Shifting Tunnel

Subject: Mia | Classif.: Barzakh

The wooden pencil danced on the stage that was Mia’s hand. Gliding from knuckle to knuckle. Twirling around her digits. Pirouetting on top of her palm. Each move transitioned into one another, smooth as silk. It had almost become a ritual at this point. Every time she gained a new form, she had to test what her new body could do.

Her current, teenage self was unlike any of her previous transformations. It was not gained through observation, but imagination. The idea of what she’d look like as a 14-year-old. Taller, stronger, while still maintaining the dexterity of her eight-year-old body. At least, that was the extent of what she could gather just from spinning stationery in the front passenger seat of the car.

While most gangsters she could transform into were bigger and stronger, they were also unfit. Fat was useful for staving off the cold or cushioning a fall, but that was about it. The few female forms she had were also not ideal. Pitstoppers were too reliant on guns to the point that physical fitness became an afterthought.

Of course, turning into Lynn was an option as well. And given how she was built like a war goddess, Mia guessed it would be the best balance between speed and strength. But she hadn’t found a good chance to confirm that theory. That Immortal sitting in the backseat had her eyes glued on her from the very first time they met till now. And Mia didn’t even need to guess how the prideful princess would react to seeing her doppelganger. The hassle wouldn’t be worth it.

Thankfully, she hasn’t made any comments about her 14-year-old form. Judgmental gazes here and there, but those were nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, they were the exact kinds of looks someone on their high horse would give.

“Hmph,” Lynn scoffed.

As expected, Princess Pretentious was judging her pencil spinning the whole time, the reaction only coming out when she made a mistake. Mia bent down to pick up the fallen pencil, only for her head to nearly bump into the glovebox as the car came to a sudden halt.

“Ah, sorry Mia,” her Dad blurted. “Another dead end…”

Peering over the dashboard, she saw yet another cave-in. Dirt and cement filled up the tunnel like a squib-loaded gun barrel. With the headlights shining on the obstruction, not even a single gap could be seen. If this were an artery, there would be an instant heart attack.

“This is trying my patience,” Lynn complained. “I’ll move it all aside.”

Tim replied, “Don’t. These tunnels are old. One wrong move and we’re just asking for trouble.”

“You dare doubt MY skill?”

“I doubt we’re alone here. And whatever’s causing these cave-ins would much rather we mind our own business.”

“... Coward.”

“Mia.” Tim completely ignored her. “Can you mark this again?”

She nodded, taking the exercise book from the car door pocket and flipping to a page near the end. Originally meant for her homeschooling, the page has been turned into a makeshift map. Crudely-drawn lines twist and bend on the pages. After thinking for a bit, Mia drew an “X” on one of the many branches of this sketched maze.

The car backed up, making a three-point turn to readjust its course back on the main path. As the pencil in her hand returned to spinning, Mia squinted her eyes, her vision landing on the tunnel walls. The entire space around the vehicle felt off. The passageway did not feel like it was meant for just getting from point A to point B. The way these roads twisted and branched—it was as if the people who made this wanted to avoid bumping into something. Something inside the ground.

Another divergence. Another dead end. The number of Xs she marked on the book rose like the unease spreading all over her skin. The paths weren’t just splitting more often; they were also changing in terms of elevation.

Worse still, some of the paths they took looped around, dead ends cutting off potential routes. The uniform lights along the walls only made the maze more liminal. All the hairs on her skin seemed to agree, standing up, unable to pinpoint exactly what was wrong with it all. She could only trust her Dad knew where he was going, because she sure as hell didn’t.

After what felt like the hundredth cave-in she encountered, Mia reached for the book, only to be stopped by him.

“This is the one,” he said. “Lynn, could you do the honors?”

The Immortal sniggered. The sound she made felt like she was saying, “Finally!” Getting out of the vehicle, she stretched her muscles a bit, sore from sitting for so long. When she put her hand against the obstacle, she froze.

Mia couldn’t make out exactly what she was doing, but it seemed like she was “feeling” her way through the earth. The same way someone would stick their hand into a murky pail of water, looking for a cloth rag hiding somewhere at the bottom. Only this time, Lynn was using her palm like some kind of underground antenna, the earth communicating with her in a language only the two of them spoke.

After a few seconds of the princess remaining motionless, the tunnel shook. Loose dirt from the ceiling streamed down like spaced-out waterfalls. A hole formed in the obstruction, Lynn’s hand at the center. The edges of the blockage, connected to the tunnel walls, began to shrink, sucked into the soil all around. And as the earth folded more and more within itself, the other side of the road became visible. Then, completely clear. As if the cave-in did not exist in the first place.

Getting back into the car, Lynn warned, “You’re right. We aren’t alone. Better make haste.”

Tim shifted gears, the mechanical heart under the hood thumped loudly as he hit the throttle. Black smoke filled the air behind them as they charged forward. The tires screeched in excitement as they plowed through the dirt on the ground. Previously, they were careful and cautious. But now, with the newfound authority vested in them by the driver, they were free to fulfill their true purpose.

Mia’s pencil spinning stopped. Her hand clamped down on the grab handle above her, supporting her body as she swayed with each swerve the car made. Even though the air here was less stale than before, the sinking feeling in her heart was greater than ever. Danger was approaching. Its foreboding odor permeated the draft flowing against them. She could smell it.

“S-Slow down!” Lynn demanded as she got tossed around the backseat. Unlike their daring escape from the military, they were in a claustrophobic space. At any moment, it felt like the car could collide with the winding, serpentine walls.

But each harrowing crash was avoided at the last second by the skills of her Dad. How he played with the steering wheel, gearstick, and pedals like a one-man band was anyone’s guess. Even Mia had no clue where he learned such incredible control over this orange machine.

It was no longer just a car. It had turned into a roller coaster. She was grateful for putting on her seatbelt. The same couldn’t be said for Lynn, her face turning greener with each hairpin turn.

“Stooop!”

A girly scream left the princess’s lips, filling Mia’s heart with satisfaction. But when the car actually ground to a halt, the smug feeling within her evaporated in an instant as she jerked forward.

Tim didn’t stop the car because he was told to, but because he was forced to. Further down the road, halting their way ahead was a monster. Mia knew right away that this one was nothing like the Demonelk. If anything, it would have it for breakfast.

An Abyssal Fangcrawler.

Part-beast, part insect, its mouth stretched through the entirety of its underbelly, three times the length of the car. The innumerable teeth jutting out of the sides of its gaping maw replaced its legs. Every part of its armored, segmented body triggered the girl’s fight-or-flight response. Ringing alarm bells turning into tingling within her bones.

Mia forced the lump in her throat back down. She grabbed the hunting rifle behind her seat, slinging it over her shoulder before leaving the car.

“Mia! Get back—”

“I want to try something,” she reassured her Dad. Her words did little to reassure herself, however. Her nerves tensed further with every step she took. Tensed to the point of snapping.

The monster coiled up, luminescent green visible and pulsing through its black chitinous skin. Dorsal spines rattled, clicking and clacking loudly like a volley of warning shots. Its “head” had no eyes. No expression. But the two drill-like tusks that served as its canine teeth gave a clear message. Come any closer, and you’ll die.

Mia halted a few feet in front of the car. Even though she was a good distance away from the Fangcrawler, its gargantuan size made it feel a lot closer than it actually was. With every passing second, the monster grew larger and larger in her mind. Her heart was on the verge of exploding in her chest from how fast it pumped.

It was too late for any sudden moves. Tim could only watch as the girl took a deep, painfully long breath. And before his very eyes, his daughter was gone.

Human flesh collapsed in on itself as darkness sprouted forth from the husk. The air became a canvas as shadow inked across the space, gaining depth and weight. The entire tunnel drowned under the harsh impasto as the lights flickered. But throughout all this, the Fangcrawler did not move or react.

Because another one of its own was now in front of it. A perfect, identical copy of it.

Mia did not just face the nightmare; she became it. From painting to sculpture, she replicated the creature’s impossible anatomy and movements down to a T. The bioluminescent pulses. The scraping of its spines. It was as if an invisible mirror had formed in the middle of the road, reflecting both ends.

And it was working.

The real Fangcrawler changed its demeanor. Instead of green, a mix of purple and red coarsed throughout its exoskeleton, only to be mimicked by the fake. The spine rattling stopped, replaced by a quiet conversation of colors.

Throughout his long, drawn-out life, Tim has never seen such behavior in this monster before. He wasn’t sure whether to be proud or utterly terrified of his daughter. He could only watch with sweat dripping down his forehead and hope she knew what she was doing.

The creature-to-creature communication continued. Mia had no idea what she was doing.

She only knew how to copy. Like a cheater in an exam, she could put down the same answers as the ace student she referred to, but had no clue how to explain the method. This became abundantly clear as the real Fangcrawler slowly approached. If walking on all fours as a Demonelk was hard enough, walking on 788 teeth was downright impossible.

The illusion instantly crumbled. Controlling individual spines or the glowing organ was still manageable. But trying to support its immense weight on its mouth while moving was a different story altogether. Mia’s attempt to follow the monster’s centipede-like crawling was more like a wet noodle.

The urge to vomit rose from inside her, even though she lacked the capability to. 50 feet of dirt was slathered all over the insides of her mouth. The real Fangcrawler could sense the distress in the fake. And while it might not be on the pinnacle of intelligence, it could tell it was being deceived.

The spines on the real Fangcrawler straightened like steel bars. Twitching slightly, they whistled in place, eerily similar to a flutter of flutists.

Tim recognized that spine-chilling noise right away. “Mia! Move!”

The steel-like spines of the monster shot out like javelins, ripping through the air as they flew directly towards Mia.