The Red Gate

“What are we going to do?” Polk asked.

By this point everyone in our group, save for the three missing socks, were all huddled together within the small chamber in front of the two tunnels. Coming to an agreement that the screams echoing throughout the shafts were connected to the missing socks, and with only one obvious path they could have gone, it quickly became apparent that a volunteer was needed to explore the left tunnel.

Before the decision was made publicly, I knew that I was going to be that volunteer. We had come so far and risked so much to save one another that the thought of leaving anyone behind became unbearable. The courage I needed to muster to enter the tunnel came from an unlikely, yet remarkable source. Polk. His speech to the leaky battery about how the miracle of our existence provides us with the incredible capability to become more than what we were created for, ignited something within me.

“I will go,” I said as I stepped in front of the mysterious tunnel, “You have all been down here for too long and have suffered too much. I, however, have only been stuck within the Dark Space for a short period of time. None of you need to prove yourselves any further. You are the most courageous, self-less and formidable band of misfits I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. It has been an honor to fight alongside each of you. But this is my task. Considering it was my recklessness which led Arly and her arachnid army directly to the Copper castle, it is my responsibility to keep everyone safe.”

The chamber was easy to read and it was clear that half of the group wanted to go with me, while the other half was eager to get to the light veil. The loyalty of true friendship was revealed to me at that moment and I knew that it didn’t matter if I made it out of the Dark Space or not. My heart and soul were forever fortified with unconditional love, and the fear of being lost to some dark realm was washed away like the loose dirt when Derrick runs me through the washer machine.

“Polk,” I said softly, “Can you get everyone to the light veil? Can you get them home?”

“I can do it.”

“And we’ll help him,” Exclaimed the buttons.

“As will I,” The injured battery said.

The rest of the socks and misfit objects continued to pledge their assistance to Polk and to one another.

“You can count on me. I will protect them with my life,” Chester said.

“You’re unlike any mouse I have ever met,” I said, “I am proud to call you my friend.”

“How many other mice have you met? Any I know?” Chester asked.

As I thought about the answer to his question, I realized that Chester was actually the only mouse I had ever met. Which made me smile, “Just a few.”

“You can’t go into that tunnel alone,” Harry pleaded, “I’ve never seen a darkness so desolate, yet so alive. I fear you may never return if you enter.”

I contemplated Harry’s ominous prophecy, but a second round of screaming reinforced my need as well as the group’s desire to quickly exit the tunnels.

Murphy’s deep voice joined in on the dire conversation, rumbling in the wake of the reverberations, “He will not be going alone. I am going with him.”

“You mustn’t,” I said, “The others need you more than I do. They are going to especially need your strength to help break through the veil. You’re more valuable to the group, Murphy.”

“My strength comes from all of you. I was stuck in that swamp for a long time. During that time, I was not strong enough to free myself. Then, you all came along. Do not underestimate the strength you all have as friends. As long as you stick together, you will be much stronger than I could ever dream of. Plus, I have been down this tunnel once before. Before I was a prisoner to the mud, I was a prisoner to Arly. She kept me locked away in her underground cells. One day I was offered the chance to escape and I took it. For days I was lost within the maze of tunnels beneath her lair, but then I found this one. Although I didn’t reach the end of the tunnel, I was able to squeeze through a break in the sidewalls, leading me out into the forest. You could also use some back up.”

With no time to argue, I had to accept Murphy’s invitation.

“Now that we’re all in agreement, we should really get moving,” Polk said from the front of the column.

“We’ll see you on the other side,” I said.

Murphy and I waited for the entire group to round the right runnels first bend. Once they were out of sight, and the dim glow from Polk’s torch had vanished, we took our first steps into the pitch black tunnel.

Using a broken sliver of Polk’s torch, we were able to illuminate the shaft just enough to take two steps at a time. Murphy led the way, guiding me around the deep depressions in the rock beneath our feet. The deeper we ventured, the need for our own light strangely became less and less necessary. Whatever we were seeing had not been mentioned during Murphy’s earlier monologue. His sudden halt in movement reinforced my suspicions.

“What is that?” I asked.

The crimson glow slithered up and down the arched walls like a den of black snakes which had all been kissed by fire. The air we breathed became hot and thick. Faint puffs of iron gray steam seeped around the up ahead bend, twirling and curling themselves against the tunnel’s stalactites.

“I have no idea,” Murphy said, “This is farther than I went last time. All I know is that Arly once spoke of a reddish and ferocious beast which she claimed she kept deep within the depths of her dungeons. A beast with an unsatisfiable hunger which grew to crave the bodies of those who no longer offered Arly any use in fulfilling her great plan.”

“Does this beast have a name?” I asked, as if that would ease my worries.

“A name was never mentioned. But she did say that the beast was locked away behind some magical gate with enchanted bars of fire.”

Before I had a chance to voice the jumbled and anxious questions lingering on my tongue, a hot gale of subterranean air coughed from around the tunnel’s final bend. The devilish, crimson glow had thickened into a luscious blood red and the temperature was increasing with every step.

“We’re stronger together,” I began, trying to ease the tension spewing from the big sock, “Whatever is back there, we’ll face it together. Socks are family. If there’s any chance that we can still save them, we have to take it.”

Murphy nodded, “You’re the bravest sock I’ve ever met.”

“I’m only doing what every other sock would do in my position.”

“You’re no sock,” Murphy said firmly, “You’re something more.”

Moving as one unit, we ran around the last bend. The narrow tunnel opened into a smoky cavern pulsing with energy. Stalagmites and stalactites glistened a deep ruby from the fiery radiation. Steam, which stung our fibers when contacted, hissed and seeped from the far corner of the chamber.

Approaching slowly from different angles to avoid the thickest clouds of steam, we circled in on the source of the heat. I approached first and was amazed at the accuracy of Murphy’s story. A set of fourteen molten bars were carved into the floor and a low growl seemed to be the source of the seeping steam.

“Do you hear that breathing?” Murphy asked.

I wanted to lie and say no, but it was impossible to ignore. Plus, there was no sign of the three missing socks.

Suddenly, from behind us, a shifting of grinding stones commanded our attention. Watching in awe, we were both frozen in place as numerous dark shapes sprouted out of the surrounding camouflaged walls.