Tragedy of the Gimbles

III

Nancy Gimble was starving. She had been starving for the past forty-three years, nine months, and- her stomach cramped up and she groaned pitifully, as her train of thought was shattered once again. Her hand squeezed around the diamond encrusted, golden chalice in her hand. It was one of dozens, all virtually identical, which made up the pile she was lying on.

No food here, she though bitterly. No drink, either. Choking back another sob, she looked despairingly around the monstrous cavern she now called home. Treasure. Wealth, as far as she could see. Pile after pile she had made, collecting the scattered coins, artifacts, and gemstones, filling the gaps up with varieties of furniture.

On the outskirts of her village of organization lay a sea of treasures, waist deep in some places. Posts topped with crystal orbs lit the cavern, illuminating the sheer magnitude of Nancy's prison. The furthest ones in her field of vision formed lines of light, streaking off into the darkness. Where they ended, she couldn't judge.

Her stomach cramped up again, and her arm spasmed reflexively, causing her to drop the chalice. Nancy licked her lips, bone dry, and struggled to rise from the pile. Her stomach protested with stabs of pain, making her cry out, but she eventually succeeded in standing.

Walking carefully, Nancy made her way to the long, leather couch nearby, stacked with silken pillows. Moving it had been a horrible experience, and she had almost passed out a few times while trying. But as she sat down on the soft cushions, feeling herself sink into the pillows, she reflected that it had been worth it, to some degree.

At least he allowed me some form of comfort. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her just how slim of a comfort it was. Her hand ran along the armrest, feeling the desperate teethmarks where she had tried to tear into the leather. She had only managed to worsen her toothaches, accumulated from clamping down on gold, silver, wood, and anything else she could find.

Nancy knew he had hidden food somewhere here. It would be disguised, of course, designed so she would pass right by it. Somewhere, in the shape of something inedible. The only shape she could see...

He'll let me go, she thought to herself, as she often did when she needed a reminder. When I beat his game, he'll let me go.

Nancy closed her eyes, and pictured that moment. Yes, she would find food here. She would bite into something, and her mouth would be filled with the taste of something sweet, or sour, or bitter. Sometimes she pictured the food as hot, sometimes as pleasantly cool.

Or sometimes it would be a drink, in a large golden tub. It would dribble down her chin as she gulped it down, letting it slosh around in her mouth as she savored its refreshing wetness. She could almost taste it now. Punch, chilled by ice cubes, with a fruity tang giving the impression of strawberries.

It's out there, she told herself, feeling the drink pass her wettened lips, flowing down her bone-dry throat. I just have to find it. She opened her eyes, vision blurry with tears.

I just have to find it. She rose slowly, wincing at the sudden stretch to her stomach, and looked out at the litter of endless treasure. She walked towards it, solid rock echoing under her feet, until she reached the 'shore' of her barren island. At her feet lay a scattering of puzzle boxes and amethysts, with the occasional crystal ashtray.

Nancy decided to start with the puzzle boxes. She quietly sat down, gritting her teeth as her stomach rumbled once again. "It'll be over soon," she reminded herself, pain audible in her voice. She continued repeating this as she began her sorting.