The ancient courtyard sits in poised silence as tendrils of mist creep along
its paths in search of warm blooded creatures. Black moss protects my bare feet
from the icy stones on which I stand. For the thousandth time I let my thoughts
wander across the familiar grounds.
Kings walked this courtyard once. They were the great ones, the Kings, who
orchestrated the battles between men and monsters only to fill the mouths of
dragons with the bones and the blood of the unworthy and the weak. That was
before the first war of this world, a hundred world wars ago.
Carefully I measure the mood upon the surface of the pool before me. It
wears the shades of silver and gray reflected by the winter sky above. I peer
over the edge, my toes itching to break the glassy surface and send ripples
across its flatness. Are they awake?
They can’t know – the others - what lies in wait at the bottom. It’s a
secret I cherish, paid for with my own sanity almost a hundred challenges ago.
I slip off my robe - a gift of virgin silk that binds me to this existence.
It falls silently to my feet. I am not shy of my nakedness. I wear my scars
proudly.
I slide into the water and sigh at the familiar touch of the black seaweed
against my thighs. It recognizes me and wraps its loving tendrils around my
nakedness protecting me from the depths. I pretend to swim as the seaweed
carries me through the water. They must not suspect. Not yet.
I’m in the middle of the pool now. The place where all was lost. My life, my
love, my sanity. I submerge my face and for just a brief moment I open my eyes.
My protectors tighten their hold at my willfulness.
It stirs as it senses my sightless observation. From the endless depths it
sends a warning – a threat of pure nothingness that tears at the fibers of my
mind. It is awake now and it is hungry. I quickly shut my eyes. Water fills my
mouth. It burns like acid reaching into my throat. My warning, my punishment. I
lift my head and let the water pour back into the pool.
I complete my lap through the water. I pull myself out and sit on the edge
to allow my feet to dangle. I am warm. I feel safe. I cannot say the same for
the others.
The contenders are blind to the inhabitant of the pool. They show no fear.
As it was for me a lifetime ago, as it should be today.
The first to enter is fearless. A warrior, a victor with a taste for
bloodshed. His laughter echoes loudly. Disrespectfully. A grave mistake the
mist has witnessed before. It swirls around the contender in slow, graceful
circles, saying goodbye.
Courage has no value here. Fear, hope, love – all that humankind holds dear
– becomes meaningless and worthless at the gates of this hell. I speculate that
it all tastes the same to that which lies at the bottom.
I silently say goodbye as he enters the pool. As I once did, he battles the
seaweed, ripping at its loving and caring limbs. He is strong in will and might
and swims lightly across the surface on his own. The seaweed sighs knowing the
end is near.
He glides through the water in perfect rhythm. Ripples lap at my dangling
feet sending shivers up my legs. Then, as lightly as a lover’s sigh, it begins
- a subtle but unmistakable shudder that caresses my skin. A vibration that
ripples across the swimmer, invisible to all but me, that gently and quietly
steals all reason from his mind. Quietly, ever so careful not to draw
attention, I pull my feet from the water.
It’s over for him and as he pulls himself out of the pool to stand beside
me, I witness the nothingness in his eyes. The grin of the mindless, forever
frozen on his lips, he wanders away, naked and dripping, the mist lapping at
his skin, lost forever in the secret of the pool.
First course complete, an appetizer of reason served cold. The second
already swimming toward his demise, clueless to the hellhound that lies in
wait, finds deception in his achievements.
The thunder feels as if it comes from the sky, but only I know better. Here
it comes. From the depths, it stirs the poison up toward the surface and the
swimmer is bathed in its saliva. Shudders rock the courtyard as its appetite is
aroused. This one climbs out next to me with all his wits about him. Tomorrow
the sun will rise upon his corpse, unrecognizable to loved ones who have never
seen him without his skin before.
The sky brightens as the last competitor, the two who swim as one, gently
slide into the pool. The mist stops its wandering across the courtyard and
stills in anticipation.
Courage and fear, times two, paddle through the water like puppies fighting
to keep their chins dry. They glance at each other, they smile at each other,
feeding and nurturing and loving.
Poor, pathetic souls, I think to myself. My watery seaweed companions bob
and sway in agreement. To what end will they meet today? Will it be quick and
bubbly or slow and frothy? I’ve seen both, and either way it’s always very
bloody.
The tremors begin as they approach the middle of the pool - heavy,
thunderous earthquake tremors that resonate deep inside my stomach. I swallow
to keep from vomiting.
The secret rises up from the endless depth, a vortex of darkness sucking at
the swimmers who cling to each other in helplessness. They wrap their limbs
around each other as if becoming one. They close their eyes against the sight
of the teeth that emerge in a perfect and beautiful circle.
I cannot help but admire the beauty of the scene before me. Time slows down
to bear witness to the perfectly orchestrated dance: thousands of sharp, white
teeth bear down upon the swimmers as they twirl and twist and turn.
But the teeth act not of one creature. They do not come together to chew at
their prey like the giant jaws of a single animal. Instead, they slice and
pierce and carve independently from one another in such a way as to fill the
pool with chunky, bloody pieces of flesh that swirl and stir in a broth of
blood and fat. Today, it is a slow and frothy scene as one swimmer is carved
away from the other into puzzle pieces never to be put back together.
Only one finds death at the dance of the teeth. The other is left alone,
scarred and scared with nothing but our seaweed for comfort. Tendrils lay the
survivor at my feet, a weeping and sobbing puddle. There is no remedy for the
madness that ensues. As I stare down at the bloody mess, I smile. My time is
done here. They have a new plaything now. I am free. The secret has been
shared. Welcome to my world.
