Margie recognised the voice instantly and it felt as though she had been punched in the stomach by an invisible fist.
Wiping her mouth frantically like the kiss had somehow contaminated her with something awful she cast a glance in The Giant's direction. His eyes were open, helpless and hurt. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
Leaden with guilt, Margie's heart crashed painfully into her stomach.
The following morning Archie led the small but silent expedition along a narrow dry pathway that wound its way round the base of the mountain. They had seen nothing of the Pain Bearers since the previous day and, haunted by these poor beleaguered souls, were eager to put as much distance between them as they possibly could.
The hours dragged by and the landscape changed from the dry rocky desert to a predatory forest of thorns. No matter where the group stepped, the thorns seemed to wrap around their limbs and dig into their flesh. "I'm sure they're doing it on purpose!" snapped Margie, rubbing at yet another bleeding cut on her right leg.
"We’re nearly there," said Archie stopping for a moment to get his bearings. "The creature lives among the brambles. The more injuries you sustain en route, the more of a feast it has. Have you ever heard of symbiosis?"
"No," replied Margie. "And I probably won’t remember if you tell me."
Pretty soon they reached the entrance to a small cave. In the dim light the Luggers dropped The Giant onto the floor and stepped back. They were clearly afraid of the cave.
"You can’t just leave him there," gasped Margie.
"The Giant must enter alone," explained Archie. "We can wait for him outside."
"But he's unconscious," she cried. "Look at him. How is he supposed to do
anything
on his own."
"If you want The Giant to get better then you have to trust me," replied Archie to attempting cut a thorny branch off his breeches using one of his glove-knives.
Margie looked at The Giant lying death-like in the half light of the cave. There was nothing she could do for him on her own. She certainly couldn't carry him. Panic filled her as Archie and the Luggers started to make their way down the mountain. She had no choice but to leave him and hope that Archie was telling the truth.
The journey downhill was far quicker than the journey up. But was just as awkward and silent. Margie didn't actually care. Her thoughts were entirely focussed on The Giant. She needed him. She couldn't make it to The Darkest of All Places without him. She thought about the times she had taken him for granted and she felt wretched. If he came out of this in one piece, she would treat him differently. She would be kinder to him; more patient; and definitely more thankful.
"Are you sure he'll be okay?" she asked Archie, forgetting herself for a moment.
Archie didn't so much as glance in Margie's direction. "You should just hope he doesn't take his eyes off the creature; not for one second," he shrugged. "Or he’ll be devoured whole."
Phagge the Greedy One
Phagge the Greedy could smell a morsel of rotting flesh from miles away, so The Giant's body, putrefying in the doorway to his cave was like placing a bowl of food just out of the reach of a hungry dog. Drooling and rocking, the creature restlessly sniffed the air.
He had been waiting eagerly for The Giant's arrival; tracking his smell for several hours.
It had been a long time since he'd had a visitor. A couple of hundred years maybe? Or was it ten? He didn't know and he didn't really care. What he did care about was filling his hungry belly. He was tormented by The Giant's irresistible smell and was becoming increasingly agitated by The Giant's slow progress.
Unable to shuffle more than a few metres this way or that, Phagge had never stepped foot outside his cave. Part slug, part mole rat; his tiny head sat atop a large gelatinous body through which his internal organs could be seen pulsating. What's more, his short withered arms and legs appeared to serve no purpose whatsoever other than to render the creature immobile.
Holed up in the darkness, Phagge had no need for eyes; his nose was his window on the world. Filled with thousands of smell-receptors there was nothing Phagge the Greedy couldn't smell. Using his nose, he could tell that The Giant had been attacked and bitten by the Vermin and could even work out the distance, shape and position of his forthcoming visitor. He knew, for example, that The Giant was being carried on a stretcher and that his ravaged, lifeless arms were dragging along the dry, rocky ground beneath him.
And then, of course, there were the enormous, razor sharp incisors that protruded from his mouth.
Phagge inhaled deeply.
"My, my, my!" he rasped, suddenly enthused by what he could smell. "It needs my help."
He was referring to The Giant who had, it would seem, collapsed again only moments after entering the cave. Phagge looked all around him chuckling through a hideous smile, as though sharing a private joke among non-existent friends.
And then his demeanour changed in an instant. Like a box slamming shut, he was no longer laughing.
As quick as a blink, he snatched up a small creature that happened to be scuttling past and threw it with such force that it simply vanished, leaving nothing but a small patch on the wall.
"That's better," he wheezed.
He was irritated that The Giant had not made it further; annoyed because he wanted to sit and smell the air. He wanted to anticipate his impending feast. But now that The Giant was unconscious, he had to put some effort in. If he wanted to eat, he had to work for it. What's more he had to be quick. He needed to get The Giant moving before it was too late. He didn't want to lose The Giant to the Shadow Herders like he had some of his previous dinner guests. Close to death's death, they'd been snatched at the last moment and reassigned - some of the lucky ones to the higher planes, but most to the lower planes.
"Damn things!" he hissed. "Could have let me dined first!"
Eager not to make the same mistake again, and with not a minute to spare, Phagge started rocking his large glutinous body backwards and forwards. Slowly at first then gradually getting faster until, barely able to contain the drool which dripped from his lips in great viscous threads. He opened his mouth and emitted a deafening belch.
A blast of foul noxious gas blasted out of his mouth. It was like the tens of thousands of tonnes of decaying flesh that Phagge had consumed over the years had created some kind of repulsive olfactory ghost that he was now releasing in one fell swoop.
As The Giant lay unconscious, an odour from deep within the bowels of the caves wound its way down the labyrinthine tunnels like a great malodorous snake. Had The Giant been conscious he would have seen tens of thousands of panic stricken insects hurriedly evacuating the cave; scurrying for the safety of open space and fresh air.
Very quickly the sulphurous stench reached the stricken Giant and wrapped itself around his face like a giant claw. Instantly his eyes snapped open. His head snapped up. He was awake.
The odour was like nothing The Giant had ever smelt before. The physical pain of his wounds was instantly forgotten as the rancid stench tore at the flesh inside his nose and throat, and for several moments after awakening, The Giant fought its invisible grasp.
It didn’t take long for the fumes to disperse (as though they too were desperate to escape the enclosed space in search of fresh air) but they had done their job; The Giant was wide awake. He looked around him, unsure of how he had come to be all alone in the cave. Instinctively he called out for Margie. But there was no reply; only the hollow sound of his own voice bouncing backwards and forwards between the cave walls. He called again. And this time, there was another sound. Coming from deep within the cave. A voice perhaps? He wasn’t sure. There it was again; it sounded like singing. In the distance.
He struggled for a moment to rise to his feet, his poor decaying legs barely able to carry his weight. Unable to see anything in the darkness and not knowing in which direction he was heading, he cautiously fumbled forwards, stopping every now and again to listen. And although the song didn't get any louder, it didn't get any quieter either. And so he continued. He didn’t know who he was chasing or even why but with every step his body began to ache again, the anaesthetic of the stench wearing off.
Eventually, The Giant reached the end of the wall. With no clue as to which way he should go (and never having been particularly good at decision making) he fell to his knees, defeated. "Oh Margie," he whispered aloud. "I told you. I did tell you. I ain't never been good at nothing. I should've known this weren't a good idea, me being your friend an' all ..." He closed his eyes but before he succumbed to the pain again, he heard a voice. It was like that of an angel, calling to him. Gently. Softly. It was a warm hand this time, that pulled him forward.
You're closer than you realise
it sang.
A little further - just a few more steps - and you will be healed.
The Giant, buoyed by this promise, rose shakily to his feet and lurched unsteadily into the blackness.
The pain will be gone,
urged the voice.
You're nearly there.
The Giant took two more steps then suddenly felt a most intense pain in his eyes, as though they were being stabbed by shards of glass. It took him a couple of moments to realise that the pain was, in fact, being caused by a bright light. As his eyes adjusted, he could see that he was in the centre of a large chamber. Where the ground had, only seconds before, been solid, it was now ankle deep in some kind of debris. As he focussed more clearly he began to realise, with rising horror, that scattered all around him were the remnants of creatures. A multitude of bones, skulls and teeth ...
Had he the strength, he would have turned tail and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Where was this place of horrors? What had created such a nightmare scenario?
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Don’t be quick to jump to conclusions." The voice was deep and raspy yet surprisingly gentle, something which belied its alarming surroundings.
The voice belonged to Phagge; a mole-like creature which emerged from the shadows at the far end of the chamber. "You can’t believe everything you see. Look again."
The Giant looked at the floor again and to his astonishment, it was filled with leaves, twigs and moss. Whether it was relief or exhaustion, The Giant’s ravaged body fell to the floor. The ground was soft and the chamber around him spun. The Giant forced his eyes wide open. Part of him wanted to stay and let the creature just devour him. But another part of him wanted to run away. If only his body would let him.
Phagge fell forward onto his belly, a giant squirming maggot, and inched closer to The Giant. A piece of saliva drooled from his mouth as he eagerly sniffed The Giant’s wounds. "You’re lucky you made it here today. My, my ... "
The last thing The Giant saw before he passed out was Phagge’s ugly jaws looming down on him.
A fraction of a second later The Giant awoke. Panic. How long had his eyes been closed for? How could he have let it happen? Archie had given him strict instructions not to take his eyes off the creature for one second. Phagge was sitting inches from him, the stench of his breath overwhelming. Suddenly Phagge’s mouth opened wide, a great yawning chasm, and from within the slimy hole emerged a smaller, more repugnant looking face. The smaller face looked like that of a grotesque old man with pointed features and the sharpest, spikiest teeth The Giant had ever seen. The smaller creature snapped viciously at The Giant, like a rabid dog, until Phagge closed his mouth again. "Don’t mind him," said Phagge. "He’s still hungry! My, my. Always hungry. Never satisfied."
At the same moment, Phagge belched. The Giant pushed himself up and scuttled backwards until he hit the wall of the chamber. It was only then that he realised he felt no pain. He studied his arms and then his legs. The wounds had almost entirely healed.
"That's amazing."
"Nothing amazing about it," rasped Phagge. "This is what you came for isn’t it?" He pulled a face. "Let me tell you; you don’t have the nicest tasting flesh. Bitter. My, my, my."
Phagge started nibbling on his own arm, as though trying to grab a flea or tick. "You must never leave it that long again. You hear?"
"Who
are
you?" asked The Giant warily.
"Come now. What does it matter who I am? I don’t even remember myself."
"You
do
know who you are."
"I know who I
used
to be. My, my, my ... all these questions. Your flesh is healed. My belly is full."
"Are you going to hurt me?"
"You believe far too much of what you’re told. Let me tell you. You mustn’t believe anything that you’re told or even what you see. Blink. Quickly ... now. Do as I say!"
The Giant blinked and when he opened his eyes he let out a small cry. Sitting there in front of him wasn’t Phagge the Greedy, but his beloved twins, Lilly and Milly. No longer conjoined, they sat side by side, holding hands and smiling serenely. And although The Giant couldn’t see their mouths moving, he could hear their sweet voices whispering to him, "where are you? We’re waiting for you."
"Tell me where you are," cried The Giant suddenly filled with joy. "And I’ll come for you. I promise I will."
The Giant spun around quickly looking for a doorway. He needed to get out. He needed to find his twins. But there wasn't one. Not anywhere. Only a wall. And when he turned back to his beloved twins, they were gone. And once again sitting before him was the repulsive maggot.
"You see," he rasped. "Nothing is as it seems."
"How did you do that?" asked The Giant desperately.
"How did I do what? I did nothing. It was you that did the seeing."
The Giant slumped back down.
"Don’t worry," said Phagge. "You will find them. But things must change. You’ve been blind. You are surrounded by fakeness and falseness and that will stand in your way. My, my, my ... you have been a fool."
"Who, who?" cried The Giant. "Who’s been standing in my way?"
"The very people you’ve trusted."
The Giant frowned. "Not Margie."
A long silence followed then at last Phagge answered:
"You believe what you want to believe. I can’t tell you what to believe. But let me tell you something. My, my, my ... that girl has darkness in her soul. Why do you think so many bad things have happened? The only reason she is bringing you along is because she thinks you’re stupid."
The Giant shook his head. "You’re wrong. She loves me. She ain't never done nothing to hurt me."
Phagge laughed. "You poor fool. Where do you think Margie is right now? Do you think she’s waiting for you at the entrance to this cave with tears in her eyes? My goodness no ... she’s not even thinking about you. And why should she when she’s got
him?"
"You mean Archie?"
"Who else?" Phagge shuffled forward. "I’m only telling you this because I like you. Even if you do taste disagreeable."
"But I have to get Margie to The Darkest of All Places. That’s my job. That’s what I have to do."
"And I suppose they told you that you would find your twins there as a reward? Fool," he hissed. "You won’t find your twins in The Darkest of All Places. The Darkest of All Places is where the worst kind of people are to be found. Why would you find your gentle, kind and beautiful twins in such a wretched place?"
The Giant’s eyes grew round. "You’re right. You’re right. They wouldn’t be there. They wouldn’t hurt a fly." He leaned in towards Phagge. "Please, tell me what to do? Tell me."
"I can’t tell you what to do. I can only warn you of the obstacles you face."
"Tell me," cried The Giant, angry and excited all at the same time.
"You have to watch Archie ... my, my, my he’s a rotten egg, that’s for sure. His job is to prevent you from leaving Mons Morsus. He doesn’t want Margie to reach the Darkest of All Places. And he wants to destroy you. Mark my words. He wanted me to devour you." Phagge laughed at this then licked his lips. He couldn’t help salivating at the thought. "He will try and prevent Margie from reaching The Darkest of All Places. But she
must.
And she must go alone."