REX [WattyAwards2015]

chapter vii :: rex

No light. There was no light. The darkness was so heavy it was suffocating. The air was empty and the ground was solid. The temperature was hot and damp, making an unbearable environment for any living creature.  It was then a surprise to Jack to awake and find himself breathing.

With a sharp gasp, Jack's eyes opened and his body jerked to life. Air plummeted into his dry lungs and blood rushed violently through his veins.  His head throbbed from the fall or impact he had mysteriously experienced and his hands quaked from massive bruising.  Lifting his upper half off the ground, Jack sat up and looked out into the silent darkness.

He couldn't see anything. Not even shadows. He turned his head in every possible direction, but the scenery was the same. Figuring he could stand up, Jack pushed up from the floor, only to receive a jolting bang on the back of his head. Pain shot through his body and his hands gave out from underneath him.

Panicked, Jack flipped over onto his back and reached up to touch the air above him. But instead of emptiness, his fingers found the ceiling. Jack's fist balled and his situation began becoming clear. Still lying down, he reached out with his feet, searching for a boundary. It only took him to stretch out his leg to find the length of his confinement.

Holding his breath, he reached his arms over and behind his head. But unlike his legs, there was no freedom for his arms. They found a wall before the elbows could extend fully.

"Nigel?" Jack called out. He suddenly felt afraid. He struck the ceiling. "Nigel!" He was pounding the ceiling now, fighting against its dead weight. But nothing changed. Holding back the swelling tears, Jack flipped over onto his stomach and tucked his arms beneath his chest. He could feel his heart pulsing. He could hear his breath, exhausted and short.

Placing his palms against the ceiling, he tried the inevitable.  Blinking the sweat from his eyes, he held his breath, and began surging all his strength to his shoulders.  He could feel the power building in his shoulders and neck, feeding some hope to his mind.  Gritting his teeth, he pushed upwards. But the solid concrete did not move, in fact, it felt like it was pushing against him.

Straining against the weight, Jack finally gave up and his arms fell to the side. The ceiling, however, did not stop.  Terrified, Jack flung his arms up again and barricaded himself from the moving concrete with just raw strength.

"Stop! Please, stop this!" Jack screamed. He could feel his arms weakening and the ceiling was so close to him he had to turn his face flat against the floor. His muscles shook, his nerves stiffened, and his bones ached. He had never imagined death to be so alive. "Stop this!"

And just like a snap of the fingers, the ceiling stopped. It didn't raise, but it didn't lower, and that was all Jack was thankful for.

"Jack."

Jack's breath stopped and he listened to the silence.  He thought he heard something, but he wasn't sure.

"Jack." It was closer this time, but not louder.

"Hello?" Jack strained to see through the darkness, but it was impossible -- he couldn't even make out a shape in the dark.

"Jack."

Shifting his body, Jack situated himself so that, if he was still enough, the movement of his clothes wouldn't distract him. He waited for the voice to speak, but nothing emerged from the darkness. Swallowing, Jack tilted his head a little more so that his ear closest to the ceiling had room to hear.

It was strange. The words that were spoken were not in the English language, yet, somehow Jack understood them. And the tone was nothing human. It was deep, robotic and haunting.

"Jack."

"Yes?" Jack looked around, wondering if responding was what he was expected to do.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and Jack couldn't help but scoff. He must have been hearing things. He was about to return to lying down before a flood of startling images consumed his mind. Flashes of Nigel appeared in his mind over and over again, like a record he couldn't stop. They were visions of his friend in pain; tortured, maimed, and disfigured. He heard crying, yelling, and screaming. Jack tried to hide from the reel of terror, but he couldn't move. The concrete box forced him to remain still.

The visions of Nigel rang more fear in his body than when he had first discovered he had been trapped. He hated seeing his friend covered in blood, the confusion and anger swimming in Nigel's brown eyes was enough to make Jack sick. And then, like the pulling of a curtain, a dark mass washed over the scene and the silence returned. Closing his eyes, Jack found the silence strangely acceptable. But it also made him wonder what was going to happen next.

Collecting himself, Jack opened his eyes. But instead of seeing darkness, he was greeted with six red orbs. Gasping, he struggled to shield himself. His arm swung up to cover his eyes, but his elbow met the ceiling with a painful slam, preventing him from hiding. Jack lowered his arm and looked up. The orbs were still there, but also, an outline. It was the first time since he had been stuck in the concrete box was he finally able to see more depth and structure. Squinting, the figure became clearer and he saw something he had once read about when he was years younger.

His eyes traced the outline of a creature that possessed the power of a steam engine, the presence of a god, and the hate only bred by the Devil himself. Jack's body froze, paralyzed with fear. He couldn't move or speak if he wanted to. And when he attempted to open his mouth to talk, some invisible force screwed is jaw shut. Chills crawled up his spine and unseen shackles clamped down on his wrists and ankles, pinning him to the floor. He willingly allowed himself to be captured, knowing he had no more fight left in him.

The last thing Jack saw was the monstrous creature hovering over him. He could tell that there wasn't one head, but three. The jaws of each head were thick and squared. The fangs could be seen through the curled lips and silvery ropes of saliva hung like dying vines. There was one body, though, built like a bull dog's. The shoulders rippled with muscles and the rotund sides curved inward around the large ribcage. A tail, strong and steady, swung behind the powerful hindquarters like a watchful serpent. It was nothing Jack had ever seen, but something told him that whenever he would return to higher grounds, he would see the monster again.