Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 4 - Kings and Peasants (RQ & SY)

A/N: This was a partner task in which two writers got together and wrote one entry. My partner for this task was Tess (or TessRebellious). She was really fun to work with, and our characters seemed to get along "splendidly."

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One thing is completely certain for those roaming the dank cave system that are either trembling in their boots or staring down the coral that had led them to where they now stand or float: they are utterly lost. Helplessness is common amongst them all, for some more than others, but there nonetheless. As Steve stares down at the pit of boiling water mere inches from his feet, he can't help but think he's more helpless than the lot of them.

I am helpless, he thought. And he was. Steve couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he was stuck and nothing could ever save him. I'm going to die before anything is fixed. Everything was dreadful and rotten, ruined, broken beyond repair. "I've got to get out of here."

His mind raced as he frantically looked for a way to save his life. The creatures would return soon if he didn't get away. Boiling water could only protect him for so long. The walls around him weren't smooth, but he had no guarantee how long he could climb them. Steve had to move quick, otherwise he'd find himself dead.

"What do you do with bad chemistry jokes?"

Lifting himself up, Steve began to climb upwards. Each movement pulled his muscles taut against one another. With the barest chuckle he responded, "You barium." Another bad one. Still, he had to. The jokes were his only escape.

"I can't sea why people don't like water jokes. What's the hydrophobia for? I'm shore they just don't understand how funny they really are. Whale, what a waste."

Rocks upon rocks filled his vision as he continued on. Stress was a drug and he was happy to drink it up as he reached a ledge and pulled himself onto it. His stomach burned as the porous walls scratched him. Just as he managed to stand again there was an intense screech. A young boy was screaming his lungs out.

Despite his better judgement, Steve found himself turning in the child's direction.

His steps echoed through the system as he approached the noise, his hand dragging along the wall in case this was another trap, another maze. The caves were a maze themselves, and after that coral incident, he wanted to avoid another one. A second screech ricocheted against the same wall he clung to. It echoed down the tunnels. Steve shivered.

"What's a ghost's favorite dessert? I-scream," he said with a nervous chuckle. It echoed as well. God, I sound like a comedian with alzheimer's. "What do you call it when a ghost skins their souls? A boo-boo."

He made haste with his walking, knowing that if he didn't it would only get worse. The creatures could come back, there could actually be a ghost, hell, there could even be a deadly tribute just waiting to slit his throat. The screams were tortured, gargled even, like whatever child was making them had water running past his lips as he did it. And, although Steve couldn't see it, he was correct.

Reed thrashed about in a pool of water, his thoughts a mess, his body a mess. The eels clung to him with their jagged teeth, digging in every time he resurfaced to cry for help. Neri was long gone, along with Aeren, and he was left alone, left to die. He'd been left for dead by someone he thought trusted him, and that hurt far more than the bites did. What made all of his struggles pointless was the fact he couldn't swim. He was helpless, too.

Stomach clenching at the sound of splashing water, Steve walked closer. Whimpers met his ears. His instincts overwhelmed him, and he rounded a corner, finally seeing for himself what was happening. His heart pounded in his ears but it was overthrown by the splashes and screams of the young boy. Crazy as he had seemed--always calling people animals and giving malicious looks--the boy was too small to die in such a way.