Chapter 5- Episode 15-...just hanging around...

ejaredallen (60)in #story • 6 years ago

Just hanging around...

“And who is this?” The voice sounded vague and muffled as Hercule’s head swam and his vision swam faster, trying to keep up. His head hummed and rang at the same time, it was almost in harmony, and he would’ve enjoyed the tune if it didn’t ache so much. The voice belonged to a black booted, black trousered, green-shirted, white ascotted, green-collared, strong-chinned, white mustached, grey eyed, white-haired man of some prominence. Hercules assessment of the man was from boots up rather than head down because, for some odd reason the white-haired man seemed to be standing on the ceiling…

A man next to Hercule, (who was also standing on the ceiling, but in close proximity to Hercule’s face), shoved into Hercule and caused him to sway back and forth. Tassels of Hercule’s brown hair fell up into the ceiling, and it was at that moment Hercule realized the other’s were not the one’s upside down.

Tied by his feet to the ceiling of a white room, swinging like a pendulum after the shove from the man next to him. The same man responded to the white-haired man.

“This man was found in the sanctuary hall. We’re not sure exactly how he got there,” the man said nervously, but without breaking from the mundane military report voice in which he’d been speaking. That voice always annoyed Hercule because it wasn’t natural in the least and always seemed to be mocking those with speech impediments and accents by being so linguistically perfect. “He caused a disturbance in the complex and we pursued him and detained him.”

“Detained?” Hercule objected noticing a familiar, yet upside down face. “Nutsy over there kicked me in nose. I would say that was more harassment than detainment.”

The man next to him kicked him in the side when Hercule sang back his way. Hercule grunted from the impact, but the swinging stopped for the m most part, so it was really a win anyway.

“What were you doing in the sanctuary hall?” The white-haired gentleman said in an aloof manner, addressing Hercule. Who did this man think he was?

“I was admiring the bedsheets you folks call curtains.” Hercule remarked. A shove to his side followed shortly after. Again with the swinging. “Okay, I was in a tunnel that just happened to let out in the… wherever it was you said I came from.”

“The sanctuary hall.” The white-haired gentleman finished for him. Something seemed to dawn on him then and his face grew serious. He looked at the man standing next to the upside-down Hercule. “Did you find an entrance?”

The man looked a bit squeamish and his fist clenched nervously, “we didn’t exactly look for one.” Hercule thought it was nice that his last words were at least truthful ones. The white-haired man looked like he’d kill the other.

“Wait-, I might be able to help there.” Hercule spoke up, interrupting an awkwardly heated stare between the two. “You see, that entry way is very difficult to find. In fact, I designed it myself!” Voices in Hercule’s head desperately tried to tell him to hush, but by this time his mouth was already open and words were coming out too fast to stop them. “It’s not this idiot’s fault he just missed it. That could’ve happened to any idiot.” The man beside Hercule scowled. “That’s why it’s called a secret entrance, you see.”

The white-haired man raised an eyebrow strangely at the insane man.

“Clearly he’s lost his mind. He was waving like a lunatic when we caught him. Let’s just lock him up, sir.” The man next to Hercule half pleaded, wishing to bury the insulting intruder somewhere dark for a very long time.

“No, I don’t think so, Justain” The white-haired man seemed to ponder each word as he said it and it effected his deliver a bit. “There may be some truth hidden in his words. At the least I think you should take him up to the sanctuary hall and have him show you where this supposed secret entrance is.” The order was given rather informally. In fact the longer these people talked, the less severe and formal they seemed. Hercule guessed, and hoped he was correct. That this tough guy act was a front to make him think they were men to be feared. The bald lot of them probably couldn’t hurt a fly if they wanted to. Didn’t these people take oaths against violence? And why did this man have hair, wasn’t that against policy?

Too many questions. Hercule knew action was more fitting in this instance and the longer he could keep these men talking, the better his chances of escape were.

“You know what you ought to do?” Hercule baited, the pair turned to hear his suggestion. Yeah, these were pros alright. Hercule’s sarcastic personality was running rampant in his head with snide comments, but Hercule refused to give him control or else he really would be in trouble. “…i”m sorry-, all this being upside-down has addled my mind, I can’t remember what I was about to say, but I know it was important…”

The two looked at each other, seeming to debate without words if it was safe to cut the man down. The white-haired man made the call and Justain set to work at sawing the ropes with an old knife. That was all Hercule needed to know. These men were unskilled and for the most part, unarmed… then again, he was unarmed himself. And even against combat illiterate monks, he didn’t stand a chance against their numbers. In hand-to-hand combat. They had many more hands than him, that wouldn’t be the least bit fair.

Justain finished the sawing and Hecule fell to the floor hard on his shoulder with a hard thud.

“That felt wonderful…” Hercule’s sarcastic voice said under his breath.

“Really? Let’s ask them if we can do it again, shall we?” Another voice remarked in a harsh whisper.

“Shut up, both of you.” Hercule hissed back at himself.

“What was that?” The white-haired man asked, overhearing the whispers.

“Oh, nothing.” Hercule replied with a forced smile as he groaned, craning his neck to look up at the man. “Justain, could you give me a hand sitting up?” Hercule asked in a voice that was more of a command. Justain grumbled, but grabbed Hercule by the shoulders and sat him up. “Thank you my good man. Now, what I was going to say about my idea was that you should probably not trust me, as I am an intruder. Yes, you probably shouldn’t trust me at all. So what I would do is send a group of men up there to look for the secret entrance while you two keep a watch on me here.” Hercule crossed his fingers and clenched his teeth, it was a mad suggestion, but these men might just be dumb enough to go with it.

The white-haired man seemed to think about it for a moment or two and Hercule positioned himself to stand up with the help of a wall. Justain had been watching Hercule like a mother hen, but turned his attention to the other gentleman now.

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Justain sounded incredulous that they would even think about taking a suggestion from an intruder and probably thief. His negative opinion of Hercule grew by the second.

“I agree with that one,” Hercule’s sarcastic voice said aloud before he could stop it. “I am, after all an intruder and not to be trusted. How can you trust anything I say?”

“What? Including that?” Justain asked, puzzled.

“Well of course, I did just say it. You can’t even trust that you can’t trust me. That’s how untrustworthy I am.” Hercule’s eyes took on a wild light as he reveled in the insanity and confusion of the moment.

This last statement had both men perplexed and they stared blankly ahead, as if their minds couldn’t handle the paradox of the thought. And they called themselves spiritual and mental superiors… what a joke. Hercule figured the time was ripe enough and jumped over his arms to bring them from behind his back to directly in front of him. His wrist were tied together, but that didn’t stop him from lunging at Justain and knocking him. The knife Justain had been holding fell to the floor and Hercule picked it up in his hands. All at once, every man in the room raised their hands and back away frightened.

“Wait, that was it.” Hercule’s sarcastic voice was incredulous. “That’s all you’ve got. Just give the man a knife and it’s game over? How disappointing…” He paused and huffed, lowering the knife a bit, the men relaxed.

Hercule jerked the knife back up again and their arms shot up in the air like the ears of a mutt who hears a clatter in an alley. Hercule looked so disappointed. His maniacal personalities had wished for something more exciting. Oh, well.

“Everyone against the wall and turn around. I can’t even look at you.” Hercule said with disgust. The men obeyed instantly, as if they couldn’t do it fast enough. Was this really what religious people were like? Tough against crime, but at the first sign of trouble they turn tail. Where was that supernatural power they boasted of? These men who lived above the halls of a dragon believed it a fairy tale and their god the truth… they were wrong. They didn’t believe in god, they invented him, at least their version of him.

Like all things made by man, he was weak and powerless. Their god was the way they wanted him to be, the way that made them feel good and useful, maybe even important. But where was this god when they needed him? Where was their confidence in the power they prayed for. It was all a charade… Hercule shook his head and walked out of the room, down the halls, through the courtyard, and out of the gate of the complex. The men cowering from him in fear as he held real power: steel.

Thanks for reading episode 15!

"Oh, we're halfway there", and cue the music and balloons! Guys, I goofed. We've been in Chapter 5 for two days now and I kept titling it Chapter 4. My bad. Tomorrow starts chapter 6 and the second half of this tale so stay tuned. Upvote, share, comment, all that jazz:) You're epic my dudes.