The Tar Pit

The way through the woods was suddenly much easier to traverse. In place of roots, vines, and other natural tripping hazards, I found myself on a narrow, usable dirt pathway. Loathed as I was to think the path was the doing of the witch and likely a preset course for my supposed heroism, I had been in enough woods to know the paths were usually the safest. These fantastical woods made that all the clearer, with chilling sounds from just beyond my walkway that came close but never enough to warrant a sprint.

Once I felt the way was safe enough, I even elected to take a break and drink some water from my backpack. There was no telling when I would get another chance to rest, so I also polished off a couple of rations. Hopefully this whole ordeal would be over and done with before long.

A part of me still wished that I was going to wake up any moment, but another side—probably the side that experienced the extreme pain—was beginning to believe all this madness was real. Not wanting to let my mind wander, I jumped up and pushed the trash into a spare pocket. Dream or another world, I still wasn’t a litterer.

I marched down my narrow path until a horrifying smell assaulted me. To be blunt, it smelled like ass and rotten eggs, but mostly ass. When the pathway opened up, it was accompanied by an unsavory sight. What looked like a web of thin land weaved across multiple bits of black tar—at least, I hoped it was tar. Above my head, many cages were hung from chains so long I could not see what suspended them, and the bottoms glowed with an eerie orange glow. The air was more putrid up close than in the woods. As I pulled a kerchief from my bag and wrapped it around my face like a mask, I could see the path I came from was no longer open.

A whisper came from above. I had to draw closer to make out the words.

“Hey, hey you!”

A beggarly old man squished his face up to the bars and stuck an arm out to flail in every which way. “You better move quick; if the pits catch you, being caged is the best outcome!”

“Wait, no!” another voice hissed from the cage beside the man’s. This time, a woman moved her face close to the bars, though she did not press it as dramatically to bars as the old man. “Don’t you see that sword!”

Some chatter came from other cages, but I couldn’t make out the words. The old man spoke up again.

“Don’t be a fool; he’ll just be caught like the last hero.”

“No, but that is the celestial witch’s sword; if she has bestowed it to him, he can slay the monster.”

There was a lot about what was being said that I didn’t like, and I felt strongly that I had to leave this place before any such monster showed up.

Keeping my voice low, I turned to the old man.

“I’m trying to find the castle at the end of the woods; once I head back I–”

“Ah, the castle!” The words ‘the castle’ seemed to sync up among the whispers such that I thought I could make out the words as they rippled across the cages like a stone hit a pond. “The way from here to the castle is difficult!”

“Just point me the right way, and I’ll figure it out.”

This time, the woman spoke up. “If you want to find your way, you must free the lady trapped here. She is the only one who can direct you the right way. The forest won’t let you go otherwise.”

“What? A lady of the tar pit? Qiuet a downgrade from a lake if you ask me!” I sighed. Much as I wanted to protest the forest itself being a nuisance, I had seen enough since arriving to know that it was completely likely. “Alright, what am I supposed to do to get out of this damned place.”

The old man sounded hoarse, “The center, she’s imprisoned in the center!” He and all the people caged around me pointed in the same direction. Their eyes were wide enough to catch the orange glow and reflect it back to me.

I gulped, grabbed the sword, and began to tiptoe down the windy land path. Despite how I tried, I couldn’t pull my supposed weapon free. Some other caged folks were whispering things around me, but I was too focused on the ground to pay any attention to them. I was pretty sure getting stuck in the tar was a slow death sentence if I misstepped, and I didn’t really feel like having to deal with that.

After slowly walking through the orange light and whispering onlookers, I found a fork. A wave of whispers seemed to come from my left, and the person closest to me hissed, “The other way, run!”

Of course, I stood there a minute too long like an idiot processing what I just heard. Long enough to see a bulb in the tar heading in my direction. Hissing whispers seemed to head out from near me until they were silent. A shout in the distance and the rattling of chains caused the approaching blob to turn and sail in that direction. “Now is your chance, hurry!”

I walked as quickly as my shaky feet could take me down the fork. No matter what, I couldn’t pull the sword free, and I felt as if my thundering heart wouldn’t stop until I had something in my hand. I gave up on the witch’s sword and freed a dulling foraging knife from my bag. There was still not enough security for my pounding chest.

I continued through the web of land, following the directions of the caged persons. Slowly, the pathway of ground began to widen until I could see what looked like an island in the middle of the pits. Cages seemed to thin out as I drew closer until only a single cell in the island’s center was in view. The lack of light from the prisons made it all the harder to see, but I crept forward all the same. The island’s ground was covered in chains that shot endlessly into the sky like thin tree trunks, and I had to weave some to get there.

Inside was a woman at the top and a fish at the bottom. She curled sadly, hugging her tail like she had knees and leaning on the side furthest from me.

“Hey,” I hissed.

She turned her head my way slowly. Her face was cold and empty, her voice came off as simply defeated.

“Another hero for the slaughter, huh?”

“Shit girl, what kind of opening line is that?”

“The last was lucky enough to be caged, but the one before sunk into the pits right over there.”

I was not interested in looking at the spot she directed, but morbid curiosity made me turn my head. It was the same as any other spot in the erie tar pit, except for a lone sword that managed to stick from the ground. Given the lines on the ground, it looked like the poor soul was drug into the pit and tried to use his blade to anchor himself. I gulped. Further past her finger was the blob, and it was coming my way fast.

Turning to her, I didn’t bother whispering, “How do I let you out?”

“You must slay the monster.”

“How am I supposed to kill a blob?”

From behind, I could hear a sloshing sound. I turned slowly but shaky. The blob had grown to perhaps the size of a bus. Two luminescent orange eyes moved across the body until both locked on me. The tar split open—showing a glowing orange interior—and chains rattled from a distorted basso profundo cry.