2021

Extreme Writing 2021



The Flight (Almost) The floor was a mad bee; sending wild vibrations up Evelyn’s feet as it buzzed. As she glanced out the window, she saw the rotors on the turbines whirl around so fast they looked like one blurry disk of air. They hadn’t started flying yet but Evelyn waited in anticipation for the familiar zooming sensation that would eventually evolve into a stomach-churning rise. The bee struggled to maintain stamina and the buzz slowly faded. Outside, the rotors spluttered and slowed. Soon Evelyn could distinguish the separate blades from one another. She looked to the other side, her face creasing in worry, and saw that the other turbine had started to decelerate as well. The flight attendant calmly removed the telephone from the wall and spoke to whoever was on the other end. Then she pressed something where the phone’s cord was attached and her voice boomed through the speaker. Please evacuate aircraft, leave all hand luggage behind and head for the nearest exit.” Leaving her bag under the seat, Evelyn made her way with the crowd to the front exit where the flight attendant had pushed the door open. She frowned as she noticed some of the other passengers had taken their carry-on bags with them. Leave them behind! Is that so hard? she thought, remembering the flight attendant’s message. She thumped down the stairs into the blazing sunlight and hurried with the other passengers along the blue marked path back towards the building. BANG! Heart pounding from the sudden noise, Evelyn turned to see a cloud of black smoke rising from the turbine closest to her. It looked like everyone had departed safely so she kept walking, slightly faster this time. Once inside the airport, Evelyn scanned the interior of the building for her grandparents, but they must have returned home already. They were nowhere to be seen.

Jamaica The fierce wind tugged at the hooded figures with his frosty fingers. The group clutched their walking sticks, desperately trying to keep away from the deep crevices in the ice, but although Jamaica still fought to keep her footing, she wasn’t worried; in all her journeys through Antarctica, she had never seen a single person fall down one of those fissures. A strong gust whipped Jamaica's hood from her head. She tucked one stick under her shoulder to free her hand, then reached up to tug it back in place. It was caught on something and she couldn’t pull it free. She felt the pressure between her stick and the ground losen. Gravity clawed at her from behind. Her insides began a complicated dance routine. The little friction on the ice abandoned her to the wind. Her body was tossed away. Both sticks went flying. A gaping crevice jumped towards her. She flailed around, trying to grab something. The world leaped upwards. Jamaica didn’t have time to think before the water gulped her into its embrace. She had always described Antarctica as freezing, but this was incomparable. Jamaica screamed from the sudden drop in temperature, letting the contents of her lungs drift to the surface of the lake she was submerged in. Barely realising her mistake, she pulled herself through the water towards the tiny sliver of light she could see through the gloom. Her thick clothes wouldn’t let her, they anchored her down, trying to assure her that she didn’t need to survive. She didn’t listen to them, she kept pushing. Her hand grabbed at thin air above her. Her head breached the surface seconds later, dripping and gulping oxygen. Jamaica’s head cleared of panic slightly. She looked up at the crevice she had fallen through, there were no useful handholds, she could never climb back up there. There was nothing else in the cave that could save her. Her jacket tugged her under the surface before she could think of what else to do. The full cold of the water attacked her head again. She managed to keep her lips shut, holding the precious oxygen inside her lungs. She caught sight of a gap in the ice, right where the lake disappeared into a mysterious gloom. If it just led to a dead end, Jamaica wouldn’t have time to return to the cave to breathe. If it led to an easier way out, she still might drown. Running low on air, she knew she didn’t have much time to decide. Jamaica swam down.

With the cold trying to kill her with every move, Jamaica slipped through the gap and pushed herself into the curving tunnel beyond. Claustrophobia flooded her mind. She was just small enough to fit in the tight space. The path dipped and curved randomly and seemed to stretch for kilometers. Her lungs burned and her body shivered. Finally, the tunnel opened up into a cave not unlike the one she had fallen into. Without hesitation, Jamaica pushed herself in the direction she thought was up. She was faced with a block of ice. She turned, swam and found herself in the same position on the other side. Was there a surface here? She swam around in circles, coming face to face with the tunnel opening several times, until at last, her head met air. Punishingly cold air, but air. Jamaica gulped in mountains of flavoursome oxygen before her clothes dragged her under again. She hadn’t wanted to leave her jacket behind before in case she made it out alive and could use it for warmth once it dried out, but now, too exhausted and afraid to think ahead, she tugged frantically at the zip. As she yanked the soaking material off her shoulders, her eyes fell on the tunnel opening in the ice. Drifting upwards and letting the jacket drop, she looked around the lake and noticed another hole further down, and another in the ice opposite the first hole, and many more scattered around the lake. As her dripping self breached the surface once more, she had a horrible thought. Something put these tunnels here. There was a landing of ice above the waterline that Jamaica slowly slipped over to, but her attention was on the whole chamber. The ceiling was dotted with holes too, how many caverns were there in the one network? On the wall by the landing there were jagged dents and slabs leading up to a distant sunlit slit. But Jamaica was more concerned than relieved. A black shape had begun to push it’s way out from one of the tunnels in the ceiling. A pale eye fluttered and rolled to stare down at her. Jamaica lifted herself onto the landing slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the creature. It just watched her, oozing further and further from the opening. It had the impression of a massive eel, but it had no finns, only a dark, slimy coat of skin with what looked like clear veins on the outside of its body, weaved in a harshly beautiful pattern. It’s massive figure was still squeezing it’s way out of the tunnel, and it had curved it’s neck to stare at Jamaica. It was the most extraordinary thing she had ever seen, but at the same time, she had never felt so terrified in her life. Moving as slowly as possible and watching the animal, she crawled over to the wall and grabbed at the handholds, rising to her feet and beginning the climb. As soon as her second foot left the ground, the thing shot out at her. Her adrenaline rushed. She switched her attention to the gap far above her. She hoisted herself from jagged dent to jagged dent with her shivering hands. A screech pierced the air. She flinched, turned. The thing’s veins were now pulsing a fluorescent white. It still hung from the tunnel. It’s mouth was open. It screamed at her, torturing her ears. She kept climbing. There was a flash of black and white. Jamaica was knocked back down, but she rolled and leapt to her feet within seconds of hitting the icy landing. It’s head dived at her again, shoving her into the water. It chased after her, biting onto her leg and dragging her down. Jamaica had had enough of this lake. She swung her free foot and struck her attacker in the jaw. It whined and loosened its grip enough for her to slip away. She was lighter without her jacket but her journey upwards was still slow. Ripples blinked on the surface, several meters above her head. The end of the creature's tail had finally splashed down. Jamaica’s strength gave out. She couldn’t move any further. The creature’s coiling body circled her. This was it.

The bridge A lightning bolt of shock jolted through my blood as a shimmering wave of bubbling cold water washed around my calves; the unexpectedness left me off balance and I collapsed to my knees. Leaving the denim in a much darker shade of blue, the fizzing liquid soaked through my jeans. The river ascended, sweeping over my head and sucking the oxygen from my mouth. I tumbled upwards for a split second before the water drained from the walkway leaving me staring at the ceiling, the damp stone pressing to the back of my neck. I lifted a hand to swipe my dripping hair out of my face and sat up, coughing up a burst of water. Winter stepped in front of me and held out a hand. I was infuriated to see that the flood had barely reached up to their waist but I took it anyway. “That was just the bridge river,” they explained, yanking me to my feet, “it happens every few minutes.” “And you have a use for repetitively flooding a bridge?” I asked, “Few things in this place happen for a reason,” Winter replied, shrugging, “wait until you see the Ring, plenty of unneeded phenomena there.” “Like what?” I peered over the wall bordering the walkway; through the shadows, I could just make out a flash of white down where the Ring was supposed to be. “Unneeded phenomena.” Winter repeated, a slight annoyance skimming their words. I turned my head so Winter couldn’t see my cheeks flush from the scolding. Wait to see it all in the flesh, they had said at the start of the tour. Dodging the topic, I strode down the bridge to the corridor we were headed to. Another sweep of water swiftly rose from the ground, I stumbled briefly but caught my footing, this time I noticed something in the river; flashes of colour. Looking closer, I glimpsed a flowing field of radiant flowers. A reflection. I gazed at the ceiling but there was nothing there, just a silvery sheet of blank metal. Odd, I must have imagined it. The river reached up to my ribcage before swishing down into nothing. I continued towards the corridor. Behind me, Winter laughed, “We’re not going that way.” I frowned, turned. The other end of the bridge led to the way we had come, surely we hadn’t come here just to get rinsed. Winter beckoned me back to the middle of the bridge. They drifted over to the wall lining the side and gazed down the thousand floors to the ground level where the Ring was. “We’re done on this floor, it’s time to move down.” They planted their hands on the hard stone. “Where’s the staircase?” I joined them by the wall and glanced down into the void. Winter looked up long enough to smirk. Then they leaped.

The Girl In The Water Stirring in the gentle breeze, the puddle shimmered, it’s ripples blurring the reflection of the fence. I gazed into the depths of the freshly rained water; my own face stared back, bordered by the dirt and mold that had gathered at the edges of the window frame. Leaves rustled in the winter breeze as another breath swept through the air. Sun shone through the old murky glass, casting hazy boxes of gold onto the carpet. As I stepped into the light, the menacing glare outside illuminated my skin in a throb of heat. The milky paint coating the frame was neatly spread but starting to peel at the edges. I reached out and scraped the frame with the back of my nails, a buzz of friction vibrating through my hand. My fingers spread and closed against the frame like a monster flexing its claws. I stared down at my reflection in the shallow water but this time a different face stared back. It still had my exact appearance, but every crease of its face screamed the truth. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt deep inside me that something was different. I stretched my hand out and, naturally, my reflection followed suit, only rather than mirroring me, she held out the opposite arm as if she meant to shake my hand. I reached into the puddle of rain, the fresh liquid sending a pleasant shiver crawling across my skin. I grasped the reflection’s hand, our fingers locking around each other’s wrists through the icy pool. With all my strength, I hoisted her out of the cold and into my life. I stumbled backwards, the dripping girl flopping down on top of me as we thumped to the grass. She looked up from where she lay on top of me, our eyes locking. Although she had been dry in the reflection, rain water dribbled from her dark strands, cascading down my cheeks as I gazed into her eyes. And for the first time I could ever remember, the world finally felt right.

Coffin I jolted awake, darkness flooding my vision. Stiff wooden boards pressed uncomfortably into my spine, making my back throb unbearably. I sat up, but had barely moved before something smacked into my face, sending a warm trickle of something oozing down my cheek. The back of my head thumped against the floor, sending spots dancing through the blackness in front of me. A burning agony sunk through my skull and into my brain. As the throbbing behind my eyes pounded in time with my beating heart, I lifted my arms and flailed around above my head. My hands met something solid only centimeters in front of my face. I pressed my palms out to the sides and found myself in a wooden box barely large enough for me to move my limbs. A coffin. Did someone mistake me for a corpse? Had I been buried alive? The panic spread throughout my chest and stomach like wildfire. I was going to suffocate here. In the darkness. By myself. My insides churned as the dusty atmosphere seeped its first fingers of death into my lungs.

The Web Of Cords A network of sturdy, centimeter thick cords webbed its way out into the world of infinity in all directions. My sweaty palms burned as I gained hold of yet another of the many black strings spiraling through the murkiness. Exhaustion buzzed its way through my bones as I paused for a breath. I glanced at my wristwatch, watching the precious seconds tick by with every moment I wasted. Reaching out again, my fingers closed around another cord, slanted to the point where it was almost vertical, I would have to take extra care with this one. Releasing my grip on the previous rope, I let my weight swing me through the air until both hands clung to the near-vertical cord, hooking my legs over an adjacent strand to stop myself from slipping. Stretching out to the next string, a safer one this time, I felt my grip on the slanted cord loosen and my palms slipped down the rope, screaming against the friction of the line. My body was flipped upside down, my knees anchoring me on the adjacent strand. I jolted at the abrupt halt of my descent. In the shock of it all, I kicked out, losing my hold above me and tumbling through the darkness. Something hard collided with my stomach, making me lurch. More obstacles smacked at me from all directions, sending me spinning mid air. I only had just enough oxygen in my brain to realise that I was being hit by the lower strands as I plummeted. Despite my vision being blocked by blood and panic, a nearby cord caught my attention through the gloom. I reached for it as I passed, my fingers closing over the rough material. Just as I began to regain my grip, the cord brushed through the narrowing gap between my thumb and forefinger and sailed away above me as I plunged into darkness.