Lying, cheating, manipulating bastard.
You couldn't describe your ex any better. If someone were to look those very words up in a dictionary, they'd surely find a picture of his smug, deceitful, disgusting, twisted little face.
"[Name], wait," he gasped as he stumbled from your shared bed, the bedsheet wrapped hurriedly around his body. He chased after you as you weaved through the apartment, snatching your keys from your table with the idea of storming out. "It's not what it looks like, I—"
You spun around, cheeks flushed red, eyes glassy with tears that threatened to spill over. You squared up to him, your keys pressed between your fingers, ready to strike your ex in a violent, horrible punch if he dared to try and touch you.
"Not what it looks like?!" You repeated, exasperated with heartache. He shrunk back, his mouth rapidly opening and closing as he whirred for an answer, a response that could placate you. But there was no placating you; there was no coming back from this. Ever. "Tell me, Harry," you scoffed, now gesturing to the bedroom you had exited from, "what was that then? Enlighten me with your words."
"It... I don't feel anything for her, she tricked me." Harry mumbled, his eyes not looking into yours when he spoke, a known indication of his that he was lying. You didn't even have to listen to his excuse to know that he wasn't being truthful. His face said it all. "I don't even know her that well!"
You tried to stop yourself from laughing, but you couldn't help it. It sounded strained, wounded, broken. You stared furiously at Harry, ignoring the freckles dotting his cheeks that you loved so much, ignoring the way his eyes held so emotion that used to be full of love. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? I hate you!"
You pushed past him, your shoulder knocking into his. He flinched, stumbling back and reaching out to grab you, but you'd already advanced towards the front door. Your bags were scattered haphazardly in the hall, making it tricky for him to step over with the bedsheet weighing him down. But you didn't care, you snatched your handbag and didn't dare to look back again. Fearing that you'd stay and listen to his deceitful words of you did.
"Wait, please, [Name], don't leave me, I'm begging you!" Harry cried out, his hand grabbing your wrist and spinning you around. You tried to swipe him with the keys, but he caught your other wrist, holding you in place. Trapping you. You struggled against him, desperate to pull back and flee through the door, but he was a lot stronger than yourself. "You're always working, you're always so busy. I met her at one of your shows—"
You felt the tears burn as they rolled down your cheeks. "At one of my shows?" You whispered, distraught. And suddenly you felt violently sick. You hadn't performed a professional show in theatre for a couple months—production took a long time, with each show being 2 hours long, all full of song and dance. How long had it been since he had met her? How many times had they done this behind your back?
Harry realised his mistake almost instantly, his face paling. He nervously licked his lips, his eyes falling down to the keys in your hand. "I was lonely, and we were just talking at first!" He eagerly defended, as if anything he was saying would make you feel better about being cheated on. "We exchanged numbers and met up for drinks a few times, and then one thing led to another and—"
"And you fucked her in our bed!" You concluded loudly, hotly, steam rising from your ears. You started to struggle again. "Let me go, Harry. I want to leave."
Harry furiously shook his head. "No," he replied stubbornly, "because I know you'll walk out that door and you won't ever come back."
"That's what you deserve!" You cried out, pulling and tugging, trying to kick your feet so you could run, flee from the apartment that you shared. You wouldn't have anywhere else to go—your parents lived a few city's over, and the theatre closed an hour or so ago. You could easily find a hotel to stay in for the night, but where would you go after that? Hotels were grossly expensive, and you couldn't afford to keep staying there until a more suitable option came up.
Harry suddenly swung you around, your back hitting the wall. You gasped at the impact, feeling that bruises may form from his roughness. You regained your composure and glared at him, practically seething with anger. He towered above you, your hands raised to the sides of your head, and he leaned in closer. Harry pressed his lips to yours, trying to ignite passion from within.
You shook your head wildly, willing him off of you.
Harry pulled away, frustrated and running quickly out of options. "I don't know what you want from me," he grunted, now releasing you, but standing firmly in the way so you couldn't get past again. His shoulders were tense and square, meaning barging him out the way would be pointless. "This is the only time I ever slept with her!"
You threw your keys at him, watching with a slither of satisfaction as they caused a red mark to appear on his face. "Oh, poor you," you harshly mocked, "and would you have slept with her again if you could have? Would you have felt guilty for betraying me like this?"
Harry looked away. "No," he weakly answered, "I would have cut her off, I would have felt awful for doing this to you!"
You scoffed at his response. He had avoided looking at you. Again. He was lying to your face, and that only made your heart shatter even more. You believed him when he said it was the first time, that was sincere, but this? You knew he only felt regretful because he was caught, and given the chance he'd do it again.
"You're a liar."
Harry snapped his head towards you, his frustration increasing. "What did you expect of me? You were kissing other guys on stage! Who knows what you did during rehearsals?"
You were practically vibrating now. "Don't you dare try and turn this on me! I never slept with someone else! My kisses were meaningless, advancement for a performance! A mutual agreement between actors that it means nothing at all!" You shouted, fingers curling into your palms. "It's not my fault that you're so damn insecure."
Harry threw his hands up, a signal that he was losing the argument—not that he'd have any chance at winning. "You're impossible to please," he sneered, "I've supported you for so many years , emotionally, physically and financially while you chased some childish dream to act like someone else! Your head is so far in the clouds it's not even back down in reality with me anymore! You're exhausting! It's like you'd rather play pretend with goblins than live a normal life with me!"
You puffed out your chest at his harshness. His words definitely stung. They hit a sensitive spot that wounded you, even more so than his infidelity. You'd been discouraged from pursuing performance as a career ever since you were a little girl, warned that it wouldn't amount to anything other than debt. It was only within the last year that you had started to prove them wrong, that you were talented and almost always the main character from your efforts. And to have your, supposed, number one supporter recite these words of cruelty to you, it felt like a major slap in the face that he'd never believed in you at all.
"At least the goblins care about me," you hissed, your vision incredibly blurred with tears. You didn't dare to rub your eyes, knowing Harry would only take this as an indication to try and hug you. And you didn't want his embrace. You didn't want him to touch you, not after you'd seen the way that woman had wrapped herself up in his arms, singing lustful praises in his ear. "The goblins wouldn't cheat like this."
"Just think about this from my perspective!" Harry argued, now sounding tired from repeating himself. "You never have any time for me anymore, it's like you're deliberately pushing me away. It feels like you deliberately pushed me into Casey's arms."
You frowned, shaking your head. "You don't have a perspective, and you don't have an argument. You lie so much that you actually start to believe yourself. You're disgusting."
"I wish you'd just listen to me! I wish you'd forget about performing; all those characters, all the times you danced and sung and played pretend with fairies and unicorns, and stupid goblins—"
You were pulling your hair from extreme frustration. You felt like you were a child again, being scolded by your parents for always being away with the fairies and never paying attention. For all the times your teachers would tell you off and punish you for doodling in your books when something had inspired you to do so.
And you don't know why you said it. It felt like hot fire on the tip of your tongue. Perhaps you were completely finished with this argument. You were exhausted from trying to leave and being pushed backwards, trapped in your own apartment because your ex fiancé was so incredibly selfish.
But you did say it.
"And I wish the goblins would take you away, right now! " You practically screamed, cutting him off entirely and causing his eyes to widen at your outburst. You spun around on your heel, burying your face into your hands and letting out almost hysterical sobs.
Your heart was shattering, and all you could do was cry and let it hurt you from within. You'd half expected Harry to embrace you from behind, to try and soothe you with calmer words, to backtrack on everything cruel he had just said.
But silence filled the room. All that was heard was your broken sobs, the occasional hiccup and the inability to breathe properly. You remained with your face covered for a few minutes, tears leaking through the gaps in your fingers, and when you suddenly felt alone, you encouraged yourself to turn around again.
And Harry wasn't there. He was gone, along with the bedsheet that had shielded the last of his dignity.
You rubbed your eyes furiously, wiping away the tears that refused to stop. You listened closely for any movement inside the apartment, but it was as quiet as ever. Only the buzzing from the traffic outside your window could be heard, for it overlooked a Main Street that was constantly busy. Yet, there was no sign of Harry anywhere.
You should have felt relieved that he'd finally left you alone. You should have grabbed your keys from the floor and headed for your car, which was parked in the buildings designated parking space. You shouldn't have thought twice about his disappearance.
Yet, something felt... off.
Despite your aching chest, you felt concerned for Harry's lack of presence. Where had he gone?
Then, a scuffling from behind the sofa drew your attention. You inhaled deeply, staring at the space for a beat. You stepped closer slowly, peering behind the sofa, expecting to see Harry crouched behind there. You wouldn't put it past him to do something as childish as hiding from you. But he wasn't there, the space was empty. You stood straight.
A cackle sounded from behind you. You spun around immediately, goosebumps littering your skin in that very moment. "What... hello? Who's there?" You called out, wary of your apartment that used to be so cosy, and now it felt bitter and cold. It was like someone had intruded, while you were still there. But how was that possible? You hadn't heard the front door open or close at all.
Something darted from one side of the room to another. A small, hairy creature, laughing spitefully as it ran. You shrieked loudly, jumping back to create some distance as it hid itself behind the bookshelf with all your favourite novels and stories.
You stumbled back, legs feeling weak. Then, your back collided with something. A wall. No. You were still in the middle of the sitting room. You turned around, your breaths coming out in frightened huffs as you turned to face the intruder. And now you were aware that you had abandoned your bag in the hall, which lay beyond this stranger, because within your bag was your phone. You wouldn't be able to call for help, you were helpless.
You tilted your head back, eyes falling onto the sharp features of this stranger. Tall, proud stance, powerful eyes with one pupil slightly larger than the other. You shivered at the amused curl of his lips. His hair was wild, each strand various lengths, all of them giving you 80's punk vibes. And his clothing was intriguing; medieval-like, with a ballooned sleeved tunic and a black vest, black leggings and knee-height black boots. Over his shoulders was a cape, one that created an air of mystery.
"You..." you stammered, suddenly finding it hard to speak.
"Me," he said with a wry grin, his sharp teeth showing at his smile. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes roaming your shivering figure. You shrunk back at this, feeling rather self conscious.
"Who are you?" You finally asked. He had yet to harm you, attack you, or show any sign of malicious intentions. He just stood there, observing, waiting for you to say something. If he wanted to raid your apartment, he wasn't showing any desire to.
"I am the Goblin King," he spoke with a voice full of authority, and it matched his aura. He gave a deep, mocking bow, one so dramatic that it reminded you of the bows you would give to an audience at the end of a performance. "And you summoned me."
You blinked rapidly. "Summoned... you?" You repeated, finding your mind blank. Everything was happening at once, and it was tricky for you to attempt to keep up with. So much information in such a small brain. Your thoughts echoed your words spoken to Harry, "I wish the goblins would take you away, right now", and you couldn't stop the groan that slipped your lips.
You shook your head, feeling completely in denial. "I didn't mean it," you quickly said, shooting a pleading gaze to the Goblin King, who scrutinised you with an imploring look.
"Oh, you didn't?" He hummed. "It's a pity that our words hold so much meaning, isn't it?"
You stammered again, face flushing. "Please, please can I have Harry back. I swear I didn't actually want to send him away—I swear I didn't mean to cause trouble for your goblins to take him."
The Goblin King tilted his head to the side, a certain mischief in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. You held your breath, hoping that this conversation would go in your favour.
"You want him back, even though you were planning on leaving him?" He mused, tapping his chin in thought. But you knew he was pointing out the obvious. How he knew of your argument, you didn't know, and you were too scared to ask, fearing you'd find something out that you didn't want to know. "He cheated on you, [Name]. Tell me, why would you want him back after he lied so much to you?"
You opened your mouth to argue your case, but found yourself at an immediate loss for words. Truthfully, you didn't want him back. You wanted him to suffer the way he had caused you pain in the last hour or so. You had been so happy to return home to him, to pepper his face with kisses, to share the good news of your next show with him, to talk endlessly about his day because you were always so interested. But he had thrown away your love for him the moment he connected with Casey, the moment he arranged to exchange numbers with her, the moment he started sneaking around behind your back.
"He..." you failed to follow up. The Goblin King knew this, his expression said it all. You looked down in shame, guilty that you had basically sold your ex fiancé away to an otherworldly being. "I just..."
The Goblin King stepped forwards, his fingers gently lifting your chin up so you could look at him. You whimpered at the close proximity, alarm bells ringing in your head. He seemed to admire your face at close range, and he licked his lips in such a sensual way it made you shiver.
"Forget about him," he encouraged softly. "Go and explore your new script. Embody the character you were scripted as. Put on the best performance possible and forget about him."
You felt your tears returning. "I can't," you replied weakly, "leaving him here is different to leaving him in another world... he'll be stuck there."
"Exactly," the Goblin King answered. "He won't ever break your precious little heart again. You'll be safe from his lies and deceit. So, go and take a scented bath with your bubbles and soaps—listen to your music... let him fade from your mind."
You lifted your hand, carefully pulling his gloved fingers from your face. He frowned at your actions, and once again you refused. You couldn't leave Harry to suffer like that—you wanted revenge on your own terms, not being punished by the Goblin King. You wanted him to see you thrive without him, not be trapped somewhere else entirely. You wanted him to regret ever meeting you.
Before you could protest further, the Goblin King materialised a crystal ball in the palm of his hand. He rolled it around on his fingers, and you watched, mesmerised as it ran like silk over his hand. Like magic.
"What is that?" You asked, your eyes glued to the ball as it moved.
"A crystal ball. Nothing special," the Goblin King mused, playing off his talents with a cheeky smirk. "Look into it, and tell me what you see..." He then stopped playing with it in his hand, and held it steady so you could peer into the glass orb, eye lashes fluttering softly.
It revealed you, standing on a stage and holding an award. You waved charismatically at the applauding audience, flowers flying past you and landing at your feet. People cheered your name. You curtsied and laughed, posing for cameras and holding the award for the audience to admire and praise you for.
The Goblin King saw how enraptured you were with the dream he had presented to you. "Take it," he urged alluringly, now holding the ball out for you to pick up. You lifted your hands numbly, fingers twitching to pluck the crystal ball from his fingers, and just as you were about to hold it in your hands, you stepped back, frowning.
The dream vanished from within the crystal ball.
"I can't leave Harry, not like this," you said with an apologetic tone. "I appreciate the crystal ball, I truly do... but I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I'd cast my ex away so easily and not tried to get him back."
The atmosphere shifted, and you watched with rising fear as the Goblin King's face fell into a scowl. "Look, he's there," he pointed somewhere behind you, causing you to turn, suddenly filled with hope that Harry had been summoned back again. Instead, there was no Harry, and your apartment had vanished. You were now standing in a meadow, surrounded by glittery flowers that attracted various magical creatures. "He's in my castle."
You looked past the meadow and spotted the Goblin King's domain, towering in the far distance, protected by an intricate-looking labyrinth. You swallowed nervously, realising how far the castle was, and you began to wonder how much time it would take to get there.
But if Harry was waiting for you, then you couldn't be swayed by a labyrinth like this.
The Goblin King placed his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to turn back and face him. He was smiling again, this time without any malicious intent, and instead there was worry. "Go back home while you still can. My labyrinth is dangerous and complicated. Only fools enter it." His thumb moved gently to your face, wiping away a tear that you hadn't realised had fallen. "My offer to give you your dream still stands if you just obey me."
"I'll complete your labyrinth," you said quietly, ignoring the way he continued to try and tempt you into backing down. "It can't be too difficult. I've done mazes before..."
Your pep talk was supposed to encourage you, but instead it made you feel unsure.
The Goblin King gestured to a clock, which had materialised in the air beside him. He pointed to the time, his smirk returning. "You'll have 13 hours to complete it and find your beloved ex, or else he and yourself will be trapped in my labyrinth forever."
You blinked rapidly, watching as he suddenly faded in front of your eyes, his words echoing inside your ears.
You inhaled deeply and glanced around, no longer seeing an indication that your apartment was still there. You had truly entered the Goblin Kings domain, and now the only way to leave would be by finding and saving Harry.
With no other option, you started to make your way towards the labyrinth wall, praying you could complete it as you had said.