The Spirals of Oz (unillustrated ver.)

Track 3 - Gone, Still

 Sam woke to the sharp splash of his body landing in a pool of fluid. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, and he didn't care. The water was warm. Blissfully so. It enveloped him, wrapping his battered bruised body in a liquid embrace. The storm had either subsided or released him, and the silence was sublime. The only sound was the gentle rumble of bubbles as his body sank further into the depths.

Maybe I'm dead, he thought.

Maybe this is what death feels like.

Maybe this is heaven.

The very moment the idea had crossed his mind he dismissed it. There was no such thing. And a slight pressure was building in his lungs, a decidedly biological function. Still he chose to keep sinking, eyes closed, savoring the peace. He may have continued descending naturally until he hit the bottom of the lake or his lungs gave out, but as the water swirled around him, he became aware of something that snapped him from his tranquility.

This pool wasn't filled with water. It was thicker, like some sort of ooze or mucus.

And whatever it was, it was pulling him down.

{{FIG. 10: SAM SINKING; BUBBLES AROUND HIM, HIS HAIR FLOATING UNNATURALLY; A GHOSTLY SHADOW BELOW}}

He opened his eyes. The fluid was a milky, translucent orange. It didn't hurt his eyes exactly, yet something was undoubtedly wrong. The viscosity of the stuff he was slowly sinking in created an unexpected resistance. Shifting his eyes from one place to the next took a small but noticeable effort, and the sensation was horrifically unnatural. It made his brain itch, and the more he did it, the more he could feel panic and carbon dioxide competing for space in his lungs, each screaming for release as he fell deeper and deeper into the strange lake.

Sam decided to live. Or, to try anyway.

Because moving his eyes was psychologically excruciating, he simply turned his head, looking all around him. All he could see were murky shadows, save for a beam of light that he trusted must be the surface.

He kicked towards the light. Whatever he was in, it was thicker than water, and harder to swim out of. He raised his arms to begin a breaststroke and found he could not unclench his right hand. That damn knife was still attached to him, bound to him with tight wires. But that didn't matter if he drowned. He kicked again, moving his arms, fighting his way upwards.

Slowly, his body rose.

Slowly, his vision darkened.

Just when he thought he couldn't make it, his head broke the surface. He took a grateful breath only to find that the stuff had clung to him. Rather than air, he'd sucked in a lungful of gunk. It was a vaguely sweet-tasting slime, and it burned his lungs as he sputtered and choked. Instinctively, he brought his hands to his face to wipe the stuff away, forgetting about the knife just long enough to give himself a nasty cut on the face. Using his free hand, he wiped away as much of the bloodied goop from his mouth while simultaneously coughing up great globs of it.

Once his breathing was mostly regulated again, he cleared away his eyes. Looking around, it appeared he was in a shallow basin of some kind. Like a swimming pool, the walls of the space were smooth; it would be hard to find purchase to escape. The top of the walls were jagged and just out of reach, but they were the best chance he had of getting out of here.

And he did need to get out of there, the faster the better. The liquid was still clinging, still pulling at him. He was treading water well enough, but his body was exhausted. He couldn't stay afloat forever.

Sam swam to a wall and stabbed, hoping to use the knife as a piton to lift his body enough to grab the ledge.

The first strike bounced off.

The second left a small dent.

The third strike missed entirely as Sam was struck halfway through with another fit of coughing. He was running out of energy and losing his focus.

The fourth stuck.

With immense strain, Sam managed to pull himself up enough to grab the top. As he began to pull his body over the side, there was a sharp cracking sound, and the entire section of wall broke off, dropping him back into the goo.

But he'd done just enough.

A split had formed, and Sam resurfaced just in time to see the whole wall break open, dumping him in a great wave of goo out of the pool and into the unknown.

{{FIG. 11: SAM AT THE TOP OF A WATERFALL JUST OUTSIDE THE POOL, DESPERATELY REACHING BACK TOWARDS IT}}