The Cave : weekend freewrite : Abyni Always

The cave cover.jpg

So, I looked at the three part freewrite and the first one sparked no ideas. so I looked at the single prompt ones and had an AMAZING idea. I wrote for an hour and a half and wrote a story using ALL of the single prompts. it's interesting and strange but inevitably cool. The link to the original post with the list of prompts so you can follow along and make sure I got them all is here . Please enjoy :)

I’m bored stiff. I’m a Warrior, I’m supposed to be out there with a blue stripe across my cheek to show it, I trained just like all the others. But no, they left me here in what they call the “Lizard Cave”. Stupid name. They went to attack a town called усмешлівы дом, which loosely translated into english means “The Smiling House”. We needed more medical supplies after yesterday.

I saw a pig running down the street and after a moment the rest came running through the village with the rest of the animals from the stables. That’s when I smelled the smoke. Someone had started a fire near the stables in my village and the wind had blown it into the stables, catching fire to the hay. It was well after midnight and I was the only one up, on patrol picking at a splinter in my hand while the other guards got some sleep. I saw some change in the street so I went to grab it when the pig ran past me. It was crazy how fast it happened. One minute I’m just on duty and the next I’m pulling people out of a burning barn.

Later that night I had went home after the fire was put out to feed my cat Apricot. He had been in the fire too but he was okay, other than his normally white fur being black with smoke. Next on the list is the dirty dishes in the sink, since an hour ago the Captain of the Guard had left a note on my door telling me I was “being dismissed of my duty”. It’s not my fault some kid caught the barn on fire, but it was my watch and he had no one else to blame. It was then that I looked up from the sink and saw the strangest thing. A purple squirrel running across my lawn.

Next thing I knew I was chasing the thing into the woods, freshly fallen red leaves crunching under my shoes. I followed the thing all the way to a small house, just filled with books and carvings and in the corner a pot over a flame. I just had this weird itching that I shouldn’t go near the strange bubbling liquid inside the pot. I took a few steps back and tripped over a shoe, falling and hitting my head, leaving this awful aching behind but not knocking me out. I can’t believe I followed a stupid squirrel here. Apparently it’s what I do at 2:30 in the morning when I can’t sleep.

I touch the back of my head where I hit it and wince as my fingers come away red with the blood oozing out of the wound. That’s when a strange man comes out of the back wearing a hood so all I can see is his nose. It looks just like my great-grandpa’s nose. What a weird thought. I’m losing too much blood, I need to get home. The only time I see my grandpa nowadays is at a special occasion. And even then it’s rare.

The strange man starts taking slow steps forward then pulls out an awful, jagged, sharp hook out of his cloak. So I do what any logical person would do. I scream. But before I can get up and run, he grabs my hair and in one big wave, brings down the hook. I think he’s going to kill me, so imagine my surprise when he just cuts off a small bit of my hair. He takes the strand and tosses it in the pot of bubbling liquid which then turns blue and puts out a bittersweet scent.

I look around the room for something, anything to defend myself with and see nothing but junk. Some fresh floor wax, a painting of someone swimming with dolphins, a box of pasta, nothing useful. I would have my knife with me, but the goat outside ate my knife and the black sheath after he grabbed it off my belt. Last time I was this weirded out I had just gone camping. I don’t talk about that day anymore. I look back to the old man stirring the pot of liquid just as he throws something else in, which makes it smell of a dumpster. I can’t believe I was gullible enough to follow a squirrel here.

I see a painting in the corner and frown. It looks like a giant wooden bird or something. The man apparently notices me looking because he just chuckles and says “it’s called an airplane. But you won’t see those for quite awhile. I mean you no harm, I’m just trying to get back to my time, dear.” I frown even deeper and glance down at the pot that has turned a color I can only describe as a sort of green, but not quite. Suddenly the sound of mosquitos and snoring fills the room. I look around for the source of the noise, panicking a little, when I start to smell chicken, salty air and rain. Next thing I know I wake up in the Lizard Cave, spent and tired. Little did she know she was actually about 2610 years in the future.

I get up and look around, slowly realizing this is most certainly NOT what the cave looked like when I last saw it. I step outside and see the strange man from the small house waiting for me, but he’s in very different clothes now, wearing strange blue pants and a brightly colored shirt. I frown and look around me, seeing what must be a strange carriage with the words “The Pelicans” painted on it. I glance around and see that the people who call themselves The Pelicans are talking and wonder if I should try to call out for my grandmother to ask for advice.

The man picks a bunch of grapes off a nearby tree and eats three grapes at a time, then picks up a coat and a red scarf, putting them both on and walking away. I don’t know what else to to, so I follow him. After a few minutes of walking in silence, passing a set of twins eating strange food on a bench and also wearing strange clothes when I hear a small sucking sound and my foot gets cold. I sigh. Of course my shoe got stuck in some mud. I quickly grab it and put it on then jog to catch up with the man.

I’m about to demand he tell me what’s going on when he suddenly turns around and stops dead. I barely stop in time to keep from bumping into him, but I’m so close I can see his nose hairs and I can tell he smells like fire. He takes a small pill out of his pocket and holds it out to me then points to a small building with the word “toilet” painted on the front of it. In a flash we’re both inside and I have no idea how but the fact that I suddenly appeared in a strange room with this strange man is not the strangest thing that’s happened to me today. Go figure.

He walks with feet as soft as fog and gets a glass of water from the sink and hands it to me before pointing to the pill again. No way I’m taking it. I watch as he goes to a small closet and pulls out a pillow and blanket. It’s pretty grounding to watch a strange man who looks astonishingly like your dead grandfather hand you a pillow and blanket and say “don’t worry, Butterscotch, I’m not the only surprise coming to you!” strange. My grandfather used to call me Butterscotch. I take the items from him and wince as I start to feel a toothache coming on and rub my cheek.

I glance around and see green droplets falling from the sink. No way am I laying down in here. The man takes his calloused hand and rubs my arm “take the pill” he says in my grandfather's voice “it will help with the pain.” he says, tapping my cheek lightly where the toothache is. I look around again, seeing the green liquid and dog hair on the floor and sigh, taking the pill he gave me. What have I got to lose anyway? I must already be hallucinating if I’m seeing weird metal carriages and clothes and my dead grandfather. The pill feels heavy as I swallow it and I frown. The man smiles and leads me back outside to sit by the pond and takes the blanket from me, laying it out and sitting down to watch the ducks.

I frown, starting to feel like it will be my permanente expression and sit with him silently. “If you have any thought, please let me know.” he says and hands me a pen and paper, somehow knowing I haven’t been able to speak since I was a child. I hesitantly write down a few questions and hand him back the paper, making him smile. “We are in the future. Your future.” he says, answering my first question “and yes. I am really your grandfather. I came here by accident awhile ago and just now figured out how to come back and get you to bring you back with me.” he says, giving me a sort of awakening as I look around at all the strange things. I quickly floss my tears, wiping them away before he can see them. I must really be tired if I’m crying.

I look around and observe more strange objects and people, seeing one man wearing a weird hat with the word “Stetson” on the side of it, another girl with a ring in her nose and another guy saying “sound check” over and over into some weird cone that seems to be amplifying his voice. I finally get a breath of relief when I see something familiar, although surrounded my more weird things.

A cart of food ranging from mashed potatoes to corn. I get up and rush over, making my grandfather chuckle “no need to take off like a turbine, I’m usually stranded on the sofa like a whale with a plankton's digestion” he says, none of which I understand, so I just point to the food and nod when he asks if I’m hungry.

While the man behind the cart gets the food, I look around at some of the trinkets he has, taking a liking to a strange metal duck sculpture that has a telescope for an eye. This world is strange. Just then some children run by, yelling and laughing while I stand still as a board, feeling like there’s an earthquake happening in my heart, which is probably the fourth time that’s happened today. I look up and the kids run back to a couple sharing a kiss and tug on the womans sleeve.

She sighs and pushes up her glasses, following the kids to the small shop full of toys. My grandfather hands me my bowl of food that I eat quickly. When did I get so starving? I barely glace up when another couple walks by and half listen as the man tells the woman that he is in shape, and that round is a shape.

It’s nearly sunset, which is weird because it was Saturday morning when I left my village. My grandfather and I walk as we eat, passing many other carts and shops, one selling books, another clothes, one selling strange foods carved into things, like hard boiled eggs carved into hard boiled minds, one selling paint, another selling crackers and cigarettes, whatever those are, and one selling various elephant things, like sculptures and paintings. That’s when the smell from within decides to show itself as I burp loudly as we pass a place selling palimpsests that describe wind.

We pass a house with a sign that says “Yard Sale” and my grandfather pulls me inside, picking up things from all over the house, showing me everything from cups to a piece of metal on a chain that says “California”. I must be dreaming. That’s when a young man comes out of the back carrying a flashlight and looking confused. My grandfather talks with him for awhile and I only half listen as the young man talks about how his family is moving to the mountains to ski, whatever that means.

I pick up a mason jar with a canal painted on the lid and smile softly as it reminds me of an old church in my village. As I look around the house I see many more strange things, picking up a piece of lace as I eat the rest of what my grandfather called “fried chicken”, seeing things that say “vitamins” and “spa” and “fumigate”, which I still have no idea what it means when I see a snake in the corner, gasping and throwing a jar of cinnamon from the table at it before realizing it was only fake and sighing, glad the young man didn’t see it happen, or he might have flipped like a switch and went from pleasant to furious in seconds.

It’s then that I jerk awake and gasp, blinking at the sun in my eyes and rubbing the sunburn that’s now on my neck. What a weird dream. That’s the last time I’m falling asleep at my post, even if I am just watching the Lizard Cave.

Thank you as always to @mariannewest for providing the prompts, and again, here is the original post

Photo credit here