils, breaths barely visible. His steel-heeled boots grated against uneven floor as he staggered to his feet, and he checked the pockets of his leather vest while looking around. Jagged metal wove into itself at right angles to form the ceiling and floor, and the mold that lined the walls was black in the azure glow of the room's only light. The fleshy protrusion hung off of one wall, bulging with some bright blue fluid, and the half-elf's gloved hands found his belt empty as well. The dark walls narrowed into a hallway in one corner, through which another rumble echoed as the floor shuddered again. He spent several minutes straining his sharp ears, but the occasional tremor was all that broke the silence. Hiding wouldn't get him anywhere, so he decided to look around.

The floor of the hallway was flatter, but wispy black tendrils extended an uncomfortable distance out of the walls. He turned sideways as he entered the winding tunnel, which slanted upwards at odd angles. He slowly side-stepped down the hall, his dark ponytail tucked into the collar of his vest. The thin strands sprouting from the walls all swayed gently as he passed, reaching as close as they could to him. Lit in the glow of another fleshy blue light, the half-elf glanced up to see a few black butterflies hovering before him. He brushed them away with one gloved hand, but they kept fluttering back. With a swift slap, he knocked one into the wall's grasp, and it was wrapped up and pulled into the dark moss.

Though he managed to bat another into the opposite wall, the third floated past his hand and landed on his lower neck. His eyes bulged and he whipped his hand up to brush it off, but when he grabbed the thing, it was already dissolving into countless tiny black bugs. The half-elf threw his gloves down with a curse and backed away as the pain in his neck grew sharper; then he felt the tug of tiny tendrils on the back of his vest. He clawed at his neck with one bare hand as he struggled, finally pulling free In the dim light he could barely make out the small flecks on his fingers as they burrowed into the skin. Staring with gritted teeth, he tried to decide what to do, but the pain in his neck was already growing dull. A quick brush of his fingertips revealed only smooth skin.

The warped metal floor groaned and rattled as distant thunder rumbled down the tunnel again, and after several minutes the half-elf found the will to continue, without his gloves. The hallway wound on for some time, with nothing but occasional tremors and that same sharp scent to fill the silence. Voices wafted down the hall, hushed by another rattling shudder, and the half-elf shifted his vest to one side to hide the tiny holes in his neck while he approached them. The two people there watched silently as he side-stepped out of the cramped hallway and into the open, the ceiling and floor twisting away to form a jagged sphere. The pair sat opposite the rusted dell, dour features lit by a cluster of fleshy bulbs hanging above.

"Greetings," the woman said as she stood, her bright dress washed pale in the blue light. She asked if he knew the way out in a voice so soft it hid behind the distant thunder. The half-elf started walking around the edge of the room as he answered. "No, and I take it you don't either" he replied, and she shook her head. The shorter man behind her rose as the newcomer approached. "All the paths from here lead to dead ends?" he asked, and the woman hesitated before responding. "There is one path, but-"

"It's a death trap."

The shorter man's gruff voice cut her off, his plain pants and leather tunic marking him a simple worker. The woman explained quietly that they had already lost a member of their group down that path. "That black stuff just reached down, poured into his nose and eyes, and pulled him up into the ceiling." The shorter man rubbed his bald head as he spoke, eyes downcast and shoulders tense. The half-elf thought back to the tendrils in the hallway, his meager sympathy at odds with his disgust over the midget's cowardice. "My name is Ivere, by the way, and this is Laudin," the woman said, gesturing to the shorter man. "What is your name?"

"Nyadir."

A brief confusion passed over her features, but she explained that their group had all met in the hallway between this room, and the room in which they lost their other member. Laudin's hands shook as she recounted the tale, and the half-elf tried to hide his frown; weakness was always displeasing. "That must be the way forward, then," he said to the pair. Ivere's solemn nod was overshadowed by her shorter companion stepping forward in protest.

"Way forward or not," the man started, and Nyadir's knuckles whitened as he reigned in his desire to strangle the midget. "I, uhh, am not going back there!" The words from Laudin faded into another rattling shudder, and the taller man had to take a few moments to calm himself before responding. He must not have hid his features well enough, though, since the midget's bravado was already withering in the silence.

"So you will stay here to starve?" Nyadir asked, in a quiet voice.

Just above her plump cheeks, Ivere's eyes swiveled between the two in concern, but the shorter man was already quietly resigning himself. "I guess, uh... That is to say, I, uh, I'm definitely not going first!" The half-elf's shoulders relaxed as the midget folded into place, his eyes turning on Ivere. "Did any of you wake with weapons, or find any?" he asked, but she shook her head before brushing dark hair out of her face.

The half-elf bade her to lead the way, and after a few moments of mumbling fluster, Laudin was sluggishly following along. They were all breathing heavier by the time they passed the other starting rooms, the thin air sharp but unfulfilling. Though much wider, this hallway also wandered aimlessly in the blue light, and it was several silent minutes before rhythmic clicking and the deep groans of metal floated in on the acrid breeze. The grating racket grew, and upon turning an oddly-angled corner the ceiling and floor sank away, leaving a thin metal walkway stretching out into the shifting dark. Flesh bulbs lined the walls a stone's throw on either side of the path, and thick tentacles hung low near the center of it.

The moving shadows below resolved into massive gears and cogs shrieking alongside each-other as the metal slowly bent. Ivere said something, but it was lost to the cacophony, and Laudin started stammering about the way being blocked, but the half-elf quietly studied the writhing mass of metal. The tentacles of black mold only hung low enough to be a threat in one place, and after a few moments of the midget mumbling, Nyadir spotted a path among the gears. Laudin was less than enthused by the prospect, but he folded into line again not long after.

The walkway was misshapen and narrow, but it remained sturdy. Smooth pillars sprouted from the bottom of the path every few paces, and it was at one of those the group first stopped. Nyadir crouched to grab the edge, and hopped off the side, swinging his legs down to wrap around the smooth support beam. After securing his grip, he offered his other hand to the pair. Ivere sat down on the edge without much hesitation, and the half-elf carefully swung her down to wrap around the support. Laudin was more trouble, and continued mumbling until the taller man threatened to leave him. The midget swung a bit rougher, but made it down after some bluster.

Nyadir arrived last, and led the way into the groaning maze of metal. Despite moving so slowly, the oddly angled gears were difficult to traverse. The half-elf had to frequently haul Laudin away from the crushing teeth of giant cogs, the midget barely able to manage more than shivering and clinging to each gear. Ivere proved much more spry, often trying to calm down the shorter man. It only took a few minutes, but the taller man was glad when they finally passed below the dark tentacles that hung across the path above. Nyadir latched onto the walkway and hauled the two up, and they finally escaped the grinding cacophony.

The warped hallway they walked wandered off at odd angles, and the group proceeded in silence. After several minutes their misty breaths grew heavy, and they rested a moment. The sharp scent that hung on the nose before seemed lighter now, and after several more minutes hushed mutters hid behind the rumbling tremors. They approached the next corner cautiously, and the walls widened out to encircle a tattered camp.

Ramshackle tents squatted near the walls, sewn together out of rags and old clothes, and the people huddled in the center didn't fare much better. The trio approached cautiously, but all of the residents were too preoccupied rambling softly to each-other to care. The half-elf picked his way carefully past all manner of freak, ranging from simple pockmarks and missing features, to misshapen limbs and unnatural skin. None of them looked normal, so he was hoping to quietly pass them by, but a glance backward revealed Ivere ruining that plan.

She kneeled in her pale dress next to a particularly small one, clasping a hand that had been warped into dark wood. Laudin was already urging her to leave the child, but she continued to try to comfort it instead. The twisted little thing only stared at the floor, and Nyadir grew tired of the midget's spineless requests. "Are you able to help that child?" he asked, and she turned her head to him. After a moment, she said "Well no, but-"

"Then leave it."

Eyes wide, she furrowed her brow as she prepared a tirade, but another odd look passed over her face, and she sank back into silence. That was the second time this woman had looked at him strangely, and the slithering vines of suspicion wormed their way into his thoughts. After a few more moments of caressing the warped wooden hand, Ivere let it drop and stood to rejoin the group. As they walked through the crowd of twisted figures, she explained that she had taken care of her younger siblings; as though it justified endangering the group. The half-elf's original assessment of her was too optimistic.

Two tanned faces waited at the entrance to the next hallway, lanky forms looming over the group with clear black eyes. The older met the group with a calm smile, while the younger remain stoic. Though their garb was minimal, it was more bright and well-kept than the rags coating the others; perhaps tribal folk. "Hello to you friends," the older man spoke, his accent thick but bearable. "Are you traveling down the tunnel today?"

"We're certainly not staying here." Laudin replied, and the others nodded. The older man introduced himself as Abron, and the younger as Kerlant. He explained that they had only been in the camp a few days, and hadn't been able to get much from the others. The only ones that could respond grew terrified whenever the tunnels were mentioned, and none of them were willing to leave. The group agreed to take them on in short order, but a familiar moment of bewilderment passed over the two when Nyadir introduced himself. AFter that, he stayed near the back as they started down the warped hallway. His eyes remained fixed on the backs of the two tan men as they quietly chatted with the other two. Every now and then they briefly met eyes with the half-elf, and over time he could hear them, whispering things even as they spoke.

After several minutes of heavy breaths and the occasional rattling shudder, they reached an intersection. A single fleshy bulb hung over the jagged pit, with three identical hallways winding off into the dark. It didn't take them long to agree to continue straight ahead. Their next destination gave them more pause, however. The desiccated corpses of giant black caterpillars littered the edges, gaunt and withered, but large enough to have been a threat when alive. Stranger were the rag-covered kids all huddled around a large pot of steaming stew. They didn't notice the group of adults at first, who skirted the edge of the room on Abron's counsel. The half-elf's eyes narrowed at the older man's back, but the group quietly followed.

Ivere broke away from the group, her arms outstretched in concern for the tattered children, who looked up with hopeful eyes and quivering lips. Tears already streaming down her face, she kneeled to embrace the first one, while the others circled around. Kerlant called to her to return, but she started babbling about protecting them. Tiny hands gripped at her dress, and her arms, as they slowly drew her down onto her back. She looked around confused, eyes wild as more tiny hands gripped her lower jaw and pulled it wide. Boiling stew poured down her throat from a large wooden ladle, which immediately scooped out more from the pot. Coughing and sputtering, she struggled to escape, but they just kept pouring more stew. She gargled for help in-between mouthfuls, but Abron's arm shot out to stop Kerlant from running to her.

Ivere's skin grew dark as her abdomen swelled, pale dress splitting wide open. The kids released her and stepped back, her arms and legs now withered twigs that twitched as she grew. They soon fell off entirely, her features smoothing out as her teeth receded and her throat closed up. Her eyes remained, bulging as her last gurgling scream ended in a disgusting spurt, her mouth shrunken down into a clenched sphincter. Now swollen to match the husks of black caterpillars littered around the room, she stared at the group as the kids circled once more, this time bearing knives and forks. They cut into her flesh and ripped out slabs of meat that they devoured ravenously, but a black fuzz quickly coated the wounds to stop the bleeding. Her pleading eyes darted between the different members of the group, but none of them moved. Finally, Abron started walking toward the exit again, and the rest quietly followed. The kids were finished now, sitting with full bellies beside Ivere, whose twitching eyes followed the group's slow progress. They left her there, and continued down the twisted halls.

The silence stretched as they clambered down jagged slopes, and back up winding paths. Though none spoke, the midget stared blankly at the warped metal floor. Had he been alone, he would likely be back at that camp until he rotted away, but at least he stopped complaining; the others were the ones to watch. The room they now approached glowed much brighter than the sparse bulbs of flesh lining the hallways, and the group paused at its maw. Corpses floated throughout in different poses, as though they had interrupted some macabre dance. Only by looking from different angles could they see the shimmer that slid down the many thin strands filling the room. Even after stating the obvious, and pondering it for a few minutes, none of the others had worked up the nerve to enter. The half-elf stepped forward, the edges of his eyes swirling black in the azure light.

"Just follow me."

The strands jumped into focus as his vision pulsed crimson, several paths open to them, and he walked towards the clearest. He stepped over the first thread, ducked the second, and leaned around a third before pausing to look back. Teeth gritted as the group slowly mimicked his movements, he kept his breathing calm while he waited. Then he moved forward again, clearing a few strands before waiting once more. The pace was grueling, and his knuckles were white by the time they neared the other end of the room. His bare fingers scratched idly at his neck, before he caught himself.

A shout drew his eyes to the group to see Laudin stumble back from the edge of the room a few paces before stumbling into Kerlant. The midget spun immediately, shoving the much taller man with another shout before dropping to one knee with a curse. Kerlant fell backwards, his arm hanging in the air and swinging him around as he dropped down to one knee. Something black wriggled on Laudin's ankle, and he had to claw at it for a few seconds before he managed to pry it off and throw it against the wall. Others lined the floor directly beneath the fleshy bulbs, though they looked like small black flowers when undisturbed.

"Could someone give me a hand?"

The room grew quiet at Kerlant's question, and everyone except the cursing midget looked over at him. His arm and leg were stuck out at odd angles, and he rested on one knee. He tried to stand, but only ended up swinging around a bit before settling again. Nyadir's brow furrowed when one of the nearby strands detached one end of itself, and he warned the group to stay put. Another thread detached, and another, with the taller man continuing to plead all the while. One of the strands whipped up and stuck to his back, and another wrapped across one side of his tan face. His begging grew more desperate, but nobody moved.

"Somebody! Laudin, you did this, help me out of here!"

"I'm, uh... I'm sorry. I didn't, uh..."

Abron was already looking to the half-elf, who nodded quietly before telling the midget to follow them. The group started slowly traversing the strands again, while Kerlant pleaded. When they neared the exit, his begging turned to anger, but the group continued forward. His voice was raw and ragged when they finally reached the hallway, and his cheeks were already wet. They left him there, and continued down the winding tunnels.

The group came to another intersection several minutes later, huffing and bent over as they examined the crooked crossroads. A single flesh bulb hung in one corner, its dim blue light barely reaching the furthest path. The remaining three all disagreed on which path to take at first, but Laudin soon decided to side with Abron, and the half-elf narrowed his eyes. The midget may simply be questioning his leadership, but he might have other motives. Nyadir could almost hear them scheming as he stared back and forth between the two, but he finally relented; simpler to spring the trap himself than waste time arguing.

The group clambered down a jagged slope to the shaded path, turning sideways to avoid the thin black tendrils extending from each wall. The half-elf stayed in the back, his wary eyes trained on his two companions. After several minutes, they started conversing, and gentle chiding and criticism soon turned to accusations and arguing. "Of course it wasn't on purpose! You saw that thing that attacked me," the midget protested, but the taller man ahead furrowed his tan brow in doubt. Nyadir rubbed his bare arms as they traveled, and the other two continued bickering. "Well, what about Ivere?" the shorter-man asked. "You stopped us from helping her!"

"How could we have helped her?" Abron asked loudly, his accent thicker than usual. "Do you know what the hell that was?" The midget had no answer, but the taller man continued his tirade anyways, and the third idly scratched his neck. The trio stopped in the darkness between two distant flesh-bulbs, and the eyes of the half-elf and the midget were drawn to one wall. The shadow opened up into a dark room, with one dim flesh bulb casting its azure glow over a small, smooth dais in the center of the floor. Twisted and warped furniture lay scattered in the darkness, barely silhouettes. Abron was still berating Laudin, stopped now a few feet ahead of the others. A small figure moved in the darkened room, its rounded body as smooth and featureless as its plain gray head, a simple cylinder like some kind of helmet. Its arms and legs were even smaller; the thing glided into the light, and turned the one small hole in its head toward the man who still spoke.

Abron's dark eyes grew wide as he started sliding into the shadowed room, his low whimper turned to muffled shouts as his body bent over backwards. Several loud cracks brought his terrified moans to a crescendo, arms and legs twisting into unnatural shapes, and the skin on his abdomen rolled up like paper. Both legs arced up high above him, toes elongated and bent, and his intestines lashed out to wrap around them. His face flattened and widened, one arm bent behind his head to claw at the floor with gnarled knuckles. Wide mouth contorted into a grimace, his misshapen eyes latched onto the pair in the hallway, before his skin started hardening into darkened wood. The small figure approached, and sat down on the wide seat, plucking at the taut intestines like the strings of a harp. The sound was wet and flat, the melody dissonant and jagged; it followed them far down the warped hall.

The last two shuffled down the tunnel in silent desperation, warped walls widening and shrinking as the path wandered. Eventually, the thin black tendrils receded, and the pair stopped to compose themselves. Fleeing anything was impossible in the thin air, and their breaths billowed opaque in the blue glow of a nearby light. Nyadir eyed his last remaining companion quietly, and made sure the shorter man stayed in front. After they recovered, the two continued slowly down the hallway, and soon a sharp new smell filled the air. Somewhere between a corpse pile and a tannery, it grew so strong the midget started gagging, but the half-elf was wise to his play, and kept his distance. After much more meandering in the dim light, the pair finally neared the entrance to another room.

Hundreds of pipes wove between each-other, lining the walls at least a few layers deep, with several flesh bulbs dangling from the low ceiling. Near the far exit stood another smooth and featureless figure, this one headless and stretching nearly to the ceiling. Its spindly arms ended in massive hands, and it seemed to be checking the pipes. Laudin took a few steps back, but a pair of bloody arms threw the mumbling midget sprawling into the center of the room. Kerlant stood huffing, strips of skin pulled clean off of him, and streaks of blood covering the rest. Nyadir eyed him with surprise, but a shriek cut off his train of thought.

One massive hand held Laudin up by his head, the other stroking his body with blunted fingers. His arms melted into his sides as his body lengthened, legs fusing together and clothes sliding off. His mouth widened while his eyes slid to either side of his head, and a gurgling groan escaped him just before the tall figure shoved a thick metal rod down his throat. His gagging filled the silence for several long moments, before the rod popped out the other end with a squelch. The featureless figure then bent the fleshy cylinder into shape, before setting it against the wall for a moment to turn off a nearby valve.

Rapid breathing filled the silence, Laudin's eyes darting around while he hyperventilated. Massive hands reached into the maze of pipes and pulled one free that had been leaking some pungent black fluid. The familiar smell of toxic chemicals and rot filled the frigid air as the liquid splashed across the floor. Laudin was lifted up and fitted into place to replace the leaking pipe, his muffled retching hidden beneath the loud squeal of bolts being twisted into place. His twitching eyes bulged as the valve was opened once more, and he was slowly pulled into the wall as other pipes grew to cover him, like leaves in the jungle.

Bare hands wrapped around Kerlant's tan throat, the heavier half-elf pushing the taller man off balance, before bearing him down to the jagged metal floor. His lanky fingers clawed at the stocky arms holding him down, but Nyadir paid them no mind. "So it was you the whole time," he began, half-way between a snarl and a laugh. Kerlant only looked up confused, legs kicking uselessly. "I saw it from the beginning, I heard you both!" Nyadir continued ranting as his fingers dug into the other's neck, tiny black bugs crawling out of his neck and face. They even began crawling out of the half-elf's nose and mouth, the chewed remains of his tongue plopping down onto the other's face. With a blink, Nyadir was looking up at his own disfigured body choking him, the tiny insects already crawling into his nose and eyes.

"They really were more trouble than they're worth, weren't they?"

The swollen lips of his body moved, but the half-elf couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. "At least now they've found purpose," the voice continued, face blurring as the insects chewed at the edges of Nyadir's eyes. "Every chance they have will be tainted by betrayal." Nausea swelled in the half-elf's throat, and more black bugs burst forth as his vision grew dark. "Embrace the gnawing. We must seek, ever more." The chittering of insects grew in his ears, a chorus to the voracious void.

"More guests for us to enjoy."

Vignette closed for judgment. Thank you so much for your participation!

Judgement for Hallowe'en Vignette:

Prompt: Your character has somehow been trapped by a crazed wizard/witch within a terrifying maze created from the most horrific nightmares and fears of the individual characters involved.

How does your character become involved with this wizard/witch? Is it a chance trap sprung upon your character? A past enemy come back to hinder your character in any way? What are the goals behind the wizard/witch's unknown victory over your character? Their onslaught of horrific attacks while exploring the maze (mental and/or physical)? What happens within the maze to where your character may have solved and/or may have failed fending off their most devastating fears and monstrous attacks while trying to escape the maze path to freedom?

Winner:

As Ebivoulya was the only one to submit to this vignette, then he automatically wins the contest.

He receives: 700 EXP and 200 Gold.

Commentary to follow.

Commentary for Ebivoulya

Plot:

The setting you create in this piece is rich and introduced well. Small details such as the butterflies surviving, and not surviving, add to the eeriness that you establish of the place. The scene continues to get interesting with the village of tents, the introduction of other people and the general mystery of the place. You continue to establish parts of the maze-like structure, with suggestions of gears and movement, and the addition of unique details aid your writing well into the end.
Plot is very well established from the beginning, and you have a great sense of the mystery of the horror around it. You build tension well and only let out secrets when they are least expected, that aid the building of such. The final twist is punchy and unexpected. Pacing is more or less good, but is jarred a little with the amalgamation of speech within one paragraph. If you space them out it will aid to clarity and ease of reading.

Character:

The main character being your half-elf Nyadir builds up successfully over time, with elements of his personality being built on. At the start the concentration for the piece was on setting the scene, but once you got into the story and the climax of the betrayal. Though he speaks little his actions are powerful and meaningful, with little fuss about them. Some elements of persona could be used in here, but overall you built a convincing person-hood.
He carries the plot well, though this is also supported by the other characters, especially Ivere and Laudin. They each give their own perspectives on things and give the idea that there is more of a mystery to the place than is at first seen.

Writing:

There is a great amount of description for the scenery, that allows the reader to picture the piece within their mind. The use of language, when you speak of gears and the tents etc adds to this. Overall more imagery could be picked up and a wider vocabulary would be a way to develop, but in general this piece has allowance for the reader to understand what they are looking at and what is occurring.
For speech, it is good practise if you separate out each speaker to their own line. This can help the reader to know who is speaking more clearly. There are times as well that you to not use a comma before introducing a line of speech. A quick scan before posting can aid here.
Aside from this there are no moments where the story is not clear.

Conclusion:

Overall, a good read with just a few areas to tidy up. It fitted the prompt well and though it was longer than a traditional vignette deserved the win.