Joe stood with his hand to his brow, shielding the hot sun from his eyes as he took in the view. He traced the river below as it meandered it's way through the lush, rich valley. Settlements, little squares with pink tops, could be seen dotted randomly as ant-like vehicles crawled their way between them. He withdrew his gaze from the distance and looked to the sweating guide who was haranguing Darius for yet another free cigarette. Who knew such a giant could be bullied so, and Joe with a smile knew he would take great pleasure in reminding Darius of it later. Still, they had a mission and Joe's face tensed.
“So, Fran?ois, the path is …”
Francois, the wrinkled fresh roll hanging from his lips, scratched his bald plate. “T’inquiète, follow me”.
With a surprisingly rapid gait, the short man took off towards what seemed to be the cliff edge and within moments disappeared out of sight beyond the brush. Darius looked at Joe and shrugged as they both took off after the eccentric fellow. They found a narrow path that descended deeply right on the edge of the cliff. Something of a goat's trail Joe thought. Further down they could make out the light blue of Fran?ois’ jacket as he nimbly scrambled down the trail. Joe looked over his right shoulder towards the valley and slowed his pace somewhat. Between him and oblivion only a few scrawny shoots lay, best to be careful.
Despite the dry stones and sand that slid under their feet as they picked their way down, they made it unscathed within an hour to where Fran?ois waited, who had somehow procured a bottle of beer which he was swigging contentedly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve belching as he did so “Thirsty work non? I am afraid I have only one bottle aha”
They were sheltered from the sun beneath a tree that hung precariously to the side of the cliff, and the trio found great relief in its shade. Francois swirled the bottle with his wrist and then pointed its base towards the path that continued down. “Just here, on the right you will find ze entrance to ze cave. I will wait for you here” he nodded at the brothers as he withdrew yet another fresh bottle. “Bonne chance”.
Darius, not willing to be around the shifty Frenchman any longer than necessary, made off down the path with Joe closely on his heels. Sure enough, as they neared the end of the path a cave whose entrance was mostly covered in vines appeared. Darius swept back the vines and ushered Joe in with his right. “After you, my lord”
The cool air of the cave was a blessing after the overbearing heat, the dampness a balm. The pair took a moment to remove torches from their packs as they began their inspection of the entrance. A thick layer of dust lay on the floor of the cave entrance, only marred by what appeared to be small pawprints. “Looks like no one has been down here in a long time” Darius suggested, wiping the dust with his forefinger. “Seems that way” Joe agreed, pointing his torch towards the back of the cave. “Shall we?”
They rounded a bend to find themselves facing a dead end. The pair touched the walls searching for some hidden mechanism but to no avail.
Behind them the greasy man appeared, Francois nervously twisting his fingers by his elbow. “It seems you did not lie, dear Fran?ois.”
“You!” Joe stammered too shocked to see the greasy man here compared to the obvious betrayal of Fran?ois. “Why are you here?”
The greasy man laughed. “ Obviously to rid myself of yet another pest, just like I ridded myself of your father those many years ago! I haven't forgotten what that foul witch and you did to me! Face your damnation!” With his left hand the greasy man made a peculiar sign and with his right he shoved Fran?ois towards the brothers, who were too shocked to move. Not that they had a chance because within a split second that greasy man was gone replaced by a smooth wall. Behind them the wall has vanished, leaving behind a narrow corridor that seemed to stretch infinitely into the darkness. The brothers looked down at the cowering Frenchman between them with disgust. Francois attempted a smarmy smile but was cuffed on the head by Darius. “You, walk in front”.
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They followed the corridor for what seemed like hours until they finally came upon a break in the monotony. Lining the walls were mirrors. Mirrors of all shapes and sizes, some broken, others whole. In some of the mirrors they saw their reflections but distorted. In others they saw images of other people, people in rags, some crying, others laughing. Hysterical. The brothers stopped to inspect a particularly ornate mirror when suddenly they spun the heads as they heard a visceral scream. Before them Francois has launched himself at a mirror. Confused the brothers watched as the small Frenchman, who they expected to bounce of the wall disappeared into the mirror he had attacked. The brothers looked at each other and then shuffled up to the mirror where the frenchman had disappeared. The image in the mirror told them all they needed to know. Francois was laughing as he through piles of cash in the air. Yet each time he tried to hold onto the money it would melt in his fingers turning to flame. Yet he did not stop trying to grab the money, his fingers burning with every attempt. Beneath the frame blood was oozing out like forbidden icing from a cake. The brothers watched on in horror. Somehow they both knew Fran?ois was no more. “We mustn't look at the mirrors” they agreed.
They walked the cave, the mirrors on the wall lit my by mysterious means. One mirror beckoned the brothers like no other, the face one they both knew and loved. “Dad?” Before Joe could stop him Darius stepped of the path in front of the morrow. Silently the image of their father screamed within his oval prison giving rise to a deep pain in their hearts. Darius reached out for his father, his arm passing through the mirror like it was water, yet leaving not even a ripple. Joe's mind screamed at him. Without a second's hesitation he grabbed his brother by his shoulder and wrenched him away. The image of their father distorted in unbridled fury as Darius’arn came free. But not all his arm. Joe fell to floor with his brother feeling a deep sense of nausea. For Darius’ arm was no longer. In its place a stump remained, no blood, but a perfect cross cut showing bone, muscle and sinew. Darius’ face had waned to a ghostly white as he looked at the stump that was once his arm. He let out a deep shuddering breath as his eyes rolled back into his head.
With great effort of will, Joe ripped apart his shirt which he used to bind the end of Darius’ arm. In a way he was thankful that there was no blood, his brother wasn't in danger. The shock of it all though, the effects of which would remain to be seen.
Just past the hall of mirrors Joe could hear the grating laugh of the greasy man echo off the walls. An anger, and anger he had never felt before ignited the flames within him. Taking his brother in arm, he swung him over his shoulder as if he were a light sack of clothes. His right hand clenched into a fist the pressure of which distorted the air around it, even causing some hairline cracks to appear on the smooth walls beside him. He stomped forwards, each step leaving a deep imprint in the stone behind him, as waves of heat rose from within them. The flame within him was becoming without. Even the ends of his clothes began to fray and char, as the glue in his shoes melted and evaporated. Still he walked on, soon shoeless, then sockless. The laughing did not abate, instead it seemed to ring in his ears like a pealing bell. He opened his fist and closed it again, forcing a wave of pressure to slam the walls beside him. This was too much for the walls which undulated under the pressure like a sea beneath a strong wind. The waves of pressure rode across the wall and where they collided the wall exploded into tiny fragments, showering Joe and his brother in dust. Still he walked on. Before him a solid wall. Still he walked on. The mirrors beside him promising wealth, faces of Julia cajoling and entreating. Still he walked on.
The greasy man stood lazily in the middle of the atrium, behind him the ruins of seats gave testament to their age old purpose. He nudged at the rubble of what was once a stone podium with his immaculately polished shoe. A faint frown marred his features as he turned his face to the solid wall before him. “Not possible” he whispered. No sooner than he had uttered those words, cataclysm struck. The wall before him burst apart like a popped balloon. Boulders great and small smashed into him with a tremendous force wounding him. Now on the floor, he coughed up some bloody phlegm as he turned towards to scene of catastrophe. Before him, stood a man shrouded in darkness. A giant of a man who held a giant on his shoulders. The greasy man looked to his face and felt horror. For where the man's eyes should have been two blue flames burned. The greasy man could not withdraw his gaze and he knew, somehow he knew, the flames were looking right at him, at his soul. He felt himself being lifted up in the terrifying man's arm as if he were but a twig.
My father, how did he end up in the mirror? Joe's voice grated. The greasy man shook in terror as the flames held him, not even registering the liquid heat that ran down his legs. “ We pushed him, he knew too much. Like the others before him”.
“Who is ‘we’ ”? Joe rumbled. “I cannot tell you, they would do things worse than you could ever do” the greasy man wailed, madness beginning to take hold. “We will all die, except it's a fate worse than death.” The man began to laugh hysterically. “ We are already dead”. The flames in Joe's eyes did not waver.
“No, just you.” That would be the last thing the greasy man would ever know, as his last thoughts scattered like the dust he became.
