Acari

Chapter Nine

Tears racked Acari's body like boulders falling down a cliff edge. She never imagined this day would come, and yet here it was. Papaya was here with her as they hugged. It almost didn't feel real, and Acari didn't want to believe it, but she was there and touching Papaya and hugging her and crying and so many things were happening all at once, but she was happy. She was so happy. How long has it been?

Papaya departed first. "I've missed you so much," She said, tears also streaming down her face. "You don't even know."

"I know I don't," Acari said laughing in so much happiness. "I've had the worst of it. How's, mother?"

"Oh," Papaya's joy evaporated, along with her spirit as her eyes widened. She was silent for a long time until Acari realized she never intended on answering that question, or at least not out loud.

But it was oh, so loud.

Acari just fell to the floor. That was enough excitement for one day. The mayor was possibly going to use her magic for something, she had an upcoming match with the mayor of the entire HindFoot ministate, Ragnar had just said he loved her, Papaya was here, and her mother was gone.

She curled herself into a ball and cried herself to sleep.

I'm with and watching you. Find me.

Huh?

I'm with and watching you. Find me.

What? Where am I?

FIND ME.

You would find yourself in their grasp again, fallen into their array of lies and stark beliefs. Choosing to follow that path will only lead you to a dark future. But that is the only path available and you find yourself stuck in a labyrinth of bad choices, all circling infinitely back to that one choice you decide to make. Will this be your fault? Surely there is a better option, anothing path? If you knew... Maybe you would have changed this miserable future for yourself. But it's too late. Too far in.

YOU WILL BE TRAPPED.

Shiny silver-white walls will reflect the white light that seems to come from nowhere in the huge space, the sky a dark blue and there was nothing to it, just color. The floors were the same, but boring gray instead of blue. There will be long hallways that will fork randomly, forcing anyone who will cross to choose a path or be trapped. There will be no escape.

Whispers would echo throughout the labyrinth, clouding the hearer's ears. Apparent they find no way out, they would go crazy. The whispers envelope, they would hurt. One would need to find their way out. Fast.

A voice would shine over the whispers, a boom over the tiniest ricochets. The voice would call out and would invite, away from all madness. The voice would be so warm and tender, one would want to hold and cherish it. But it would fade.

Struggle to keep, struggle to follow. Find the path, follow the path. Dead ends, misleading corners. When would it end? The voice would get louder and louder, the deeper and deeper one would go. How deep could one go before all was lost?

The sleek silver-white walls would glow with the light, and the light would be found now. It was here, bright and white, so sparkly, so fresh. The whispers would not follow one here, the light was too sharp for their smooth, sleek tastes. Freedom would be the light, and the light would be freedom.

But the light would deceive, there was no freedom. Collembola, the dragon statue from previous occasions is now the light. Red would be everywhere, you feel the red. Not the blood red, but the emotion red. Red would be fury. Red would be anger. Anger would be for Collembola.