The exterior of the tower seemed to betray the interior: The hall set before them seemed to go on for miles. The walls of somber grey stone were lit by torches, burning wild in their holders of bubbly iron. There were no doors on the walls, and the hallway was big enough for three people to walk abreast.
Marvin took the lead. As they walked they heard whispers.305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5akZGyOKLt
" . . . Your fault . . . " heard Marvin. 305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx8BHtYbRVv
"You say something?" he muttered to the three agents behind him.
"I was about to ask the same," said Charlotte as she looked at the stones.
"I hear shit, too," said Ignas, "whispering, it sounds like."
"At least I'm not alone," said Marcus, slightly more comfortable with the phantasms.
The path sloped downward and the roof grew farther away from their heads. Neither fear nor peace came from this change. Marvin came upon steps. After a few dozen steps there was a dip; about 7 feet below there was hard-packed earth.
"There's a little drop, watch yourselves," warned Marvin.
He helped them down and continued. The whispers stopped. Ahead was a murky cave, still lit by some candles that stood on iron poles. There was a faint breeze within, and the sound of cave critters filled the air. Nothing strange existed in this cave; it was almost peaceful.
"You think we made it out?" asked Marcus, "I mean, I don't know, it feels real 'nature-like' around here."305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2PZfFrDISh
The light at the end of the cave, Marvin thought, may yield an answer.
It was a forest, a lush forest filled with the songs of birds and sunlight sieving through the trees. Ancient stones older than any man sat wet and slick, sides carpeted with moss. Motes and butterflies fluttered through the air before their eyes. But there was one great bizarre aspect of this wondrous wood.
The leaves, flowers, bugs, sky, everything, was devoid of color. They were surrounded by light-grey leaves and dark-grey stones. Only their bodies and the clothes that covered them kept their vibrancy. 305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡifptyXDe9q
Through the woods, came a wagon: a fancy one used to transport people, it looked like. The driver was a rough-looking man who kept his unkempt, fading hair under a cap. He reminded Marvin of a homeless man. The driver smiled and waved at the quartet.305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBlEYvoSWoK
"Hey, Marvin," whispered Marcus as the wagon approached, "how much you got left in the mag?"
"None," Marvin said glumly as he slid the empty mag back in, "but there's one in the hole."
"Valorous m'rning!" the driver shouted, "Strange fellows thou art."
"Who the fuck are you?" said Marvin as he tucked the gun back into his waistband.305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0DCFHjsipo
"Strange of speech as well. But I und'rstand," said the driver, "Mine own nameth is Ross. Rejoiceth! The voice of god hast taken me h're. The prince hast finally awaken'd. I am to taketh thee."
The four looked at each other.
"I say we go," said Ignas.
"Are you crazy?" chided Charlotte, "why should we trust this guy?"
"We don't, but, it may lead to the only answers we need."
"answers? What do you mean?"
"I'm with Ignas," said Marcus, "It's like the bridge outside the lobby, where else are we gonna go?"
"Anywhere but here," Charlotte said without confidence.
"For all, we know," added Marvin, "we are still in this fucking tower. This nightmare or whatever you want to call it. And I don't think we'll just 'wake up' if you know what I mean."
"We're in that glossy-faced thing's game," Marcus mused, "guess we have to play by its rules."
"Marcus, what—" said Charlotte.
"For now. alright?" mollified Marcus.
"We keep our eyes peeled," said Ignas, "anything goes wrong, well . . . "
"I'll try to make my shot count," finished Marvin.305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡraxwrNVq0N
The driver waited patiently, humming some forgotten hymn. When he saw his passengers he hopped off his seat and opened the door for them. It seated four: Charlotte sat with Marcus, and Marvin sat with Ignas.305Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJzwqIHbWph
The driver's humming turned to a mumbling of lyrics, as the wagon creaked and cracked as its rickety wheels rolled down the rocky path.
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