[TALE] Stranger I
It was their faces that disturbed me the most. Though I had trudged the endless concrete maze for what felt like years, and had grown sick of the mere sight of the ever-gray sky, it was their faces that first told me that something was very wrong. They were neither disfigured nor grotesque, but instead they hid a dull senseless malice behind their eyes. After I had first seen it, it was impossible to ignore. I began seeing it everywhere, the distinct features of every individual face overshadowed by the dull malice until every single face looked the same. The concrete maze was teeming with these faces, a sea of glaring eyes that could drown a soul in their spite. And for what felt like years I saw nothing but the concrete and the faces and the flat gray sky that held no promise of life.
So I learned to keep my eyes down, to float along with the glaring creatures without raising suspicion, without offending the incomprehensible sensibilities of the staring herd. I repeated the same motions they did, nonsensical rituals performed in every crevice of the maze for some inscrutable purpose. I put my hands where I was told to, repeated the empty words that were said to me and kept a meticulous archive of meaningless scribbles that seemed very important to the faces.
At the end of every day, the mouths would blather and the eyes would glare, but I could never understand what they wanted of me. I was sent on my way through the labyrinth, putting on my best act of the same dull malice so as to not attract the scowling attention of the faces. Then the day would end in darkness and loneliness, a respite and a torment, until all began anew in the gray lifeless dawn.
For some time I had managed to blend in well enough among the faces, but after seeing what hid behind their eyes I grew increasingly uneasy in their presence. I felt as if I had to hide, as if I was always under scrutiny by the glaring eyes and constantly being reprimanded by the blathering mouths. I began to slip up, small things which made the faces turn and scowl in unison.
The sideways glances grew more frequent, the frowning brows and pursed lips pointing at me like loaded guns. The ire of the faces evoked a sickening terror in me that grew with each passing stare. My mask had begun to crack, and it was with the finality of death that I realized that the faces would soon know. And so I hurried more anxiously through the labyrinth, fleeing to who-knows-where. When the mask finally broke, I ran. Like a frightened animal I ran, harried by the howling faces.
*
Sweat poured from my aching muscles as I slammed against another door, pulling at it ferociously. It was locked, and I cursed the damnable thing under my haggard breath. My howling pursuers were closing in on me, but no matter where I ran in the narrow gray halls I was thwarted by door after door that refused to let me escape. The voices were now a cacophony of hatred that echoed around every corner, and behind me grew a tangle of shadows on the cold gray walls. I kept running, desperation turning into despair as my doom closed in on me in the bowels of the concrete maze.
I staggered around a final corner, and with my last quivering steps I threw myself towards the door, hoping that I had at last found the way out. But the door did not budge. I was cornered, an aching pile of flesh pounding feebly at a door and croaking curses that went unheard among the shrieks that echoed down the hall. With my last rasping breaths, I pleaded against all sense and reason that the door would open.
And suddenly it did.
But when I saw what stood behind the door my heart sank with abject dread, for standing behind the door was another face. I nearly resigned myself to death at that moment, but then I saw it. Framed by a mane of wheat-blonde hair was a face devoid of the dull malice, the face of a young woman. It was the first real face I had seen in the concrete maze, and I was taken aback by that realization.
I wanted to speak to her, to pour my questions onto her, to get some kind of answer. But another shriek echoed down the corridor behind me, and curiosity faded away underneath the animal need to escape. I darted past her, blonde hair brushing my face, and sped down the flight of stairs behind her. I gave her one last knowing glance in my wild retreat, a glance with the weight of the world behind it.
I rushed down the stairs like a madman, the echoing of my footsteps drowning out the shrieking of the faces above. At last I reached another door, and to my amazement it was unlocked. Panting and gasping, I stumbled out onto one of the myriad walkways that ran between concrete towers. I had no idea where I was, for the whole labyrinth looked the same – twisting corridors and narrow streets, long flights of stairs and walkways stretching among the towers. And so I kept running.
Over the walkway and into the opposite tower, through more empty corridors, up more flights of stairs and out onto more walkways. It was an endless sprint through the bowels of the maze, bowels which were now eerily silent save for my panting breaths and booming footsteps. Where the faces had gone I did not know, nor did I care. I would run like this forever if it only meant I could escape their senseless hatred, their blind malice, their blathering and their staring.
The uncanny emptiness of the maze saw its end on one of the walkways below me, for in the darkening haze of the gray sky I could see how the faces marched in silence. I hid from them, cowered on my ledge above them and hoped they would pass by without noticing me. But when I saw the wheat blonde hair waving amongst the faces, and saw the look of quiet dignity in that sea of stupidity and hatred, I could not bring myself to cower anymore. Here was a debt unpaid, and I could not let the faces end the only other person in the world.
*
My voice echoed among the towers like thunder. It was a single shout of defiance that sped down the concrete canyon formed by the towers, falling upon the walkways like a bird of prey. All the anger and fear I felt at the faces and their stupid, senseless hatred was channeled into that one roar. The faces turned and hissed in unison to look at the hated one above them, and among them was a single golden head that looked up in surprise. The whole mass of faces broke into a frenzied, shrieking mob that poured out from their walkway and into the towers to chase after me.
I did not stay to watch them hunt, but ran into the tower in front of me to continue my escape. One final glance over the side, and I saw the blonde hair disappear among the flurry of faces.
I heard the shrieks echo all around me in the dark corridors. But this time, I felt no fear. I had evaded the faces before, and I knew what I was doing. I had to send them on a wild goose chase through the towers, hoping that the young woman would escape amidst the chaos. So down the corridors and side passages I went, stopping now and then to shout through air vents, bang on doors and hurl debris down stairways to confuse my pursuers. I kept one step ahead of the howling mass, but soon enough I could hear how their screams came closer and closer. It was time to think of my own escape, and I raced down a long hallway that stretched far into the distance.
I could hear the shrieking disappear behind me, when to my horror I saw in the flickering light ahead of me shadows coming my way from around the corner. Stopping dead in my tracks, I realized with a sinking dread that I was trapped. There were no side passages to escape into, and my pursuers were coming at me from both ends of the hallway. At least the debt was paid, I thought, as I came to accept the inevitable.
That was when I saw, in a brief moment of flickering light, a small maintenance hatch in the floor before me. Thoughtlessly, I threw myself onto my knees next to the hatch, trying to pry it open with my fingers. Deep inside of me, there was only the pounding of blood and the desperate hope that the hatch would open.
As the howling tore through the dark hallway, I finally managed to open the hatch. Beyond it there was only darkness, yet I threw myself into the abyss without hesitation. My feet found no ground in the darkness, and as I fell I heard the hatch close above me. Swallowed in pitch blackness, I slammed into the hard concrete below, leaving me gasping for air. Seconds later, I heard a thousand footsteps clatter on the metal hatch above me. Then there was only silence.
*
A sharp noise shattered the silence.
Ever since I had fallen into the tangle of dank, narrow passages that ran throughout the concrete structure, I had been trying to find a way out. I had crawled in darkness and silence for what had felt like hours, sliding over cables, brushing away cobwebs and gingerly crossing over vertical shafts that, for all I knew, could have reached into the core of the earth. The musty, wet air had seeped into my clothing and coated my skin until all I could feel was a clammy sense of claustrophobia. When I saw the pale slivers of light through the grating at the far end of the passage, I felt such relief at finally being out of these stale catacombs.
But then a sharp noise shattered the silence, and I heard that it was the scream of a young woman.
I hurried down the passage as fast as I could, pulling myself along the smooth wet concrete like an injured dog. Of all the passages I had crawled through, this felt like the longest. Every moment dragged on as I heard the deranged howling of the faces somewhere in the distance. But at last I reached the source of the light, and seeing that it was a grated ventilation hatch, I began pushing at it with all my might.
It barely budged. I had to slam my body into it for it to move at all, and each slam echoed throughout the room on the other side. Whatever was on the other side would surely hear the commotion, but I had no choice. I had to get to her before the faces.
When the hatch finally broke, it was with a deafening clatter. Sharp fluorescent light blinded me, my eyes having adjusted to the darkness. I blinked furiously through the pain and the tears, and through the glare I could see a small tiled room. In the center of the room was a pair of terrified eyes, framed by a mane of wheat-blonde hair.
I dragged the woman into the vent, hoping that we could hide among the tangle of passages until the faces had passed us. Once again I pulled myself furiously along the wet concrete, cursing at the distance we had to crawl until we could disappear into the first branching passage. The sound of the approaching mob thundered in our chest and through the passage, sounding like crashing waves. They would soon be here, attracted by the ruckus of the falling hatch.
We made it into the side passage just when the howling mob passed by like a stampede through the corridor beyond the tiled room. There were hundreds of them, a gray tide of claws and snarling faces ready to tear us apart. But just as fast as the mob had thundered towards us, they were gone. The woman and I breathed a sigh of relief when, framed by the opening, a sallow face appeared with hatred in its eyes.
The creature shrieked with unhinged jaws before throwing itself into the vent and crawling towards us with frightful speed. In a blind panic, I raced forward as fast as I could on my bruised knees, pulling myself and the woman around corners and squeezing past cables and machinery. It was a mad flight – I had no idea where I was or where we were going. All was pitch black darkness and hard surfaces, and terror at the sound of scraping claws behind us.
Though we were as fast as we could be, the slobbering creature came closer and closer to us in the sickening confinement of the dark passage. My whole being was reduced to pounding heartbeats, and I screamed in frustration as the way out of this hell kept eluding us.
Suddenly I felt a draft of fresh air from one of the side passages. I did not think twice before scrambling towards it with what strength I had left. If before my crawling had been desperate, now it was absolutely bestial. I snarled and panted, pulled and tugged. The woman was close behind me, pulling herself along when I outpaced her and pushing me forward when I slowed down. We crashed into another ventilation hatch, and the moment after we heard the creature shrieking behind us.
I slammed my body against the hatch again and again, the woman adding her strength to mine. With a loud crack the hatch was ripped off the wall and sent flying away, but there was no room on the other side as I had expected. Instead, the vent opened out into thin air. I was sent hurtling down a dark chasm together with the hatch!
But something stopped me from falling to my death. The woman, with unusual strength, had grabbed hold of my coat at the last minute and managed to drag me back to safety within the vent. I clung to her like a frightened child, shivering, heart pounding – but another shriek from the creature broke through my terror, and with all of my resolve I forced myself out onto a narrow ledge that ran beneath the vent. Moments later, the woman joined me.
She had barely crawled out of the vent when she let out a horrified scream. Our pursuer had grabbed hold of her long blonde hair, hissing as he pulled her back into the vent. Still jittery, I grabbed hold of the creature’s sallow arm, my other hand feebly clinging to the fixture where the hatch had been. The woman tugged away with her head, freeing herself and leaving long strands of golden hair that coiled around the claws of the hissing monster. It turned its hideous face towards me, baleful eyes burning with violence. But before it could act, I felt the adrenaline surging through my limbs as I hurled the creature out of the vent.
It shrieked in fear and anger as it fell into the darkness below, then all was silent once more.
*
Night had fallen over the maze, and the walkways glittered with pale streetlights. All was still and quiet. Though we surveyed the walkways from our vantage point, we could not see any faces about. Despite being terrified and spent, we resolved to keep moving while the coast was clear. This was much easier said than done, for the passage we had crawled through opened out on a sheer concrete wall and save for the narrow ledge that ran along the wall there was no place for us to go.
On the far end of the ledge, I could see what seemed like a tangle of steel wires. Though it was not clear in the darkness, they seemed like they might reach all the way down to street level. The woman had pointed them out, pushing at me to move towards them. But I was still frightened after almost falling to my death, and the ledge itself did not make me feel any safer. It was no wider than the length of my foot, and I had to hug the wall just to stand firm. But despite myself, I began to slowly shuffle towards the wires.
I was beyond thankful for the stillness of this night. Had it been a windy night, I am almost certain that I would have fallen to my death. As it was, we shimmied along on the ledge, hands scraping cold concrete as we inched our way forward in the darkness. We reached the wires without incident, and the woman climbed past me to pull at the wires, her blonde hair streaking across my face. Seeing that they could hold us, she climbed onto the wires with what seemed like a practiced movement and began to make her descent. I followed suit, trying not to think about the doom that awaited me should I slip.
And so we made our descent in the darkness, hanging perilously from a bundle of steel wires bolted into the unadorned concrete of a giant gray tower. Though we occasionally passed close enough to the walkways to climb onto them, we only stopped now and then to catch our breath. The further down we went, the darker it got as the tangle of walkways drowned out more and more of the pale streetlights. My hands were raw from climbing, and I was forced to tear strips of fabric from my shirt to wrap around my hands during one of our breaks. But despite the pain and the fatigue, we reached the bottom of the chasm unharmed and undiscovered.
The streets were as eerie and empty as the walkways were, but they were much more narrow and cramped. The air was stale and oppressive, filling me with unease. The woman did not seem to care, though, dragging me along by the hand into a filthy alleyway. There she found a manhole and with some effort we pried it open. A series of steel steps bolted into the concrete led down into the darkness. The woman motioned me to climb down into the manhole. The stench was unbearable, but before I could object a distant sound broke the stillness. Fearing the faces, I hurried down into the reeking hole.
If the air was oppressive at ground level, it was absolutely suffocating in the bowels of the sewers. Pale green lights showed the way, but the sewers were decrepit and neglected, with most of the lights having given up long ago. This forced us to travel long stretches through the wet and cramped tunnels in complete darkness. Foul sludge rose above my ankles, rats and worse running around my legs in the dark, but the woman seemed undeterred and hurried onwards with practiced nimbleness. I started to suspect that this woman had found her own way of living among the faces, hiding in some ungodly place from their scowling eyes.
We must have travelled the rest of the night through the sewers, for the first sign that we were coming to the end of our foul journey was a gray-blue light that came in slivers from down the tunnel. Coming closer, I saw that it was a large sewer grate with some of its bars bent outwards to form an opening. The woman squeezed through the opening and straightened herself in the morning twilight. I followed, stumbling through the narrow opening and tearing what remained of my tattered shirt on the rusted bars.
*
The air outside was fresh, with the scents of the ocean replacing the foul stench of the sewers. The sky seemed unusually bright, and I could see traces of blue among the clouds. The dull gray of concrete had been exchanged for a rocky shoreline, with the sounds of seagulls and crashing waves replacing the eerie silence of the maze. In the distance, standing against the dark blue waters, I saw an old lighthouse on a jutting rock. The woman smiled at me when she saw me looking at it. Without saying a word, she began walking towards it, skipping lightly over the rocky shore.
Perhaps it was the fatigue, or perhaps it was the haunting strangeness of all that had happened, but I felt as if in a dream when I saw the trailing golden hair streak across the rocks. The open sky and endless ocean were worlds apart from the cramped maze of halls and walkways where the faces dwell. Time seemed to move differently here, a soft humming rather than the fitful noise of panic and drudgery that was the time of the faces. Here you could breathe, and for the first time I walked with my eyes raised, my spirit reaching towards the horizon.
But still there was a mystery in her golden hair, which seemed to stretch behind her through open space and humming time. I could see it reach through green sewers and glittering walkways, through dark tunnels and under gray skies. It was like a thread of gold running from an open doorway in the bowels of the gray maze right to the door of this lighthouse.
The lighthouse itself was an old cylindrical tower of square-cut gray stone covered in algae. At its top was what looked like a glass cupola, cracked and grimy. It was clear to me that the lighthouse had not seen use in ages, a sentinel forgotten when the faces trapped the world in their concrete prison. All the metal fixtures that could be seen were rusted beyond recognition, a dull orange standing out from the green algae. The door was a heavy thing of wood, broken and rotten in some places.
The woman had left the door ajar, a small arched opening in the thick stone that lead into the darkness where the golden hair had went. A faint sweet smell came from inside. I ducked my head under the arch and entered into a dark vestibule. Light was shining through the seams of a thick hanging, and I moved it aside to enter into the heart of the tower.
The colors of the room poured over me like roiling waves, and a thousand things I had never seen before stood out in the dim light. The room was a large circular space with a staircase that spiraled up along the wall. The walls were filled with paintings and hangings, showing scenes of birds and jungles, ships and seas, forests and animals, deserts and temples. Many crates from places I had never heard of stood stacked here and there in the room, with curious shining cylinders of colored paper on top of them. These cylinders stood around kerosene lanterns, and it was from them that the visual cacophony of color came.
Every nook of the room had its own shadow that played in the dim light of its own colored lantern. There were stacks of strange books in languages I did not recognize upon which lay crystals and precious stones in deep blues and purples. Shelves overflowing with little figurines, strange instruments, carved bowls, obscure tools and other knick-knacks dominated the sides of the room. But it was to the center of the room that the golden hair led me.
Sitting on a pile of pillows that surrounded a small table was the woman. On the table in front of her was a pile of matches, some spent, and a large metal pot with a lid from which came the sweet scent that I had smelled at the entrance. She smiled when I approached. When I sat down on the pillows on the other side of the table, I could see that strange carvings covered the pot. It vaguely resembled a head, and in each of the four directions was carved a face. The one which was turned to me resembled a comedic mask, with an exaggerated smile through which poured the incense.
It was then, for the first time since we had met, that the woman spoke. She told of strange lands, of who she was and where she had found all her oddities and knick-knacks. But despite my fascination for her, despite wanting to know more about this first real person I had ever seen among the faces, I found myself slipping into a daze. Her words seemed to struggle to reach me through the smoke, and I heard them like a man about to fall asleep. They were hollow and distorted, and bit by bit the colors of her room faded away in the smoke.
My last thought before she disappeared was that I had not even seen her eyes, and now it was too late. The last I saw of her was her golden hair, which stood out long after I had forgotten all about the faces and the maze, our escape and the lighthouse. A golden strand of her hair was all that remained when I opened my eyes to the morning light of a new dream, with its own maze and its own faces.