Sonic Hill 2: DX

Chapter 20: The Labyrinth

------

Deeper into the darkness of the Abyss, the young soul fell. Deeper and deeper and deeper…

His head rung like an alarm clock when the everlasting pain awoke him from his sixth drift into unconsciousness. For the first five or six seconds he thought that that ringing had just continued on, but as the time passed by he realized that it wasn't just in his head anymore.

Sirens screamed in the distance.

Light dimly shined upon his body. He looked up to see there was another room ahead, which had some very yellow lights attached to some of the walls. It must have been a bathroom or something once – there was a sink sticking out of the far wall, along with a mirror Miles could see his own aged reflection in. But if it had once been, it was no more – the floor of the room was missing, and so was the ceiling. Only darkness could be seen both from above and below. Dazed and aching, the fox climbed to his feet, stepping up to the open doorway and staring down at the pit below. No one needed to tell him what to do next, and no one could, but he knew.

Closing his eyes again, Miles let go of the doorway he was using to support himself and fell forward, feeling that amazing gust of wind shoot through his fur as he descended deeper still into The Abyss.

---Later…---

'Sonikku…'

Miles eyes unshielded themselves, and he slowly got up, feeling dizzy from the fall. It didn't seem possible for him to survive all of these seemingly endless holes, but he did regardless. The sirens screeching had stopped, and in this place there was only that usual nerve-wracking silence.

Attentively he regained his senses and brightened the beam of the flashlight, which had shut itself off somewhere along the way. Just another dark corridor, except there were no doors in this one and the ground wasn't made out of cement – instead it was just dirt. In the end of the corridor were two large gated metal doors, looking electronic but still old, like something from the early 1900s. A few steps closer and he figured out that it was a large elevator.

'All this way, and there's still an area below this…' he thought, grasping onto the very tiny line of empty space between the two doors and pulling them open with his fingers. Once he successfully did that, he accessed the elevator and stepped in. There were no buttons to indicate what floor he was on or what floor he could go to. Instead, right when he entered, the doors sealed closed behind him and the lift began to descend, sliding down a very very long shaft to its only and final destination.

Three long minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, a new defoliated area presented itself to the ashen fox from behind the gated doors. Seconds after it came into view, the lift stopped. It had reached the bottom floor. Grating slid out of its carrier's vision, fully showing the small clearing that looked pretty similar to the one he'd entered the elevator in a thousand feet above.

'Here I go…' Taking in another deep breath—which seemed to get harder and harder as he progressed on, since the air became thinner and thinner the deeper he went—Miles grasped the handgun in his right palm tightly and walked to the double doors on the opposite end of the room. They were extremely heavy and hard to open, but he managed to get through. The passageway on the other side brought hopelessness flying back into his tornado of emotions.

Stonewalls replaced the cement walls of above, looking even darker and more intimidating than in any other location he'd been in so far. The passage led both directions, to his left and to his right, and from what he could see from here they also led left and right at the end of them too. An eerie thought came up in his mind, but he pushed it aside right away, just hoping for the best.

His body almost felt some sort of mental weight on his right arm, telling him to go right, but something about that he didn't like. Right seemed too confident of a direction to go in, but left felt more…he couldn't quite place it. He didn't know how to explain it, and wasn't sure if it was a real serious thought or just childish imaginings, but something told him to go left. So, he went down the left side, stopping where it ended and branched off in two directions like he thought it did. Taking a chance, he turned left again and walked down that end of the corridor, stopping at the turn and looking to see the path end with a wall.

'…goddamnit.' Just what he feared: he was in a labyrinth.

When he was a young pup he'd gotten lost in one of those ridiculously large hedge mazes. It was right outside the foster home he'd lived in, and many of the older kids enjoyed running around that maze of green. One day he was tired of seeing them act all egotistic about how cool they were for making it through the maze, and he tried entering it himself. Two and a half hours later, one of the grown-ups had found him sitting in a corner crying like a baby for being lost. It wasn't a pretty site, and the jokes and pranks pulled on him at that place since didn't make it any better.

That maze's layout seemed very trivial in the present day. Now he was a full-grown adult, and stuck a mile or two underground in an extremely dark stone labyrinth that's probably infested with scary monsters, not to mention he had no idea how big the whole place was. Yeah, the hedge maze before was just 'training'.

'Wait a minute…'

He pulled out the Toluca Prison map, which he had not yet discarded like the apartment map and hospital map. He doubted he'd need to go back there—doubted he could go back there—but the piece of paper might be useful. He reached into his carrying bag and dug around, brushing his hands through the various ammo and other things he'd collected on the journey, until his fingers found the red marker. He pulled the marker out and turned the Toluca Prison map around, drawing at the bottom a long thin rectangle and connecting the left end of it to another one. If he drew out a rough map of the labyrinth and kept track of where he was going, maybe he wouldn't be as likely to get hopelessly lost.

And so, Miles's trek through the labyrinth began.

---Later…---

Ten minutes had passed by too slowly for his pleasure, and he still didn't know where the hell he was going. Some of the corridors spiraled around themselves till they reached a dead end. Some spiraled around themselves and had an exit to another corridor in the process. Some just made a right or left turn into a dead end. And some branched off into corridors that branched off into corridors that all had dead ends in them. It was insane, and the two-tailed fox was already sick and tired of it.

The corridor he stood in now was shaped like a T; its dark walls branched off in two different directions at the end. Miles had no idea which way to go, but from the looks of it on his map this corridor was at least farther away from the others, possibly meaning it might be the right direction. If it was or wasn't, he'd find out soon enough.

His still damp shoes clopped against the concrete floor, stepping onto grounds that were invisible to his eyes a moment earlier. Stopping, he pulled out the map to check on it again, but his footsteps didn't seem to stop with him. In fact, they seemed to go on a half a second longer after he ceased to move his legs. Their echo came from around the right end of the T, and Miles quickly pulled the handgun back out of his side pack and pointed it down the hall cautiously.

Silence.

He took a step forward, then another, and then stopped. He heard that extra footstep again.

'Someone's in here…'

Handgun being held parallel to his orange and white furred head, Miles slowly took a step—a step which was as stealthy as he could make it—closer to the corner, now only a few feet away from the turn. That silent step was not followed by an extra one, which made him feel unsure of his theory of who or what might be just around the corner.

And then, he ducked, just barely missing the gigantic rusty knife as it was swung from around the corner and embedded itself into the stonewalls, sending chunks of rock flying everywhere. Less than a second later, Miles was diving through the air, moving quickly enough to evade as Pyramid Head dragged the metal knife down to the floor the fox was crouched on a moment earlier, swung it across the ground, and dragged it up and back to the wall in an extremely fast circular motion.

The walls seemed to almost scream in agony as they shared a taste of the pain Miles would have felt if he hadn't avoided the attack, and would feel soon if he didn't get away fast. Pyramid Head's hulking body spun around, about to try and swing the knife at the fox again. But it was as if its arm finally gave in to the weight again for the time being—probably because it had lost its momentum—and the heavy weapon dropped to the floor, causing the monster to grab for it with its other hand and try to lift it back up again.

Miles got up quickly, and was about to run down the left hall until he thought about the fact that the monster had come down the right hall, meaning there must be an exit or something that way. Breaking into a sprint, Miles ran down the corridor—hearing the swing of the great knife behind him miss his flesh by probably only a foot or two.

For a moment, Miles thought he was fucked either way, because he remembered how fast Pyramid Head could actually run – the monster had far passed proved itself in the hospital corridor. Terrified, Miles looked behind him and was surprised to see that it wasn't charging after him. Instead, it limped towards him, dragging the heavy blade behind like an overweighed anchor. Maybe it was too tired or something to run now—

'—but it's still moving and as long as it is, you're not safe.' His mind stated. 'Get the fuck out of here!'

There was a left turn at the end of the corridor, which Miles took and continued to run for his life until he reached another T shaped hall. The sound of Pyramid Head's giant knife dragging across the floor not too far could still be heard, and Miles knew if he ran into a dead end he'd be screwed. And with his luck in the labyrinth so far, his near future seemed pretty bleak.

'Not that it doesn't seem bleak in the first place.' He thought pessimistically, right before he began to sprint down the right hall, hoping for the best. His luck seemed to drain pretty quickly; because two short turns later he reached a dead end. 'Shit!'

That insane scraping of metal against concrete was heard, and he backtracked as fast as he could, hoping Pyramid Head hadn't gotten to the fork yet. He knew he'd never be able to get past the monster in one piece. Luckily, that great knife Pyramid Head had proved to be its downfall at that moment, because it still hadn't reached the end of the T yet. Running as fast as his legs could carry him, Miles zoomed past the T—seeing the loathsome but formidable monster only a few yards away in the process—and ran down the left passage.

Left, left, right, left, and he was at a four-way intersection. He continued running forward down it, hearing the sounds of Pyramid Head's knife fading away as he got farther and farther from the monster. At the end of the long stretch of a passage way was a steel door, which the fox quickly ran through and slammed behind him.

"Phew…" he put his hand to on his rapidly pounding chest and tried to catch his breath. He had been really lucky – if he'd taken another wrong turn somewhere along the way he was as good as dead. Pyramid Head was still relatively close by, but the steel door being between him and it made it seem much farther, which he didn't mind at all. Hopefully the metal helmeted monster didn't know the layout of this maze very well either.

Just because he had escaped that monster though did not mean he was completely safe – a mannequin and a straightjacket monster were within the passage, already stumbling through the shadows towards him. Seven handgun bullets later, they were both no more.

Miles continued aimlessly wandering around the creepy old place, either running into a dead end or going around circles the entire time.

'I wonder who made this place…' he thought. 'And more importantly: why? It's not like there'd be any use for it…'

Static burst from the radio, and Miles whirred around to see a straightjacket coming from around a corner behind him. Lowering his handgun, he turned and began to jog farther down the hall. He didn't have time or ammo to waste bullets on something he could easily run from.

The passage he was in right now ended at a wall, but there was a right turn near the end, which he took and stopped at. Putting his back to the wall, he pulled the labyrinth map out again and drew what the area he was in looked like, drawing a dotted line through the middle of it to signify he'd been that way already. Even though he drew the passages as thin lines, the left side of the paper was beginning to get too full, and he hoped there weren't many more left turns or he might not be able to draw the whole map as one piece anymore.

To his fortune, there were no more left turns in this part of the labyrinth. Instead, at the dead end in this corridor, there was a small trap door. The handle was still in once piece unlike the one in the prison, so he had no trouble opening it and shining the light into the room below.

Water covered the floor of the passage below, about ankle-deep. Miles let out a frustrated groan and climbed down the ladder. His sneakers were finally beginning to dry too, now only slightly damp. Their effort to become dry again had failed as the tired fox dipped his aching feet into the cold water, letting go of the ladder and scanning the place.

He couldn't see very far into the corridor – somehow it was even darker than the area above—but as far as he could see there were no doors or anything. He sloshed through the liquid, feeling the ice-cold water sting his legs and feet as they seeped through his sneakers. Being a fox, his canine fur didn't seem to fare too well in the liquid, starting to become unpleasantly smelly. That was the least of his worries at the moment though, because the sound of something else stepping through the water could be heard.

His large bright orange-yellow ears perked up, and he put his back to the left wall right away, slowly moving towards where the sound was coming from. He was trying to be stealthy, but was failing miserably – his feet moving across the water made a noise past loud enough for whomever else was in the room to hear.

The radio wasn't going off. So that meant it must be either Eggman or…Pyramid Head again. But it couldn't be the later; he'd already passed Pyramid Head not too long ago…

Or so he thought.

Pyramid Head came around the corner, its black boots traveling across the ankle-deep sea, moving closer to Miles Prower's flashlight. If it couldn't see him or hear him yet, the bright light made it obvious enough he was there.

'No! That doesn't make any sense, how could he have gotten here before me!?'

Possibly there really was another entrance into the room, and if there was then his theory that Pyramid Head might know the place well was true. The monster pulled the knife it was dragging behind it up into the air, the tip of the five-foot blade almost about to hit the fox if it was much closer. Breathing rapidly again on instinct, Miles turned and tried to run, but before he even got more than three feet he tripped and fell on his face, completely drenching himself in the dark water. Sticking his head out at lightning speed, he began to crawl away, panicked and trying to get back to his feet before Pyramid Head brought the sharp weapon down on his body. He moved just in time; the tip of the blade dug into the water only a foot behind him before he was able to break into a splashing almost uncontrollable run. He almost tripped again, but used his right hand to level himself.

Although he was practically tripping over himself, Miles was still moving faster than the monster trailing behind him. Pyramid Head disappeared around the corner quickly enough as Miles turned at the curve, his fur matted and sticking together as he splashed through the place. If he can't hide from it, he could at least run. He was proven wrong in that idea soon enough when he turned another curve and stopped, his eyes widening in terror.

Pyramid Head was right in front of him now, its wet and dirty gray cloth clinging to it's human-like body.

'How'd he—' Miles figured it out right away, once he rethought the way he'd just ran through the place. It seemed that the corridor he was in was shaped like an octagon, circling around and around the room in the middle forever. All Pyramid Head had to do to catch up to him was turn around and walk a few yards.

While he was thinking this, he didn't even notice his antagonist was only a few yards away already. That realization hit him just in time too, and he did a complete turn and began running again, kicking up water everywhere along the way. When he got back to the turn he just went around, he stopped and remembered something.

'—the hunting rifle!'

Pyramid Head seemed almost immune to handgun bullets, as it had proved much earlier on way back in the apartments, but Miles doubted the beast was so strong it could withstand shots from the powerful rifle. He'd almost forgotten he grabbed it back in the prison, and it was still strapped around his back next to the empty shotgun. He grasped onto it and pulled it into his arms, shouldering it and taking aim. Pyramid Head stood only a few feet away, not even seeming to react to the fact that it had a gun being aimed at it, so it was nearly impossible to miss.

"This is for Shadow, you fucking bastard!!" he screamed. Clenching his eyes shut, Miles squeezed the trigger.

What followed was a parade of noises.

The rifle made an amazingly loud sound, surpassing the roar of even the shotgun. The recoil sent that familiar feeling jolting through the fox's arm, causing him to grunt out in slight pain. The rifles shell zoomed across the distance between the fox and the monster in less than a millisecond, immediately diving itself into Pyramid Head's rusty red helmet in a suicidal fashion. Instead of piercing the metal though, the shell bounced off its surface like a pinball, ricocheting into the left wall and bouncing back off of it into the right. Insanely the freed shell flew left and right again, constantly bouncing off the walls until it shot up into the walling above—almost touching the ceiling—and bounced back off of that into the in the water on the floor, creating a small but loud splash.

The shell's mad journey could not be seen by Miles's naked eye, but the sounds and remains of what was there could. Pyramid Head stepped back a bit in reaction to the shell hitting it's isosceles-shaped triangle helmet, only to shake it's head like it had a slight headache and continue moving forward.

'Jesus Christ, how strong is that thing!?' he wondered, his eyes slightly tweaking out from the shock of what had just happened. Before the monster could take another step forward he aimed the rifle again and fired.

Doing this was not the brightest idea, for all it did was waste the shell and almost get him killed. The shell had the same effect as last time, except now it shot past him—missing him by mere inches—and embedded itself in the stonewall before it stopped ricocheting.

'Shiiit…okay, don't do that again.' he told himself, feeling stupid for even thinking that it would work if he tried a second time.

Pyramid Head still came closer, dangerously close now. The fox took a step back, feeling almost scared stiff as the monster began to pick up its giant knife again. Before it could fully pick the weapon up though, Miles aimed down a bit at its unshielded leg and fired. The effect it gave off was better than the one he'd gotten for shooting it in the head, but not by much. Pyramid Head only seemed to be stalled for a second, shrugging the bullet off like it was just an annoying itch. A little blood squirted out of the flesh and into the water, but only a little.

Miles got the picture and turned around again, running back the direction he came in. He only circled around the room again till he was only a few yards behind where Pyramid Head had run into him a minute ago.

He heard the monster slowly walking back around the corner not too far in front of him, guessing it was in no hurry because unless he managed to climb back up that ladder—which was now already behind him—in time, he was as good as dead.

But it seemed someone was watching over him, even all the way down underground, that moment. Miles spotted two double doors on the inner perimeter of the room, which he guessed must have been how Pyramid Head entered it in the first place. A few short steps led up to it, probably so it wouldn't be flooded when the doors opened. He grasped onto the handles of the doors, praying they wouldn't be locked or something, and was relieved that they actually did open. Running into the room, he slammed the doors behind him and put his back to it.

'Only a minute or two before it figures out I'm in here.' he thought. Finally, he looked up and let out a small shriek of disgusted horror.

No wonder Pyramid Head knew the way around – it must have lived here. The small room was coated in layers of blood, consisting of nothing but a very stained bed, a few tables, and eight or nine cages hanging on the ceiling that were similar to the ones in the painting. Within six of them were mutilated bodies, two of which were dead mannequins, and a third of which was a lacerated straightjacket monster, while the other three looked like the body of a human and two furries. There was also a light overhead; tinted dark red and making the whole room look even bloodier than it actually was.

'Oh god…' he thought, covering his mouth. If his stomach wasn't empty, he just might have vomited again. 'Is this its bedroom…?'

On the far wall were a few other cages too—well, he wasn't really sure if they could fully be considered cages. While they had a perimeter like a cage, there was no metal barring covering it, probably because whoever was within it would be dead by the time they were stored there. Miles didn't know why the monster had interests in keeping mutilated bodies in its room, and he didn't want to know any more about the matter than he had to.

He didn't have to stay there long, thankfully. The flooring in the middle of the room was made of metal grating, but rather than having a bottomless pit underneath them there was what looked like another corridor for the labyrinth. In the middle of the metal grating was a gated trapdoor, which had a ladder underneath it.

'I gotta get out of here…'

But it didn't look like he would be anytime soon.

Running up the gated trap door, Miles pulled it open and began to climb the ladder down even deeper into the labyrinth.