Alphabet Soup

Melodramatic

Melodramatic

        George took off his fedora and ran his hands through his hair. He wiped a few beads of sweat off of his forehead before putting the slightly beaten up hat back on. His quest was only half completed; he couldn’t afford to give up now. With booby traps potentially waiting to be sprung at the slightest misstep, George had to stay alert. He had nearly been flattened by an enormous boulder than had tumbled after him shortly after he had entered this accursed temple. It was only thanks to his incredible speed and reflexes that he had survived that particular surprise with all of his bones in tact. The last adventurer to explore here hadn’t been so lucky: George had found the crushed remains of his hat in one of the seemingly endless torch illuminated hallways he had sprinted through. 

        That had been the closest George had come to failing his quest so far. The other trials he had face hadn’t been trivial though. He had been forced to leap across pits like mouths gaping open in the earth with enormous wooden spikes waiting for him to skewer himself on them. A savage had tried to stab him with a poison tipped spear, screaming and performing some kind of bizarre war dance that looked so painful that George couldn’t help but wonder if the bizarrely dressed man was the victim of some kind of tropical disease that destroyed the brain. Even stranger were the scantly dressed temptresses who had tried to lead him astray. George had been lucky that time; the women had been taken away by the chief of a nearby tribe before they could weaken his resolve.

        Steeling his nerves against further obstacles, George continued his journey. The corridors got progressively darker until he was forced to grab a torch to take with him. Wrapping his hands around the wood, he pulled at the torch. It refused to come free of the wall. Instead, the torch was revealed to be a lever which activated a secret door. George liberated a torch from the other wall before venturing down the passageway. The air smelled faintly of smoke. George held the torch out further in front of him in an attempt to remedy the unpleasant situation to no avail. With no warning beside the persistent reek of acrid smoke that filled the hallway, flaming arrows shot out of the walls. George found himself frantically sprinting for the end of the passage in a heartbeat. He groaned aloud as the wall closed back over the hidden path, leaving him in almost complete darkness.  

        With nothing except for his torch and the flames surrounding the arrows to light his path, George dashed for safety. He sprung in the air multiple times to avoid the deadly points. By the time the arrows had ceased firing, George’s feet felt like they were covered in blisters. As long as they didn’t get infected and fill up with mucus yellow pus, he should be okay. A stone door slowly slid open in front of George, revealing a large chamber that was almost completely covered in images of what George assumed were ancient deities. A lone artifact lay on top of an elaborate ceremonial altar. His goal was now in sight. There was only one problem: it was completely surrounded by a pit full of hissing, writhing snakes.

        It just had to be snakes, didn’t it? It couldn't be spiders, scorpions, or even a pool full of half starved piranhas just this one time, could it? George ascended a few stairs to small platform so that he could jump from a higher spot. The treasure was too far away: he would have to jump onto another platform in the middle of the squirming sea of serpents before making him final leap. At lest it was high up enough that the reptiles couldn’t reach him. Still, George hated snakes.

        George backed up as far as he could go before his back brushed up against the stone door which had slid back into place behind him. There were no alternatives; this was his only option. George dashed forward, propelling himself forward as quickly as he could. He launched himself into the air at the last second before his foot met emptiness. Moments later, George’s feet slammed into the platform, sending a jolt of pain rocketing up his spine. George winced as he struggled to catch his breath.

        The fiendish creatures below seemed to sense his growing terror. Their hissing increased in volume until it felt like George’s ears were being scraped with sandpaper. George couldn’t resist looking down at the monstrosities slithering below. The snakes were a strange mix of species that George was fairly certain weren’t supposed to be living so close to each other. There were king cobras with large hoods, oily black colored creatures that belonged in a swamp, and dozens of other varieties all waiting to sink their hideous fangs deep into George’s flesh. Even though George couldn’t identify all of the snakes, he was fairly certain that they were all venomous.

        Before the snakes could paralyze him with fear, George prepared for his final leap. There was barely any room to back up, but he was determined to make ample use of every single millimeter. He backed up slowly, took a deep breath, and ran forward. He pushed off of the platform as hard as he could. He soared over the pit. For a second it looked like he might make it. It was then that George realized he was dropping too fast. He lunged for the edge of his destination only to miss by a fraction of an inch. George cried out as he fell, terrified of the dozens of fangs that would sink into him as soon as he landed. But the dreaded bites never came.

        George crashed to the floor with a thud; his outstretched hand had just barely missed the sheets. George’s mother rushed into the room, making the door slam loudly against the poster covered wall as she entered. “Is everyone okay?” She had abandoned her cooking the moment she had heard her youngest son’s scream. George assured her that he was fine as he picked himself up. His mother still inspected him for bruises and other injuries anyway. Satisfied that he was indeed safe, she patiently listened to how the plastic snakes that littered the floor of the room had supposedly been about to bite him. “It’s a good thing I got here so quickly then. It’s almost time for dinner, so please tidy up. The brave adventurer wouldn’t want to miss out on spaghetti night, would he?”

        Once she was sure that George was downstairs, the irritated mother turned her attention to the teenager who was awaiting her latest lecture. “Really, Luke? Snakes? You know how much those scare your brother. And that’s not even mentioning the toothpicks you stabbed into the carpet in his room, your exercise ball in the hallway, or what had better not be one of your father’s cigarettes. I really appreciate you playing with your brother, but your father will bring out the belt if you keep making such a horrific mess.”

        Luke shuddered at the mention of the most dreaded punishment in the house. His father could crack his old leather belt like a whip when he had to discipline his children. That would be even worse that the surprisingly fierce kick his brother had delivered between the legs of the ‘savage’. And it would get even worse if they found out about the toothpicks he had set on fire or that unfortunate moment with the magazine.  “I was just trying to have fun with him. It’s not my fault he screams every time he sees a snake.” Seeing his mother’s gaze harden into a furious glare, he quickly tried to appease her. “If you think that’s too much for him to handle, I’m sure I can find a different adventure for him. I can make him use his imagination so that he won’t make too much of a mess. How does an adventure in space sound?”