Nigel led Lex through the demented staircase for what felt like an eternity. Each step felt more disorienting than the last. The walls were covered in twisted, maddening symbols, etched so deeply into the surface that they seemed to writhe in the dim light. Every time Lex looked at them, she felt the subtle pull of vertigo, the sense that her mind was being stretched thinner and thinner. The symbols seemed to hum with a terrible energy, their meaning beyond comprehension, yet their presence undeniable.
As they climbed, strange noises filled the air—whispers, screams, and unintelligible murmurs that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Each one felt like a knife, scraping against her mind. She gritted her teeth, trying to block it out, but each scream pierced deeper, making her body tense in reaction. It wasn't just auditory—she felt the sensation of pain with each one, a sharp sting in her skull.
Nigel made countless turns, leading her through impossible geometries. At one point, they were walking on the ceiling, defying all sense of logic. Lex stumbled, her eyes spinning as the walls twisted around her, then they were falling—tumbling through a massive hole that had opened beneath their feet, only to land lightly, as though the laws of gravity had been rewritten. The staircase was a place of pure madness, a chaotic realm where the rules of the world had no bearing.
Time stretched thin and useless as they moved. It felt like hours, or perhaps days, as they ventured deeper into this nightmare. There was no way to measure time here. Lex felt disoriented, her body aching from the unnerving shifts in gravity and motion. And through it all, Nigel remained calm, his movements almost robotic, practiced—like he was walking through a familiar world. The contrast made Lex more uneasy. There was nothing normal about this place.
Finally, just when Lex thought she might lose her mind completely, they reached a large, imposing gate. The metal was rusted, jagged, and covered in the same strange symbols that decorated the walls. The gate creaked open as if it had been waiting for them. As they passed through, the disorienting sensation lessened, though the air was still thick with a sense of foreboding.
Inside, there was a range—a small, isolated shooting range. Several targets were positioned at varying distances, all eerily still. Nigel turned to Lex, a faint grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"This is the range," he said, gesturing to the space ahead. "I'll wait for you to finish. Then, I'll drop you off at the surface."
He gave a casual wave and walked away, pulling out a cigarette as he went, his body twisting in an almost unnatural way as he settled into a relaxed stance near the edge of the range.
Lex took a slow breath, grounding herself in the moment. She could feel the weight of the revolver in her holster, the cool weight of the bronze barrel pressing against her side. She walked inside the range, her footsteps echoing softly in the silence. The space felt oddly still, like a place meant for focus and solitude.
She moved to her designated spot and reached for the revolver. The birch handle felt familiar in her hands, warm despite the coldness of the air around her. She clicked open the chamber, inspecting each of the six slots. All were loaded. Satisfied, she closed the chamber, spun it, and cocked the hammer back with a smooth, deliberate motion.
She raised the revolver, aiming carefully at the target farthest away. Her breath steadied, and with the practiced calm of someone who had spent too many hours in similar situations, she squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
The shot echoed loudly in the otherwise silent room.
She frowned, lowering the gun. Far right, she thought, her frustration barely contained. She'd expected to hit the target first try—everyone always made it seem so easy. The momentary self-doubt was quickly shoved aside. She took a deep breath, refocused, and raised the gun again.
The day passed slowly. Three hours. Three long hours of missed shots, minor adjustments, and tiny successes. By the end of it, Lex had begun to hit the target consistently. Her shots were more controlled, her aim sharper. She only had eight bullets remaining, and the tension in her shoulders had finally begun to ease. A small grin tugged at her lips as she holstered the revolver. She could feel the improvement in her body. It had taken longer than she'd hoped, but she was better now.
"Time to find Nigel," she muttered to herself, stepping away from the range. The weight of the revolver still pressed against her side, a reminder that she was no longer the same person who had entered this place.
As she exited the range, Lex found Nigel sitting casually in front of the door, sprawled out on the ground in an odd, contorted position, as if he had just fallen ten stories. His limbs were splayed out at unnatural angles. The sight sent a shiver down Lex's spine. It wasn't the fall that disturbed her—it was the casualness with which he lay there.
She cleared her throat, snapping him out of his strange resting posture.
"Ahem," she said, her voice loud in the silent space.
Nigel's head jerked up at the sound. A grin spread across his face, as wide as it had been when they first met.
"Oh! Lex!" He sat up quickly, almost springing into action. His movements were rapid, like the springs of an old watch winding back into place. "Is it that time already?" He asked, brushing off the dirt from his clothes, looking as though he hadn't just been laying on the ground in such a strange, disturbing way.
Lex stood silently, watching him. She couldn't help but feel a sense of unease watching the old man move. He was unpredictable in ways she hadn't fully come to terms with.
"I hope you had a good time and got familiar with your gun," he said with a small, genuine smile before turning to lead her back. "Let's head back up. It's a long way to the top."
They began the long, twisting journey back up the stairs. With each step, the disorienting effects of the stairs lessened, but Lex felt no less drained. Her body ached, her mind buzzed with residual tension, but she forced herself to remain composed. The journey felt endless, each step seeming to stretch farther and farther into the unknown.
When they finally reached the top, Nigel pushed open a door—this one seemingly normal compared to the madness they had just left behind. The door creaked open, revealing the road where Lex had arrived, the sidewalk bathed in the light of the outside world. For a moment, she stood in silence, staring at the familiar scene. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she'd first entered that dark building, and yet, it had only been hours.
"Thank you, Nigel," Lex said, giving him a polite nod.
"Anytime," Nigel replied, his grin still present, though there was something unsettling about it now. With a final wave, he turned and walked back toward the staircase, disappearing into the shadows behind him.
Lex stepped onto the sidewalk, the normal world greeting her like a slap to the face. As she walked, she couldn't help but notice the eyes of the people around her. They were staring—some with curiosity, others with fear. She was an anomaly now, something to be whispered about. A woman with wild red hair and a red dress, and bandages over her eyes.
Children she passed stared at her wide-eyed, their expressions filled with wonder and confusion. They would remember her. She would become part of their urban legends, stories whispered between them long after she was gone. She could already feel it—the way people looked at her as though she were something out of place, something strange and unsettling.
In less than an hour, Lex had become a walking myth in Backlund. And as she strolled down the sidewalk, her mind still buzzing from the range, a thought crept into her mind, one she hadn't fully allowed herself to confront until now.
Was the price she'd paid for wearing the bandages any worse than revealing the black eyes that had been cursed upon her? Every step felt heavier as the weight of that question gnawed at her. She had chosen to hide behind the bandages, to walk the streets as an enigma, but at what cost? The whispers and murmurs that would follow her were bad enough, but what if her true eyes—those black, hollow orbs—were far worse to reveal? What if she was walking a thin line, between being feared and being...something else entirely?
She didn't know.
But she did know one thing: it didn't matter right now. The bandages kept her safe, kept her hidden in the shadow of mystery. And perhaps that was enough for now.
Lex pushed the thought to the back of her mind and kept walking down the sidewalk, her pace steady. The world might not know what she had become yet—but it would. And she'd deal with whatever came next when the time came.