A Trio of Anomalies - The Quest for Paradise

CHAPTER 22 - FAIRYTALE MASHUP

Cold and imposing, the tile floors of the room rumbled just slightly, not enough for anyone outside to notice. The room was decked out with gold, the usual furniture of tables and chairs, but also more unconventional things such as a bowl of fruits, a pillow wrinkled from use, sheets and draperies contorted and folded so that they'd stand up like some sort of abstract sculpture. Indeed, the fire sorcerer was once again dazzled by the variety of golden objects he was tripping over, despite having turned into gold himself. He remembered the time Cackle turned him to stone as a way to threaten Nicholas, and compared to now they weren't unlike one another at all. He would describe it as a dreamless sleep, oblivious to not only the series of events that led to him sprawled on the floor of a Greek-styled room, but also the absolute nothingness people associate with death, and thus fear it. It was a peculiar experience for sure, and certainly not a pleasant one.

"Cole!" he called, the echoes of his voice sending a shiver down his spine, "Where are you? What is this place even?"

Immediately after he finished he had to cover his mouth to cough. It might as well be pitch black, and he quickly conjured a ball of flame, waving it around like a floating torchlight. The room smelt strongly of metal, and dust coated every inch exposed to the air, including the fire sorcerer just before his curse was lifted. He knew that just before he coughed he heard a scream from behind, yet turning around he was only met with more stacks of furniture.

"Help!" on one hand, he was glad that Nicholas was turned back as well. On the other hand, he would've given anything for him to say anything else.

"Hang on!" he called, picking up speed to get away from the cloud of dust, "I'm coming! Try and use your flashlight!"

"Jeez ... really? I'm ... right here!" Nicholas yelled as loud as he could, struggling with a coughing fit as he inhaled a huge cloud of dust, "I ... can't reach my phone!"

"Where?!" Nicholas wished he could slap his forehead, but both his arms were wedged in between rock hard golden pillows and cushions. It was only now he realised just how heavy gold could be, as he was growing sore and weary from tonnes of it crushing his back.

"Just ... go back to where you came from ..." he couldn't yell, for the dust was making it hard to breathe. From a tiny crevice in between a mountain of pillows he watched anxiously as a blurry blob in the distance ran here and there, occasionally directing the ball of flame right at the pile he was conveniently buried under, causing him to wince as the bright light pierced his black eyes. Realising that his friend was merely scrambling further away from where he was, and thus going into the negatives in his progress, he collected all his strength and pushed against the heavy metal as hard as he could, but after a while of fruitless wriggling around he could only lie still and watch Steve fumble around more, exhausted and aggravated. He was wheezing faintly, for he was too tired to even breathe, struggling to blink away beads of sweat rolling down his face.

"This will take a while, won't it?" he thought, feeling dejected. Should he start yelling again? He wasn't even sure where Steve was, for he could only see blackness out of the tiny crack barely preventing him from suffocation.

"Steve! I'm ... right here!" he yelled, choking on dust in between.

"I can't see you!" Steve called, and he could sense the dread in his voice, "Give me a landmark or something!"