Ding! A crisp metallic sound reverberated as the object Sultan struck collided with the wall.
The thing bounced on the ground a few times before settling into silence once more. Yet, before the last echo of the unsettling noise could fade, Sultan was already at the spot, fumbling with his hands across the floor, desperate to seize it before it vanished into stillness again.
As he crouched there, frantically running his fingers in every direction, he silently prayed it would be something worthwhile. And indeed, useful it will turn out to be. not just that but the most valuable and helpful artifact Sultan would rely on for quite some time.
The back of his right wrist brushed against a slender, solid object, which he quickly snatched into his hands.
Upon Initial inspection, Sultan realized it was a knife.
Scrutinizing it more closely, it was not just any knife for it was one he knew all too well. He had been using it to prepare dinner before all this madness began.
Sultan sucked in a breath through his teeth.
The last thing he remembered was gripping the knife, idiotically debating whether to use it to cut off one of his limbs as he vanished. Had it accompanied him through whatever mystical force brought him here, only to slip from his grasp while he lay unconscious?
But something didn't add up.
Why had only the knife come with him when his clothes hadn't? The thought made him shiver anew. Sultan has been still naked since arriving here, the lack of clothes had even made him briefly wonder if he had died and buried.
But… what if, and Sultan dared to hope, his clothes had came with him as well, just resting in a different place in here.
Gripping the knife tightly in his right hand, he straitened up and continued his search with renewed vigor.
Like a dog sniffing for trail, Sultan got down on all fours, frantically patting the floor and running his fingers over the cold, smooth surface. At one point, he even let go of his recently reunited, beloved knife to be more thorough, casting it aside into a corner.
Yet Sultan was distant to be disappointed.
In the end, he found nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a pebble. as though a skillful thief had swept through and left it spotless, The place was barren and plain, stripped of all things, even dust.
"Then why the knife?" Sultan muttered under his breath.
Ultimately, He decided not to question it too deeply. A knife was a useful tool, and in his current situation, he needed all the help he could get.
"ooh, you got a knife." {a cheering-face emoji}
"but… do you know how to use it?" {a thoughtful-face emoji}
"and not for chopping vegetables, if you got what I mean." {a winking emoji}
Sultan scowled at the projected chat window, his irritation mounting as he scanned the recent messages. The psycho had been monologuing endlessly, commenting on Sultan's every move as he searched the room. Initially, he had planned to ask about the knife, but after reading through this stream of nonsense, he wasn't in the mood for another far-fetched, ridiculous reply.
So, he glared at the chat some more, closed it, and turned his attention back to the room; Sultan set out for one last, thorough search, wishing that he had overlooked some uncovered areas.
The room ,unsurprisingly, offered no other objects, no supplies, no clues, just an oppressive emptiness. Sighing, Sultan retrieved the knife and approached the opening in the wall.
***
As Sultan crawled through the corridor-like tunnel, an inappropriate thought crossed his mind.
Well, it originated like that.
Here he was, naked, wriggling on hands and knees through a dark, narrow passage after awakening in a hollow, lightless cubicle.
could this be interpreted as a rebirth of sorts?
And the improper part is: If the dim chamber he just abandoned could be considered his mother's womb, Sultan was at this moment creeping in the place babies come out of.
"Dammit, the psycho has corrupted me," he thought, cursing the lunatic he'd just known for barely a few hours. Yet Somehow, their infectious, twisted sense of humor had already rubbed off on him.
a man given a second life?
What rubbish.
Sultan should have learned it by now. life was rarely that kind.
And even if the inconceivable happened, second lives are always worse than their predecessors.
'Second chances,' Sultan thought grimly, 'usually came with heavier burdens, not lighter ones.'
Shaking off the dark thought, he focused on a brighter action, moving forward. Sultan has an arrow to follow to salvation.
A moment later, he found his head kissing a cold, metallic barrier.
A dead-end.
following the arrow had led him strait into a dead-end.
Sultan gritted his teeth, pain pulsing through his skull, leaving him disoriented and frustrated..
"tough luck." [sad-face emoji], the psycho ,as always, with a remark on que, constantly straining Sultan's limits.
Yet before his feel of annoyance at the citizen boil over into a tirade of swearing and cursing, because of giving him a map that leads to nowhere, another response arrived.
"I know what you're thinking." They sent.
"you're going to pitch about how I gave you a map that leads to nowhere."
"Save your breath and retrace your steps. The map will automatically recalibrate once you're far enough from any abstruction."
"fuck you," Was the only response sultan delivered.
"you're always welcome." [a grinning-face emoji]
After rubbing his tender, swelling head a few times, Sultan attempted to shift his body with as much grace as he could muster to face the other direction.
Naturally, the attempt turned out to be quite awkward and humiliating.
The channel through which he traveled was too restrictive, too binding for such a simple maneuver to be executed comfortably.
Sultan cringed
He truly was ashamed of his performance. A performance made worse by the fact that there were nothing to cover his private parts.
good then that there were no one to witness him, as well.
And soon enough, Sultan was sliding once again through the strange pathway.
The tunnel felt like a tube, constricting and claustrophobic. The air was stale, carrying no hints of where it might lead.
This ,sequentially, made The process far from easy. Every twist and turn scraped against sultan's shoulders, knees, and elbows. the walls were always too tight, always shrinking to come short of that needed inch for him to pass adequately.
As a result, Sultan wandered, his thoughts turning toward the tunnel's nature.
Pressing on, he became more certain and perplexed in the same time.
Sultan grew into his incline of it being an artificial construction.
And more perplexed for he can't find an obvious goal for making the pathways that tiny.
Then, Sultan had an amusing thought. Hypothetically, they may have been constructed by a very little folks. Smiling to himself , Sultan couldn't resist picturing the absurdity of a tiny person rounding the corner and coming face to face with him. To such folks, he would appear as massive as an elephant does to an average human.
He can almost see them taking a step back, eyes widening in horror and disbelief. The poor things would be scared shitless.
Next, they will go assemble there armies to bring him down .
'we wouldn't want that, would we?' Sultan mused internally , 'I can't ask for direction if they are keen into puncturing my body using their tiny guns.'
Let's hope it never comes to that .
not only because that would deprive him of the crucial aid he needs, but also because Sultan believes he'd die from laughter before their miniature weapons even had a chance to reach him.
Moreover, there is a more believable and conceivable explanation. Sultan reasoned that the tunnels were just a part of an intricate infrastructure system, which probably serving as a conduit for the transportation and management of liquids, gases, or even solid materials.
Not after too long, he began to perceive a change in the environment.
First, the air shifted. The previously stagnant atmosphere gave way to faint currents, suggesting a more open space ahead.
Next came the smell: a pungent, sour stench that grew stronger with every breath. It clawed at Sultan's senses, dominating all the breathable air, reeking with every inhale and lingering long after every exhale.
Then, the ground ended.