Cave Game

III - Dusk

After a short while, Steve sat at the stump of the tree, holding a section of log, panting slightly.

Past the stump, the thoroughly chopped trunk ceased, only for it to continue growing upwards moments later into a healthy bush of leaves that sat aloft, suspended by some supernatural force that obviously held a middle finger to gravity. Apoplectic and distraught, Steve nestled amongst the law-defying tree's roots, fighting to grasp at anything while grasping the very log that seemed to cause him to lose his grasp on reality. He mulled over hand-selected thoughts that he plucked carefully from the frenzied shoals swimming throughout his head, spiraling the log in his hand like a glass of wine as he did so. 

In this process, he had been able to sort out a couple important tidbits from the onslaught. First, when he picked the log up, he became aware of the fact that there was what he surmised to be some sort of extra-dimensional space connected to him that he could use to store items. Through experimentation, he found that if he stopped thinking about the log, or if he wanted to move on and do something else, the log would be sent to this 'inventory out of the confines of space'. If he wanted it back, all he had to do was think about it again and it would appear once more in his hands. This was achieved with much difficulty; Steve was in no way used to the unnatural mental gymnastics he had to do in order to engage with this process of forgetting something to put it away tidily. Second, when he picked up the log, somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of his cluttered mind, a dribbling and withered candle was lit, exposing dim pathways through his mental fog to unveil a comprehension of craftsmanship. Crystal clear, he knew he could turn this piece of wood into a group of sturdy planks. Gripping the log as a stress ball instead of a wine glass, he gritted his teeth thinking about how whatever God ruled over this world decided to taunt him with the unhelpful knowledge of carpentry instead of providing any real answers.

He squeezed the log even harder, using both his hands. "Why!? Why do I know this? I don't have any tools, how am I supposed to make planks?" He interrogated the universe.

With an angry contortion of his wrists, the log spun like an egg timer and morphed into four cubic and expertly milled plank blocks.

Steve didn't say anything.

Steve then cursed.

"Of course," he indistinctly and incoherently murmured, his head in his hands. 

"Of course, of course! Why would I expect anything else?" He continued to babble to himself, verging on a complete breakdown. With a deep sigh and a rub of his brow line and temples, composure tentatively stepped back in the doorway to see if everyone calmed down. Steve let his hand fall from his face to his chest like a curtain dropping from the rafters, revealing to his eyes one of the most breathtakingly vibrant sunsets he had ever seen. Bathed in gentle shades of pink and orange, the lofty clouds that once troubled him now felt comforting, and the light shining through the leaves of trees that made no sense was so pretty he didn't seem to care that they should be falling over. Serenity gracefully washed over him, dancing through the doorway and settling into the space. He watched as the sun peacefully dropped over the horizon, engulfing him in darkness and revealing a cosmos full of stars.

"Wow..." Steve mentioned aloud. He played with the cubes in his hands as he peered into the glittering heavens, taking in each twinkling speck as it wheeled around him. His admiration was interrupted by unease once again returning, barging in the doorway and shoving past composure and serenity to stand in the middle of the room, displacing both in the process. His senses rushed back to him like how he awoke on the beach, and his ears picked up the faint sounds of things rustling all around him, things that didn't sound all together pleasant. He felt his ears tug upward on his head as he stood, each working, nervously collecting more details like growing vibrations on a seismograph. Something had changed.