Chapter Text
To Eight-Ai Caverns you may be bound,
In search of fortune in the ground.
Find the dying embers of our fire
To get your true heart’s desire.
Seven paces West-by-North West
Put your drill to the test.
You’d already committed the silly riddle to memory, why were you still clutching the stupid scrap of paper?
Every bone in your body ached. Your lungs burned with every breath you took. Oxygen just didn’t seem to be worth the effort anymore, and the gravity of the situation was finally starting to sink in.
Before you let yourself spiral into a panic attack, you decided to pause and think for the first (and possibly last) time in your life.
Maldo Keris. 57 miles deep. Treasure. The rest of your thoughts weren’t exactly legible. Slowly but surely, you decided to recite your little riddle to yourself. After three attempts, however, your riddle began to devolve into a stream of very detailed gibberish. The sound reverberates around the icy walls enclosing you. That wasn’t good. Soon enough, you’d start having insane thoughts, like an insane person. You’d eat your own hands, toes, and tongue. A far more advanced civilization would find you in the future and place your remains in a museum.
Exhibit A.
“The fragmented remains of an unknown treasure hunter found in the heart of Maldo Keris. How did this primitive creature reach such magnificent depths? What treasure was this intrepid interloper looking for? Our lone explorer, affectionately called: ‘Hungry Hungry Human,’ was found curled in a fetal position. Additionally, upon excavation, our explorer was discovered to be missing exactly nine toes and all ten fingers.”
Cause of Death: Loss of blood.
“After uncovering our explorer’s perfectly preserved stomach cavity, we can assume that self-cannibalizing practices may have still been a common coping skill employed during this time period.”
On that disturbing thought, your knees suddenly buckle and your face meets the ground enthusiastically. Your face, knees, and feelings hurt. You steal a peek at your current temperature readings. How in the fresh hell were you still alive? You shut your eyes hard enough to burn. Maldo. Fucking. Keris. It was killing you, but hey! At least you’d die doing what you did best…memorizing riddles.
You snicker to yourself at that last thought. All riddles deserve to die long slow deaths. Like you.
“Hey?” A mysterious voice shatters your train of thought, leaving behind a trail of warm breath in its wake.
“……Hello?” You barely manage to rasp out. Worst case scenario, this was all just a part of the whole “freezing-to-death-like-an-idiot” process. The death convulsions were sure to follow any second now.
All of a sudden, something begins to viciously rip off your thick outer garments. Annoyed, you reach out a hand and land a vicious punch against your attacker. You wanted your remains to be found and framed somewhere nice! Not digested by some mindless animal!
“Agh! Stop that!” There’s a few more shuffling noises before the voice continues. “Well. At least you’re awake. We’re already so close, just stay with me.” Soon, you feel a pair of blessedly warm hands firmly gather at the sides of your prone form. Thick wrappings begin to meticulously cover the planes of your body bit by bit.
You swear it feels like you’re getting…swaddled? Your mind is definitely regressing to your days as an infant. You studied this kind of thing at school. It’s a defense mechanism that your brain has cooked up to retain some semblance of sanity in your last moments. It’s all very interesting stuff.
Oh, well. Time to die-
“Save your breath, okay? This should warm you up in a tick. We’ll go back to base camp…” The voice you’ve conjured up breaks off, calmly detailing a fantasy rescue plan with warm food awaiting on a lovely magical ship called, The Mantis. What a silly name for a ship.
You can feel the cozy wrappings around your body grow tighter, binding you soundly in their intoxicating warmth. Your eyes are still stubbornly shut throughout the whole process. You aren’t keen on making eye contact with whatever is wrapping you up in real life. Yep. You’re getting all webbed up now. These warm wrappings are actually knobby white ice spider-web silk. The spider will probably take you to its nest, liquefy your insides, feed you to its monstrous offspring, and then-
“I promise I won’t let a spider mom feed you to her hungry spider babies. She’ll just have to find food elsewhere.” The mysterious voice begins to rudely chuckle at your very secret inner thoughts. You change your mind. This hallucination is nasty and inconsiderate. Laughing at your misfortune like that. Lying to you. In a fit of anger, you decide to open your eyes to glare at the stupid spider that has you in her clutches.
You begrudgingly acquiesce. The spider that is about to devour you must be a very talented weaver. Your entire face is cocooned in her thick silky wrappings, blinding you beautifully against her rows of razor sharp teeth. It’s a disturbingly sweet sensation despite your impending death.
With those last thoughts bouncing around your head, you finally close your eyes once and for all. You convince yourself that it’ll be the best sleep you’ve had in ages. The soft trill of laughter remains at the edges of your consciousness though. It seems like it’ll never leave your side.
A lovingly rude hallucination, indeed.