Dean turned the corner into an area that was, blessedly, free of green. The walls surrounding him were stone and it was a dead end, other than for the fact that there were two wooden doors on two of the adjacent walls. Each door had an ugly-ass, goblin-like, metal face as a knocker that would probably be worth a fortune. The left had the ring that was rapped against the door going through its ears and the right had it hanging from its mouth. With all the years and dodgy décor that Dean had seen, he'd never come across anything quite so horrible. Well, other than that motel in Arkansas. He shuddered at the memory. He'd never quite gotten over that.
"It's very rude to stare!" the left knocker suddenly yelled.
Dean smirked. Talking knockers. You had to love this world, when it wasn't trying to kill you. "Awesome."
"What?" the left knocker said harshly.
"Is no gd akng hm, hs df asa pst," the right interjected, the ring moving up and down as it spoke.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," the left replied, glaring over at the other knocker.
"I'm nt tlkg wth myh mth fll!"
Dean yanked the ring out of the knocker's mouth, and it smacked its lips, making almost orgasmic sounds that were more than a tad disturbing. "Oh, it's so good to get that thing out!"
Dean snorted. He so wasn't going there.
"I said, it's no good talking to him he's as deaf as a post," the ringless knocker repeated.
"Mumble, mumble, mumble. You're a wonderful conversational companion," the other knocker bitched.
"All you do is moan!"
"No good. Can't hear you." The deaf knocker looked away, a stubborn expression on its face as the other knocker rolled its eyes.
"So, what's behind doors number one and two?" Dean asked.
"What?" the deaf knocker said.
The ringless knocker wheezed a laugh. "Search me. We're just the knockers. Knock, and the door will open."
Dean shrugged and tried to stuff the ring back in the knocker's mouth. It pursed its lips together and made an emphatic noise.
"Doesn't want his ring back in his mouth, eh? Can't say I blame him."
When forcing the ring past its lips didn't work, Dean pinched the knocker's nostrils shut.
"Sorry," he said unapologetically as the being gasped for air with its lips closed, before opening its mouth in a large gasp for air. Dean immediately jammed the ring back in its mouth. There was some murmured mumbles that sounded rather like swearing, before it grumpily replied, "Thts ll rht, Im usd to it."
Dean solidly banged the metal ring against the wall, and the door opened. There was a roar behind it and a flash of reddish-orange light. A black scaly claw attached to a black, scaly hound from hell with orange eyes lashed out towards him, and he quickly slammed the door.
"Woah!" he exclaimed as the claw scrabbled around his side of the door, preventing it from being fully closed. He leant with his back against the door, applying his full weight, and bent down to grab his knife. There was an indignant cry from beside him as the clawed hand found the knocker's face and tried to remove it from the door. With a slash of his knife the hand disappeared back around the door, the creature howling in pain. Dean quickly pushed the door shut and rested against it for a minute. "Not door number two, then."
Satisfied that his heart rate had dropped to an acceptable level again, he pushed off the door and walked over to the other. He knocked hard on entrance number one, and it creaked open. There was no creature ready to attack him this time and what he could see appeared rather like a slightly dryer version of Dagobah. "There better be no frigging Yoda here," he murmured, walking slowly inside. It shut behind him and he automatically glanced back.
There was barely any sunlight; a mist and the gnarled trees that spread their sick-looking leaves over large areas of the sky blocked most of it out. He shivered slightly as he looked at a large cobweb, and blamed it on the lack of sun. His damp jeans and t-shirt were cold against his skin.
There was a path that led down through the trees, so he followed it. He could hear insects chirping all around, which was a comfort. When it got silent and still was usually when you really worried. The trunks of the trees were bloated and grotesque, the shining fungi growing on them adding to their menace.
"Menacing trees, that's a new one."
The noise of the insects suddenly stopped and he froze, raising the knife defensively to his waist. He slowly pivoted, looking for any movement, anything out of the ordinary, but there was nothing. The trees were still and there was nothing visible on the path or in the underbrush off it. The silence continued as he stood still for a few more seconds, waiting to see whether anything would happen. He eventually started picking his way forward on the path again, scanning the area as he walked, the knife at the ready. Something wasn't right; he could feel it in every inch of his body.
Dean clambered down a slope, dodging the roots that were as thick as tree trunks from one of the freaky-ass trees. There was a sudden clicking noise off to his left, like two wooden sticks had been hit against each other, and he stumbled. He turned in that direction, seeing nothing but swaying branches that shouldn't be swaying in the non-existent breeze. He started to move forward again, each footstep cautious, and then the clicking was repeated to the right, and in front and behind him. He turned and turned, but all he could see was moving foliage, nothing behind or in front of it.
"Son of a bitch," he murmured. Whatever they were, it sounded like they had him surrounded.
He slowly turned in place, feeling that an attack was imminent. A creature jumped out of nowhere in front of him, yelling at the top of its voice, its red eyes whirling with madness. He reacted immediately, thrusting his knife forward into its stomach, but it danced sideways out of harm's way, its claws out in front of it, taunting him. With its red fur, snout and long ears it looked like someone had crossed Elmo with the werewolf out of fairy tales, leaning more towards the scariness of the wolf rather than the psychotic little fuzzball with a blanket fetish. Elmo was on his hit list, just below the fabric softener bear. This would be a practice run for hunting the little bitch down.
He thrust forward again and it moved backwards, laughing. Something tapped him on the shoulder and he twisted around to find another right in his face, gibbering maniacally at him. There was fire dancing in its eyes and it held up a long claw, producing a ball of flames on the end of it.
"Oh, shit." He backed up and dodged to the side as it threw the fire at him. The fire skimmed his arm and he jerked away, feeling the heat of the burn. The pain took a few seconds to sink in. The only positive was that it wasn't his good arm. His back hit a warm body and he whirled around, his knife slicing at the creature's head height. The body and head hit the ground seconds apart and he backed away at the fury he saw in the other three creatures' eyes.
There was a clicking noise and the body on the ground started inching itself towards its head.
"Just what I needed, detachable heads," Dean yelled, as he turned and ran.
He ran as fast as he could, occasionally slowing slightly to check whether they were still following him. They loped along on all four paws, drool hanging from their jaws, never very far behind. He had a feeling they were herding him in a particular direction, and found his suspicions confirmed as he barely avoided hitting a stone wall. There were large boulders around, hemming him in on three sides. The creatures stopped in front of him and spread out to block any escape routes, growling deep in their throats.
Dean crouched slightly, ready to dodge at a moment's notice. If he had the time to climb one of the boulders, he might be able to get high enough to be able to scale the wall and get back in the main parts of the Labyrinth without getting fried. The fire in the creatures' eyes grew higher, and one rested back on its back legs and held one of its claws up. The puff of flame that balanced on the end of its finger was bigger than what had been thrown at him before. If that hit, it was going to hurt.
He watched the creature's body language, waiting for the tell that would telegraph where and when it would try to incinerate him. He was moving before the ball left its hand, running in the opposite direction and clambering up the rough rocks that surrounded him, skinning his hands in the process. One of the creatures jumped up and grabbed hold of his ankle, its long claws digging in painfully. He kicked back and it dropped off, taking more flesh that Dean kinda needed, with it. The ball of flame had exploded against one of the other rocks, blackening it considerably and making Dean very glad he hadn't been standing there.
He crawled forward on the rock shelf, put the knife back inside his boot, and started climbing the wall. It was difficult with a very painful arm, stinging palms and a throbbing ankle, but there were enough protrusions that it only took a minute to make it to the top. He looked back down; two of the creatures had already disappeared, leaving just one for him to give the finger to. Sighing in relief, he slid down the wall and sat. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and then looked up, feeling like he was being watched.
"Holy crap." He scrambled to his feet and pulled out the knife, holding it defensively in front of him. An oversized orang-utan with giant floppy ears and sharp, curved horns stood in front of him, crooning softly, its face mournful. It made no move towards him, just shifted slightly in position and sighed more. Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to remember the movie. "Cluedo?" he said cautiously.
"Luuddoo," the creature rumbled, moving a little closer to him.
"Ludo," Dean repeated, lowering his knife, but staying alert. "Ludo, did you know Sarah?"
Ludo's jaw drooped. "Saawahh fwieeend," he said sadly, turning around to lumber away and brushing Dean with his thick tail in the process. Dean stood for a few seconds before hurrying to stand in front of Ludo, stopping him in his tracks.
"Ludo, what happened to Sarah?" Dean asked. He had a bad feeling about this.
"Saawahh," Ludo moaned, tears rolling down his face.
"Oh, boy," Dean said, turning away and agitatedly rubbing the back of his head in thought. This really was not good. "Sarah never made it out of the Labyrinth, did she?" He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Jim fucking Henson. God, none of it's true, all just…" He flapped his hands around wildly, words failing him. "She never saved her brother, she never got through in time. Damnit all to hell."
Dean turned back to face Ludo.
"Sawaahh," Ludo started again, his back partially turned to Dean as he hunched over in misery.
Dean ran his hand through his hair one more time, before moving over to Ludo and reaching up to gingerly pat his shoulder. "Uh, it's okay, big guy. Dean, that's me, Dean's your friend, too." He really hoped that the big hairy thing bought his friendship. Knowing Henson's track record so far, Ludo might have been what killed the girl.
Ludo looked up, his eyes hopeful. "Deeeann fwieennd?"
"Dean friend," Dean repeated. "I don't suppose you know how to get to the centre of the Labyrinth so that I can find my brother and kill Jareth, do you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Didn't think so."
Ludo bared his teeth and Dean stepped back, raising the knife again. He was getting really sick of this place.
"Kiiiilll Jaweettthh." There was a growl to Ludo's voice that indicated that rending and tearing Jareth apart would likely be in his future. "Luudoo and Deeann fwieeends."
"Okaaay, then," Dean replied. "Guess he makes friends everywhere, huh? Real nice guy. Right. Let's go get the son of a bitch."
"Kiiiilll Jaweettthh," Ludo approved as he started lumbering forward.
"Amen to that," Dean agreed, limping along beside Ludo. And then, of course, the ground dropped out from under his feet again. He was starting to get really sick of that.
Sam looked into the mirror, eyes widening in horror. This could not be happening to him. It couldn't. Denial wasn't just a river in Egypt. Sam had had a lot of practice plumbing its foamy depth.
"Do you like it, Sam?" asked Jareth, voice dancing with delight. Sam's mouth opened and shut again with a snap as he went back to staring at his reflection.
Yeah, this so wasn't happening.
TBC…
