ATLANTION - LAYLA BOOK1

Part 9 Layla

Layla groaned as she slowly opened her eyes. A beam of light filled with dust bunnies penetrated the thick roots above, casting a hazy glow over her face. Coughing, she felt the dry dirt crunch between her teeth. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy like it was weighed down by boulders. She was trapped, buried beneath the rubble.

The dust-filled air choked her, and she felt the sharp edges of the debris cutting into her flesh. Tears burned in her eyes, mixing with the dirt and leaving streaks down her face. She tasted blood in her mouth and knew she was injured.

"Please, someone help me," she whispered to herself, her voice a whisper.

But as she lay there, trapped and alone, she knew no one was coming to save her. She was on her own.

With a sudden burst of determination, Layla pushed against the rubble, ignoring the pain in her body. The dry dirt gave way beneath her hands. She gritted her teeth and pushed harder. "I have to get out of here," she thought desperately. "I can't give up."

She pushed and pushed, feeling the sweat pouring down her face, the hot tears streaking down her cheeks. She repeated the phrase "I can do this" like a mantra.

And then, just as she was about to give up, a glimmer of hope appeared. A beam of light filled with dust bunnies shone down, illuminating the dust and dirt.

Layla gasped, new strength flooding through her body. She felt a surge of determination. With renewed effort, she pushed and pulled. The debris shifted, sending dust and rubble cascading down around her. Suddenly, the ground gave way, and she plummeted into the darkness below.

The fall seemed to go on forever, and Layla thought she would never stop falling. Her sore body hit the ground with a sickening thud, feeling every bone in her body jarred by the impact. She lay there for a moment, disoriented and in pain.

Layla's battered body tumbled, pulled by the stream of eroding soil. Finally, she came to her senses, surrounded by a veil of steam and glowing amber lights. Everything she heard was a continuous roar and metal clanging. She found herself in an underground factory with walls covered by copper pipes that formed a vast web. Massive wheels twisted, and pistons pumped fluorescent boiling liquid into enormous glass tubes. The large panel near her had many air vents, the one at her back was open, rocks and debris, and dust still pouring out of it. Giant industrial furnaces, with gaping red mouths, spit hot metal lava, and fire, flowed like a hellish red river. The liquid metal filled the deep grooves in the floor and formed a net of deep orange steaming chasms. The temperature was unbearable; she felt like her hair was melting if she even tried to get too close to one. The mesmerizing game of darkness and red light was almost hypnotic. The grates resembled huge dragon teeth and created sinister shadows each time they opened and closed. The floor was made of polished ebony material resembling stone tiles covered with intricate runes and signs that would captivate anyone. So many bridges passed above the channels transporting the liquid metal. Layla kneeled on the chilly floor and touched one of the splendid designs.

As the bruises on her knees and palms stopped throbbing, Layla forgot to pay attention to the surroundings. At that moment, two brown leather boots with a dozen bronze buckles stepped in front of her, and she bounced away in fear. A peculiar, short purple leather skirt on a wire carcass followed, looking like a Victorian lampshade. Layla froze at the sight of the girl with a pink wig and a pixy face grinning at her. The striped top hat she wore was way too big, falling over her eyes and looking completely out of place. Later, Layla would learn that it was Herranuen's father's favorite hat.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" giggled the girl, showing her sharp canine teeth. "Right at dinner time, and I craved crisp bacon."

The twin young men at her back laughed.

They looked like blacksmiths straight out of a medieval illustration, with bodies built of steel, sculpted by years of hard work. The man on the left wore only leather trousers and bronze armlets, bangles, and rings in the shape of a dragon wrapped around his upper arm. He held a massive hammer in his hand that must have weighed a ton. Layla could smell the pungent aroma of cigar smoke emanating from him, mixed with the scent of motor oil from the machinery in the background.

As she gazed at his handsome face, a blush rose to her cheeks. He winked at her in response. His twin, on the other hand, was dressed like a 50s gangster, with short-cropped hair and a crisp suit. His colossal body shook with laughter, causing the pilot glasses on his head to fall to the floor with a clang. As he bent to pick them up, his brother smirked at him and put his hammer on them, crushing the delicate frame.

"You're an ass. Why did you do that? It was a limited edition. Not that a tasteless brute would understand," the gangster-dressed brother said.

Layla watched in horror as Herranuen pierced her own lip with her sharp canine. A drop of blood rolled at the corner of her mouth, which she then smeared across her lips, painting them red and sinister. Herranuen leaned in closer, her breath hot against Layla's skin as she inspected her face. Layla could feel the skin on her arms and neck crawling with unease.

The metallic scent of blood mixed with the sweetness of strawberries on Herranuen's breath made Layla feel sick to her stomach. She wanted to scream and push Herranuen away, but something in her gaze made Layla freeze in place.

She noticed the contrast of Herranuen's white teeth against her clownish red lips. Her sharp canines were now covered with blood mixed with pink lipstick. It was both charming and terrifying. Layla wondered if Herranuen was a monster or a madwoman. Her heart raced and sweat rolled down her forehead as Herranuen leaned in closer, inspecting her face at a breath's distance.

Layla held her breath, feeling Herranuen's gaze pierce through her. She could feel the madness in Herranuen's eyes, Layla sensed that Herranuen was not entirely in control of herself. There was a vulnerability in Herranuen's gaze that made Layla hesitate as if she was seeing a wounded animal in front of her.

As Herranuen leaned back, Layla relaxed, taking a deep breath, realizing Herranuen was not a villain after all, only a tortured soul in need of help. Layla wanted to reach out and comfort her, but she was afraid of what Herranuen might do.

Herranuen stepped back, her eyes never leaving Layla's. "You two better stop joking around," she said firmly. It was surprising to Layla that his midget girl was the owner of such a powerful and commanding voice.

Her words cut through the tension like a knife, and Layla realized that she had held her breath all this time.

"It was Zola's fault. She fell through that vent," one of the brothers replied, pointing to the pile of debris.

"Zola has had harsh deliveries from callers before, but she's never dumped anyone through pipes or vents," the Herranuen replied. The girl was visibly confused and intrigued by this situation.

Layla didn't understand what was going on, but she felt like these people were more likable than they appeared.

"I won't eat you. It's banter. Why are you here? Are you a spy looking for crafting schemes?" the girl asked, pouting her lips.

"A strange tree trapped me in the thicket, and I collapsed in here," Layla replied, unsure of herself. This scene was like something out of a dream spinner from Mr. Simon's stories. The cheerful brother approached her and extended his hand.

"I'm Farrar. What's your name, lovely lady?" Layla gazed at his tanned face and warm smile. She felt safe with him, even though he was a total stranger. "Layla Darkwoods."

"Let's not discuss it here, Farrar. The echo travels. Follow me, and not a sound until I say so," the midget girl said, commanding them.