A tarot reader aids a mysterious man who believes she is the only one who can help him return to his true home in the eerie Manaan caverns where they must fight the natural and supernatural to stay alive.
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Maxine Shepard is a tarot reader who h...
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The brooding image of Blamore stood motionless in the center of our path. The eerie blue light behind him showcased a menacing silhouette of his form. We were mere feet from the mouth of the cave, where the blue shone as if highlighting our exit. By turning the corner we could be free of this nightmare.
In a clear, all too familiar tone, what resembled Blamore's deep voice resounded throughout the passageway. "This is my home. Not yours." The figure stood motionless in our path as if taunting us, daring us to try and get past him.
"You don't belong here." The words hadn't fully escaped Blamore's lips as he rushed toward the figure, leaving me nearly blinded in his trail. "You're not taking what is mine."
"Wait," I called, trying desperately to keep up and prevent him from causing any harm.
In less than a split second, Blamore tackled the figure with great force, ramming the large man into the wall at the end of the space. "You're not me," he cried as he dropped the flashlight in favor of using his fists to throw blow after blow, connecting with its gut and ribs.
"Stop!" My voice tore from my throat with force, unaware of what to do or say to make the nightmare end. "Please, stop."
The flashlight rolled back and forth on the uneven ground, casting long, inhuman shadows upon the walls. It provided just enough light for me to visualize the utter blackness of the figure's eyes, its matted coarse hair and its incredibly unkempt eyebrows. "My home," it grunted as they tussled.
"No, I fought for this." Blamore growled through clenched teeth.
The figure defended itself with well-timed blocks and dodges, only grunting and panting through every jab. My mind quickly compared the similarities and differences between the men. With every throw of the fist, I became more convinced that Blamore had indeed changed.
As Blamore wrestled with his double, the earth violently shook beneath us, tossing me off my feet. I hit the ground with a heavy thud as rocks and sand rained down on us from the large cracks in the ceiling of the cave, surrounding us in dust.
The crunch of dislodged boulders falling and settling into their final resting place caught my attention as the sound came from the cave's opening. All I could envision is another collapse trapping us inside and taking away our only chance of escape.
I crawled on my hands and knees to peer around the corner at the dimming blue light, only to see the opening rapidly reducing in size due to the settling stones that collected there.
"It's closing!" I looked over my shoulder at Blamore who had escaped the clutches of his double and attempted to balance on his feet.
"Go, go, go." He shielded his eyes from the falling dirt and took one step before the stocky figure tackled him again, knocking him down. "Go, Max," he ordered while the figure tangled its hands inside the collar of Blamore's shirt. They wrestled under the falling debris, barely avoiding being crushed by dropping stone. "You have to end the cycle."
