Rust

Chapter 4

     The elevator had been moving upward steadily for about an hour, or so the boy would have guessed, and it had stopped shaking long ago. The elevator shaft was bland concrete. He could have sworn that the texture was repeating. He thought of the strange girl. He didn't know what to feel. It was a strange mix of anger, sadness, and an overwhelming sense of betrayal. She seemed so sincere and kind. What part had she to play in this fever dream that was his life? What did she know?

     'I didn't even get her name,' he thought. He then wondered if she had told him her name, what would he have told her in return? He watched the repeating concrete go by as he pondered the question. 

     "I know. I'm going to name myself," he said aloud, partially to keep himself sane and to break the monotony. "Name...name..." the words faded. He compounded syllables together and rejected names he knew were common. He wanted something different. He felt like he was the only normal thing in this strange land. He wanted something that could make him fit in. 

     'Ruf-Rud-, something with an 'r',' he thought. 'R...Rubigo.' He pondered it for a bit and said it a few times in a murmur. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue. He had mixed feelings about it. 'Oh well,' he thought. 'I can always change it I suppose.'

     At that thought, the sound of metal clanging and what sounded like pumps crossed his ears. After another minute, the bottom of an opening came into view through the elevator bars. Rubigo blinked multiple times to ensure it wasn't just him getting tired. He got up and lost his balance a bit. He had gotten too used to the motion of the elevator and it was slowing down. 

     He heard a click as the elevator stopped. A pale blue light poured into the car and clashed with the orange-yellow light shown above. He reached for the handle of the exit and pulled it slowly left, making a screeching noise as it moved. He stepped forward and saw a huge gear towering over him, and spinning slowly. It was maybe a few stories tall and its teeth showed cuts and wear, presumably from long use. Far in the distance above him sat a mist, which pale blue light pierced through. He couldn't tell if the structure he was in had a ceiling out of view or if he was in some kind of ravine. 

     He looked in front of him and saw that the mist was obscuring his view. He could see that the metallic plating under his feet extended forward and cut 90 degrees inwards, and the  90 degrees forwards again. Metal bars line what he presumed to be an edge. 

     He approached. His feet compressed the loose sheets under his feet. In the distance; light danced off of more gears that came into view. Some were circular and large while others were cylinders that spun like a barbershop sign. Their placement appeared almost random and futile. He pondered what they must be pushing or pulling. His hand gripped the bars. The cold of the metal surprised him. 

     He gazed down, and much like the ceiling above, he could not see the floor below. Only a thick cloud of ivory mist beckoned from the abyss below. A sudden fear of heights, or of falling, rather, nestled into his conscious. He leaned over and spat. He saw the saliva disappear from his vision. He looked back up from his muse and looked down a sort of bridge that cut through the fog and disappeared. He approached its base; knowing it was the only way forward. 

     It was narrow and contained no supporting bars. He considered crawling forward for stability, but he didn't want to spend any more time here than necessary. He pushed one foot down on the bridge and it didn't budge. He then slammed his foot on it three times. The loud stomps blasted from their origin but failed to sway the bridge. He took another step and sprung his arms out from both sides. He flapped them slightly with each revolving step.

     His eyes were fixed on his feet but he could hear that rotary sound coming closer. He stopped and let his arms fall to his sides. In front of him spun a huge gear matching the one he first saw. The face of each peg appeared from just below the bridge, nearly tapping it, and wrapped up and beyond his view.