Labyrinth Expedition #18

The words rattled the sane minds that beheld them, flashes of horrific fragments clouded their eyes, vision of their fears or phantoms of ghosts whose hands would penetrate and steal their mental strength. Heavy hands would seem to wring their neck, the air forced out of their mysterious means, and their muscles would spasm in place just from the sound alone.

The mysterious being knew exactly what he was doing, taking pleasure in the grim faces of their distant eyes. With a gloved hand, the fingers covered his teeth and smile, and he tipped his head in mock apology, still speaking incoherently

“O̶̡͚̩̙̪͇͇̥̲̳͒͆͂͆͌̓͑̽́̆̏h̸̨̻̯̪̉̈̎̀̒͊̒̚͝,̸̧̡͇̜̥̬͚̙̟̗̥͆̓̓͑͂́̐̽͐͑̕ ̴̻̟̟̞̙̈́̈̈́́̈́̈́̃̎́͑̽p̵͔͖̒̌ͅä̴͎̱̲̫̼̘̭̥̭̪̎̇̽̉̃̕͠r̵̡̨̪͖͍̯̙̞̗͇͍͒̒̎͊̌ḑ̶̛̖͈̠͈͔̺̯̪͒̔̓̈́̄̍̄́̉̒̈͒̕͜o̷̤̟̩̰̱̔͊̃̃͜ǹ̴̛̤͎͔̊́̃͛͘ ̷̨͕̜̟̬͖̫̦̀͒̃̈́̋͌͋͋̑m̸̨̛̰̥̭̼͇͈̟̀̒̀̑̓y̸̡͕̪̣͎̳͋̄́͂͒̈́̓̇̿́͜ ̶̣̭̞̟̊̔̀̀̋̇̉̈́̇̇͛͘͝ř̷̡̺̳̪̠̝̍̓́͘͜ͅư̷̡̢̱̮͙̪̠͕̮̘̣͈̄̈́͌̈́̀̐͆͐̃̊͘̚d̶̡͔̯̮̳͇͖̥̾͂͛̅́́ę̴̹̬̖͎͖͇͎̠̈̽͗̔͊̊̅͂̆ṉ̶̨̜̼̣̔͐̅̅̉͛̿̃̽͐̂̏̇͠͠ě̶͙͊s̴͔̳̪̰̤͓̈́̀̋̀̈́͗̐͆̃̉̎͘͘͝͝ͅş̵̮̞͕̲̯͓̻̱̣̖̬͉͎́̂̿̽͑̎͠-̶̧̛̞͙̞̥̎͐͗̂̈́̈͛̐̒͠͝͝ͅ-̶̢̯͔̦̟̝̞̭̌͑͐̊̉͊—” He said, gasping with inflecton, almost with perfect acting.

He placed his hands on his chest, feigning regret, pretending to feel remorse– but the ominous expression he wore betrayed his intentions. If he did not look menacing, if they closed their eyes, he would’ve sounded genuine enough for them to believe with their whole hearts.

“I̸̙̜͇͉̖͛́̏͌̚͝t̵̨̛͖͍̮̺̠̝̘̹͓̣̣͓́̋̈́̑̋̐̐̂̀̏ͅ ̶̢̬̹̭̖͈͚̈́̓̊̓̏̎̈́̚͜ḧ̶̤̱̠̠̣͉͎̟̘̦̟̭̾̊̑͑̈̿̏͜ä̴̺͙̼̩̼̦̻́̒͂s̷̼͙͇̲̺̑ͅ ̷̨̧̗̼̲̬̲͙̣̥͎̟̲͊͒b̷̨̼̥͎̪̪͉̠̥̜͇̮̮̾̋̿̓̒͑̇̓̋̕̚͜ͅė̷̡̝̞͕̳̭̞̭̯̯̈́͒̈́̈́̎͗͊̋̿̽̈́̋̒͜͠ĕ̶̢̪͕̫͇͈̗̩͇̖͍͑n̶̙̜͙̗̱̺̗̾́͐̆̃̆̔̐̊͂̈́͜ ̶̡̪͇̣͙̬̙̠̤͔̘̮̬̦̹̎a̵̡̛̜͍̝̔̇̾͌̊̐̈ ̶̖̝͙͙͇͙̺̈̅̀͆̔͘̚w̷̢̨̨̺̪̹̻̞̱̙̙͍̘̏̈́́̍h̶̢̝̜̜͕̯̱͔͔͘͜͜͠ͅĭ̴̢̛̼̩̭̳̙̦̘͋͌̒̍̌͝ļ̷̬̦̱̂̍͑̉̎̕è̸̢̛̪̤̼͎͇͈͎̗͆̚͝͝ ̷̡̛̛̖̲͔̯͚͔̳̩̖̬̏͂͗͐͊͌̈̌̀̂̃̕s̵̩̻͇͖͈͓̫̝̬̹͊̅͂̿́ḯ̵̢̨̢̬̺̫̩͚͍͈̘͇͉͎̾͒͗̇͛̈́̚n̷̯̤̲͇̰̈́̏̈́̀̓̈́̀̔͑͂͊̑͘͘͝ç̴͍͔͕͓̟̺̠̤̜͛̾̅̉̀̽̃́ͅẹ̷̞͚̥̮͛̇ ̸̡̧̩̱̮͙̘̼͛̊̏̓̓͝Í̸̮̟̦̂̀̈̽̕'̴̢̻̭͔͎̜̺̼̂̅͌͠v̵̧̹͕̯̜̺̹͓̣̟͖̩̔͊̈́͑͆͌̍͛͂̅ȩ̴̼̥̰͙̰̒̓͠ ̸̫̬̖̹̟͓͙͚͖̈̓̃̑̋͠͝͝ͅş̸̟̑̑̿͜͠p̴̖̟̟̲̦̈́͐͘ọ̷̢͇̟́͐́̏͒̈́͊̋͘͘͘͠ḱ̸̞̺̂̉̃͋̽̀͠͝ȩ̴͕̹͇̲͇͕͚̪̣̬͉̬̏͐̚n̵̬̥̠̯̅̉̏̈̽̅̓̀̔̽̀̕ ̸̧̳̲̾̂̽t̵̡̢̛̝̻̳̮̻̩̦͓̤̳̳̭̦ơ̵͉̪̹̰͌̈́̑̍͊ ̶͉̱̙̩̼̲̗͛̑͐̽̂̎̚͘l̴̡̞̖̺͕̞͇̲͕̜͛͋̀̔̄̋̊̑̉͋̏́͜ͅę̴̡͚̞̹͚̟͐͊̔͋̍̀̓͝s̴̢̘̞͕̭͓̣̪̎͌͂͊́͒̓͘͜͝͝͝ş̸̗̦͙͓̰̩͈̪̝̉ę̸̢̛̝̱̹̣̠̰̠̯̜̏́̒̾̓̽̅̆̽̏̔͛͝r̸͍̟͇̟̭̠̊̊̌͐̓̍͑̉̆̀̑̽̍̕͝ ̵͔͓̮͉̮̻̣̩̙̱̽ͅb̷̞̪͙̼̖̩͚̜̋̎̉̑ͅe̴͖̱̪̲̼̾̂̋͝i̷̱͚̐̐̚n̶̠̈́͑̍̅̐͠͠g̷̩̰̻͎̽͆̉̀̈́̏̈̊̆̕s̷̢̰͈͎̥̲̬̹̻̹̳̟̻̑̐̾̆̿͌̄̓̀̽̀̂̀̐,̷̡̤̰̪̼̮̺̺̀̽̽͂̄̐̉́̃̈́͊̕”

The theatrics of his stunt pleased him greatly, and his lone play continued on. He raised his right hand, putting the left on his heart. The index pointed sharply in the air, the middle finger curling to meet his thumb. With great strength, the finger scraped against the rigid digit and when it slammed against his palm— instead of a click, the sound waves thundered in the large room with one large, heavy rumble, the kind only produced by a terrifying storm’s strongest lightning.

Thu-du-dum!

But despite the show of raw power, the waves of air weakened drastically when it reached them, with only the ripple of sound washing over their bodies. It was horrific, terrifying even, because they could only stand there and take it, and they were not naive– the ringmaster could easily thin their numbers with just his fingers.

The act was not all for show however, and like a master ringing a bell for a maid, an entity came from the darkness of the room from behind him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere. It was a bloody clown, a horror-movie’s antagonist personified with a dose of bone-chilling magic.

The summon was tall, lanky with its incredibly long limbs, unnaturally elongated past the point achieved by freaks. It was taller than the ringmaster, but was just as narrow, and it slumped with a lazy kind of slouch.

Crrkk…

It walked at a slow pace, but the reach of its long legs made up for it, dragging the long sword-like nails of its right hand against the stone ground with a deafening crease. In its left hand was a human head, well-preserved, almost freshly obtained, and its features were all too familiar to Akiro, for he had read the journal and the Scavian Kingdom’s historical manuscripts. He stared at the head, a paragraph of text appearing from his memories.

“A young appearance adorned with light scars fading to time, the lines honorably attained by leading his men valiantly at the forefront, and strong eyes that gleamed with hope and duty– that was the man who became Scavia’s first King, Akihito Uesugi, foremost spear of the unknown frontier.” Akiro reminded himself, “I think the reason as to why he did not leave alive was not because he was stuck in the tower like we thought— he was killed.”

“Akihito was a fearsome warrior, ‘The One-Army Spearhead’ was his namesake. Even in his old age, he knew he had to come back to kill something, it was implied through his actions and grim glare to any mention of the Tower’s Last floor. Historians were not sure what it was, and were unable to get that answer until he mysteriously departed for the labyrinth alone.”

The head was unlike the first king’s portraits, happy, beaming with pride, the symbol: “The Rising Sun of the West.” This was no longer the man taught to children in schools, it was a man who saw hell before dying. Contorted, almost silently screaming with its open jaw and missing teeth, the body-less corpse was a symbol, a picture and painting, a one-word story of his demise.

Akiro was not sure, not completely, but how preserved the head was, the tongue curled in a specific way that betrayed the king’s last words. “He came back…to try to kill this thing.” He gulped down, the words of the late man echoing through his horrid imagination. “Run! Run! Run! Run Away!”

The ringmaster reached for the head with tenderness of a man with a precious item, treating the keepsake with great care as he gingerly stroked the slack jaw. He hummed a happy tune, grating to the humans listening, as he head’s neck, using his long sharp fingernails to surgically sever the man’s vocal organs.

squelch!

And with a tilt of his head, it revealed his neck, a large gapins space where one’s larynx would be and implanted the procured parts carefully. Flesh and sinew merged and healed anew, cells and pieces forcing themselves together with incredible speed.

“T̸̿̉̊͊̒͒̈́̾͝ȩ̷̧̡͔̫̮͖̪̅̿͐̔̓͋̇̿̉s̵̜͇̬̱̞̤̣̀̌́̀̈t̶̩͖̦̻̼̳͉̣̫̰̃i̸̮͍͖͉̳̖̓́̋̓̋̿̓n̶̛͓͇͉̬̖͉̫̙̼̙̣̓̈́̏͌̄͗̍̀̀̏͘͜͝͝͝ͅg̶̼̻̪̹͕̥̭̽̀̔̃̊̑̐̈́͊̀̊̀̕!̵̢̳̫̺̼̰̉̏͊͑͊̚ͅ ̶̛̱͉́̌͌̌́̓́̌̈̀̚̚̚͝t̸̤̘̝̖̗̯͓̥̥͑̀̈́̀̓̒̎̉̂̌̓̓̎͠͝ê̵̡̳̘̳͍͙̯̟̠̓͋̓̿́̉͗͛̆͝s̶̛͓̱͚͕̲̳̻̳̹̈́͗̀̎͑̄͐́́͆̏̈́͑͜͝t̴̲͋̀́̇̂́̓̓̋̅͘į̵̘̜͖͎̯̥̱̓̈́n̷͎͍̋̽̅̿̋̒͗͝g̵̬͛͗́̄͒̓͊̂͒̓͠!̴̭̬̲͈͐̎̊͘ ̵̝̯͇̃̿̒̇̔̈͐͑́͛̋͝ṫ̵͇͎̖̺́͒̈́̃͒͐̈́̄̀̿͝è̶͉̂̓̐̒͠ͅs̴̢̺͎̱̥̟̳̀̊̈́̏̑̆͘͠͝t̷̜̭̯̃́̊̄́̓̎̂͠͝i̵̮̘̳͌͑̓͛̌͠͝n̸̢̩̭̊̋͝g̸̭̭̥̫͒̉̌̎̕͘͝!̴̎– Testing! Testing! Testing!"

The demon vocalized, testing each inflection of his voice, holding an impressive range with his control.

“Oh! What a refreshing change this is! To think that I’ve been saving this voice for a thousand years!” The monster beamed with joy, the voice he had forcefully implanted into himself sounding pleasing– a drastic improvement to his soul-searing speech from earlier.

He wrapped his arms around himself, clutching his shoulders tightly with glee and joy, humming with savage delight. “Mm! What a joyous event this is! I’ve always wanted to use that man’s voice! Today’s show can’t be any more perfect!”

The demon mewled in his own words, his body trembling with the sheer pleasure of it all– making his observers cringe in their armor, shivers running up their spines. The insanity he displayed with his hidden face was enough to haunt them for the following nights to come. The summoned monster bowed sharply after standing straight in salute, before walking backwards to melt back into the shadows from whence it came.

“Hmm…Come to think of it, what was my name again?” The demon hummed, crossing his arms as he swayed his hips. His eyes grew wide, the black orbs flashing blood-red pupils, “Ah! In human-speak, My name roughly translates to Jester!”

The insane bowed his head, putting his hand over his chest to formally introduce himself. “You can call me Jester.” He said, rising from the bow, the hat removed from his head. “Now then, what say you, will you introduce yourself?

Kaiser had to blink, his mind slow and wary from any incoming attack. The hat was his veil, the veil that hid his unique… strangely handsome face. His features were sharp, tidy and pristine like that of a dignified nobleman.

His skin was clear, a healthy peach with no visible blemishes, the kind obtained by noblewomen after rigorus routines; and his countenance was shining with joy like he was genuinely happy to receive long-lost relatives.

Kaiser was not fooled however, and behind his reassuring smile were teeth sharper than any sword he had ever wielded, caging a tongue much more glib than all merchants. “Kaiser, that is my name,” He answered, putting his hand back to motion back to the other two to not speak. “Well met, Jester. I assume you are aware of who we are, and why we are here?”

“Of course!” Jester replied with a condescending grin, “You’ve come to kill me! To finally free yourselves from this prison, the prison you all have been trapped in for months!”

“Yes,” Kaiser agreed, pointing his longsword at the demon’s head, “You are correct, Jester. It is as you say, now—”

“Whoa! Whoa! Let’s not be hasty now!” Jester shook his head, waving his hands at him, before motioning to him and himself. “Why the rush? While yes, we are mortal enemies, you surely are not uncivilized! Why not parely with me? Perhaps we can come to an agreement, perhaps we can solve this– Leader to Leader.”

Kaiser frowned sharply, his sword flinching ever so slightly at the suggestion. Subtly tempted by the offer. “Why should we parley? We have no reason to lay down our weapons and talk.”

Jester nodded understandingly, knowing Kaiser's position well. “Well, contrarily, do you have any reason not to? After all— as a leader, you know that this hopeless charge will surely cost the lives of your precious otherworldly heroes!” He reminded him of the obvious fact, Kaiser’s fists curling tighter into balls.

“He’s right, death is inevitable.” Kaiser’s eyes turned dark, the situation unearthed and revealed to him. Jester knew that he understood the underlying intentions of his offer and smiled. “A parley? I am not dull-witted, fiend. It is not a parley you want, but a duel. Am I wrong?”

Jester grinned, musing with bubbling jow. The fiend was as puzzling as he was difficult to understand. He bobbed on his toes with anticipation, clapping lightly as he did so, “Splendid!” He cheered, “I am glad to have conversed with you, your intelligence is praise-worthy Kaiser!”

“If I can somehow defeat him in single combat, then maybe– just maybe–” The knight gulped, thinking long and hard about what he must do. He was no idiot, he knew that even with all his experience and strength, the risk of death is true even for him. If he falls now, they will too, and as a leader and soon-to-be father, he can’t back down from this; not because he’s afraid for himself, but because if won’t, no one will.

That was the burden a leader must carry. The knight turned to his fiance, his future wife, and mirrored the worry and thoughts she had, but could not change his decision. At that point, in his mind, he made his choice. Olivia looked at him with worry, knowing what must be done, but it did not ease the pain.

“I…I must go.” The man said softly, filled with regret. Kaiser breathed deeply, steeling himself again, perhaps for the last time. “I’m sorry.”

Olivia could only nod, looking at him with glassy eyes, blobs of water threatening to cascade down her cheeks. “S-Stay safe…” she forced out, her voice no softer than a squeak, pangs of pain piercing her heart.

Kaiser gulped, facing the looming threat in the distance. Jester’ smile was no longer hidden, now exposed in all of its diabolical glory, and he walked towards him.

With each step, the more he realized that this was now his fate. Like an animal to the slaughter, Kaiser persisted despite the nagging fear, and he was surprised! The closer he walked, the more he felt at peace. He was like a man destined to die, but if he does, he knows that his death will have purpose.

“I’ll do anything to keep Olivia safe,” Kaiser reminded himself, looking up to the demon taller than he, “Even if I have to make a deal with a Demon! All that matters is that she’s going to make it out of here alive.”

Jester grinned wider from ear to ear, his eyes reading the thoughts behind Kasier’s eye, “If that is what you wish,” He bowed, stepping back five paces and assuming a righting stance, “I will honor that wish, you cold, cold human.”