The grass was whispering with a subtle but noticeable rhythm. Its voice was soft and light, but from time to time, a screech tore through the tranquility. Nathaniel was tottering forward in a trance. His step were light, and he was wobbling in congruence with the rhythm of the forest. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his mouth was wide open. It’s been a while since the last time he heard a frightening scream. He forgot about it already.
A screech resonated across the fields. The rabbits submerged themselves under the sea of flowers. The flowers withered. Nathaniel fell to the floor. He covered his ears, pressed harder. He wanted to stop hearing the noise, but it only redoubled.The morose field was dying. Cracks formed in all directions, and its gathering point was Nathan himself. He saw the fissures gather at his feet. When the noise ceased, the floor gave in. A huge crater opened like a mouth from underneath his feet. He fell, swallowed.
He crawled. He couldn’t see. A silent creak come from his left. Nothing. He tried to touch his face. He wanted to rub his eyes. He couldn’t find them. His head was missing. He saw a spark. Out of it came his memories.
He remembered dragging out of the cave his comrade, who was mumbling something. Within the perplexing nonsense come a single word. It mean everything to him. It was a word of possibilities. Treasure.
“There is a treasure there!” A pathetic shriek devoid of any hope shook the darkness.
Nathaniel quivered in fear. He felt something coming in his direction. The darkness retreated into his mind as shallow rays of light emanated from everywhere.
He fell to the floor. He heard the stream. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs filled with water. He wrestled with the torrent which pulled him down. No matter how much vigor he could muster, he was helplessly pulled down. He was hypnotized by the muffled sound of water. He was dragged through a cave.
Faces flickered in the light. They smiled, showing their serrated teeth. When they closed in on him, he screamed. He was viciously pulled back again. His legs were tied as he zigzagged through the cave. He hit his head, and passed out.
He saw his cheap garments drenched in red as he woke up. The torch was the only thing that illuminated his way. He scaled the sandy bunk. On top, he heard a strident clamor coming from the depths of the darkness. He wandered onward, leaving behind a bloody trail. The unsteady sandy ground turned to rock. Within the shadows, a towering figure flickered in the light. He thought it was his imagination. He was frightened to the core.
His heart wasn’t beating, and he felt like a corpse.
His hands were cold.
He heard something respire, and a warm gust of air caressed his neck. He turned around. Nothing. He run ahead. But what was ahead? Losing his sense of direction, he was running, just running. Nothing more and nothing less. He wanted to escape, but how exactly is he going to accomplish that. He was led by purple flowers. He tripped, hitting his head.
Above him stood a monstrous figure that was born from his nightmares. The behemoth towered over him with a mace resting on his shoulder. He had red smears across many part of his body. His eyes were just a pair of two tiny black pupils. He had a long, thick shag with beads here and there.
Behind it was a chest.
A very ornamented one.
It had jewels and gold pouring out of the mouth.
He tried to crawl. The behemoth tightened the grip around his club.
Thanks for reading. For anyone who has read the previous one, this is somewhat of a continuation. The piece is very much surreal and it’s quite bizarre, but I must say that was my aim. I have included a link to the first one below just in case. I hope you enjoyed reading the story. Feel free to comment or make suggestions.