April 30, 2017
2:11 am
Passing through the earth was the scariest thing Stan ever been through. He became rigid on the way down. Dirt filled his ears and nose. Roots tore at his clothes as if Death themself was undressing him: You don't need a jacket in Hell, Stan thinks now that it's over and he has time to humor himself. It's toasty all the time. And the lakes? Naturally heated by fire. You'll never have to worry about your eyes turning to stone or your lips turning blue here, my boy.
When Stan finally did hit bottom, it became clear it was a personal Hell. After spending ten minutes coughing, sucking in acidic air, and beating dirt out of his hair, he saw how dark it truly was. He'd spent so many years in darkness, debilitated by his own twisted thoughts, and now here it was before him: a black canvas with which he could feel them - invisible creatures that hid from him, terrorized him, understood him.
"Hello?" he called out.
A small echo greeted Hello? back to him. Over the next few weeks, Stan would become used to that echo as if it were another person to talk to. He learned not to mind his own voice so much.
He felt around his pants. Miraculously, his phone remained in his pocket.
Battery: 77%
No Service
He turned on the flashlight. If the echo didn't already confirm it, he could see he was in a kind of cave.
A wild rabbit, it's eyes sudden yellow from the light, trembled when it saw Stan.
"Hey, little guy," Stan whispered, stepping softly toward it, "Did you fall down here, too?"
The rabbit leaped from him into deeper darkness. Parts of him wished it was a white rabbit. He'd follow it and eat cake and drink tea and play croquet with the Queen of Hearts and when he woke up, Kyle would be hovering over him with a frown: Why would you fall asleep when I'm in the middle of talking to you?
This rabbit had to be magic too though, he decided. It managed to get here when it could have easily suffocated on the way down.
He followed it.
...
The terrain was mostly flat, with some winding tunnels that he was too scared to explore. The rabbit was gone. Every time it saw Stan, it jumped around a corner. Now it wouldn't be seen at all.
Battery: 70%
One path looked like it headed up at an angle. The soil at the bottom was tender and went up to his ankles. He climbed with one hand.
(holy shit i might get out of here holy shit)
It wasn't as long as he imagined. When he reached the end, he was met with cold and packed dirt, still frozen from the long, Colorado winter they just had. It almost turned his hand to ice when he touched it.
"Fuck!"
He raised his phone up.
No Service
He could still call 911. At least he would be easier to dig up now when they found him.
He punched the numbers in and pressed the phone to his ear. Before it could ring, he felt the phone heat up instantly. There was screaming coming from the speaker. When he looked at the screen, a face
(my face
???????????)
smiled at him.
Something was wrong with it: his eyes were blacked out. Everything around him was striking, black void.
There was screaming again, and the glass cracked across the screen.
He fell to the side, rolling down the tunnel. He thought he heard laughing as he landed on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The flashlight beamed up like an alien cone of light. The rabbit's face appeared, nose twitching.
Stan was crying now. He wished more than ever that someone would flip up a light switch and yell Surprise! And he wouldn't have to sit alone in the dark with that nightmare of an image brandished into his brain over and over again.
With a shaking hand, he reached out. The rabbit darted off. He wrapped his fingers around the edges, it was normal temperature now and tilted the screen up hesitantly. The image was gone, replaced by a picture of Kyle that Stan didn't remember taking. Kyle wasn't looking at him. He was sitting on his bed, hands folded in his lap, looking as if he'd been crying. The screen crack spidered across the top of his head.
Battery: 40%
No Service
He could try. It might be stupid. But he could try.
He turned the flashlight off and opened up Messages, and went to the one from Kyle he hadn't opened yet:
6:20 pm - Kyle: Hey Stan... I am so sorry about today. I know that you put your heart on the line today. I was wrong to react the way that I did. I've never second-guessed wanting to be with you forever. I'm just scared. You know that I let my anxiety get the best of me sometimes...
Please call me soon. I want to work this out. I love you. So much.
May 1, 2017
2:31 am - Stan: KY?LE HELP
Message failed to send. Try again?
He tried calling. Not even a ring.
Call failed. Try again?
2:34 am - Stan: kyle hope you get this message and i am not joking PLEASE I AM STUCK DOWN BELOW SOMEWHERE AND I CANT GET OUT
Its like some sort of weird underground thing and theres different paths but im lost now and i tried to call 911 but something is wrong something is so off about this and im so scared im going to die please please i hope somehow this gets to you
Message failed to send. Try again?
"Fuck!" Stan screamed again.
Call failed. Try again?
...
Battery: 29%
No Service
He could feel himself already going insane. He walked around in the dark, hoping to run into something useful. To save power he abandoned the flashlight, feeling the walls for guidance.
He murmured as many state capitals as he could remember to combat the anxiety: "Denver, Colorado. Lansing, Michigan. Little Rock, Arkansas..."
When the cities were repeated enough, he moved on to poetry.
"If I could write the beauty of your eyes, and fresh numbers number all your graces..."
Small patters skipped in front of him. Maybe the rabbit was back? He knew he was entering some kind of alcove, by the feeling of it.
He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight once again. Before him was a small coffee table with a purple cloth. Skulls and candles lined the front of it. Broken glass scattered over leather-bound books and photos of naked women. Stan rolled his eyes.
"Of course," Stan, said to the rabbit, sitting in the corner, "what kind of shrine would it be if it didn't have titties?"
When he saw matches, he immediately drew one and lit the candles. He shut his phone off. He studied a photo in the center for some time: a young man with dark eyes, a long beard and a triangular face. He looked almost like a goat - all he needed were horns. Goat Man looked through Stan as if he knew all of his secrets. To hell with your therapist - I'm seeing you now.
He went to his knees and hovered the candle over tiny glass bottles of amber liquid (Drink Me!). He pulled the cork out and sniffed. Whiskey. It went into his pocket.
Most of the pages in the books were yellowed, journal pages in a language he'd never seen before. He looked to Goat Man: "Are these yours? You look like you wrote some sick shit. I wish one of these pages would tell me how to get out of here."
Stan continued rummaging around the table, hoping to find more candles, matches, or notes. There weren't as many candles as he hoped - he'd have to make them last. He lifted the cloth. There were more papers, silver crosses, photos... and oats.
"Holy shit." He took the can and found a box of rice and one protein bar behind it. He wasn't hungry now, due to shock, but at least there would be something for later. Wedging the candle into a golden holder, he let out a long, somewhat relieved exhale. Whoever was here before, whoever was running away, or hiding, or became trapped like him, was decent enough to leave this behind.
Stan laid out some oats for the rabbit and watched as it carefully chewed away.
"Would it be cliché for me to call you Peter?" Stan asked.
The rabbit leveled its gaze with black eyes.
"I think Ori is a better name for you, anyway. It means "my light" in Hebrew."
Stan rose, candle out in front, ready to find another way out.