Fall of the Lost City

I entered this into a Land of the Lost essay contest many, many years ago. I didn’t win. Maybe too adult of a take. Life goes on.

Fall of the Lost City

The knife tip skidded across the thick belly scale and into the soft tissue that ran between the plates of the beast’s abdomen. Will thrust his hand against the butt of the handle of the knife and drove the blade forward with all his strength and a primal scream that echoed throughout the tunnel. The blade sank to the hilt and blood and intestinal fluids poured forth in a small geyser that sprayed the giant’s stomach and Will’s pants legs and puddled upon the floor. The Sleestak released its grip from around Will’s neck and reared back in agony. The jade-colored monstrosity hissed in anguish and Will twisted the blade and drove his shoulder into the humanoid’s lower chest, driving it away from him and into the wall. The creature fell back and against the cave wall and gasped in agony. Will followed the beast down and twisted the knife in its gut as he did. He pulled the blade free then stood and watched in unapologetic glee as the fallen flailed and twisted in struggle to stand.

Will swung the blade into and across the creature’s neck. Blood spurt forth and the monstrosity fought in vain with its hands to keep the life from pouring out of it. The Sleestak spasmed and shook then dropped its arms and fell over and onto its side in death. Will stumbled backwards and against the wall opposite in exhaustion. He gasped for breath then righted himself and stumbled forward. He walked a few feet then leaned against the wall once more and used it as support as he knelt to the ground. He picked up the red pack that had been torn from him during the attack and tightened it against his shoulders the best he could. He lifted the crude torch that he had carried with him into the tunnel and blew on the ambers until it burst forth and into flame. He took a deep breath and rose once more. He held the flame before him in his left hand, keeping the fixed blade in his right and across his chest and at the ready and made his way further into the labyrinth.

The damp air of the tunnel grew colder the further into the depths he went, and he felt a slight shiver creep up his spine and the hairs on his forearms stand on end. He rolled the tattered sleeves of his chambray shirt down in response and continued forward. Every step he took was deliberate and meticulous, cautious and guarded. He had made it another ten yards when the slightest of noises caught his attention. He spun around to see another Sleestak barreling toward him from the darkness. He held the torch before him and ran toward the slender giant. The Sleestak fired its crossbow then raised its arms to shield its massive eyes from the light. The bolt hit Will in his left shoulder and the impact spun him around and to the ground.

Will cringed in pain.

The Sleestak dropped its arms and ran toward Will.

Will lunged for the dropped torch and took it in his hand.

The Sleestak barreled forward.

Will exploded upward and thrust the torch outward and into the giant’s eye.

The Sleestak hissed in pain, reared back in agony, then drove forward and into Will. It grabbed the bolt that sat embedded in Will’s shoulder and twisted it. Will howled in pain. The Sleestak pushed the bolt further into Will’s flesh and drove him downward and toward the cave floor. Will fought this then relented and dropped to his knees and rolled over and upward. The Sleestak lost its grip on the bolt. Will came up with his knife and drove it toward the giant’s abdomen. The blade skidded across the Sleestak’s thick belly plates and the momentum of the miss took Will to the floor once more. The Sleestak reached down and grabbed Will yet again by the bolt still embedded in his shoulder and pulled him from the floor and heaved him upward. Will screamed in anguish. The giant took Will by the neck and raised him off the ground and to before him. Will grabbed the giant by the forearms in struggle to break its grip on his throat.

The Sleestak hissed. Will’s feet kicked wildly in search of purchase. Will drove his knife downward and into the giant’s burnt eye. The Sleestak dropped its hold on Will and bucked backward. Will pulled his knife and collapsed to the floor. The Sleestak arched its back in pain and held to eye. Will fought to breath. He stood and rammed his shoulder against the cave wall driving the bolt completely through his shoulder. He screamed in agony at the motion then grabbed the bolt and ran forward in a blind rage. He lunged through the air and drove the bolt into the giant’s throat. The beast fell backward and to the ground. It spasmed once then fell dead.

Will coughed. His body shook in a crash of adrenaline. He grabbed his torch from the ground with shaking hands and blew it once more to life. He jammed the torch into a small crack in the wall then pulled a bandana from his pocket. He held it against his shoulder to stop the bleeding then knotted the rag and shoved it into the wound. He took the torch into his left hand once more and held his knife at the ready. He strode further into the darkness and down the tunnel.

He felt his body getting weaker with each step he took. His sweat turned cold. He shivered.

Coughed.

Wheezed.

The pain in his arm grew worse.

His body ached.

He lost focus.

He stopped and took a long pull on his canteen. He pressed the bandana further into his wound and ran his hand over the cold sweat upon his brow and through his hair. He coughed once more and continued down the tunnel.

The air grew colder and with it came the stench of rot and decay. The air reeked of offal and metals, of mold and Sulphur and stagnate water. The stench grew stronger and stronger and the air colder still with every step he took.

The tunnel gave way to a chamber door covered in thick cobwebs. Will cut an entrance with his torch and stepped forward. He held the torch high above him and gazed upon row after row of Sleestaks standing dormant in hibernation. The air was still and the chamber void of all noise. Each seven-foot-tall body stood motionless, draped in cobwebs and in the dust that had settled upon them. Will counted 14 Sleestak. He stared at them in disgust and in a hatred born some 45 years earlier.

He loathed their existence.

Hated them to their core.

And blamed them for his very being.

Their ignorance had brought him and his family to this world.

Their savagery had taken that family from him.

Will wanted nothing more than to kill them all.

To stab them, to sacrifice them to their god, to throw them from the temple and into the daylight and into the jaws of those that would fest upon them.

But none of that was feasible.

He was too old now.

And alone.

He knew he wouldn’t have made it past the two guards had their species not been in the dormant season and he was ready to take advantage of that.

Today was the day he ended them.

He pulled the pack from his shoulders and grimaced in pain as the strap ran over his wound. He knelt to the ground and pulled two items wrapped in leather from the pack. He unrolled the first to reveal a blue crystal the size of a football. Even in the relative darkness of the cave, the jewel shown brilliantly. Will took the gem and placed it in the center of the chamber then returned to his pack. He unfurled the second package to reveal a crystal the same size as the first only green in color. The jewel was wrapped in twine and Will carefully unspooled it from around the stone then checked to make sure that the string still ran through a hole in the center of the crystal. It had taken him months to drill the hole through the crystal and several weeks to turn jungle vines into the string that was tied to it.

Will placed the green stone six inches behind the blue stone and ran the twine through his hands and back toward his pack. He started to reach for the pack then realized there was no need and instead headed for the chamber entrance unraveling the twine as he did. He felt the string go tight when he was ten feet into the tunnel then paused to take a breath. He held the torch in the direction that led back to the exit of the Lost City and saw nothing but shadows and darkness. He rubbed his shoulder in pain then turned back toward the chamber he had just exited. He took a deep breath then jerked the string. The green crystal was pulled against the blue and the two converged into an explosion that shook the chamber and echoed outward and down the tunnel. The force knocked Will to the ground and set his ears to ringing. He jumped to his feet and fought the dizziness and ran for the exit.

The tunnel shook.

Small rocks fell from the ceiling.

Earth and dust stormed from the chamber and down the tunnel.

Will ran with all his might.

He ran past the Sleestak that lie dead with the bolt in its neck then past the one that leaned sideways in death and slicked with blood. He saw the light of day before him and he tossed his torch aside and sprinted with all the energy that his body had. His lungs burned. Pain throbbed in his shoulder and agony pooled in his legs. He exited the tunnel and into the remnants of what was once a grand courtyard then turned and watched as the exit to the city belched forth a monstrous cloud of debris.

Will collapsed to his knees and fought to breathe. He held his shoulder tight then burst into tears of exhaustion and release. He fell forward and to the ground as if in prayer then grabbed his head in both hands in an attempt to silence the ringing in his ears. He pulled his hands away and saw them painted in blood and knew that both his eardrums had ruptured. He continued weeping then sat up and eventually stood. He walked comatose across the plaza and past the worn stone columns and past a rock painted ages ago with the warning, “Beware the Sleestak.”

He made his way to the temple where he’d lived alone for so long and removed his shirt then pulled the rag from his shoulder. He washed the blood from his hands and hair and wound in water held in a gourd then dried himself with a fresh shirt and put it on. He entered the temple and lie upon his bed crafted from cut limbs and lashed together with leather made from the skins of animals he’d killed or found. He ran his hand over his shoulder and it came away slicked with blood and he knew the chances of it ever healing were slim. He wiped his hand on his shirt then ran both hands over his grey beard and through his wavy gray hair.

Will closed his eyes in exhaustion and drifted into a place somewhere between consciousness and sleep, a place where his memories lived and seemed all too real. There he found his father and his sister, his uncle and his mother, and Chaka. He saw his father heading toward a place he hoped was home then watched himself burying the others. He saw himself laughing and having fun, struggling and in pain. He went through his life and his life with others.

These visions grew blurry then gave way to a sharp picture of him sleeping. His body was worn and cut, aged and broken. The image faded and blurred then gave way to darkness and to a peace he had never known.

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