Inescapable You
Prologue
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Far beyond the scraggly, moss-eaten foothills of Tulgey Wood, there was a dilapidated, splinter-flanked windmill built upon a lonesome, grass-less hill. Years of erosion and gravity caused the large building to lean at a perilous angle; the fence surrounding the property had been reduced to a series of rotten, corrugated posts jutting awkwardly from the ground. Not only that, but the narrow walkway that lead up to the building was a deathtrap in and of itself. The front door to this decrepit edifice precariously hung on its hinges, so whenever the wind blew, the door would groan open and squeal shut. The cracked windows, too, were in a matching state of decay, having been caked with years of accumulated dirt and grime. On the walls, the faded, water-stained wallpaper had begun to peel and curl; in some spots, the infrastructure of the building (or what was left of it, anyway) lay completely bare.
Despite their significant difference in height and appearance, Iracebeth of Crims and Ilosovic Stayne wore matching expressions of horror.
"You guys'll be nice 'n cozy here," rasped the age-worn voice of their self-proclaimed tour guide, "We got indoor plummin', and look-"
He flipped a switch. After this, there was an uneasy pause.
"Uh… well, we had electric but… I'm sure a couple'a youngins' like yerselves can fix a light bulb 'r two, ay? We got candles, if that don't work fer yeh." The old geezer gave a wheezy laugh and, with the 'thump' of his wooden cane articulating his foot steps, he turned to the dumbfounded duo at the other side the room. He smiled at them, revealing what few teeth he had remaining. They dared not to breathe. "Hehe, yer speechless! I knew yeh would be. This is what we call a fine spec'mine of a buildin'."
Speechless… that was another word for it.
"Whatcha better look out fer is them Momeraths; don't wanna step on them little guys. They get awful feisty," the old man looked deadly serious as he said this. "They're night critters; mighty friendly if ya don't hurt 'em."
Stayne did his best not to snort derisively. Momeraths? What species of idiot would believe such a stupid, bald-faced lie? Those hairy little termites were about as vicious as a daddy-longlegs!
"Uh… what else? I'll be bringin' yer food 'n stuff. 'M not th'best cook on this side of the Tulgey, but I tell yeh what, I can cook a mean stew!"
Iracebeth could feel her gaping mouth twitch with disbelief; if the old man's food was as good as his ability to speak coherent English, then her life was in mortal danger!
He hummed thoughtfully to himself, wrinkled fingers worrying at the brass handle of his cane.
"Well, I think that jus' 'bout covers it. The two o' yeh better behave yerselves, 'cuz I'll be checkin' in on yeh e'ry so often," the short, slouched man thumped his way towards the exit, but just as his skeletal fingertips reached for the doorknob, he paused. "Er… by the way, we got a shield 'o sorts 'round this place. So don't go thinkin' about escapin', cuz' I'll tell yeh what, burnin' to a crisp ain't pretty."
With that, the man disappeared behind the asymmetrical entrance and let it click shut behind him. For a couple moments, the two exiles numbly stood in the room, staring the kittywampus door– the door that now emblemized the seal of their fate. Stayne and Iracebeth glanced down at their shackled wrists and then, from the corners of their eyes, at each other.
After that… all hell broke loose.
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Author's Note:
This is going to be short and concise side project. The third chapter of 'Queen Me' is almost complete! I have lots of homework to do, too. Meep.
Momeraths are featured in Disney's animated version of Alice in Wonderland. As Alice is walking around in the Tulgey Woods, those furry little guys band together and form an arrow that leads her to the path out of the forest.