The world twisted, bending Zeke’s mind in all the wrong directions. Laid out before him was an endless city of crumbling buildings, all of which jutted from the ground at impossible angles. If he looked away, even for a second, everything would change. Every blink brought a different cityscape of despair, twisting his thoughts, his senses, and his stomach with its incongruency.

  Yet, as had been the case since he’d entered the Maw, Zeke had no choice but to forge ahead. He did so, his steps echoing against wet, cobblestone streets as he approached the impossible city.

  Dark clouds roiled overhead, obscuring any illumination and casting the twisted city into such impenetrable darkness that he couldn’t tell if it was day or night. However, he could still see everything well enough – a visual inconsistency that made as little sense as the impossible tilt of the buildings.

  The landscape outside the city was barren, populated only by thousands of cocoons, each as tall as a man and quivering with unrealized need. The surface was chitinous, but Zeke could not guess what they might contain.

  He got his answer as he approached the city, when one of the cocoons burst open to reveal a malnourished wretch with sunken, pleading eyes. The naked man stumbled forward, his body just as twisted as the city that loomed over them both. Bald and covered in goo, he rasped, “Help me! I did nothing wrong! I do not deserve this!”

  “Lies,” came a voice from nearby. Zeke’s turned, ready to fight. Nearby hovered another figure. Man or woman, it wasn’t clear. What was apparent was the silver mask that covered the creature’s entire face, save for twin holes for its eyes and an opening for its mouth. From the latter extended a long tongue that had split in two, twisting around itself like both sides were trying to constrict their twin.

  It continued, “You are condemned. You spent your life swimming in lies. You broke oaths. You defrauded loved ones. You were a traitor a hundred times over. You have earned every moment in the Spiral City. Begone, forsworn. Live with your shame and reap the consequences of your fraud.”

  The creature raised its hand, revealing bejeweled fingers, and flexed. A wave of energy swept past Zeke and slammed into the wretched husk of a man, sending him sprawling in the gooey remnants of his cocoon. He wailed in pain before gathering himself and staggering toward the city. The whole time, he screamed that he was innocent, that he’d done nothing wrong.

  Zeke didn’t believe it for a second.

  He turned to face the other creature. “What are you?” he demanded.

  “I am one of the hollow-tongued templars,” it said. “Tasked with restraining these wretches. Go, traveler. I have no quarrel with you.”

  “I don’t…”

  Zeke let his sentence trail off. The creature had gone unnaturally still – like a statue. For a moment, he wondered if he attacked, would it shatter like stone? Or would it bleed like a man? There was no telling.

  But it hadn’t attacked him, so he saw no reason to return that with violence.

  With that in mind, he continued along the path, the shadows of the city dancing nauseatingly with every passing moment. Every blink changed the cityscape, but Zeke tried to ignore it.

  Before him loomed a golden gate that he had not seen before. Otherwise, the city was walled and topped with more stationary masked templars. Zeke stepped through, and once again, everything changed.

  He gaped at the transformed city.

  No longer were the buildings crumbling. Instead, they shone perfect and gold, with tall spires reaching toward the sunny sky. A note of laughter reached Zeke’s ears, jerking him back to attention. He looked around, but saw no origin. In any other situation, that laughter – sounding like it must have emanated from a child – would have been comforting. But now? It sent a shiver up his spine.

  “Welcome,” came a pleasant and melodious voice. Zeke turned back to the road to see a beautiful woman. Her elaborately detailed robes were form-fitting along the torso, but the skirts were voluminous. She had a silver piercing on her cheek, and when she spoke, a similar stud glittered on her tongue. “The prodigal son returns home from his long pilgrimage.”

  “Or perhaps left,” came another voice. Zeke was suddenly aware of another woman, though where the first was brunette, this one was blonde. She tilted her head. “I seem to remember it like that.”

  The two circled him, putting him on edge. “You remember, do you not? You played with us as children. You loved us both. This is your rightful place.”

  Zeke shook his head as memories assailed his mind. Even as he saw them flash through his thoughts, he knew they were false. However, they felt so real. So perfect. He wanted them to be true, and with every fiber of his being. They were far better than any of his true memories, which felt further away by the second.

  “No,” he grunted.

  “Oh, you must have hit your head,” the blonde said, holding a bundle of clothing. She thrust them into Zeke’s hands. “Please, dress yourself. You will cause a scandal.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “I say remain naked,” smirked the brunette, her eyes slowly caressing Zeke’s nude form. “Scandal be damned. The city needs a bit more of this.”

  Against all odds, Zeke blushed. Without any resistance, he dressed, pulling on a pair of fine, wool pants and a matching shirt. The two garments fit perfectly, accentuating his strength while not sacrificing comfort. The boots the blonde handed him were similarly perfect.

  “Are you certain you don’t remember us?” the brunette asked, leaning forward eagerly. She pouted slightly. “I remember you, lover.”

  Zeke faltered.

  He did remember them both. Zora and Zara. Sisters. In his youth, they’d competed for his hand, but he’d always preferred Zara.

  “You do remember,” said Zara, pushing her brunette locks behind her ears. “I would hate to thin I left such a faint impression that you wouldn’t remember me, even after all this time.”

  But he knew those memories were false. With every passing second, though, they felt more and more real. Zeke felt his true memories being supplanted in real time.

  Then, a surge of divine energy halted the process. The two sisters disappeared, replaced by a pair of split-tongued templars. Zeke staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as those images flickered and returned to the more pleasant picture of the sisters.

  “Are you well? You do not look well? Are you sick?”

  Zeke felt his stomach churn as sweat broke out on his forehead. “I…I don’t…I need to go.”

  With that, he bulled his way past them and stumbled into the city. As he did, the shining buildings were blinding, sending piercing pain through his mind. The once-deserted metropolis now played host to thousands of people, each one going on about their happy business without a care in the world.

  One woman sang as she collected bread from a broker, while a man whistled a lively tune as he rode a cart. Another surge of divine energy banished that image, and Zeke saw that each and every person was another templar. What’s more, the cart – which had been pulled by a pair of majestic horses – was now being pulled along by a team of withered and naked men. Every passing second saw them shift and twist, agony coursing through their bodies as they contorted themselves in various positions before taking another step.

  It was grotesque and troubling, and Zeke felt his heart racing out of control as fear flowed through him.

  He stumbled into one of the buildings, but when he reached out to steady himself, his hand found no purchase. He fell, hitting a puddle of muck that he could not see. Cold wetness spread across his chest, and a putrid smell assaulted his nose.

  Zeke vomited.

  From somewhere, a voice whispered, “Nothing is certain. Time has no meaning. You are lost. There is no escape from the Spiral City.”

  Frantic, Zeke jerked his gaze this way and that, but he couldn’t find the speaker. What he did see were the two sisters hurrying in his direction. He had no interest in speaking to them again. If he did, he felt certain that he would lose…something.

  But what?

  Try as he might, he couldn’t remember what he wanted to hang onto. Instead, there was only the disembodied feeling that he needed to resist, that he couldn’t give in. He wasn’t even sure why he was so distressed.

  So, as with any animal in a stressful situation, he was faced with a choice between fight or flight. He couldn’t fight something he could neither see nor comprehend, so he ran.

  He pushed himself to his feet and scrambled away. The city flashed by in a blink. One second, he was among the golden towers, and the next, he found himself staggering through shadowy alleys and pushing aside malnourished wretches who kept telling him they could save him.

  It went back and forth for longer than Zeke could imagine. Then, just as he felt his heart was about to give out, he staggered out of an alley and found himself in the arms of one of the sisters.

  He wept, burying his face in her chest. “I don’t know what’s real…”

  “Shh,” she said. “That’s normal. Come. We will get you the help you need, you poor thing.”

  Zeke didn’t have the strength to fight against them. Nor did he know why he would even want to. He just knew that things weren’t right. Nothing was where it was supposed to be. Confirming that was the fact that, with every passing moment, flashes of another world of darkness and twisted buildings invaded his mind.

  For some time, all Zeke could remember was clutching his head and screaming for it to stop. And then, suddenly, it did.

  He found himself lying in a bed inside a room of white. There was no color in any of the furnishings. The walls were white, as were the floors and ceiling. It was bright and disconcerting, and Zeke felt himself panicking as he felt overwhelmed by the sheer whiteness of it all.

  Then, he saw a tiny flower with bright red petals. The stem rested inside a small bottle, with the flower itself sticking out of the neck. It was comforting in its color.

  Zeke stared it for a long time, his breathing gradually growing steadier as his heartbeat normalized.

  “You left us,” came an accusing voice. Zeke jerked his head up, his efforts at calming himself dashed upon the grating tone of that voice. Then he saw him.

  He was in the shape of a man, but had the features and fur of a black bear with red streaks along his head. A single horn jutted from his head, curling backward like a ram’s. Blood coated half his face, coming from a jagged wound just below his head. Zeke scrambled backward, flattening himself against the wall.

  “We needed you,” he said. “I needed you. You called me brother, and yet, you abandoned me.”

  Another figure suddenly flickered into being. She was a muscular woman with a thick braid and a slightly green tinge to her skin. She too was bloody, a gaping wound in her side exposing white ribs and pulsing organs. Fury in her voice, she growled, “You said you loved me. You abandoned me. Left me among strangers and in a world that wanted us all dead. You killed us.”

  Hundreds more figures filled the room. Some were distinct – like the pale skinned girl who looked like a waxen corpse – while others were indistinguishable. Zeke saw a dark-skinned man with tapered ears standing next to a hulking figure with thick braids. Dozens of lizard men, too.

  But even as they accused him of abandoning them, his eyes locked on a single figure. She was blonde – beautiful, even with the gash stretching from her forehead to her jaw – and carried a silvery bow.

  “You left me before any of the others. That is what you do. You are selfish. You do not care about anyone but yourself. You are a coward,” she said. “You always have been. You do not fear death. You fear intimacy. You are –”

  Just then, one of the sisters opened the door, and the visitors flickered, briefly becoming malnourished wretches before disappearing entirely.

  “Oh, he’s having another of his episodes!” shouted Zora as she rushed inside. Before Zeke knew what was happening, she had his head cradled in her arms and was rocking him back and forth. “There, there. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  Zeke ignored when she flickered back to the silver-masked monster. That wasn’t real. He knew it wasn’t. She cared about him. She wasn’t…that thing.

  He almost believed it.

  No – he would believe it, even if he had to force himself. Reality demanded it.