Giving Fantasia: The Taking Fantasia Sequel

Chapter 7: The Boogie Man

Chapter 7: The Boogie Man

It was a mistake.

A BIG mistake.

Sinbad made a mental note – voluntarily flushing oneself down a humungous toilet was not fun. Gutsy maybe. But not fun.

Water fluxed across his face, nearly stretching the skin off his bone. His spine twisted and cracked. The pressure was too heavy and the current was too strong. The whirlpool had him. It would never let him go.

Sinbad couldn't have escaped if he tried. So he didn't

Fully accepting that he was probably going to die, Sinbad closed his eyes and hoped for the best. He might've been a filthy pirate, but Sinbad was ever the optimist. Optimism –it was the only way to stay alive. It was also the only way to keep running away without looking back.

So, Sinbad fell. Concentrating on the siren's voice, he hit the heart of the whirlpool –

—and breathed.

Sinbad opened his eyes. He gasped, gulping air.

He could breathe! But...he was still underwater.

Sort of. Kind of. Not really.

Sinbad floated from his lifeline. He was suspended within some sort of buoyant matrix – it was similar to water, but breathable like air. Experimentally Sinbad extended his hands, testing his surroundings.

Sinbad knew he was somewhere within the whirlpool's epicenter because it was pitch black, just as he had observed before descending into the heart of the vortex. Rings of darkness wheeled around him, twisting through each other without sound.

Sinbad squinted. From above, he had described the twisting darkness as a bag of worms. But up close, the darkness looked more like...

Shadows Sinbad thought. Curiously, he reached for a wispy tendril as it swished by. His fingertips suddenly felt cold, but the shadow was too far to touch.

Sinbad rotated on his lifeline, gazing at the shadows. He was awed. As the shadows beat to the siren's song, Sinbad suddenly realized what this strange place resembled.

It resembled a dream. A lucid dream, where he knew he was dreaming but couldn't wake up.

Sinbad panicked. Maybe he was dead! Oh boy, that would suck.

More grouchy than dismayed, Sinbad looked up. He tugged his lifeline. The shadows recoiled around the rope. As they melted back together, Sinbad glimpsed the periphery of an aquamarine funnel. It looked like a revolving spring.

Sinbad relaxed. He was still under Charybdis. It was unlikely he was dead. Always good news. Happy thoughts, Sinbad. Happy thoughts.

Mood improved, Sinbad furthered his investigation. His vision was acclimating to the darkness. Sinbad noticed bulkier shapes drifting within the shadows. The shapes looked solid but incredibly dissimilar.

Sinbad swam through the dreamscape world. With difficulty he tried to identify the shapes as they passed. But there wasn't enough light. Then, remembering that stars appear brighter when viewed from peripheral vision, Sinbad studied the shapes from the corner of his eye.

He was astounded. 

There were metal shards. Sinbad differentiated them immediately because they were blacker than the shadows. At first he thought the shards were made of iron. But when he grasped one, the shard stung – almost like ice. Each shard was jagged, and Sinbad imagined the pieces had exploded from a bigger object.  But what that 'bigger object' could have been, Sinbad hadn't a clue.