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Message: <blockquote data-quote="awayfarer" data-source="post: 4227644" data-attributes="member: 42702">Ernest Stibman as Penelope Dondelinger in The Other World, PT-2In the morning they packed some of the coarse bread and a pair of canteens but little else. If they survived this, the trip back to the cave would be minimal. If not, they wouldn’t need anything else. The pair set out shortly after sunup.About midday they passed through the remains of a quaint village surrounded by heavy woods. “My hometown.” Tarentia said, mournfully. Most of the houses were cottages. Some only had thatch for roofing and few had more than one floor. A stone pit sat at the foot of a water tower. “It’s no good to drink. I’ve tried.” Terentian mentioned. “The pit was once a pool but it has since dried up. I imagine the tower water is still there since it’s not exposed to the sun.” They sat at the pools edge, took out their bread and ate.“Srr..” Ernest swallowed before continuing, “So, you never told me how it is you know English?” He queried“We know…we knew several languages. Your father was not the first to come here. There were seven others. Five of them came to live among us and we recorded their ways and their languages. One was…what was it? Spanish, many hundreds of years ago. There was another even further back than that, Ojibwa I believe it was called. Anyway, your father was the last visitor we had.”She blushed at these words. “Well, the last since you arrived.” He gulped down the last mouthful of bread. It felt like a pool ball going down. He took a sip of water.There was a clicking noise.Out of the woods twenty feet away emerged a pitch-black creature on four thin legs like pool cues. It was vaguely scorpion-shaped in that it had a long tail, a corrugated, chitonous body, two long arms and a giant mandibled maw.It was not like a scorpion in that a dark grey, malevolent human face dripped acid from a tiny “o” shaped mouth at the end of the tail. The two arms were not like an insects claws, rather they were enormous, brawny things with hammer-like fists at the ends. The body was elevated several feet off the ground by its long legs.“Ogre!” Tarentia screamed. She threw down her bread and leapt away. The ogre pursued. Ernest barely had enough time to get to his feet. “Hey you!” he cried. “Oh <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />.” he thought “Go fish” said his subconscious.He got the ogre’s attention. It charged Ernest and the actor, in his haste to get away tripped. He fell backward; his canteen spilled its contents in the air.The ogre tripped o the airborne water, straight into what was once the pool. It crashed squarely into the opposite side. Both Ernest and the hideous thing got up slowly.Tarentia stood nearby, looking around wildly. “Find an axe!” she shouted.“What good would it do!?” cried Ernest. The Ogre slipped on the smooth pool bottom. It was having trouble getting up but this probably wouldn’t be the case for long. Ernest rushed around to the rear of a small cottage. As luck would have it a large, albeit rusty, woodsman’s axe stuck out from the trunk of a long dead tree. As Ernest pulled it out a hunk of the blade snapped clean off. He grimaced.Tarentia was already at the edge of the water tower; hacking away at one of the supports with a small hatchet she’d found somewhere. The ogre was up and skittering around the pool. Ernest rushed around the deep side and it pursued, waving an enormous fist at him as he passed. Man and woman hacked one each at two of the rotted beams of the tower.On Ernest’s third stroke the rusty axe broke and embedded itself in the beam. The ogre was up now and climbing out. “Tarentia, go!” Ernest shouted. She was still only halfway through her beam and would never finish in time. She ran. Ernest stood in front of his beam and waited.The ogre was mostly out of the pool. It swung a huge arm and connected with the half-chopped beam with the axe still stuck in it. Ernest dodged, who’d have thought walking in high-hells could have made him so nimble?The axe head was pushed the rest of the way through the beam. The tower crumbled, smashing into the ogre on its way down. The old, stagnant water filled the pool with a loud rushing noise. The waves subsided. Frozen in place in the middle, one fist still sticking above the surface, was the ogre.Ernest’s breath came in heavy, ragged gasps. His heart felt like it would burst from the stress. Tarentia came over to him. They embraced, tightly and sunk to their knees.“We got one.” She cried, quietly. “I can’t believe it.”Ernest nodded. They knelt there for a while, one supporting the other.They stayed for a little while to examine their handiwork. “Is it?” Ernest began.“I think so. I’m sure they need to breathe like anything else.” Came the reply.        They moved on.    It was late in the day when they reached the woods surrounding The Ossuary. “Their lair. They’ve spun some strange silk around it. It doesn’t stick, like a spiders would, but I think that they know if it’s been disturbed. Try to avoid stepping in it if you can.”It took time to get through the web-like material. Ernest had always been thin and limber and training to be Penelope Dondelinger had pushed him even further. He had next to no difficulty in avoiding the webs. Tarentia made do as best she could, but she lagged behind him.        They emerged from the woods into a stone courtyard overgrown with weeds strewn with bones, and a few animal corpses in different state of decomposition.        “Quickly now. If we can take them by surprise we’ll be that much better off.” Tarentia whispered.” Ernest nodded. Something brushed Tarentia’s sleeve as they left the woods. “Just a strand.” She gasped “I’m sure it’s nothing.” Her look suggested that she wasn’t so certain.        The gate of the former royal palace, now the ogre’s nest, was wide open. By the look of the dust aside the two enormous iron doors they hadn’t been opened in some time. The left one hung only off its lower hinge, the upper hinge completely torn away. The door on the right had numerous dents. Each was orange-red, marked by years of decay. The sight beyond the door was even less inviting.        The front hall of The Ossuary was full of bones, but much less haphazardly placed than those outside. Bones were stacked in neat, even rows. Bones were arranged carefully upon an alter that was obviously not created for the task. The death in the room clashed with its original purpose as a sanctuary. Ernest was surprised to see a figure hung upon a cross it’s complete details blotted out by the light from the window behind it. He was going to ask Tarentia how her people came to know of Christianity when he realized that the figure was really the husk of some apelike creature nailed to a pair of wooden slats. Ernest felt his stomach twist. They moved on. Tarentia remained silent, her head bowed until they were out of the hall. “They’re beasts, but they do…they do such intricate things with the bones. We never knew why. We’ll never know why.” Her voice wavered. Ernest thought that she suddenly seemed very small.        Past the cathedral of the opening hall was a large, circular courtyard some two hundred feet across, an immense stone fountain at its center. There were three other doorways that led into it such that they were lined up like the directions on a compass. The fountains till ran, although only at a small trickle of what it must have once been capable of. The center spout was easily twenty feet tall or larger.        The two quickly crossed the courtyard and the sounds of clicking began when they were only halfway there. “The weapons in the fountain!” The two remaining ogres clicked their way into the yard on their lance-like legs. The two roared with the same unearthly bellow Ernest heard before. All four being in the courtyard: Ernest, Tarentia, the two ogres, charged for the fountain.        All arrived at nearly the same time, such that the two ogres collided into one another and the two people had to dive into the fountain to avoid them. It was surprisingly deep but half empty and Ernest banged his head on the bottom as he fell. He momentarily felt nauseous, his vision blurred, and then he saw them as if in a fever dream.        Two silver spikes sat on the bottom of the fountain, which waved ferociously as the ogres pounded the surface. The spikes glistened in the little light that reached this far down. Each was attached to a small slanted platform as if…        “Oh no” Ernest thought “You’ve got to be kidding me” Either he’d hit his head harder than he thought, or the weapons Tarentia mentioned were a pair of the sharpest stiletto heels he had ever seen.        They couldn’t hold their breath forever, and the ogres were striking the surface of the water so fiercely that Tarentia and Ernest were nearly uncovered when the trough of the waves moved over them. Ernest scrambled over the stone fountain floor, grasped the shoes and hastily slipped them on. His leg stuck out of the water as he did so, and just as he finished slipping the last shoe on, a gargantuan fist grasped him by the ankle and tore him from the brackish water.        There was a popping noise as Ernest was tossed head over heels into the air and pain shot through his leg. He had one confused glimpse of Tarentia, curled into a ball and desperately holding her breath as the other ogre tried fruitlessly to reach her. It seemed like forever until Ernest finally fell on the back of the ogre that tossed him.        He sat up on the beasts back. A horrid, venomous face hissed at him, a drop of liquid fell from its mouth, burning his skin. It reared back to strike. Ernest shut his eyes and threw his hands over his face. He reflexively kicked his leg up and felt the force of the thing’s head slam into his foot, resulting in another loud pop and a worse pain than before.        There was a sudden sensation of being lifted. Ernest opened his eyes long enough to see one of his heels jammed directly into the creatures throat. A thick, grey ichor spewed from the wound. The ogre thrashed, whipping the attached actor violently. With one final whip of its neck Ernest was released. He came crashing into the fountainhead. The ogre fell over dead.        The last remaining ogre bellowed a shrill, ululating death-cry for its comrade. It ignored Tarentia for the moment and clacked its way around the fountain in an attempt to destroy Ernest, who lay conscious but crumpled around the fountain top.        “Tarentia?” he muttered. The star of Penelope Dondelinger was barely awake. His head swam. A massive dark blur approached him, a small segment of it whipped back. He was barely able to roll out of the way when a viscous greenish gray slush splattered the fountainhead. Smoke poured from where it hit.        The roll put Ernest on a lower portion of the fountain, and he found himself once again in the grip of an enormous fist. It drew him back and was going to batter him against the stones of the courtyard when a voice came from the other side of the fountain.        “Leave him alone! Come and get me!” Tarentia yelled. She had found a spear somewhere and was waving it in the ogre’s general direction. It dropped Ernest on the stones with a thud and walked ever so slowly to the opposite side.        The actor was in a bad way. His breath came rapidly but each gasp hurt. He could see Tarentia, her dress an emerald blur, being swallowed up by a large black shadow that crept towards her. With an anguished groan Ernest began to climb the fountain.        Tarentia kept as much of the spear between her and the ogre as possible. She hadn’t thought of what to do once she had the things attention and it dawned on her that when she died her people as a whole would cease to exist. The ogre spat from its tail and the sludge caught a portion of her dress, dissolving it instantly and marring a patch of stone behind her. She dodged but one of the ogre’s enormous arms caught her. It began to draw her to the enormous mandibles between its gargantuan limbs.        Ernest had barely reached the halfway point of the fountain, but he didn’t need to be at the top for this to work. Pained and bleeding he crept around just behind the ogre. This was to be the end. He wished he had been an action star, not some stupid cross-dressing geek. He wished he could spout some catchphrase and slay the bad guy and get the girl all with ease. None of this was easy. He wished he had something witty to say.        “Hey, you!” he shouted. The ogre whipped its tail around. The tail narrowed its eyes. There was a hiss.        “GO FISH!” Ernest shouted. As witty lines go it wasn’t the best. He leapt from the fountain as best as he could with one broken leg. The heel was planted firmly under the ogres jaw. There was one last screeching, chittering bellow. The ogre stumbled around on its little legs and fell over dead. Ernest toppled over with it.        Tarentia freed herself from the massive arm and ran over to the fallen hero. “Oh god! What were you thinking! You’re insane Ernest!”        “What?” he replied. It was not the thanks he’d expected.        “Trying to kill two ogres with a pair of shoes! You’re mad!” Tarentia paused “but…but you did it!” She embraced him: a wonderful but painful gesture. Ernest winced.        “Those weren’t…those weren’t the weapons!?” he bawled.        “No! Er, I meant one of these spears. I can’t believe you missed them! They were right there on the fountain bottom!”        Ernest chuckled, then laughed. He laughed loudly though it hurt like hell. Tarentia joined him. They laughed, and laughed and laughed and it echoed through the halls of the now monster-less Ossuary        A month passed, uneventfully. They lived in the cave for now but would move into one of the houses soon. Ernest’s wounds were healing nicely. He still had some trouble getting around but Tarentia fabricated a makeshift crutch that helped immensely. It was nice just to lay down for a while anyway.        She entered the room just as Ernest awoke, carrying with her a little coarse bread, some fresh water and some strawberries that were picked that morning.        “Morning Hon.” She smiled. The ex-actor gladly took the food and took a large swig of water from the mug she proffered. “I think I’m nearly ready to start burying the bones.” He stated. “I don’t know that we can find him, his remains that is, but I’d like to have some small ceremony for my father if we can. We can do it for all of them.”        “I’m hoping now…” Tarentia replied; her azure eyes positively shimmered “…that we might find some others alive. Maybe some others hid from the ogres. It’s a slim hope, but it’s all I need. No I don’t hope, I’m sure we’ll find someone.” She lay by his side, placed her head on his chest and closed her eyes.        Ernest smiled. Somewhere out there in another world was a movie called Penelope Dondelinger that will never, ever be finished.</blockquote>

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