Villain in the Canvas

Chapter 3

The terrain is soft and uneven along the bubbling stream. It felt of peat moss underneath the sinking impression of each step. The boulders cutting from the adjacent cliffs taper the path to a single opening, just enough room to move along the narrow path.

The slates of stone are a mosaic of color, shapes melting into repetitive chaos across the looming titans piercing the sky, one vast screen of illumination, but not from any particular sun that I could see. The light was everywhere, a single light spread out evenly like butter on toast.

A few moments of gazing into the brightness came surging flickers, small swells of pigment forming from the light, every spectrum I could imagine making trippy ornaments in the sky.

Could this be the result of sun gazing searing my retina? A logical thought, but I didn't believe it, the light was intense but inviting, almost beckoning for me to get lost inside the expanding color. I felt an overwhelming sense of calm, this place was new yet familiar, I was both lost and at home.

Then my thoughts keep returning to the trippy nightmare, of dying, then conveniently waking to Ron with his cryptic smile and messages. The more the events replayed the more I was convinced he drugged me, even if he wasn't owning up to it.

Could these current illusions be the side effects, aftershocks of his new experimental potion? Wouldn't be the first time he dismissed dosing us. Got to love when your only living parent has you questioning your own sanity to save the validity of the freshest drug trial on his guinea pig children.

As my thoughts drift, the path cuts through the hillside, the rock walls now completely encasing the walkway. Stepping under the stone ceiling, all I could imagine was its weight giving way from the ridge, reducing me to the thickness of flapjacks.

I wasn't claustrophobic by any means, having snaked through my lion's share of crawl spaces. There was an energy from the stone tunnel, a gravity drawing me closer as I passed through.

Moving from under the rock's pull I gaze above the ledge to see the sharp black shape of a head peeking down at me.

"Hey! You up there?..." but as I shout the black round shake vanishes from behind the ridge.

"Hey!" I shout again, the only response to my echo.

They are gone Hunter, you spooked 'em, so much for the element of surprise, a voice scratched inside my ear. I turn around to no one behind me but freeze in place as the slithering whisper continues.

...You're trained better than this, I watched you, hell even helped you sometimes; you know, when you were too chickenshit to follow through on your own...

Before it's rant could continue the sharp edge of my blade coursed through the air, trying to find the owner of the deceiving noise. Still nothing there, the surrounding slab walls my only companions.

Did you already forget about me? Boy, I am sorry to say, but you are lost...

I could fucking hear it, right there next to me. Pivoting Echo's grip in my hand I thrust instantly behind me with a potent jab; a maneuver quick enough to reach even the most elusive enemies.  My eyes are just an instant behind as I twist around but catch nothing, no shape, shadow, or movement.

Confused still? Let's think about this flyboy, where do you think I am if you can't see me right next to you?

Another riddler, fantastic. Then it hits me, did the voice belong to the enigma on the ledge? I start sprinting up the path to the ridge. I know, it didn't make sense, how could I hear it next to me and then it be hiding far away?
Problem with following that logic is I had no other move at this time unless I wanted to keep twirling about aimlessly.