Level Zero by Dan McDowell (debian ebook reader .txt) 📗

He observed the spring welling from beneath, its gush recirculating through in the wash just above. He looked closer at the rocks and objects that lined the wall behind the waterfall, surmising that some of them were skulls from past tragedy. A glimmering light shined through the ceiling. The hole was not larger than the size of a quarter, but the suppressed daylight shining through offered him an unspeakable relief. He took a few moments to collect his thoughts as he studied his changing features in the reflecting pool. He struggled to make out the details in his face, but noted less color in his skin and life in his eyes.

The effects of the spring took hold.

The floor bottomed out under Todd as he plummeted down into a dark hole. Lorrie fell to his right as she yelled, “You are going to pay for this, Todd. You better make your wrongs right and help these people!”

“Lorrie, I… I don’t know what to say.”

He continued to fall faster and faster down into the abyss, as a barrage of bloody hands reaching to the sky surrounded, and Lorrie disappeared.

Voices chanted in unison, leaving him struggling to identify what they said. Before he could, they faded away.

Creeper Joe rocketed from beneath the black as his glowing eyes hit Todd with a momentary blindness as he returned from the peculiar experience. As his sight returned, he found himself staring at his reflection in the pool.

What’s happening?

“Handsome, isn’t he? You know… I should just start calling you… Narcissus,” Creeper Joe called out.

I’ve got to get back in the spring. That was remarkable.

He immersed himself. The spring wrapped itself around his body in a method unfamiliar to that of water.

Maybe I shouldn’t have.

In a matter of moments, the cuts on his legs healed, and he watched them vanish away.

I guess it is some kind of Fountain of Youth…? How fascinating.

After several minutes of soaking, Todd climbed out of the spring, sloughing off the excess liquid from his body. He felt refreshed as it dripped off and moved with an altered chemistry, density, and viscosity to that of water. Its lingering trail rolled across the pores of his skin.

“I feel like a brand new man. It would sure be nice if I could dry off.”

Above the waterfall, a large vent opened and hot air spewed. Sunlight shined through momentarily.

Creeper Joe’s voice came from around a corner just out of Todd’s line of sight, “Like this? Then you could be a… Hottie Toddie, couldn’t you? Heh-heh!”

The entire area became a wind tunnel, drying Todd off just as requested. As his body lifted from the ground, the air from the dryer dissipated.

Creeper Joe walked toward Todd with an uncommon grin. “Yeah. I picked it up from one of those drive-through car washes going out of business and powered it up about ten times stronger. What do you think, Hottie Toddie?”

Todd shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I guess I’ll be going now.”

“Where are you headed this time? Have you already learned your way around here that fast? This place can be a real pain in the arse ‘til you figure it out. Heh-heh. Bye-bye now!”

Don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Apathy is his worst enemy. I’m not ready for another close brush with death. Gauging from the shine of the sun, this was the south end.

He saw a woman, hunched over, looking short on breath. Moving closer toward her, he realized they were previously introduced.

Katrina, the woman from the Bridgewater Restaurant? What’s going on?

“What are you doing in here? Are you okay?” he asked. He came toward her and gave her a hug. “Your ex throw you in here or what?”

“No, it was nothing like that.”

“It’s great to see you again,” he said. “I’m sorry… given the circumstances. I wondered why I hadn’t seen you at Bridgewater in a while.”

“I’ve been here just long enough not to pay any mind to life up top anymore,” she said.

“Katrina… Katrina… I… I…”

No more of this. I can’t handle any more phantom memories. Through the eyes of Wasserman I go.

Kicking the lingering ash aside, he stood next to his father, William, as he laid the cornerstone to the wellhouse, sketching out an uncommon interpretation of the Warnings Against Folly as Cardinal Rules for the property.

William laid a beautiful, custom-made pocket watch on top of the stone. “Son, these rules will be our covenant to protect this beautiful place. Don’t you ever forget.” Raising the worn riveting hammer in the air, he dropped it toward the timepiece. The image played out in slow motion in his memory — the force of the hammer striking the top of the watch face, the scattering of its glass in every direction, his father’s portable clock coming to an unexpected halt, and the unforgettable sight of the man grabbing at his chest and collapsing six feet to the ground below. He breathed his last, and yet, somehow, it still felt right. They looked at one another in a moment of unconditional love. Then, there was the look of the spirit leaving the body, eyes hollowed out and lifeless, as William’s life came to an abrupt halt. He looked into the spring as the elevating drip filled the well.

.     .     .     .     .

“Todd, Todd, you there? I’m no stranger to the runaway mind… or soul… or whatever you want to call it,” Katrina said. “You want to talk about it? I see it in your eyes… We were all guests of the hotel, and a part of us is still here waiting for a meaningful end.”

“And you know this how?”

“Forgive the approach here,” she said, “but it’s just a matter of summoning…”

Her eyes glossed over, reflecting the gaze of another.

“Don, it’s Sylvia. Don’t you remember? Come on now.”

“It’s coming to me in bits and pieces,” Todd replied as Don manifested himself. “My fury with Joe only burns hotter with time. I gave him a chance… Sylvia… and he