Chapter 8: Flesh of a Nightmare
They'll never find me here… it's perfect! Siena thought to herself, hiding behind an urn. All around her were dim shadows and soft candlelight, as they cast their glow upon the stone walls and dirt floors of the crypt. Even torches could not pierce the gloom. The young dunmer's skin was still that dark gray shade of youth, and would not brighten to a blue-gray tinge until she was of age, so she blended in perfectly. That and her small frame hid behind the urn easily.
Minutes passed, and then more minutes passed, and still they had not come for her. I can't be hiding THAT well… where are they? Siena wondered, and crept out from behind the urn. No one was around.
Getting to her feet cautiously, she moved towards the door. "Helrin? Mincy?" She could hear creaking on the other side, and a rushing of air soft as a breeze. Frowning, she opened the door just a crack.
On the other side of the door stood a skeleton, air rushing between the gleaming teeth in soft whispers. Its shoulders rose and fell in a futile attempt to mimic the breathing it had performed in life, the ribcage expanding and contracting. Hollow eye sockets looked through the crack in the door at Siena, and her breath caught in her throat. Somehow, it was looking at her without eyes. She barely understood what she was looking at, but her gut told her it was unnatural and evil.
The skeleton stepped towards the door, that one motion causing its leather-fastened bones to creak loudly. The movement also revealed the glint of a steel axe in the torchlight. It was going to kill her!
Siena slammed the door shut, forgoing stealth. Now she WANTED to be found –by someone, anyone, just to save her from that thing! The young Dunmer ran through the burial room, reaching the other door and jerking it open before rushing through into the hall beyond. She came to a halt and looked to her left and right. Which way was it to get out? She had come in through the door the skeleton was now smashing with the axe. She'd have to find another way. Right was in the general direction of where she had come from, so maybe it would get her out.
Decision made, she bolted down the hallway, the air currents of her fast movement causing the torches on the wall to flicker and almost die. It only served to further her fear. She continued running, not looking back to see if the skeletal monster followed.
Without even thinking, she ran down the steps and further down the hall. Only when she came to a dead end with three doors did she realize where she had gone. Down, and not up. Deeper in, and not out.
One of these doors has to lead out! It has to! Her thoughts were frantic now, any logic she might have had at her young age being lost to fear and the need to survive. She grabbed the door to her right and flung it open.
It led into an empty chamber, with an ash pit before the wall and bones within the ash. She shut the door as quickly as she had opened it, and whirled around to face the left door, opening it as well.
While a similar chamber, this room contained something. A man, in dark clothes that looked almost like exquisitely flared thin leather armor, was crouched on the ground, holding his head in his hands and sobbing. Siena froze in place, curiosity wrestling with her fear and leaving her indecisive. Was he lost, like her? Was he scared, like her? Siena took a step forward, warily testing her grounds.
"I won't go back." The man muttered, and Siena felt a distinct wave of déjà vu wash over her. She had heard that before; that voice, those words. Something about them instilled fear in her heart. "I won't go back!" Siena took a step back, clasping her hands in front of her chest.
Unexpectedly she felt cool metal on her hands, and two rounded, firm mounds on either side of her hands too. Then she looked at herself.
She was no longer the dark little dunmer, but a full-grown blue-gray mer in a chainmail cuirass. "You can't make me go back!" The man screamed, and Siena looked up, childish fear still in her eyes as she recognized the man and his words. The man had fallen silent now, and was raising his head to look at Siena, wildness in his eyes and an iron dagger in his hand.
"I'll kill you all!" The man lunged forward, but Siena was quicker, slamming the door and throwing her back on it. There was a loud thud and then silence. Until there was creaking.
Siena wasted no time in opening the third door, stepping through the threshold, and slamming it shut. But she wasn't in a tomb in Vvardenfell anymore. She was standing before a structure akin to an Imperial marble wall, with two massive arches leading to doors shrouded in darkness. A bust of a man stood between the arches. And before the stairwell leading up to those arches were two figures.
One was a giant mangled mess of yellowed flesh and red muscle, clad in iron shackles and missing one arm, which was replaced by a massive iron-cast sword. No eyes looked towards her, but she knew the direction of that stare.
The other was a Dunmeri woman in a royally adorned black dress that flared around her in a dome style, and was lined with gold. Blood red hair was done up in a tight bun that topped her sneering face, as she held a hand scythe before her.
The large flesh-construct strode forward, moving with deadly intent towards her. Freaking out, Siena sharply turned to the door and tried to open it, only to find it locked. She screamed as she turned around to watch the horrific thing come even closer with another step.
"There's one sure way to stop a tongue from flapping. Cut it out…" said the woman, as she tapped the flat of the scythe blade on the palm of her hand. The massive creature of roughly assembled flesh raised its right arm as if the sorceress' words had been an order. Siena continued to scream as the large iron blade came down.
"Its bones are calling to me."
Siena was denied the satisfaction of actually dying as she was ripped from her nightmare, eyes popping open and springing into a sitting position in the bed.
Well, almost a sitting position. She ended up bumping into Jayred, who had been leaning over her. Her head fell almost naturally into the crook of his neck and she wrapped her arms around him instinctively as she began to cry. She needed someone to hold, someone to hold her, as she recovered from that horrid dream. Jayred seemed caught off guard by her actions, and hesitantly held the topless elf in his thick-furred arms.
"We have to kill the Gatekeeper." Jayred whispered, as if it was the only thing on his mind. Unless he was referring to her dream, but how would he know the Gatekeeper nearly killed her within her own nightmare? Siena nodded, biting her lip and pulling away from Jayred to look at the Nord.
"Alright, we'll do it." She told him, though she looked reluctant to say so. The Nord nodded and rose from the bed. He was behaving with such normalcy and informality, as if he did not even notice that Siena's small bosom was covered by merely a bra. Was he being chivalrous, or had insanity wiped away that part of his mind?
Regardless, Siena WAS embarrassed to be in such a state of undress before the husky Nord. She plucked the chainmail cuirass from the floor, slipping it over her body and finding comfort in the familiar cool feeling of the metal on her skin. The dresser was blurry from her position on the bed, but she walked over to it anyways. It got sharper as she approached, and now she could see her shaded glasses laying there. She slipped them on, the world becoming clearer in an instant. The dagger and furred boots were the final pieces of her current wardrobe, and then she headed downstairs to see Jayred again.
"You open the gate, I'll kill things." Jayred told her, and Siena smiled softly, reflexively reaching for her boots and the lockpicks hidden within. She was startled to feel only the fur lining of her new boots, before memory returned to her. She had lost everything in the crash. Her lockpicks were gone.
"I don't have any lockpicks." She muttered with mixed emotion. It meant they could not get in the Gardens of Flesh and Bone to get arrows to kill the Gatekeeper. But, it also meant they could not get into the Gardens of Flesh and Bone.
"Here. Take this lockpick." Jayred handed her one, which she reluctantly took from him. Perhaps her reluctance was the reason her hand remained holding his and the lockpick for more than a minute before Jayred released it. "Careful, though; it's my only one." He told her, and then moved towards the door.
"The sun rises soon. We must hurry." He told her as he opened the door. Siena nodded, but remained standing in the entryway for a short time, holding that lockpick to her chest; trying to find the courage to follow.
Finally, when Jayred was a yard or so from the door and still walking, she closed her eyes, inhaled, and dashed out of the house into the early morning air, the chill biting into her arms and torso. But the fur boots kept her feet warm, at least.
Author's Note: To any who were confused by the nightmare opening sequence, and got lost, that was my intention. It was meant to be portrayed and understood from Siena's view, and there will be several more instances throughout the story where reality and Siena's reality mix intentionally. If, however, you have any advice on how to manage such a 'Death of a Salesman'-esque style, I will love to hear it.