Operation: Pacifica, Spirals
by CyberPyro, (aka DeadLock the Feral (NYAR!), deadlock@one.net)



 "You should eat something."  CP proffered one of his ration bars to
  Chris.  "It'll help."  The other man took it, smiling weakly as he struggled
  to tear open the plastic wrapping.


 "I'm afraid I'm not going to be any help to you."  Butler nibbled
  on the bar.  He frowned as black thoughts crossed his mind and stared at a
  wall.


 "What?"


 "Do you know what they were doing to me, what they've done to
  hundreds of captured Jihaddi?"


 "Go on..." CP sat down beside Chris and put an arm around his
  shoulders.


 "They were warping me into a monster!" the young man drew a heavy,
  tattered breath before continuing.  "The Lyrans called their creations
  'Thanatins,' soul-dead shells made to destroy Jihaddi, to defile their
  existence, to kill in the name of their creators.  They were trying to make
  ... trying to make me one."


 "C'mere." CP pulled Chris close to him again, holding him tight as
  the young man began to shed bitter tears.  'I have to stay clear-headed,' CP
  thought, 'this is Lyran territory, where anything can and will be used
  against me.  He's not going to be of any use in a fight, and he can't be
  left alone.  These Lyran bastards are gonna die at my Claws[tm], begging for
  any death but the ones I carve into their hides.


 'We've gotta move.  Can't stay here forever or those sorcerers will
  come down on us hard.  How in Grimace's name am I going to get out of this
  alive, even without him?  *sigh*'


 "We have to go.  I'll help you walk.  We need to move or someone
  will find us."



...



[time: 7 hours later]
[place: level 4, fortress proper]


 "I need to rest," yawned Chris over CP's shoulder.  He'd lost the
  strength to walk shortly after they set out and had been carried.


 "A little more, then we'll find a place."  They were being
  manipulated, guided through this fortress intentionally.  But by what?  It
  was obvious someone was pulling strings, tossing illusions, troops, and
  spells around to move them in some direction.  To what end?


 If CP had the answers, he'd feel much better.  As is, he didn't
  have any, and that made him all the angrier.  'Control your anger, or you
  will regret it,' he thought to himself.


 "One more level and we'll call it a rest.  OK?"  Chris nodded
  wearily, exhausted.



...




 The two found a large, spiral staircase leading upwards soon after.
  To CP's suspicion, nothing traveled up and down this broad path.  Torches
  burned at regular intervals both along the outer wall and inner column,
  providing a clearly lit path.


 They ascended the stairs, quickly finding that it didn't go to the
  next level, but somewhere above it.  An eerie silence pervaded the spiral,
  making every step, sizzle of a torch, or bouncing echo sound monumentous.


 CP's nerves grew taut, his willingness to continue fading with
  every step.  The gut-feeling of walking into a lethal trap grew from a
  shadowy notion at the back of his mind to a raging storm, too loud and
  menacing to be ignored.


 "What is it?" asked Chris.


 "We're in trouble."


 "What do you mean?"


 "Let's get off this staircase."  CP stepped down two stairs, then
  stopped.  A distant, nearly inaudible crack echoed up the spiral.  Butler
  looked puzzled at his friend's sudden stillness but didn't say anything.


 The rumble echoed up the stairs, loud enough for human ears.  CP's
  eyes opened wide as he understood.


 "What is it?!"  CP bounded up the stairs three and four at a time,
  his motions jostling his friend roughly.  He didn't answer, but kept his
  insane pace up the stairs.


 Chris looked back and gasped.  The stairs behind them were
  crumbling and falling!  The central pillar of the spiral broke off at
  regular intervals, plummeting into the dark, billowing cloud of dust beneath
  them.


 Fifty stairs above them, the landing loomed like a savior.  The
  rate of the stairs' collapse accelerated as CP approached the top, trying to
  catch and drag them down into the murky depths below.


 "Hurry!" Chris began to panic, fearing a long fall onto jagged
  rocks below.  CP's left foot lifted from a stair as it cracked and fell
  away.  The Jihaddi lunged, jumping the last six stairs.


 They landed hard, CP's body absorbing the brunt of it.  Stone dust
  and ashes rained upon them as they moved to a sitting position.  Darkness
  shrouded them, obscuring everything.


 "Now what?" asked Chris.  As if in response, a pair of torches
  spluttered to life above them.  A few yards away, another lighted, then
  another to illuminate a corridor as though an invisible, fiery finger were
  drawing the way for them.


 "That," replied CP, motioning to the empty path in front of them.


...



[time: about 10 minutes later]


 The corridor came to an abrupt end at a small foyer attached to a
  straight staircase leading up.  CP set Butler down against the wall,
  unholstered one of his pistols, and handed it to him.


 "I'm going ahead for a bit.  Use it if you have to."  The
  Lieutenant nodded gravely and tried to relax while his friend walked away.
  If only they could get out of this miserable fortress, he'd be much happier.



- CP
Copyright, Pyrokinetic Productions, Inc. (1997)