Journey to the center of the Earth

Whereas the rest of the cave had been silent, depressing, and void of any colour, this dead end they had come to was vibrant with the orange glow of silver, bubbling liquid. Or was it a thin black layer of gas, which slowly flowed across the impossibly smooth walls of the cave?

It was hard to tell; the wall was morphing and twisting so impossibly fast that Pierre could not figure out its true shape. Occasionally, he thought that he could see tiny specks of iron forming inside the pillar of fire, only for them to quickly evaporate into thin air, as if they had never existed. The only thing Pierre was certain of was that he could perceive a faint but lingering smell, which blew across the room.

Up to this point, Pierre had not caught the smell of anything throughout his entire time in the cave realms. This is not to say that there were no distinctly strong scents down here, but merely that he could not smell anything at all, possibly due to his lack of nostrils. Nevertheless, right now he could sense something.

It wasn't really a distinct odour, like the stingy feeling burning concrete gives when it melts into your nostrils, the light aroma of butter and salt from cooked popcorn, or the soft scent of vanilla and pines, which always evoked nostalgia for Pierre.

No, this scent was different. It was unique in its lack of any tones and notes; it was perhaps the only truly odourless scent Pierre had ever sensed.

"Air has a smell. It's not a very pleasant or particularly unbearable one. I mean, people rarely notice it to begin with. The only time anyone can tell that they are breathing air is when it is incredibly hot outside and it feels like their lungs are being dragged down, when they are on a mountain where the air is incredibly thick, and they find themselves greedily gasping for it, or when they feel the rush of coldness from swallowing a mint-flavoured bonbon.

This, however, is different; it does not smell like any of those things. It has a smell, I can feel it. But why does it taste like... well, nothing?"

He stared at the ceiling. The plafond here was higher than in the previous room. There were no spikes sticking out of it; instead, it was impossibly smooth and perfectly dark. The only impurity Pierre could spot were white veins of some type of liquid crystal, which were slowly burrowing their way through the grey, solid rock.

The liquid was an impeccably pure white, an attribute that was only amplified by the dark, eerie atmosphere of the cave. Upon closer inspection, Pierre could see small streaks of colourful sparkles swimming along the stream of white diamond.

"It seems like we have reached a dead end," Abbot noted after the two of them had gawked at the impossible sphere for a couple of hours. "Do you want to turn around and walk back the way we came from?"

Pierre slowly moved his neckless head back and forth, attempting to nod. He had completely forgotten that Abbot was there. Nevertheless, he was right; there was nothing for them to do here. It was a shame that they had spent several days marching only to encounter a wall. However, he was also acutely aware that no amount of complaining would change the situation.

He turned to Abbot. "Yeah, let’s go back it does not look like…"

Pierre found himself too stunned to finish his sentence.

Abbot's face, which was already not the most pleasant thing to look at, seemed like it had collapsed upon itself, as if someone had taken and removed all structural integrity from it. His jaw was hanging down to his shoulders, and his small, white eyes were almost perpendicular to each other. Abbot suddenly seemed much smaller.

"Abbot, your face is melting!"

Abbot pushed his gooey jaw back in place. As he did, a part of that large toe he called a hand fell to the ground with a loud splashing sound.

"Huh, I guess it is. But so is yours!"

Pierre looked at his hands; Abbot was right. His hands were falling apart like wax candles.

"What is going on?”

Suddenly, a loud splashing noise echoed through the cave, as a large chunk of crystallized rock detached itself from the ceiling and came crashing down, plunging itself deep into Abbot's disfigured forehead.

Pierre could see how the sharp shard cut through his skull like a spoon through hot pudding. The shard slowly sunk deeper through Abbot's liquid, muddy flesh until it disappeared behind his blank, white eyes.

The cave was thrown into silence once again. All Pierre could do was stare at Abbot's frozen yet still melting body.

"Are you alright?" he asked after a deafening amount of time had passed.

Abbot shoved his jiggling mouth back and forth, trying to get it back into its original shape. He let out a disgusting chewing noise, which was possibly him using his tongue to readjust his mouth from the inside.

"Mhm, yes, why wouldn't I be?" he spoke before continuing to chew. "But I wonder, why does my mouth taste so sweet?"