Sweet Deception

If something seems too good to be true, you should take a good, long look at it. You might be right. And if you’re not? Well, you haven’t lost anything, have you?

. . . . .

Robin groaned and pushed herself to her feet. She looked back at the slide she’d fallen down. It was good that she hadn’t fallen to her death, but the slide was a bumpy ride. Her butt could attest to that.

This room was lit by sconces as well, appearing to be some kind of lobby. Cushy furniture was gathered in the center of the room, and a long, high desk took up one wall. Opposite the desk was a large fireplace, a roaring fire shedding its light and heat on the room. If this were a hotel, this room would be the lobby. The slide she came from was just a hole in the wall like someone had torn out a circle of it. The drywall edges were ragged and torn.

Robin bit her lip. “Where am I now?” She skittered to the wall next to the slide and listened. No sign of the creature following her down. She sighed, a hand on her chest. She picked up the shield from where it’d fallen and sat on a couch near the fire. “This place isn’t so bad. There doesn’t seem to be anyone here.” She did notice that there were three doors out, but there were no timers that might force her to choose now.

She lay on her side, curling up into a ball. “I could really use a break. I just… I can’t handle all this stuff one after the next.” She closed her eyes for a while. Then she heard a soft voice, distant. It was singing. Her heart seized up, thinking back to every horror movie she’d ever watched. Singing in the distance was never good. And it was usually a little girl’s voice because the disparity between the cuteness of a child and whatever horrible thing was about to happen made it creepier.

It was too quiet for her to tell who was singing, though. She grabbed up the shield and hugged it close while moving towards the wall. Nobody else was in the room. “Where’s it coming from, then?” Her gaze fell on the three doors. She grimaced. “Now I have to check it out… I really don’t want to.” Why in the world did they have to make her do this alone? She’d really really like Graham or Orion to be here. At least to have someone to hide behind.

The singing didn’t stop and likely wouldn’t until she found the source. That’s just how these things went. She approached the door on the left, always keeping the shield between it and her. She dared not touch it. At this rate, she was going to develop a phobia for doors. The singing grew louder. It wasn’t a girl’s voice. It sounded more like a man. Not that deep but definitely a man’s voice. And it seemed kinda familiar.

She furrowed her brow and moved to the next door, listening closely. The voice was louder and she could almost make out words. She tried the third door, but the voice grew weaker. She gulped. “Okay, so it’s the middle door. I think I don’t want to pick that door.” It just didn’t seem like a good idea. Empty rooms void of danger were her favorite.

She knelt on the floor, looking underneath each door in turn. The first had a light behind it; the third, a slight breeze. The second was too dark to see anything. She stood and chewed on a nail. “Light or breeze? I’m not sure either of them mean anything good, but—” She stopped as the voice grew a little louder.

She recognized it. “Daddy!?”

The world expanded as energy pierced him and flowed through every part of his body. He could smell the soot on Orion from across the room, the muted hum of the fire becoming a roar, every sensation magnified until it almost hurt. And yet, the ache in his side where the stab wound had almost healed faded, leaving only cool bliss.

He’d done it. “Yes!” He leapt up, bouncing on his toes. “Man, I feel great! And I did it without the scripture!” It seemed that practice was the only thing needed. The previous circulations had removed enough impurities that he could now draw in energy on his own. Not easily, of course. He’d sat there for at least an hour, focusing on that task, until anything had happened.

Orion looked up at the commotion. “You did it?”

Graham grinned. “Yep. Check this out.” He leapt, launching upward… then hit his head on the ceiling. “Ah!” He fell, landing on his hands and knees. He blinked. “Oh! It doesn’t hurt. Nice.”

Orion laughed. “So, what now? You want to give the spell a go?”

Graham stood, feeling the energy leave him. “No, I’m gonna try the next door. It’s probably best we get out of here, soon. Besides, there’s something I want to get.”

“The sigil book?”

“No, not that.”

“Ah, guess I’ll have to get it myself,” Orion muttered.

Graham scratched his cheek, circling the pile of fish that he’d made when he emptied the shield for Robin, and stood in front of the fire. “You interested in sigils? I don’t think they’re very easy to learn. It might not help at all.”

Orion shrugged. “Even so, I’m interested.”

“I see.” He moved to one of the unopened doors and waved a hand. “With any luck, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See you. Though, if I can get this spell down, I’ll be taking the last door.”

Graham opened the door.

“Good luck!” Orion shouted after him.

Robin opened the second door, revealing an unlit hallway. She walked quickly, her heart beating. “Is that really dad? Did they take him, too?” He hadn’t been at the clearing, but they’d never said they hadn’t kidnapped more people. Her eyes teared up. “I’m coming, daddy.”

The hallway had a few twists and turns before it came to an end with a single door. Soft light poured from the keyhole and the gap underneath. His voice was clearly audible. He was singing a lullaby. The one he always sang to help her sleep. She gripped the handle and burst through. “Dad!”

And he was there. Sitting in a rocking chair beside the bed, flipping through a book and singing. Tears rolled down Robin’s face as he turned to her. He was a gentle-looking man with light brown hair and deep laugh lines in his cheeks.

He smiled and spread his arms. “Robin. There’s my little girl.”

Robin whimpered and launched into his arms. “Oh, Daddy! I’ve missed you! When did you get out of the hospital? Are you alright, now?”

He rested his chin on her head, holding her close. “I’m just fine. Clean bill of health, as you can see.”

She wept, her tears staining his shirt. She’d never been so relieved as she was right now. Now that he was here, everything would be okay. She truly believed that.

“Why don’t you have a seat,” he said, lowering her to the edge of the bed. He sat beside her and helped her take off the shield and remove the spikes she’d stuffed in the waist of her pants, setting them on the bed.

Robin rubbed her eyes, hiccoughing. “I’m so glad you’re here. Well, I mean, not that I wanted you to get kidnapped or anything…” She giggled. “I just meant that… well, I’m glad you’re here, with me.”

He rubbed a thumb on her cheek, wiping a stray tear away. “I’m glad to be here, too. This is a wonderful place.” He motioned to the rest of the room. It was elegant with warm colors and comfy furniture. Paintings of beautiful landscapes decorated the walls and a bookshelf sat in the corner, filled to bursting. A table that she hadn’t noticed before was in the center of the room, burdened with a feast; Pastas, breads, a whole roast turkey, soup, sugared desserts, and more.

Robin stood and grabbed up a crystal goblet, draining the contents. She set the glass down and sighed. “I haven’t had anything to drink in… probably a whole day!” She looked around the room once more and frowned. “Why is this all here?”

Her father grabbed one of the seats and pulled it out for her. “Go ahead, have a seat. It’s just about time for supper.”

Robin blinked. “Oh, uh… alright. But after we eat, we need to leave. I can’t imagine what will happen if we stay here too long…” She sat, noting the three forks and two spoons set out for her. There were even two different kinds of knife. Neither of which she knew the purpose of.

Her father sat as well, across from her. “Leave? Why would we do such a thing? This is a wonderful place. A perfect vacationing spot. There’s no need to leave.”

Robin’s brows nearly crossed. “What? What… are you talking about? Vacation spot?” Her jaw fell and she half-stood, leaning over the table. “You’re not on any medication, are you? Because of the heart attack?”

His brows raised. “What? Heart attack? I assure you I’ve never had anything of the sort.” He smiled. “Sit down and enjoy your food, sweetie. You don’t want it to get cold, do you?”

Robin sank slowly back into her chair. “He doesn’t remember the heart attack? And… it’s kind of strange that he called me ‘sweetie’. He’s never called me that before.” Her eyes moved about the room, looking for any bottles of medication, but found nothing.

The knife flashed as her father picked it up. “Would you like some turkey?” He began slicing the roast bird and piling it up on his plate. “It’s quite delicious.”

Robin shook her head and went about filling her plate. They ate in silence, the only sound that of silverware scraping plates. Robin finished her plate and stood, hands on the table. “We should go. Really, dad, we can’t stay here.”

He continued eating as if he hadn’t heard her. Her hands began to tremble and she brought them to her chest to keep them still. She took a deep breath and moved toward the door. “I’m going to go look for an exit. I’ll come back when I find something.”

He stood, knocking his chair over. “Hold on, now, sweetie. Let’s not be hasty.” She shivered at that word, ‘sweetie’. It was like cold slime crawling down her back. Unnatural.

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I-I may not look it, but I’m actually pretty… pretty strong now.” She clenched her hands together. “I’m stronger, now. I am. Graham said so.” She reached for the doorknob.

“Don’t you touch that door, young lady!” her father shouted. She froze. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. “It’s very disrespectful to ignore me like that.” There was anger in his eyes that she’d never seen there before. Her father wasn’t a man to get angry, even when she did something wrong. He always tried to talk to her and be upfront with his feelings.

Robin shrugged out of his grasp and tore the door open, racing down the hallway. Tears dripped from her cheeks. “That’s not my dad! It can’t be!”

His footsteps were loud and quick as he followed her into the dark hallway. “Don’t run from me, Robin! I’m only trying to do what’s best for us!”

Robin sobbed and turned a corner. “What’s wrong with this place? That… that can’t be my dad, but… if he’s not, then who is he?” She stumbled and skidded on her knees.

Her father—No, the impersonator—rounded the corner. “Robin, sweetie, come back to the room.” He reached out a hand. “That’s where we belong. Our new home. Don’t fight it.”

Robin sniffed, wiping her cheeks off. “You, you’re not my father. He never called me ‘sweetie’.” She sobbed into a hand. “He always called me ‘tweetie’. Cause I’m his little birdy.” She stood, wishing she hadn’t left the shield back in the room. “You’re not him! I should’ve known. He wouldn’t get out of the hospital so soon after a heart attack.”

He stepped forward. “Robin, you’re delirious. Let’s go back to the room and have a lie-down, alright?”

Robin slapped his hand away. “No! I’m not going back there! I’m not going anywhere with you, you… you fake!” She dashed away.

“You little bitch! I am your father and you will do as I say! Even if I have to make you!” He chased her.

Always move forward. No matter the resistance, it read. Graham scratched at the mark, grumbling about involuntary body art. He looked forward and sighed. Stairs again. He scaled them, checking the walls, the floor, the ceiling for signs of traps. He didn’t want to be caught unawares.

“Always move forward, huh? In other words, I’m gonna encounter things that will make me not want to move forward.” His mouth curled into a small smile. “Alright. Let’s see how much this room can throw at me. I can handle it, now.”

Knowing that super strength was just a circulation away gave him a deep confidence that he’d never had before. The power he had was paltry compared to what other Seekers must have, but it was still so much more than he’d ever felt.

He came to the top of the stairs. An open passageway stood before him, looking like a naturally occurring cave tunnel. It was lit by glowing gems embedded in the wall in clusters, like ore-veins in varying shades of green.

He took a few careful steps, wary but curious, and inspected one of the gems. It was rough, unhewn, and kind of lumpy. Still, it might have gone for a good price back in Attela. It was pretty enough, at least. He tried to pull it out, to no avail. It might be possible if he circulated, but he couldn’t afford to do that willy-nilly.

He shook his head and walked on. He caught something on the floor. A suspiciously raised stone. “A trap? Let’s see…” He knelt and examined the stone. It was uneven and natural-looking. However, where it met the floor, there were dark lines, as if it were set into the ground. “Some kind of pressure switch.” He grinned and tapped his nose. “Good eye, Graham. Good eye.” With a short hop, he cleared it and went on his way.

Further along, he spotted something shiny sticking out of the wall. He shifted onto his toes, in case he needed to run away, and crept closer, keeping an eye on his step. That’s what saved him. There was a tripwire at ankle height which shone when the light hit it at the right angle.

Graham gulped and began to sweat. “Really pulling out all the stops, aren’t they?” He found what had caught his eye earlier. Some kind of metal tube, sticking out from the wall. “What, another steam trap? Or, like, a flamethrower?” He didn’t want to find out. Carefully, he stepped over the trip wire. He continued forth with even more caution, moving at a snail’s pace.

When he came to a door, it was met with joy and relief. “Finally, something that isn’t a trap!” He’d noticed several others after the tripwire. It was surprising that he had noticed all of them, seeing as there were so many. They didn’t seem to be well hidden at all. Like they wanted to be noticed.

Graham calmed himself, prepping for whatever lay behind the door. “Just don’t be more traps. Please, I hate being on edge like this.” It was kind of out of place in this cave system-like hallway, and it looked different from the other doors he’d seen here in the tower. For one, it was made of metal. It was secured with a thick metal bar, which he could slide back to unlatch it.

His eyes narrowed. “Why does it need such a sturdy lock?” He gulped and slid it back, pushing the door open. It swung wide, noiselessly. The room within was wide and lit with crystals, like the path. There was a narrow path opposite him, like a crack in the wall. He’d have to squeeze through sideways to fit.

He heard a growl and lifted his eyes. A few meters up, there was a sort of shelf, upon which rested a panther-like creature. Golden fur, large teeth, pointed ears like a bobcat. Hundreds of pounds of murderous feline. It stood and hopped down, light as a feather.

Graham began to sweat. He gulped. “Now, I understand why the traps are so easy to see. They’re not there to stop me from moving forward. They’re there to stop me from moving back.” If he tried to go back to escape this horrible creature, he’d surely trigger one of the traps and die. It might be clever if it weren’t happening to Graham. Since it was, it was the most horrible, wretched thing anyone had ever conceived of.

The Golden Panther crept forward, eyes unwaveringly focused on Graham and head low to the ground. A low rumble emanated from its throat.

Graham grit his teeth and began to draw in energy. He had no choice but to fight!