A lingering sense of dread nibbled at the edge of my senses like the echo of a terrible nightmare. Stepping into the vast cavern, I shuddered. The chamber looked massive, about the size of a football field, if not larger. It curved a little, thinner at the center, and with rounded ends. Bats fluttered around the cavern, their tiny black shapes clinging to the ceiling, giving the granite roof a velvety appearance.
Massive stalagmites grew from the ground like giant spikes driven up by some subterranean beast. Their stalactite companions hung from the ceiling, stony fangs waiting to devour the unwary. Water dripped from cracks overhead, splashing down onto the cavern floor. Tiny rivulets of water zigzagged their way across the uneven floor, flowing to the center of the cavern. The small streams combined, forming a three-foot creek trickling from one end of the cave to the other.
I noticed a few torches positioned throughout the cavern, all covered with cobwebs and dust. They probably hadn’t been lit for a century, if not more. One torch rested in a holder near the entrance.
“Let’s light that thing.” Karl bent over, picked up the torch, and then produced a packet of matches.
I didn’t want to know why he carried a matchbook with him.
He handed me the torch, struck the match once, then again, bringing it to fiery life. Karl touched it to the torch, and instantly it caught, the oil-soaked rope wrapped around the end still able to burn.
Sunlight streamed in through a hole in the ceiling, the rays sparkling off coins spread across the floor. That light, mixed with the radiance from the torch, encircled us with a warm glow.
“Look at the money on the ground.” Bobby moved into the circle of light and picked up a quarter, then stared up at the hole in the ceiling. “I bet we’re under that old, dry well just off the camp grounds, you know, near the New Canal Lighthouse.”
“If that’s true, then half of this cavern must be under Lake Pontchartrain.” I stared up at the rocky ceiling, expecting it to cave in because of the tons of water overhead. The image of a title wave flooded through my head and washed away much of my courage, leaving behind only buzzing hornets and fear.
The fears are a lie, I told myself, but it did little to push aside my growing terror.
Grabbing the map from Bobby, I stared at it. “There’s a tiny mark at the far end of the cavern,” I said in a weak voice. “The skull is probably there.”
“Then let’s go find it.” Leonard followed what looked like a path along the cavern’s wall, wending its way around stalagmites eight feet tall, if not higher. Piles of stones lay strewn across the cavern floor, the debris fallen from the ceiling long ago.
I took a deep breath. The air lacked the dank, dusty taste of the tunnels and catacombs. Fresh air came in through the well piercing the high ceiling overhead, a welcome relief.
The rest of the party followed Leonard. Angry voices and hungry growls drifted into the chamber, filling the shadows with dread. The feeling of something dark and dangerous seemed to float through the cave like a dreadful mist, a failure yet to happen.
Something is waiting for me, I thought. Something terrible.
Everywhere I looked, I saw imaginary creatures hiding in the darkness, waiting with pointed claws and hungry teeth. Rylee flew high overhead, his horns painting the cavern’s walls a soft red. The light from his horns and my torch pushed back on the darkness, helping with my fear, but not much. I went through the list of adjectives again, driving the thoughts from my head.
“I think I see it.” Elisa pointed to the rocky column with her bow. “The skull . . . it’s over there.”
I turned and saw it. A midnight-black skull sat atop a stone pedestal, the dark skull’s surface reflecting the scant rays of light bouncing throughout the cave. A sense of waiting doom seemed to emanate from the polished skull.
“Let’s grab it and get out of here,” I said, my voice quivering.
I wove my way around boulders and piles of stone, heading for the granite pillar. I stepped through the chilly stream, water soaking my shoes and splashing my pants. The pedestal stood waist-high. It looked like a carved piece of granite, with seven Chakra stones embedded in the side. The green, clear, blue, and purple stones gave off faint splashes of color, each representing our failures in this conflict. I walked up to the black skull and searched the ground for traps but found none; was this skull free for the taking?
Elisa notched an arrow to her bow. The sounds of monsters grew louder. Suddenly, she reached into her shirt and pulled out her pendant. The orange Carnelian Chakra stone glowed as if lit with an internal fire. “They got another one.”
The orange stone of the pedestal came to life.
“We need to hurry.” Karl tapped his bat on the ground, Number Three making a pinging sound.
“I’ll do it.” Leonard set his hockey stick on the ground and stepped up to the pedestal. Reaching out, he grabbed the skull with both hands. Instantly, Leonard screamed and fell to his knees, his hands still grasping the carved stone. Tears streamed down Leonard’s pale face, his eyes darting about. The muscles in his neck went tense as he clenched his jaw, trying to hold in a scream.
“No . . . not that,” Leonard mumbled, then groaned. “Not my mother . . . please no.” His breathing grew rapid, his gasps for air sounding ragged and strained. “I’ll do what you say, just . . . don’t do it . . . not again, please.”
A sorrowful sob leaked from him as if he lacked the strength to do anything else. Leonard’s eyes grew wide with terror as his mouth opened into a silent scream. Finally, he collapsed to the ground and dropped the skull, the polished black stone rolling a few inches away.
Elisa rushed to his side. “Leonard, are you okay?”
Leonard wiped tears from his cheek and glanced about, looking for threats. “I’m back? Is it over? How long was I gone?” He turned to look behind him, then to the left and right again, as if confused.
“What happened?” Bobby asked.
“The Skull of Fear spoke to him,” Rylee said.
“What do you mean?” I knelt next to the football player and checked him for injuries.
“The skull knew every one of my fears. It showed them to me like nightmares, but they came to life around me all at once.” Leonard shuddered, then climbed shakily to his feet. “It felt as if I was stuck in those nightmares forever. They occurred over and over . . . one terrible thing after the next.” His voice shook. “It was the most terrifying experience of my life.”
Leonard turned away, his body still shaking. He looked as if he were broken, the echo from those terrible moments probably still reverberating through his mind.
“The Skull of Fear protects itself.” Rylee flapped his wings and rose into the air, his horns glowing bright. “It will not stop the Demon Lord. Malphas knows no fear.”
“We have to do something.” Elisa glanced at me, uncertainty in her eyes.
I should grab it, I thought. Fear is like an old friend who refuses to leave me alone. I failed at stopping the monsters from finding the other Skull Keys; I can’t let them have this one.
“I’ll grab it.” I stepped up to the pedestal.
“Cameron, no.” Elisa rushed to my side.
“If anyone here knows about fear, it’s me.” I wiped the sweat from my brow, glanced at Leonard, then turned to Elisa and lowered my voice to a whisper. “I won’t let what happened to Leonard happen to you or Bobby. You’re my best friends.” I glanced at Karl, but the baseball captain turned away.
I sighed. My heart pounded in my chest, getting faster and faster. The buzzing started up in my head; the Beast was awakening. “Here goes.”
I picked the skull up off the ground. Instantly, the buzzing in my head became a firestorm of fear. Every failure I’d ever experienced came back to me hot and jagged. I shut my eyes, trying to hide from the terror, but of course, it didn’t work.
Every bully who’d ever tormented me appeared at my side. The thrown milk cartons and mashed potato bombs in the dining hall pelted me from all sides. I was stuffed into lockers, tripped, shoved, and elbowed by every tormentor I’d ever had to face. And then they happened, again and again, an unstoppable cycle of abuse. What-ifs flooded my mind as images of that terrible demon, Malphas, appeared in the nightmares. The imaginary Demon Lord tore at my friends with razor-sharp claws, hurting them over and over again.
“Cameron . . . help us,” Nightmare-Elisa screamed.
“Make it stop,” Nightmare-Bobby shouted as Malphas tortured him.
They screamed in agony in my mind, each of them reaching out to me for help. But I couldn’t do anything; I’d let them down again. An overwhelming sense of failure washed over me, a feeling I knew all too well.
The ability to think vanished as the buzzing in my head grew even louder. My Beast was now in control. But I didn’t crumble, for this was something I’d faced every day. I was used to failure and fear. They were like old companions I could never avoid. And because I knew the face of my Beast, I could withstand the onslaught, my mind still functioning just a little . . . just enough.
I started counting by sevens. Then I listed all the animals I could think of that had fur.
The ANTs are a lie! I screamed within the nightmare.
It won’t last forever. It won’t last forever. I repeated the mantra as if it were a magical spell.
I listed the titles of every book I’d read, then ranked the Transformer movies from best to worst. Struggling to control my mind, I tried every possible way to distract myself. The Beast tried to take bites out of my courage, but I had no courage left and nothing to lose. This was just an ordinary day of torment for me. No, every day of torment all brought together. I’d survived them before, and I could survive them now.
It won’t last forever, I thought, trying to believe it. These fears are a lie . . . they’re all lies.
And then I examined these fears . . . did they even make sense?
I’m not in the dining hall—how can the bullies be picking on me? Is Malphas right in front of me? I challenged each fear, considering the most likely thing to happen around me instead of the worst-case scenario. Staring each nightmare in the face, I confronted the facts surrounding them. They made little sense. There was no pit of lava to fall into; the soccer team wasn’t going to attack me; no one was about to publicly humiliate me.
They’re a lie – but my fear still grew.
I thought about Elisa and the courage she showed throughout this terrible adventure. Maybe I can be like her, or maybe like Karl. Focusing my thoughts, I imagined myself to be them, confident and strong, the fear bouncing off them as if they wore steel armor.
The buzzing decreased a little.
Gritting my teeth, I forced the images back where they belonged, in the worry part of my brain. The logic part of my mind slowly came forward and took control. It acknowledged each fear, but instead of giving into its power, I let them fade into the background where its fiction belonged.
The buzzing grew softer as the coping strategies filled my mind, pulling my focus from the what-ifs and ANTs. My Beast screamed as its power over me faded. Its presence gradually submerged into the dark places within my soul, waiting . . . always waiting. Without warning, my Beast could burst forward again, its prison cell in my mind held shut by the finest thread. I had to be careful. Slowly, I opened my eyes and faced Elisa, my face ghostly white.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “Barely. Let’s get out of here before it’s too late.” I slowly stood, my legs wobbly, feet dumb and clumsy, the anxiety-fatigue hitting me hard.
Just then, a terrible screech filled the Cave of Soles. Malphas stepped into the chamber, followed by golems, gnomes, and floating pale-white spirits I assumed were the banshees Rylee feared so much. Next to the Demon Lord stood the vicious gremlin, Krak.
“Not him,” Rylee moaned.
The monsters blocked the only exit; we were trapped. The Demon Lord pointed across the cavern at me and screamed, “The humans have the Skull of Fear. Take that skull and let none leave this cave . . . alive.”
And then the monsters charged.