Not Everything Brainless is Dead (16 page)

Chapter 17: Something Wicked This Way Bounces

At first glance, the entrance to the fourteenth century castle felt very genuine, but upon closer inspection, they could tell something was amiss. A gaping chasm split this first room in half, and the only way across was the steel bridge that spanned its length. Along its railings, small dolphins swam through the air, playfully shooting water from their blowholes. The dolphin overlords surely placed this fantastic illusion to lure innocent sailors to their doom. Even from this distance, the sirens had a hypnotizing effect.

To exemplify the dolphin motif further, tapestries that hung from the walls depicted the animals doing everything from jousting, to feasting, to harlotry, all with distinctly peculiar dolphin flair. Aside from the wall hangings, this half of the room seemed devoid of anything helpful. A few artificial torches lit through electricity gave the cavernous room illumination. The dolphin overlords had little use for open flames. They
were
a fire hazard, after all. Across from the dolphin infused bridge, a vast hallway awaited them, and it was the only way out of this equally vast entryway. Sea blue curtains draped the darkened hallway’s frame, and scrunched up dolphins hid within the folds.

With the room digested, attention turned towards the steel bridge. After the encounter with the killer dolphin, the heroes approached it with utmost caution. Who knew what ridiculous dolphin dangers would spring out of the nothingness to crush their skulls? This hesitation had been rightly placed, for as soon as they stepped forward, a bounce resonated from down the hallway. Panic swept the heroes as they raced away from the bridge, hoping to send this unknown danger back from where it came.

They were sure that a bouncing dolphin would soon emerge from the hallway to barrage them with heat-seeking missiles. Another bounce and the frightened heroes stumbled backwards. Self-preservation kicked in, and Captain went straight for the door, but his feet were a little slow to keep up, and he tripped and slammed against it. The hero regained some semblance of composure, fought back his frazzled nerves, and wrapped his fingers around the handle only to discover that it refused to open.

“The door’s locked!” Captain Rescue yelled. His exasperated cries echoed out as he pounded helplessly against the wood, boring gashes with his fingernails as he tried to claw his way out.

Bounce after bounce resonated through the vast entryway, and the more it repeated the less their frazzled nerves could take. One, however, remained forever stoic: Stubbs. When anything, living or dead, had seen and done the things Stubbs had in his short lifetime of a few hours, they knew not fear. In fact, they knew little at all. This ignorance of the world and its many dangers was the leading factor in Stubbs’s courage. He just did not know any better, and it was doubtful he would let a few errant bounces get to him anyway. Regardless, as everyone around him cracked, Stubbs started to feel rather left out. To fit in, he slapped his cheeks and let out the most unearthly scream imaginable, distorting space and time all around him. Once finished, Stubbs chased after his tongue, which had departed his mouth along with the scream.

One would think that Stubbs’s shriek would scare off even the meanest of bouncing dolphins, but the noise grew ever closer, and the repetition further degraded on their mental states. That was, if their mental states could degrade any further without their brains becoming inoperable. As the source bounced out of the hallway, they realized their mental states were as degraded as can be. He was a minotaur; a minotaur bouncing on a pogo stick a few sizes too small. Even so, he handled that stick like a pro.

Someone had crafted the bouncing vehicle into a magnificent hot pink work of art. Lights on both sides moved up and down hypnotically, and a hoofed tip matched the hoofed rider. Then there were the dolphin handlebars, which were there only to show whom the beast served. Even more magnificent than the pogo stick was the minotaur riding it. The pink loincloth he wore indicated that whatever it concealed was of the purest evil. Rippling muscles covered the beast’s body; he used a pogo stick only because his muscles made it difficult to walk. A finely braided beard billowed from its jutting chin, and the golden ring in his nose bounced up and down with each hop.

“You shall not pass!” the beast’s gruff voice bellowed as it positioned itself in the center of the bridge.

“Hold on a sec,” Captain Rescue said to the minotaur as he as the other heroes formed a tight circle.

“Why are we in a huddle?” Dr. Malevolent whispered.

“I dunno, it’s not every day you see a minotaur, may as well cherish it.” As everyone around Captain Rescue gave the hero weary looks, he turned from the huddle and asked the minotaur, “Why can’t we pass?”

The beast growled. “This is private property! You are trespassing!”

“Well, you
are
trying to bring civilization to its knees, so I think we have permission,” Charlie said to the bouncing beast.

“You shall not pass!” he repeated.

Captain Rescue left the huddle and approached the beast. “So, why the pogo stick?”

“I will go down in history as the pogo sticking minotaur. It will be my trademark.” At his words, Dr. Malevolent caressed her rod in its holster while Freight squeezed Courtney.

Captain Rescue shrugged and pulled a vial from his utility belt. He held it into the air and yelled, “I really don’t want to have to use this, but if you don’t get off the bridge, I’ll be forced to!”

The minotaur bounced silently for a few seconds, thinking the proposal over and then answered, “No.”

Captain Rescue shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

As he flung the vial into the air, it dramatically tumbled end over end until shattering against the bridge and spreading oil everywhere. The minotaur tried its best to avoid the slick, but regardless of its pogo prowess, he found himself unable to keep away from the slippery sludge. The moment the pogo stick’s tip touched the oil slick, the minotaur began to lose his balance, dangerously throwing himself back and forth across the bridge. The beast tried to maintain control, but quickly lost the battle and simply hopped over the edge into the gaping chasm. Captain Rescue turned to everyone else and flexed proudly.

“Never thought I’d say it, but good job,” Dr. Malevolent said and patted him on the back. This approval caused him to smile brightly.

Celebrations of defeating the minotaur were cut short as a bounce echoed from the depths of the chasm. Their hearts skipped a beat. Then more bouncing, one after another, over and over. As they peered down, they could see the horned head of the minotaur traveling in and out of the darkness, getting closer each time. Apparently, the chasm was not deep as expected, but it was deep enough. After a series of bounces that seemed to last a lifetime, their anxiety lifted as the beast’s ascension concluded. He was stuck down there. 

“Don’t think this is over!” a gruff voice yelled from the chasm.

Dr. Malevolent kneeled down and waved to the beast as he bounced in and out of view. Her comrades and she then faced their next insurmountable task: the oil coated bridge. Captain Rescue begged to slide across for the sake of fun. After much trial and error, they convinced him otherwise. Thus, in a single file line, they grabbed hold of the railing and began inching their way across. Charlie, in particular, could not help but to worry that the oil would permanently affix itself to his plush fur sabatons, but considering the amount of gunk already coating them, from dried blood to mud to other substances still unknown to man, the oil would fit in nicely. On both sides of the bridge, the holographic dolphins mocked their progression by pretending to slip and bump their noggins.

As the last person crossed the bridge, the minotaur yelled, “I’ll be here when you get back!”

While the minotaur’s intimidating first impressions implied that his only goal in life was to protect the castle he called home, this was simply incorrect. The minotaur was actually a lonely creature that wished nothing more than to make friends with the castle’s newcomers, sit with them by the fire, and reminisce over times of yore. However, after being cooped up inside a medieval castle his entire life, the minotaur’s social skills were left somewhat wanting. The poor beast just did not know how to interact with people, and as such, as the heroes made their way across the bridge, tears welled in his eyes.

At precisely the same moment they stepped from the bridge to the cold stone tiles of the castle, a faint click echoed from somewhere nearby. Freight, who could smell trouble from a mile away, threw his arms to his sides, stopping the others. They looked at him with both curiosity and frustration that he had decided to make a spectacle of himself once again. Freight stuck his nose into the air and sniffed, trying to catch a whiff of the misfortune headed in their direction. The others did the same, but all they could smell was the musky stench of a fourteenth century castle.

Somewhere down the darkened hallway, the heroes could hear a gust of wind rushing in their direction. As an enormous tree trunk emerged from the darkness, everyone instinctively dropped to their knees and hugged the ground. Everyone but Captain Rescue. His instincts had taken the week off due to boredom. He just stood there with a dumbfounded look on his face as the log sailed towards him. For a brief moment, Dr. Malevolent considered allowing him to meet his fate, but in a fraction of a second, she decided against it—perhaps she wasn’t so malevolent after all. Her hand shot up and wrapped itself around the elastic of his underwear. She then yanked him to the ground, almost removing his pants all together. Captain Rescue smiled innocently as he watched the log whoosh past him, hoping he could go on this ride again soon. Dr. Malevolent decided that if she could not kill the man, she could at least punch him in the groin. As he cringed in pain, the weight of letting him survive eased.

The enormous trunk swung back and forth over the heroes’ heads until it finally came to a stop. They got to their feet half expecting something else to fly out from the depths of the castle to decapitate them. No such surprises awaited—for now. To make extra sure, they walked around systematically stepping on the stone tiles beneath their feet to trigger any additional traps. Continuing with their investigation, they checked the area just surrounding the hallway for any indiscriminate holes that could fire indiscriminate arrows through their indiscriminate necks. No such neck high holes appeared anywhere nearby, or holes at any height for that matter. Eventually, they concluded that no more pressure plates remained to catch them off guard, and for the moment, they were safe.

Therefore, without further ado, they stepped into the hallway. Almost immediately, a click emanated from underneath the stone, followed by the distinct sound of grinding metal. Then, from down the hallway, a rumbling like rolling rapids caught their ears. They looked nervously at each other and then backed out of the hallway together. As the rumbling grew closer, a thick sea of pink flooded into view. After a few more seconds, the composition of the pink sea became readily clear. An evil pink army of converted forest dwelling animals that included squirrels, foxes, and raccoons had come to say hello. A handful of the larger animals had war banners strapped to their backs. Upon each banner, a dolphin leapt through a flaming hoop with a pile of dead humans beneath it.

Charlie immediately grabbed hold of the log that recently tried to kill them all and swung onto it. The others followed suit—some not nearly as elegantly, specifically Captain Rescue and Stubbs, each for their own unique reasons. Captain Rescue was not quite athletic enough to make the jump onto the log, and Stubbs couldn’t do it without tearing his arms from their sockets—again. As the others helped the two up, they realized just how pressed for room they were atop this log. A couple of them were going to have to double up, which would create a most awkward yearbook photo. To keep the sea of evil pink animals from gnawing their feet off, the heroes grabbed hold of their knees and pulled their legs from the ground.

The army swarmed underneath them, growling and hissing in the most frightening of ways. The minotaur, who had been enjoying the show from the chasm, chuckled without saying a word. While, at first, the army was less than threatening as it loitered below them, these critters were not all bark. After a few tense seconds, they began stacking on top of each other, inching closer and closer to the log. Just as Captain Rescue yielded to panic and started screaming, Charlie revealed that he had just the thing to disperse this mob. Like Mary Poppins digging inside her magic carpetbag, Charlie rooted around in his pouch for a few moments then pulled out a rather large plainly wrapped parcel. Everyone looked to him, unsure of what the crazy man was doing.

He opened the package and removed a small animatronic man. Not just any man, though, a 24-inch tall hunter—every forest dwelling animal’s greatest nightmare. He wore a red and blue plaid shirt, overalls, and a hunting cap. In his hands was a generic bolt-action rifle. Charlie flipped him upside down, turned him on by the switch on his bum, and then placed him in the middle of the army. The hunter walked around in circles playing a fuzzy recording.

“You’re gonna look nice on my mantle,” the animatronic hunter said.

As he raised and lowered his rifle and walked around in circles, the army spread and kept its distance, but did not flee in horror.

“Deer season is my favorite season.”

He then fired his rifle as sparks flew from the tip, and it jerked upwards to simulate recoil. This did the trick, and animals fled for cover in every direction.