HOME | DD

Description
This part of the castle hadn’t existed before Yocury’s return. Of that he was absolutely certain. Deep beneath what he had thought was the wine cellar until not twenty minutes ago, was a long, long, never-endingly long hallway. It hummed around him with power, fresh stonework pressed in around him. The Master was nowhere to be heard, and the Child’s laughter was silent.
He assumed that was likely a bad sign, and treaded with caution. The walls themselves, though never-ending, were as nondescript as could be. There were no sources of light, despite the fact that he could see perfectly down here, and the most interesting thing about the hall was that every so often the perfect pattern of slightly off-set brick would break with a row that leaned slightly more right or left than all the previous rows. The ground was stone. The ceiling was stone, the walls were stone. The walls were as far apart as two of him, if he was being generous, and the ceiling so low that were he in his new serpentine form his ear-tip would touch the stone.
Claustrophobic. So why did he keep pushing forward as if something would change if he only walked for endless hours? He suspected it was like most endless hallway nightmares, that he would never reach the beginning again--nor the end. That was fine. He had endless time, and more patience. If it kept him away from the rest of the castle, he’d walk for a century.
The narrow hallway continued onwards, straight and never-ending. Yocury continued to walk, careful, cautious steps on the stone, hooves clicking steadily against the floor. It was soothing, it was relaxing. He could go for hours like this. Days. The only hesitation was how alone he was.
It was at the hour mark, the distant bell far far above him tolling mealtime, that something changed. The stone became darker. Black as night, and the abrupt change reminded Yocury of the abyss. He hesitated, cautious clawing at his belly. What if this was some sort of elaborate trap by the Master to get him in trouble? What if this dropped him back in that infernal city? The black stone was not His. He sniffed at the black space before him. Nothing beyond this was His Nightmare. Sucking in a deep breath, he considered turning around. But something drew him onwards. Something deep and intrinsic… it was calling to him. So he pushed into the sudden darkness, into the… extension of his nightmare. How long would he walk through here, he wondered?
Soon the sound of hooves on stone faded into memory, and Yocury flicked his tails, stretched them out around him. There was no stone at their tips. No walls. Only darkness. That… stirred something. He gulped, closed his eye. Counted. One, two, three, four…
He opened his eye to more darkness. He looked back behind him, flicked his ears. Darkness greeted him. Forward again, and more darkness. His breath quickened, and his mouth felt dry. The claustrophobia of the stone walls had already frayed his nerves. Now his legs trembled and he felt small in an endless expanse of darkness. There was nowhere to run, though. He was trapped in the darkness, his breath coming in sharp pants.
He closed his eye once more, tightly, willing the swirling colors of light through his lids into existence--but they wouldn’t come.
He was alone.
Fear took him, then, and he ran.

He ran for what felt like years, straight ahead, hoping beyond hope that he would reach the end of the passage. Hoofbeats on stone rang in his ear again and he skidded to a stop, panting each frantic breath of the frigid air of his kingdom. The walls had returned, he was in a room now. An unfamiliar, perfectly square room of stone, with three exits.
The one he’d entered from, the 2-hims wide space that was just tall enough to accommodate a serpent… and two more, at the other end of the room.
To the left, a perfect ivory arch, one that beckoned to him with an image of the Master, cast in shadow. Behind the Master was of course, the familiar room Yocury spent most of his days in. The familiarity felt like a snare, and instinctively he stepped towards it. Towards his prison of solitude.
The door to the right, however, cast in ebony, flashed another image, bright and glaring as if to get his attention despite his blindness on that side.. Cast in… inverted shadows, Yocury recognized the shape of the Treat who had betrayed him. He froze and took a step back, and flicked his tails. Within the frame of the door, the Treat danced and pranced about. Flashes of familiar places--that Sushi place Yocury had enjoyed so much, an empty city, other kingdoms--he watched the promise of freedom flutter past him.
His heart swelled, and the stone fell away around him, leaving only the doors.
Master beckoned, and the Treat played with a stygian Yocury only half recognized. He looked between the doors, the crushing weight of decision riding on his shoulders.
There was a flash of someone familiar, a human figure, strong and proud in the frame of the black doorway.
A memory rose, unbidden. Another lifetime. Another dimension. What he was before he was even a figment.
He leaped into the black archway, Master forgotten, freedom at the tip of his hooves.
His Stygian form melted away, leaving a peculiar black white fox to prance through the gateway instead.

Description
This part of the castle hadn’t existed before Yocury’s return. Of that he was absolutely certain. Deep beneath what he had thought was the wine cellar until not twenty minutes ago, was a long, long, never-endingly long hallway. It hummed around him with power, fresh stonework pressed in around him. The Master was nowhere to be heard, and the Child’s laughter was silent.
He assumed that was likely a bad sign, and treaded with caution. The walls themselves, though never-ending, were as nondescript as could be. There were no sources of light, despite the fact that he could see perfectly down here, and the most interesting thing about the hall was that every so often the perfect pattern of slightly off-set brick would break with a row that leaned slightly more right or left than all the previous rows. The ground was stone. The ceiling was stone, the walls were stone. The walls were as far apart as two of him, if he was being generous, and the ceiling so low that were he in his new serpentine form his ear-tip would touch the stone.
Claustrophobic. So why did he keep pushing forward as if something would change if he only walked for endless hours? He suspected it was like most endless hallway nightmares, that he would never reach the beginning again--nor the end. That was fine. He had endless time, and more patience. If it kept him away from the rest of the castle, he’d walk for a century.
The narrow hallway continued onwards, straight and never-ending. Yocury continued to walk, careful, cautious steps on the stone, hooves clicking steadily against the floor. It was soothing, it was relaxing. He could go for hours like this. Days. The only hesitation was how alone he was.
It was at the hour mark, the distant bell far far above him tolling mealtime, that something changed. The stone became darker. Black as night, and the abrupt change reminded Yocury of the abyss. He hesitated, cautious clawing at his belly. What if this was some sort of elaborate trap by the Master to get him in trouble? What if this dropped him back in that infernal city? The black stone was not His. He sniffed at the black space before him. Nothing beyond this was His Nightmare. Sucking in a deep breath, he considered turning around. But something drew him onwards. Something deep and intrinsic… it was calling to him. So he pushed into the sudden darkness, into the… extension of his nightmare. How long would he walk through here, he wondered?
Soon the sound of hooves on stone faded into memory, and Yocury flicked his tails, stretched them out around him. There was no stone at their tips. No walls. Only darkness. That… stirred something. He gulped, closed his eye. Counted. One, two, three, four…
He opened his eye to more darkness. He looked back behind him, flicked his ears. Darkness greeted him. Forward again, and more darkness. His breath quickened, and his mouth felt dry. The claustrophobia of the stone walls had already frayed his nerves. Now his legs trembled and he felt small in an endless expanse of darkness. There was nowhere to run, though. He was trapped in the darkness, his breath coming in sharp pants.
He closed his eye once more, tightly, willing the swirling colors of light through his lids into existence--but they wouldn’t come.
He was alone.
Fear took him, then, and he ran.

He ran for what felt like years, straight ahead, hoping beyond hope that he would reach the end of the passage. Hoofbeats on stone rang in his ear again and he skidded to a stop, panting each frantic breath of the frigid air of his kingdom. The walls had returned, he was in a room now. An unfamiliar, perfectly square room of stone, with three exits.
The one he’d entered from, the 2-hims wide space that was just tall enough to accommodate a serpent… and two more, at the other end of the room.
To the left, a perfect ivory arch, one that beckoned to him with an image of the Master, cast in shadow. Behind the Master was of course, the familiar room Yocury spent most of his days in. The familiarity felt like a snare, and instinctively he stepped towards it. Towards his prison of solitude.
The door to the right, however, cast in ebony, flashed another image, bright and glaring as if to get his attention despite his blindness on that side.. Cast in… inverted shadows, Yocury recognized the shape of the Treat who had betrayed him. He froze and took a step back, and flicked his tails. Within the frame of the door, the Treat danced and pranced about. Flashes of familiar places--that Sushi place Yocury had enjoyed so much, an empty city, other kingdoms--he watched the promise of freedom flutter past him.
His heart swelled, and the stone fell away around him, leaving only the doors.
Master beckoned, and the Treat played with a stygian Yocury only half recognized. He looked between the doors, the crushing weight of decision riding on his shoulders.
There was a flash of someone familiar, a human figure, strong and proud in the frame of the black doorway.
A memory rose, unbidden. Another lifetime. Another dimension. What he was before he was even a figment.
He leaped into the black archway, Master forgotten, freedom at the tip of his hooves.
His Stygian form melted away, leaving a peculiar black white fox to prance through the gateway instead.