It’s Not Okay to Clear Dungeons in Air Force Ones Chapter 2

A Choose Your Own Adventure Story

Article by P. Rae Leon

Chapter 2

Results of Previous Question: Should Lulu continue into the tunnel or turn around and try to escape? Yes: Continue

Lulu has leveled up…

+5 Bravery

+2 Intelligence

The thing I miss most about softball is the isolation. Yes, I know it’s a team sport. My girls always cheered for me from the dugout. The opposing team sucked their teeth and quaked in their pinstripes. The crowd booed or cheered depending on their allegiance. But when I stepped in that chalked box, dug my cleats in the earth, and gripped the handle of my bat, no one or thing existed. I was alone. And while it only took a split second for the ball to leave the pitcher’s hand till the time I crushed it, it’s in those brief moments I could finally breathe. In those insignificant slices of time, I felt happiness. I felt alive.

The hairs of my arms are standing. I can feel the bumps on my skin. I haven’t experienced this sensation in years. I’m differently solo down here in this dank sinkhole. Perhaps against my better judgment, I can’t stop myself. The endorphins course in my veins. It’s a high I’m not ready to come down from. 

The ground gives a little beneath me. My soles glide on tiny pebbles and loose dirt like slick oil. I slide down the slight decline like a skateboarder with no board. I dig my sneakers into the ground until I stop.

A red cloud of dirt floats in the air. It sticks to the sweat of my face and clings to the moisture of my lips.

Carolina clay has a specific smell and taste. It’s full of iron. I learned to love it, a little reward for diving head first across home plate. However, this time I stay standing, and my reward is that stupid goblin I’ve been chasing. He lies face planted in the earthen ground. I know it’s the same one I encountered earlier by the gouged side of his head courtesy of my found pipe. Finally, I caught the little bastard.

I take my time, and pause for a moment, relishing in the feeling.

The red dirt covers my black on black Air Force One hightops. I tap the bottom of my soles with the long pipe, clearing mud from their treads.

This place is different from the earlier tunnel. Cool air drifts down from above like central AC. Beams of light shine down from tunnels in the ceiling. It reminds me of the crowd at a concert with their phone lights on or maybe stars on a clear night. There must be a hundred holes leading back up to the surface. Surely the sun has set by now, the lumination must come from street lights. Water drips from the openings, splattering on the sand all around me. The patter becomes soothing white noise. I also hear an inconsistent roar coming from up there too. Is that traffic?

I wouldn’t describe it as beautiful. Any way you look at it, I’m still in a tunnel dug by mutant vermin. I stomp my way up to the mutilated goblin’s side, dragging the head of my pipe against the ground so I know it hears me coming.

I see its little rib cage expanding as it breathes. Its spine is knotty and bulging. Its skin is a pale green, almost transparent, and looks wet and slimy to the touch. Its ears are long and pointy. They flinch and move as I do, following me. His beady eye locks onto mine. Its broad nostrils flare. Its feet and hands have long nails and weblike skin for digging. It tried to cleave off my face with those talons. “Not so scary now, are you?”

I strike. My grandmother had told me, when killing a snake, to strike just behind the head. If you break its spine, it can’t move, I think. Whatever the reason, I deliver the final blow to the nape of its neck. The cretin closes its eyes, not so much as a shrill or shriek. I almost feel sorry for the little fellow, dying with such bravery, but then I remember it did try to claw my face off.

I guess it was ready. Maybe it liked this place. Maybe it liked how the holes sparkled or the fresh air. One would think more goblins would be here, with the fresh air, water, and light seeping through the many small burrows.

“That sneaky little shit.”

It hits me, what his intentions really were.

I look around. The cavern walls are cloaked in shadows. The light from above can’t reach its recesses. I try to listen for any other beast’s breathings, or hissing. All I hear is the roar of cars passing by above.

I dig the head of the pipe under the dead goblins body, and like a hockey slap shot, I pitch the corpse into the darkness.

Hissing comes from the blackness, loud and encircling. The clatter of numerous nails on rock and soil comes from all directions. 

Even above my head, half of the lights of the small tunnels begin to shift. They were not holes, but eyes all along. That thing led me to an ambush.

Five goblins charge me from the shadows.

I jump back. My ones struggle to grip the muddy earth, I slide and slip, but keep my balance. 

“Take this!” I shout.

My pipe cracks the goblins’ little skulls. More creep out the corners. They shriek and holler. It’s deafening, the screeches ricochet off the cavern walls.

Goblins jump out at me from the right. More scurry from the shadows of my left.

I swing my pipe taking out the few that get within my range. I feel something hit me on the top of my head. Its light, but warm. Its tiny finger scratch at my scalp as it crawls.

“Ah heeeeeell no!” I shout, tossing my pipe at the others and turning to run. I peel the baby goblin off my ponytail and sling it towards the walls.

Chin up, arms pumping by my side, I sprint back through the tunnel, running faster than I ever have before.

The tunnel seems twice as far as the journey down. Roots stretch out of the ground trying to trip me. I stretch my stride, avoiding them. Boulders leap out in my path to block me. I spin and whirl around them.

I arrive at where the ground had originally caved it. This is where I had fallen in.

I use my hands and feet to scurry back up the steep slope. Rocks fall and slide as I step on them. The dirt in my hand crumples as I try to pull myself up. I might as well be running up the wrong way of an escalator. I’m not getting anywhere.

More than a handful of the largest goblins still give chase. Their teeth and claws glistening in the light of the sidewalk above as they try to maneuver up the rocks to me. They hiss, holler, and screech

I pick up the largest slab of concrete I can reach, screaming to muster my strength, and lob it at the creatures, crushing two of them. 

“Get the hell away from me!”

I pick up another slab and pitch it, flattening another one.

“Did you hear that?” I male asks from far off in the distance.

“Help me! I’m down here.” I scream picking up another boulder, slamming it down on the skull of a goblin. “Please, help me.”

The remaining goblins retreat back to the darkness of the tunnel. I can still hear their claws scratching against the rocky soil and see the reflections of the eyes in the blackness.

A young man peeks down into the hole at me. “There’s a girl down here.” He hops down into the opening and is soon holding my trembling body in his arms.

Everything happens so fast. I’m shaking and crying. This stranger, who is now in the hole with me, tries to hold and console me, but I’m freaking out.

Another man appears outside the hole. “Grab my hand. I’ll pull you out.”

Before I know it, the first guy has me lifted on his shoulders. I reach up to the second savior, grasping his palms. My shoulders feel like they’re gonna dislocate, but the guy lifts me out the hole.

More creatures screech from the depths. I can’t see them, but estimate at least three. 

Tears are pouring down my face at this point.

Somehow, the other guy is able to get himself up high enough for the second man to pull out the hole as well.

The men try to calm me down. “Are you okay?” “Are you hurt?” 

I am far beyond comforting. Tears pour from me like a raging river. I can’t breathe. 

I get a look at the first guy in the light of the surface as he removes his coat, and places it around my shoulders. The lines of his waves glisten under the streetlights. Kind bright eyes, big white teeth, dark skin, and muscles on top of muscles, greet me with grave concern.

“What happened? How did you end up down there?”

I can’t catch my wind. Hiccups steal my voice. I cling to him. My claws dig into his stoney biceps. My frazzled wild hair rests against his chest.

“Am I crazy or was something else down there?” he asks.

I look at the stranger, stunned, unsure of what to say.

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