The "Men" Down Under

“Well, I’ve never seen one like that before.”

“I reckon nobody has. I mean, look at the thing.”

“I do believe I have read about something like this. What was it called…?”

“I’m hungry. Can we eat?” The other three members of the small party turned and looked at him.

“Dadgummit, how can you think about yer belly when we got ourselves such a fine specimen for our viewing pleasure?”

“It’s easy. I’m hungry. Can we please just go eat something?”

“Absolutely not! I forbid it. This is too rare an occasion. You’ll have to sacrifice food for a short while. You are the only one among us who has to—“He winced as I shot him a sharp glare.

“Could you please just let us watch a bit longer? We’d appreciate it.”

“Yeah, I guess… How long do I hafta wait?”

“Only a few more minutes more. Thank you.” I flashed a smile at him, and then turned on my companion. “We decided that we weren’t going to tell him,” I whispered tersely. “What the bumf were you thinking?”

“The insufferable half-wit can’t—“I slapped him hard across the cheek, sending his glasses off his face and onto the dry, cracked ground. A look of shock was plastered on his face. “I apologize. I lost my head a bit. I will keep a closer watch on my temper and my tongue.”

“Thank you.” I bent down and picked up his glasses, dusted them off, and handed them to him. “You know why he’s here. It’s easier for us all if he doesn’t really know what we are.” He nodded.

“Would you two quit dinkin’ around and look at this thing?”

We walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked down into the gorge below. The beast was tantalizing. It had legs too long for its round body, and a neck to match it. Its wings looked rather uselessly small; there was no way they could support its weight. Its feathers were an ugly brown color. We had seen a few birds before, but this one was singularly peculiar. Back in those days, we always stopped to watch the birds. It seems a bit silly now but to us, then, it was a treat.

(You must understand that animals rarely wander down into the Underplaces. Terrestrial animals, the ones who walk on the ground, were more common. Especially the more stupid ones like the cows. We always had cows down there. You can smell it, if you ever have the misfortune of going there yourself.)

Anyways, we were all enthralled by this lanky, awkward bird when this was said: “I’m gonna ride it.” We looked at him with a mixture of ‘that’s a funny joke’ and ‘are you an idiot?’ (He got the latter of these looks far too often for it to be funny. It was more sad than funny.) “I don’t care what y’all think of it, I’m doin’ it!” And with that, he leapt off the precipice and landed lightly on the ground far below.

“This is surely going to spell trouble for us, isn’t it?” my scholarly companion asked.

“It always does with him…” I answered despairingly.

“Ooh, I wanna ride it too!” The child said.

“No!” We both shouted. “You’re uh… much too small to ride a big thing like that, little one. Perhaps one day when you’re older.”

“Yeah,” I offered, “Also… he’s an idiot. You don’t want to be an idiot. Trust me.”

“Aww… You guys never let me have any fun,” he pouted.

“Listen, how about after Uncle gives up trying to ride that bird-thing, we get you some food. Sound good?” He nodded, but kept his angry face on and his arms folded. I turned back to watch the unfolding spectacle.

He glided slowly over to the bird, not risking the sound of footfall. When he was about 20 feet away it twisted its neck and looked straight at my companion, who we called “Uncle” for the benefit of the child. Uncle stopped moving altogether, showing no signs of life. Its body twisted around to face forward. It looked at him stupidly for what seemed like a long while. Then it emitted a strange half-honk, half-shriek sound and flapped its stubby wings. It sounded like it was speaking the language of the Fifth Circle. Uncle stayed perfectly still. Soon, it got bored and the awful noise stopped. Uncle resumed his snail’s pace movement toward the bird. It only tilted its head to the other side. Uncle kept moving forward. Suddenly, the bird’s neck went stiff and it honk-shrieked once more, and then started off on a run away from Uncle.

“Blasted thing! I was this close!! I coulda—“And then we realized the bird wasn’t running from Uncle. The ground began shaking violently, and the temperature started spiking.

I quickly turned to the child, nodded at my companion, and said urgently to the child, “It’s time to leave.”

“Where are we going this time?” He whined.

I thought quickly and replied, “We promised you food, remember? Now, let’s get going.”

The child issued a scream of joy, to which my companion quipped, “’Now’ being the operative word.”

“What about Uncle?” I had almost forgotten completely.

I glanced down the ravine. Cracks were already starting to appear, the pressure under the surface growing. Uncle was racing down the ravine as he spotted us and shouted, “What in the Seventh Circle are you two thinking?! Get out of here!!”

“Uncle’s going to meet us there, okay? Come on, let’s hurry.”

“But I wanna go with Uncle!” He folded his arms in defiance. His attachment to Uncle had become a hindrance. A burst of steam released from the ground a ways off. They would soon be everywhere.

My companion and I moaned in frustration. “Uh… umm… Ah! It’s a race! We’re racing Uncle! Come on, we can’t let him win!” With that, the child gasped and started running off in the same direction Uncle did. We sighed out of relief briefly, and then took off after the child.

The steam geysers were getting more frequent. We had to get to Sanctuary quickly, or we’d be done for. I wasn’t sure the child would make it. The temperature was already hotter than a summer’s day at high noon. He was panting heavily and sweating profusely. We encouraged him to keep running. His stamina was quite impressive for that of a young human.

After the ground sloped downward, we were on the same elevation with Uncle, but he was still behind us a little ways. I looked back at him then told the child, “Uncle’s catching up to us! Run faster!”

“Clever, no?” My companion remarked to Uncle, not too far behind us now.

He laughed. “Yessir, that’s using your noodle.” I smiled to myself at the wittiness of my motivating deception. I turned back to offer a small thanks for the praise, and stopped.

Uncle was gone. A crack in the ground was coming toward us, and I spun and started running again. “Teacher,” I called quietly, as to keep the child out of earshot. “Teacher!” My academic companion turned his head. “Sohrenzael,” I mouthed. His brow furrowed in confusion; the language of demons wasn’t easy to lip read. “Uncle,” I mouthed exaggeratedly. Recognition spread across his features, which he quickly wiped off and replaced with determination. Facing forward, he picked up his pace. He passed the child, who responded by putting his head down and pushing his body to its limits to keep up with my only remaining companion.

We turned sharply down a narrow ravine in the dark blue wall of rock. As it widened, Sanctuary began to materialize in front of us. It was still a hazy shimmer; we were only passing through its outer barrier, but the temperature was dropping almost as quickly as it had risen. We were almost to safety. We were going to make it.

The child’s pace began to slow noticeably. “Don’t quit now, we’re almost there!” I shouted.

“I… I can’t… can’t go… any farther…” he panted. We were so close, within a hundred yards now.

“Come on!!” I yelled, anger filling my voice. If he were to die, it would spell disaster for Teacher and me. And here? So close to safety? The irony was too much for me to bear. Maybe we’d find Uncle again in our new Circle. Or maybe, he met a luckier Fate. “Don’t make Uncle’s death meaningless!”

Horror spread across the child’s face. “Uncle…” he breathed out. I started to swear, but was interrupted by a loud, sharp roar as part of the ravine wall was torn out and started to fall on us.

“Go, now!!” I yelled. The child scrambled up to his feet and began running awkwardly, regaining his balance as he moved. I moved quickly, but the rock moved quicker and fell almost directly on top of me.

I kept running, hoping the child didn’t witness that. We were close. Teacher had already made it inside Sanctuary, behind the inner barrier, hiding him from view. The child was close behind. I sighed in relief as a burst of heat seared across my back, slicing through my being, turning my sigh into a shriek.

The rockslide had created another crack, which had swallowed me in the most intense heat imaginable. But at least it was within the realm of imagination. It could’ve been worse. Much worse.

I now was being pulled into the Void between the Circles. I looked around and saw nothing. The heat dissipated as I left the Third Circle behind and entered the Void, but dread took its place. What new terrors and torments awaited me below were beyond anything I could possibly hope to imagine.