Chapter 2:
The smell grows worse as they move closer to the bound man. Almost unbearably so. The thick, cloying, coppery scent of blood, mixed with piss and shit and bile. Worse still, as they come within several paces of the man, the smell of burning flesh.
Julia does lose her breakfast then, turning and expelling across the cave floor.
Tim is by her side in an instant, pulling her ponytail back from her face, rubbing soothingly against her back.
"It's okay." He says. "You're okay."
Julia can only nod, shaking as she tries to press her nausea down.
It takes several minutes, but finally she's able to get a hold of herself, straightening back to her feet.
The man's moaning hasn't stopped since they've arrived, and it's driving her nearly to madness now. She doesn't think she's ever heard a more mournful sound.
Swallowing thickly, grimacing at the taste of bile mixed with ham and cheese, she nods, forcing herself to turn back around.
"You can stay back." Tim tells her. "I'll… I'll try and get him free myself." He says.
But Julia shakes her head.
"No." She says, wiping at her mouth. "No, it'll go faster if we work together."
He studies her for a moment, and she knows he's trying to figure out if she's okay or not.
Finally, he nods.
"Alright." He says.
They continue on the last, few paces towards the man, determined and terrified.
"You go around that side." Tim tells her. "I'll take the right."
Julia nods, doing as he instructs.
"D-do you think our bolt cutters will be enough to clip these chains?" She asks as they split apart.
But she doesn't ever know if Tim even answers, as her attention is caught up on the sight of the body before her.
From a distance away, in the dark, she couldn't see it, but this close, now, the source of the putrid odor becomes only too obvious, and for a moment, Julia thinks she'll again be sick.
The man's face is… it isn't there. Whatever it had once been, it's burnt away now, lips and nose gone, flesh eaten through, past the muscle and to the bone beneath, teeth pitted and exposed in a rictus, jaw hung loose and open. No tongue. No eyes…
Oh God, oh God, God, how is he still alive?! What did this? What…
"Oh Christ, there's…" she hears Tim then, his voice thick with horror.
She tears her face away from the nightmare of the bound man's face and looks to her boyfriend.
"Wh-what is it? What?" She asks.
She feels her heart hammering harder against her ribcage as she sees tears glistening in Tim's eyes, down his cheeks. He wipes hastily at them, shaking his head.
"There's bones here." He says, staring at the ground on his side of the stone slab. "Human bones."
It's too much, and again, Julia turns, vomiting onto the ground below. Tim doesn't come to her side this time, and again, it's a few minutes before she finds herself able to straighten and turn back.
When she does, she finds Tim staring down at the man, his face drawn tight in a deep and unhappy frown. He shakes his head.
"He's going to die." He says, so flatly it scares Julia a little.
He looks back up at her.
"He's going to die." He repeats.
Julia feels her face crumple.
"We have to try." She says, her voice coming out a sob. "We can't just leave him."
"I know but…" Tim goes on, eyes moving back down to the man. "I'm just warning you. He's not going to make it. I… I don't want you blaming yourself when he dies."
Another, broken sob wrenches itself from her throat, and she nods, wiping harshly at the thick tears now blinding her eyes.
"W-who would do this to someone? Who…" she cries hopelessly.
"I don't know." Tim answers, and his own voice sounds thick and uneven. "Let's just… just focus on getting him loose. Maybe we can make…" he swallows, pausing. "Maybe we can give him some comfort before he…"
Julia knows what he's going to say, and for some reason, an overwhelming despair washes over her. She forces herself to nod anyway.
"O-okay. Alright." She says. "I've got the cutters."
Tim nods back, holding up his own pair.
"We'll start at his ankles and work our way up." He says.
Julia doesn't argue, following his lead.
The bolt cutters aren't made for metal so thick, and it takes a lot more work and a lot more muscle getting through the metal links than it otherwise would. The manacles are beyond their abilities to remove. They're just going to have to stay.
As they make slow and painful progress, Julia begins to take notice of the state the rest of the man's body is in.
It's awful.
He's skeletally thin, his stomach sunken and concave, ribcage showing like a dome, each ridge and dip horrifyingly prominent. His legs and arms are like sticks, without muscle or fat of any kind, the bones there, too, showing pronouncedly and clear. He has no hair, though in the dim light, Julia thinks she can make out tufts of what once might have been red strands, scattered in random and sparse patches across his burnt scalp. He's filthy, covered in dirt so thick, it's black against what is clearly very pale skin underneath, mixed no doubt with the poor man's own waste and blood.
"How… how long do you think he's been here, like this?" She finds herself asking as they finally cut through the link of chain binding his ankles together.
She's never seen Tim's face set in such a grim expression, and he shakes his head as he pulls the link free from the steaks pinning it down.
"I don't know." He says. "A long time. A long time."
"How is he still alive? How…" she starts, and again, he shakes his head.
"I don't know." He says once more.
None of this makes sense.
They make their way steadily but with difficulty through the chains pulled across the man's stomach and chest, all the while, the pitiful keening continuing on. There's no getting used to it. Knowing now what's causing it only makes it worse. As they move up the man's body, Julia sees there are similar burns scouring all across his chest and shoulders in what appears a splatter pattern, muscle and bone showing through. Once more, she finds herself struggling not to be sick.
If the man is at all aware of their presence, he's given absolutely no indication of such. Julia doesn't see how he could be. He must be gone with the pain.
It's as they're moving on to the final set of chains, binding his wrists up above his head, that they hear it, and then see.
There's a low hiss, what sounds almost like a snake, and then a fresh and noxious smell fills their nostrils, something that makes Julia's throat momentarily close up.
And then the glint of something catches her eye, and she turns her face, seeing the drip of some bright yellow liquid falling through the air, from a few feet above their heads. She follows the line of it as it makes its decent, all the way down, only to watch it crash and splatter across the bound man's already burnt away face.
The man seems hardly to react. But Julia knows, whatever's just hit his face, he feels it, as his steady and quiet moaning of before changes into something deeper and, if possible, more anguished. He thrashes weakly, arms and legs, now freed from their chains, moving shallowly about in a pathetic struggle, and Julia once more has to look away, her heart tearing at the sight.
"Oh God, it's… it's acid or…" she hears Tim say, and she turns back, seeing him staring in horror at the man's nonexistent face, where the liquid had fallen. Turning her own gaze there, and she sees and hears the sizzling pop as whatever it is eats away at what little flesh and muscle remains there.
She swallows thickly, the scent of copper filling freshly in the air, making her stomach churn.
"We have to get him out. W-we have to…" she stammers stupidly, too stunned to even understand what it is that's happening.
Tim only nods, beginning again to bring his clippers up and start on the last set of chains.
It's only then Julia thinks to look up towards the source of the liquid, and there she sees it.
"LOOK OUT!" She cries, reaching across the man and batting Tim's hands back.
He startles, glancing towards her.
"What?!" He asks, voice filled with alarm, before following her eyes up.
"Holy fuck!" She hears him curse, and she knows he's seen it.
A giant, black and yellow skinned snake, seemingly embedded in an outcropping of rock overhead, it's eyes glowing an unnatural blue in the heavy dark, it's mouth opened wide, two or three inch long fangs gleaming, thick with venom dripping down and off their ends. Its head is the size of a fucking shovel.
"Wh-what the hell is that thing?" She asks, voice shaking almost uncontrollably.
"A snake." Tim answers bluntly, in just as unsteady a voice.
"D-do we kill it?" She asks.
She thinks she sees Tim shake his head in her periphery.
"I don't want it biting us." He says. "L-let's… let's just get him loose and get away from it."
"Ri-right." She replies dazedly.
They continue on in their task, watching the snake several feet overhead warily and with trepidation.
The thing continues to drip venom from its fangs, onto the bound man's face, and Julia finds herself jumping back each time, her mouth open in a scream which she narrowly manages to suppress. Oh God, if only they could work faster.
It's agonizing, trying to get the poor man loose, knowing how much pain he must be in, each time the venom strikes. But there's nothing they can do better than simply trying to get him loose and away from the damned thing.
It seems to take an eternity, but finally they manage to work through the last of the metal, the link snapping in half.
Tim wastes no time in pulling it free from its stakes and tossing it aside.
"O-Okay. Okay." He says. "H-help me get him up, o-off this rock."
Julia nods.
"Take an arm." Tim goes on. "I'll take the other and we… we'll haul him up. On three, okay?"
Another nod.
The man's forearm and wrist feel like nothing but hard bone beneath her fingers as they pull his arms down, quickly to avoid the still dripping venom.
"One… two… THREE!" Tim says, and they both pull the man up and towards them.
He's heavy. Way heavier than Julia would have thought possible, given his completely wasted away form. She doesn't have more than a moment to contemplate it, however, as she and Tim pull him away from the slab, a broken and wheezing groan escaping the man's lips as he falls forward.
They loose their balance, not anticipating the weight of the man, both of them stumbling backwards as they struggle to hold on.
It's useless, both her and Tim losing their footing and falling hard to the ground, their grip on the man's arms letting go.
He falls face first, a broken heap of long and tangled limbs upon the ground. He doesn't move.
For an instant, Julia's heart hammers painfully in her chest.
"He's dead." She thinks despairingly. "We've killed him. Oh God, oh God…"
His back, she can see now, is a torn apart mess, bloodied and raw from rubbing for who knows how long against that stone slab he was chained to.
Seconds slip by, seeming to stretch into eternity, and with each one gone, Julia is more and more certain that they've killed him, her breath loud in her own ears, tears stinging at her eyes.
And then, abruptly, and without any warning, the man suddenly begins to convulse.
It seems impossible, but Julia thinks, as she and Tim watch on in horror, that what's happening now is possibly the worst yet of all of it.
It's his death throws, she realizes, and she feels her chest tighten, shock taking her whole and rendering her paralyzed, even as she wants desperately to look away.
The man is flailing uncontrollably upon the ground, an awful, agonized moaning splitting the air.
He's dying, oh God, he's dying…
Julia can't stand to see it.
Finally, she forces herself to look away, crawling towards Tim and throwing her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder and sobbing brokenly.
He wraps his own arms around her shoulders, holding her tight, pressing his mouth to her crown.
"It's okay." He tries to tell her. "It's okay."
But nothing's okay. None of this. It's wrong. It's the most horrible thing she's ever seen…
Minutes go by, and the convulsions fail to stop, the awful moaning seeming to grow louder and stronger with each passing second, and Julia hates herself for wishing suddenly that the poor man would just die already. That he would just die and be released from his pain.
It seems to be taking too long, and her thoughts are only confirmed when she hears Tim suck in a sharp breath and hears him say…
"Something's wrong. He's… it shouldn't take this long. He… he should be dead already. He…"
His voice trails off, and at first, Julia thinks nothing of it. Thinks it's just a loss of words at the suffering they're being made to witness.
But then she hears him whisper, his voice strangely distant and filled with… awe?
"What the hell?" He says.
And at last, she lifts her face, staring up at him, too afraid to look at the dying man, and she sees Tim staring off towards him, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock.
"Tim?" She asks, confused, her fear blooming fresh in her chest.
"He's…" Tim starts, then stops, voice soft and disbelieving.
"Tim, what… what is it?" Julia asks again. "What is it? You're scaring me. What is it?"
Slowly, she sees him shake his head no, his gaze still fixed on the man.
"I-is he dead?" She asks, and realizes only a moment later he can't be. She can still hear the man moaning behind her, though more softly now. Barely audible.
"He… he's healing." Tim at last answers, his voice hardly even a whisper.
"What?" Julia asks, not understanding.
Tim swallows visibly, his eyes so wide, skin drained of its usually ruddy color, it looks like he's seen a ghost.
"H-healing. He… he's healing. His skin… his f-face…"
Julia doesn't understand. Doesn't get what he's saying.
"What are you…" she starts.
"Look." He cuts her off, and then he's lifting his hand to her cheek, turning her face away from him, towards the man.
Julia doesn't want to see, doesn't want to look.
Tim doesn't give her a choice.
She turns, and there she sees what it is that has him in such a stupefied trance.
The man, he's… he's curled in on himself, facing them, arms over his head, hands groping at the nape of his neck, and knees pulled to his chest. And he's… his face, it's… it's… there. His face is there, it's… it's growing back. Julia can see it, even in the dim and sparse light of their head torches, she can see it, the muscle and skin… knitting back together, slowly and agonizingly. But there, nonetheless. Features are beginning to come into shape. A nose and lips and… and eyes, and oh Jesus Christ, it's horrible, but it's happening. Where before his jaw hung loose and without support, it's now coming together in a strong shape. And with the forming of features, comes expression, and Julia sees the man's eyes clamped tight shut, his face screwed up in so much obvious pain.
And hair, there's… Julia had been right. Hair is coming in with a bizarre rapidity, thick, red locks of it, almost, it appears, a burnt orange or the color of deep flame. It's hard to tell in the darkness. Ringlets falling over forming ears. It only vaguely registers to her that the tips of those ears are pointed, like some elf. All the rest of it is so beyond comprehension, it hardly matters.
As the features come more fully into realization, Julia entranced and unable to pull her eyes away, even with his face wound up in the tension of pain, she can see indeed he is a very handsome man.
His nose, as it forms, is long and pronounced and straight. Cheekbones high and fine, face thin and defined, jaw strong and perfectly in width for the rest, lips thin and long.
His skin she begins to see is as pale as she'd suspected it. Pale beyond any sort she's ever seen. Like fresh driven snow. She's only marginally aware of the absurdity of such a description, because as the moment stretches, and his face comes so completely into view, she's struck almost dumb by the awful youth of it.
He looks no more than 19, 20 years old at the most.
And very suddenly she's again overcome by emotion, her eyes burning with fresh tears, spilling down her cheeks.
He's a boy. Oh God, he's just a child.
She watches, mesmerized and horrified, Tim as still and silent at her side.
And then the man's… the… the boy's eyes come open, and for a brief flash, Julia sees the most verdant shade of green she thinks she's ever beheld, bright and glowing as the lamps on their heads, cutting through the dark.
For only a flash, and then he's turning away, turning his face from them, and the boy screams.
