Dell's Journey

Chapter 28: Guilt Personified And Dell Meet

 Monster was asleep first, and his breath sounded like

cats purring. Except for that it was silent. The mere

darkness had begun to lose its effect. In half-light, a

frightened child can see a witch's fingernails in a tree

branch scraping the window. But in pitch-blackness there

is nothing to be seen at all. In pitch-blackness the scary

things are sounds.

Perhaps this is why Dell was so horrified to hear what

he heard now: a heaving, scratchy sound, like dry autumn

leaves being crushed. It was growing louder as whatever

was making it steadily came closer. It seemed to Dell that

whatever was making the noise was greatly belabored. In

fact, as the scraping became clearer and clearer, one could

detect a grunting and huffing – the signs of a struggle and

weariness.

Realizing, with surprising logic, that nothing could

make the situation any worse, Dell suddenly called out.

"Hello?"

The steady noise instantly stopped. In its absence,

Dell's ears once again detected the rhythm of Monster's

respiration.

"Who's there?" Dell asked the emptiness, his voice

dull in the oppressive confines of the cavern.

Nothing.

1. Heart rate increasing uncontrollably.

"Dell," said a voice at once chilling and strangely

familiar, "it's me."

Dell had not expected to know anyone in here. He lay

very confused and very silent for a minute. When he

managed to speak again, all he could say was, "What?"

"You know me," replied the voice with a gurgle-y

quality that suggested something unpleasant in its throat,

"though, we haven't met...[clearing of the throat]...like this

before."

The scraping and laboring sounds continued now, and so

did the voice, gurgle-y as ever,

"In a way...I'm surprised you haven't recognized me

already. We've had...so many...wonderful talks along the way.

Ever since...you were a little boy."

[Continual sounds of heaving and difficult breathing.]

Dell began to envision a disgusting creature dragging

itself along with its arms across the brutal tunnel-floor.

As though through a considerable amount of phlegm, the

voice went on,

"Perhaps you'd respond...to a clue. I...think you'll

remember the very...first time we met. You were five years