THE ARTIFACT (Part 10)

-A serialized story-

Chapter 1

A tiny little animal was clicking its hands just a few centimeters away from my face. I was lying belly down stranded on the sandy shore, watching the dangerous movements that threatened to disfigure me. I pushed myself up on my elbows to better observe the surroundings. In the distance, some three hundred meters away, rows of trees could be seen standing like guards over whatever was behind them. In the sky above the trees I noticed light images that certainly weren’t natural creations. If I had to guess what I was looking at, it would be the light produced by a disco ball. But, with the difference that it was now day and that everything was happening under the sky canopy.

The little animal clicked dangerously close to my right elbow, forcing me to bury it in the sand. No doubt about it, I’m heading towards the source of the unusual light structures in the distance. Wanted to or not, the path was laid out and very clear. I wondered if this was the sixth level of Sumtra or if this was just a continuation of the fifth level. What is certain, the water behind me was a place I’m not returning to anymore. The wooden sandbar on which I fell asleep was nowhere in sight. It served its purpose, allowed me to rest. Was actually that falling asleep my exit from the fifth level? I’ll find the answer somewhere. Not that it was of crucial importance to me, more like a dot on the progress map.

Approaching step by step the first rows of trees I noticed a paper fluttering carried by the wind. I have to catch it. I know I must. Nothing here happens by accident, let alone a paper floating in the middle of a sandy beach carried by the wind coming from the direction of the trees. It took me several attempts jumping to finally catch a paper. The front side was empty. I turned the back side where I was greeted by an illustration of a hand with an extended middle finger and text underneath it:

We invite you to play with us. The playroom is located exactly where you headed. We invite you, come. What’s the worst that can happen to you? That we infect you with laughter? That we chop you into tiny pieces? Cook you for lunch? Throw you to the hungry dogs? Or simply hold each other’s shoulders and dance? Come on, we dare you. All possibilities are open and have already happened. You choose the rules, we the dance!

The handwriting was ugly and at times illegible so I managed to completely decipher it based on meaning and context. The ominously playful tone of the message didn’t disturb me in my intention to see what was happening. At the very bottom of the paper another row of letters was written, so small that at first I didn’t notice there was more.

Follow the popped balloons. Look at the tree branches.

Timidly I stepped into what looked like the beginning of a wild ride. And, oh, how my feeling didn’t betray me.

Chapter 2

The forest darkness was thick, imbued with the atmosphere of lost toys and helpless children’s crying. Heavy air to breathe, imbued with musty, invisible mold seared all the breathing openings on my face. I couldn’t see myself from the side which by no means contradicted my conviction that on my face was an expression of pure disgust and tired attempt to somehow ease my discomfort. It wasn’t any different forest from the countless ones I’ve passed through. The air in it was the one that was different. What of the air my lungs were so eagerly expecting. For a moment I completely forgot that I should be looking for popped red balloons on the trees. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to go on like this for much longer. The much needed oxygen here was so scarce that a mild dizziness had already begun to overcome me. I noticed the first popped balloon only after I went deeper into the forest. It was attached to what used to be a branch and now just a sharp wooden stump. Slowly, I figured out the pattern by which they appeared and actually gave me a very sensible path forward. After a few similar sights, first very quietly and then louder and clearer, my ears detected a sound coming from the depths of this labyrinth.

I was confused by the occasional amplitude of the sound, in which at one moment it was stronger, in another so quiet that even with considerable strain I barely heard anything. Finally I realized it was music changing with every new song. Some songs were quieter or started with slower notes.

This is unusual. A yellow remnant of a balloon, laid on the ground seized my attention and full focus. Until now all balloons were red. I picked it up from the ground, feeling it vibrate in my hands. A message written in tiny black letters. The dim light of Earth’s Moon, breaking through the tree canopies allowed me with considerable strain to read the text.

A sharp object and stabbing into the head. That’s how you’ll beat them. Only one head breaks the illusion and leads you further. Be careful to catch the balloon at the end. That is the path upwards. Signed Mr. Kraba.

An unusual name, Mr. Kraba. But thanks to him, I’ll listen to him no matter how nonsensical what he wrote was. Surely he didn’t write some random nonsense out of boredom. Especially not in this place, which holds you by the throat with both hands.

Chapter 3

I found the source of the music. Back leaning against a tree I gathered courage. Fear of what I would encounter. The dizziness was accompanied by an increasingly strong headache that clouded my thoughts. And reason. My lungs hurt. The lack of oxygen takes its toll. I was afraid of what follows knowing how now I can’t go back at all. The only way is forward.

Stop! – I thought loudly. Don’t think, just move. You’ll suffocate while hesitating.

Passing the last line of the tree row of this part of the forest I stepped onto a circular clearing, about fifty meters in diameter, in the middle of which was a huge tent. The tent was literally glowing. Its walls vibrated from the loud music coming from the inside. Above, the light coming from within, made unusual shapes in the sky. Was that my already severely shaken perception or was a goat really gracefully hopping to the rhythm of the music in the sky?

In front of the entrance to the tent a driven metal rod and on it a wooden sign on which in large printed letters was written:

Underneath in cursive letters two more lines were written:

You fool, a period goes at the end of a sentence.

You are stupid

Gathering the last atom of courage left in me I pulled back the curtains and stepped into what looked terrifying and turned out to be the hardest few days of my life.

-End of Part 10-