The Bottomless Pit of Despair
Meanwhile, in Effluvia, a crowd of another kind was gathering. But this crowd was assembling in the hope of death, not life.
However, if the Effluvians were honest with themselves, they would admit they were squeamish about witnessing the execution. But that was something they would never do. That would mean they would have to stand up for themselves. And that could lead to all sorts of trouble. They may be accused of being unpatriotic or, worse still, be banished to an unpolluted kingdom.
So they distracted their minds with the anticipation of the Replenishment and the chance of seeing of their beloved king again. These thoughts overshadowed the fact that they would first have to witness the life force being drained from their enemies.
Besides, the survival of their kingdom was far more important than the lives of a few hairskins. Their priority was that pollution was restored, falling temperatures were raised and sewage levels replenished.
The road to the site of the Replenishment was teeming with Effluvians crawling, slithering, hopping, loping and hobbling their way to the event. It was rare to see any Effluvian move faster than a leisurely crawl, but today was different. For today they had a purpose, which in itself was unique.
Normally, Effluvians lived every day exactly the same as the previous day, and the day before that and the day before that. One pustule-ridden slug remarked that the last time he had seen his grandfather move this fast was when a twenty-legged scorpion had stung the old man on a sensitive part of his anatomy.
The citizens filed their way to the Power Station where the Replishment was to take place. The building was a towering grey monolith with ten enormous chimney stacks sticking out from its roof. The smoke rising from them was a foul concoction of gasses and fumes that smelled of rotting eggs and horse manure.
As the spectators passed through steel doors, they read the sign above the entrance in awe. It read:
EFFLUVIA POWER STATION
ABANDON ALL HOPE
WHO ENTER
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They squawked, ribbited and burped as they filed in and squabbled amongst themselves for the best seats. It was, after all, a rare privilege to be allowed into this hallowed place.
In the centre of the Power Station a tangle of sinuous black pipes rose out of the ground. They were disgorging sticky, black and bile-coloured liquids carrying unspeakable lumps of gunge into a vast pit that was the core of the Power Station - the Bottomless Pit of Despair. Each pipe had been labelled to identify the contents of each of the pipe: ‘Sadness’, ‘Hopelessness’, ‘Hate’, ‘Jealousy’, ‘Spite’ and ‘Greed’.
The liquid coagulated in the pit, making a belching, bubbling foul mixture spewing noxious gasses that roiled upwards in a dark cloud. Above the Pit hung the chimneys that carried the fumes from the Power Station out of the skylight and into the Effluvian atmosphere.
Near the pit, a grand platform surrounded by red velvet curtaining edged with gold trim had been erected. In front of it was a banner annnouncing in gold lettering: ‘Welcome to the Rejuvenation’. And beneath that, in small letters: ‘Proudly sponsored by the Effluvia Energy Corporation’.
Standing next to the Pit was a large builder’s crane creeking ominously with the weight of a human-sized cage suspended from its hook.
The Effluvians became fidgety as they stared with alarm at the empty cage. Execution had seemed like a good idea when their king had announced it at the Notional Exaltation Day, but they had since changed their minds. The sight of the barbaric cage sent shivers down their slimy spines and murky innards. Some began to think that they would far rather be watching the execution on their local television station, KBURP. That way, all the gruesome parts could be edited out, or they could disappear to the kitchen to make tea if they felt squeamish. An execution is easy to support, as long as it doesn’t happen in your own swamp.
“Braaaaaaaaak” burped a five-tailed, eight-eyed salamander, “I forgot I left a potpan on my stovenator at home. Do you brainwork His Kingliness would mind if I wended home?” he asked his brother seated next to him.
“Flubbrulub” answered his brother, “I wouldn’t if I was youness. His Kingliness may have you unheaded.”
“Ohly noly!” came the alarmed reply. The salamander hunched his head into his shoulders and covered all of his eight eyes as best he could.
That went for most of the Effluvians. Yesterday’s enthusiastic shouts at the stadium of “unembowel them” had been replaced by nervous whispers and quivering lips. Everybody suddenly wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. The herd mentality isn’t easy to keep alive without someone whipping up the irrational to do the unthinkable.
Then, sswwiiisssh. The whispering died down as the platform curtain suddenly parted. The citizen’s uneasiness was quickly forgotten as they eagerly waited for the appearance of their beloved king. Their common sense had been brushed aside and replaced by blind loyalty.
The company of the King’s Royal Fighting Trumpeter Corps marched onto the platform with perfect precision and took up their positions.
“Oooooh!” gasped the Effluvians in awe. The king’s army were legendary, but most citizens had never seen them. Chests swelled with pride at the sight, making Murkslime and Wormrot’s pustules swell ominously. Their neighbours quickly ducked in case the pustules burst; even slimy creatures don’t like being slimed.
Effluvians were an apathetic bunch, and the sight of the fierce Royal Guards struck fear into their oily hearts. For millennia the rumours of the bloodthirstiness of the Royal Guards had been whispered about in swamps and mud pools. Nobody had actually seen them in action, but their reputation was legend. Their motto Struck terror into the bravest of slimey hearts: ‘Death conquers all’. But then, someone had to do the dirty work to protect Effluvia and its citizens’ way of life.
On the stage, the king’s troops were standing shoulder to shoulder. These troops had been hand-picked for their job and were the best of the giant bone-crunching, meat-eating komodo dragons that lived in Effluvia. Their scaly lizard bodies were dressed in the deep purple regalia and feathered hats that set them apart from the lower order of army troops. Although their uniforms didn’t fit their image, the citizens were in no doubt that these soldiers were powerful enough to squish any unruly Effluvians.
“Teeeen-Hut!” the commanding officer barked. The soldiers stood stiffly to attention, their heads held high.
“Companyyy preeeepare!”
With perfect timing, the corps reached into pouches hanging from their belts.
“At my commaaaand... preeeesent!”
The soliders yanked their arms out of the pouches and produced their musical instruments: bug-eyed bullfrogs.
“Ooooonnn my commaaand.... coooomence!” the order rang out.
The soldiers squashed the poor bullfrogs’ bodies and a ghastly chorus of wails and moans filled the air, sending shivers through the cold bloodstreams of the Effluvians. This was an audience that loved anguish and misery, but the sound disturbed even them. After a final, dreadful crescendo, the ghastly chorus announcing the king’s arrival ended.
The curtains parted again and a large glossy black leech took his place at the microphone. The audience whistled and jeered and threw anything they had handy at him. Sweet wrappers, empty cans and crisps packets went flying through the air. They had expected their king to appear, but this ugly bloodsucker was first going to give a boring speech.
“Slugger orf!” “Furl up and rot!”
“Sileeeeeence!” screeched the leech. The leech’s round mouth, ringed with thousands of tiny teeth, opened impossibly wide as he screamed at the crowd.
He peered at the Effluvians through thick spectacles. However, it was impossible to tell exactly where his eyes were because his head seemed to be one enormous mouth. The audience sank into silence, shocked at the loud voice that came from such a small body.
“Bad morrow mately Effluvians!” he boomed. “Goodlycome all-one to this extrememost impressly day in Effluvia’s timecount. We are agrouped to spectaview the deathacution of two hairskins who dared to infestrate our muchbelovedly Effluvia.”
The audience nervously applauded the announcement. The closer they got to the execution, the uneasier the crowd was becoming, and it was getting little too close for comfort. They were enjoying the pomp and splendour, but they were dreading the execution. The citizens of Effluvia were even more confused than normal, which is not surprising considering that polluted brains can’t think too clearly.
The leech, surprised at the crowd’s lack of enthusiasm at the promise of blood (he quivered with delight at the prospect), cleared his throat and continued with his speech.
“Ahem. So, unwith furmore adolay, I presentate His Most Sumpremiest Malajesty, King Maximus Destructium!”
“All hailness to the kiiiinng!” the audience shouted.
King Maximus swooped onto the stage with a dramatic flourish, his cobra’s head rearing majestically from the white fur collar of a red cape. On the crest of his head was perched the crown he had worn at his coronation. No expense had been spared to create the intricate gold chasing around its base that was studded with large rubies and diamonds the size of human eyeballs. But the gleam from the gemstones was almost too bright for the Effluvians’ eyes that were used to a weak sunlight permanently shrouded in smog.
The king waited for crowd to quieten down and then began.
“It is my royal pleasure to welcome you all, my loyal subjects, to this grand occasion. We have rarely, in the entire history of our beloved land, had cause to exercise severe forms of punishment. That is because we respect the laws of our forefathers and do not let greed nor selfishness dictate our behaviour. I know that you were as shocked as I at the audacious manner in which the hairskins dared infiltrate Effluvia.”
“At my coronation I swore to uphold the security of this land and the rule of law, and that is precisely the reason for this gathering. There are laws in this land, and there are none who shall defy me or my laws!” He reared his cobra’s head as he worked himself into frenzy.
The shocked audience glanced nervously at each other as their king lost his composure. They watched with alarm as saliva splattered on the ground in front of the king as he angrily spat out the words. Stunned silence hung over the crowd after his outburst. Morbidius, aware of the growing unease amongst his subjects, quickly turned on the charm.
“It nevertheless pains me to make these intruders pay the ultimate price for their treachery. However, let me assure you that it is in your own best interests and in the best interests of our society. I do what I do for you. I am... your faithful servant.” He bowed his head low in a subservient gesture, the hooded cape of his cobra’s head almost sweeping the floor.
This was more like it! Their king was taking the blame for the blood that was going to be spilled! His subjects applauded their noble king and cheered with relief.
Morbidius waited for the applause to die down. “I now call upon my faithful Lieutenant to bring out the hairskins so that we may pass judgement on them. Lieutenant Detritus, bring out the prisoners!” he commanded. The Mutandii came clattering through the curtains with the children clutched tightly in their claws.
“Good morning Morbidius. Killed anything interesting lately?” Ty asked sarcastically.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll give you an answer, you stupid human,” Morbidius seethed under his breath. He turned to address the audience again.
“See, my fellow Effluvians, how the hairskins show no remorse for their actions. By their behaviour, they display their lack of reverence for the sovereignty of Effluvia. And by their very presence they make themselves guilty of infiltration and possibly even sedition! Now, what do you say? Do I hear your calls of ‘guilty’ or ‘innocent’? What say you?”
Morbidius’s rousing words had whipped the audience into a zealous froth once more. They stood and cheered: “Guiltment! Guiltment! Guiltment!” Morbidius gazed around the room, revelling in his successful manipulation of the crowd.
“Citizens, I hear your unanimous calls for justice. And so, by the hairskins’ guilt, as you have rightly adjudged them, they have made themselves subject to the consequences as promulgated in our Supreme Book of Laws. And it thus falls upon me, as the Supreme Being of all of Effluvia, to ensure those Laws are adhered to. Their punishment shall be the Bottomless Pit of Despair, which shall eat away their dreams and dull their minds. All thoughts of happiness shall be destroyed and despair shall set in, until it finally drains their life force and destroys their bodies.”
“Hailness, all hailness to King Maximus!” shouted the Effluvians, hopping up and down.
“Use the phial when you can” Ty whispered to Chilli, referring to the glass phial they had stolen from the Crypt of all Fears.
“Don’t worry. I will” she replied, “when the time’s right.”
“Citizens of Effluvia, we shall now exercise justice” Morbidius continued. “Lieutenant Detritus, please usher our guests to their new quarters” he said mockingly, nodding towards the cage.
“Chilli! Do something! The phial!” shouted Ty, as he watched their only chance for survival slip away.
“I can’t reach Morbidius! It’s no good!” she cried.
“Enough! Let us finish this unpleasant business, now! Lieutenant, proceed!” quickly ordered Morbidius, fearing that Chilli and Ty would blow his cover. He was also eager to get the execution over with before the crowd became restless again. He could sense that the affects of his speech were already wearing off and doubts were starting to creep into the Effluvians polluted brains again.
“Yesssss, sssssire. It will be our pleassssure” answered Detritus, as he and his officer dragged the children towards the cage.
“Ow, that hurts!” complained Chilli.
Ty was frantically trying to think of a way out of their predicament. He looked around the Power Station for something that could save them. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a fast-moving shadow high above them. It leapt from one chimney stack to another, and then began to climb down a steel ladder. Oubaas! He’s found us! Ty quickly looked away from the baboon is case he drew attention to his three-legged friend.
“We’re going to be alright” Ty whispered to Chilli, as they were shoved roughly into the cage.
“No, we not! We’re going to be soup!” cried Chilli.
“Just wait, you’ll see,” Ty reassured her with a knowing grin.
“Lieutenant, begin the first phase of the execution,” Morbidius directed. Some members of the audience covered their eyes. Others put pads and feet over their ears. They didn’t want to hear the childrens’ screams when their bodies dissolved in the toxic Bottomless Pit of Despair.
Detritus grabbed the crane’s lever and gave it a turn, sending the crane’s arm holding the cage to the middle of the Pit.
“T... Ty...” sobbed a terrified Chilli. She looked down at the caustic black liquid of the Pit. It swirled and bubbled and belched out gasses that burnt her eyes. She could feel the heat as it rose up to meet them. “We’re going to die” sobbed Chilli, as her eyes started to water. Blind terror threatened to overwhelm her as the hot fumes began to seep around her body. It was going to be a slow, excruciating death.
“Don’t fall apart now” said Ty, glancing up at the chimney stack. Oubaas was almost in position. It wouldn’t be long now.
“Reeeeeelease!” Morbidius roared.
The audience gasped as Detritus slammed his claw down on the crane’s control panel. The crane’s hook snapped open, releasing the cage. It plummeted towards the Bottomless Pit of Despair.
“Tyyyyyyyy!” Chilli screamed as the Pit rushed up to meet them.
