Beneath The Dirt | Ryden | Short Story Completed

Beteedi

Upon opening his eyes, Brendon awakes in a much nicer, warmer bed, with multiple expensive blankets, but no Ryan. He looks around quickly, in search for Ryan, or Dallon even. Maybe Spencer? He's only greeted by the familiar light blue walls of his bedroom at home. Had his captors just returned him? Where had they gone?

"Hello?" Brendon called out to his own room, which he had no recollection of returning to. The doorknob on his door slowly turns, and his eyes focus on it, his fingers gently crossed, hoping for Ryan to open the door and tell him they brought him back home, now, but it's alright, Ryan's here too. He so desperately want sit to all be alright. The door slowly creaks open, and from behind it stands his unhappy looking mother.

"What?" Brendon whispers, almost on the verge of tears. "Hello, son. Would you like me to explain why you're here?" His mother calmly asked, with both hands in a fist laid on her hips, which is how you know she's really angry.

"Very much so, mother," Brendon politely admits, sitting up slowly, thinking back to the disappearance of his only friends he had so recently made.

"You were brought back home by the police, Brendon. They said they found you, passed out, in some ditch out in BTD woods!"

"Beteedi?" Brendon asks, hope slowly filling his chest.

"What? Oh, BTD, it stands for Beneath The Dirt, it's the name of the park- Brendon! This isn't the point! You were passed out! What the hell were you doing out there!" His mother rarely curses, and Brendon flinches at the volume of her voice.

"Oh," Brendon says quietly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Brendon says, his covers in a pool at his lap. He's no longer wearing the shirt Spencer lent him, but one of his own shirts, and pajama pants. No sweats with holes in the knees.

His mother groans in frustration. "I'll talk to your father, and we'll be back. Don't think you're getting out of this." She closes the door behind her, angrily.

Brendon quickly turns his head to the window beside his dresser. Getting up quickly, he pushes a wooden chair to the doorknob, in order to keep it shut. His mother never allowed a lock to be placed on it. Think of all the sinfully things Brendon could do, would there be a lock on his door.

He moved to the window, and unlocking it quickly, he swung one leg over it. His house only had one story, which was common in his neighborhood. He didn't have far to go. He swung his other leg over. Now, both his legs were in place, so he dropped down onto the hard, cold dirt. Taking one last look at his house, he turned and ran.

He ran as fast as he could, but he had no shoes, and only dressed in embarrassingly childish pajamas, he wasn't as fast as he wished. He tried to retrace his steps, if only he could remember the night better. It's almost as if they'd just appeared in the field.

Luckily enough, in Brendon's hometown, there were hundreds of tourists every few months who come down to witness whatever they find interesting about this town. Brendon found very little interesting about this town, when there was a, possibly, coexisting town beneath the dirt, in which Ryan and Dallon and Spencer lived. But because of these tourists, he was easily able to locate a large map-sign sort of poster, held together by a glass frame and wooden posts.

In the center it marked 'YOU ARE HERE' with a big, red star. Searching around the map, Brendon's eyes quickly found 'BTD Park' labeled as a 'quiet attraction' on the board. It was close. He turned to his left and continued running, his breath coming out hard and fast.

Eventually he hit a wall of coniferous pine trees, and he slowly pushed through them, ignoring the way they'd harshly scrape against his face. Once he was passed the rough line of trees, he picked up his pace again, although he found it pointless, since he didn't know exactly where to go.

The sun was beating down, heating up the forest. Luckily, Brendon was shields by the shade of the trees. He missed the winter-like weather that Beteedi had. He's that never cared much for the heat. Suddenly, there's a break in the dense pines.

Up ahead of him, there was a small field located in the opening of several tall pine trees which was completely illuminated, surely, by this time of day it had to be. The coniferous trees seemingly stayed in their place, heavy in their stance. Brendon felt like he was being pushed, though, pushed towards the center of the field. It wasn't in a sway, but in a hastily mumble of feet.

In the very center of the tall grassy field was a swirling black circle, omitting no sound, nor smell, barely visible in the light of day.