The Cavern of Repression

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Chapter 1: Rutherford
(by ElmGoneWrong, added on 16 February 2018 01:40 PM)


He thought he was a seasoned traveller, from the land of Olive and Tyne, yet when he entered the Cavern of Repression, it took him a second to realise where he in fact was. It took him a further minute to understand that unless he battled with all his strength and wit, he could not have a hope of escape. This was the paradox of the cavern: you could try all you wanted to escape but unless your soul and heart revealed the truth, you could not be let out of its twisting depths.

Rutherford Oliver was a youth of 18, dark haired and with shining eyes that beheld a secret mischief. Now, crumpled on the ground, said eyes were squeezed shut. Echoes roared around him, shivers wracking his body as his hands clawed for purchase on the rough ground of rock and silt. Where the hell was he?

Next to him, something shifted. A hiss, long and painful, drilled through his skull and with an irritable jerk, his hand shot out. It collided with cloth; a furious yelp followed.

"Look - I know we said we wouldn't leave each other on our travels and all that but this is a BIT too far. It's just a friend thing, you know, not a companion for life thing. Wait - Rutherford, are you okay?"

Oh, god.

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