A Tale of Two Tunnels

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

Polk stopped his gloomy trek down the tunnel and turned back to face his friends. Looking from misfit to misfit, his eyes finally landed on the inquisitive, injured triple A battery, who was slowly leaking potassium hydroxide out of its negative terminal.

“I know you’re afraid. I am too. Before I was lost to the wilds of the Dark Space, I was sure that my sole purpose in life was to bring happiness to Ellie, and all other dogs that got to play with me. Being down here made me realize something. Even though we were each created to fulfill a specific human intention, our ability to exist allows us the capabilities to become something more,” Polk paused, then extended his arm to point down the tunnel, “There is only one way home, my friend. And I have chosen to become the compass that will lead you there. Believe in me. But trust in us.”

The battery’s nerves settled and the metallic jittering finally fell silent.

“Now,” Polk continued, “Let’s see if we can help stop that leak.”

With most of the other socks fairly intact, I volunteered myself to aid the battery. Considering I had a pile of loose strands slithering in a green and white wave behind me.

“I think a few of these may do the trick,” I said, “Use that sharp stone beside your foot to cut a few of these strands off. The green ones are thicker, we’ll use those. We can wrap them around the terminal to patch the leak, then knot it higher up to keep the fabric in place.”

Quickly working together, Polk and I removed as many loose strands as we needed and patched up the battery. Considering how loose the strands were, it caused me no pain to remove them.

“How much further?” I asked.

Polk gave the battery a cheerful pat to its positive terminal, then turned back to face the darkness. “We’re almost at the end. Although, just around the next bend the chamber splits into two separate tunnels. We want to stick to the right.”

“Where does the left tunnel go?”

“I don’t know. It was too dark to see, and I only had enough time to explore one tunnel. Keep everyone together back there, Lucky. The bend up ahead gets narrow and there are sharp breaks in the ground. Its quite treacherous. Pass along the word for everyone to watch where they step. And if anyone finds themselves stuck in a gap, when they get to the fork, stay to the right.”

Polk resumed command at the head of the column and led the procession further into the tunnel. I fell back in line, passing along the information to all who didn’t hear Polk’s warning about the path. Positioned in the middle of the narrow procession, if I tried to wiggle myself to the rear, I would only slow everyone down so I had to verbally pass along the instructions. Luckily, Murphy was protecting our backs as the last sock in the line so I knew he’d keep everyone at the rear safe and on the right track. I had to trust us, and I needed to trust him.

After a few more moments of careful stepping, it was finally my turn to face the forking tunnels. I tried to peer down the tunnel which branched off left, but it was impossible to penetrate the pitch black. Yet at that level of darkness, your eyes begin to play tricks with you. Shapes which don’t belong in our reality twist, slither, and emerge from the onyx depths, pulling you in.

Thankfully, the battle-hardened battery which was wrapped in a band-aid my own fibers recognized my wandering eyes and was able to course correct me before the grasping tendrils of darkness got their chance to insert their hooks.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to shake away the haze.

“Trust in us,” The battery responded, “We’re getting out of here together. All of us.”

He put a lot of emphasis on that second part. And he was right. The only way we were all going to get out of the Dark Space was to do it together. I could not afford to wander off and risk their lives in the foolish pursuit of saving my own.

“You go on ahead,” I said to the battery, I will stay here and guard the fork. It's bewitching and terrifyingly formidable. If any of us is to stare into its depths for too long, we would surely become its victim.”

The battery shivered in fear from my prediction so he felt no need to argue.

“You should close that gap,” I said urgently, “Always keep Polk’s light within sight. The veil shouldn’t be much further, and the tunnel has no more surprise intersections. Catch up and stay close.”

Heeding my suggestions, the battery continued on with haste. As he drifted from view, the next pair of misfits rounded the corner and stared down the forks. The buttons were white, yet had each faded into a dusty brown from being severely weathered from their time as prisoners.

“Keep to the right, my friends. And follow the glow of the light. It’s just a little bit further now.”

The buttons remained silent, and terribly afraid of the slinking shadows dancing within the tunnel to their left. Yet, they remained devoted to each other and stepped into the path of the dim light.

With another pair safely through the fork, the next group of travelers quickly made their arrival. Two crew socks and one ankle sock who were all too worn to truly identify stood side-by-side while Chester carried a fourth crew sock on his back.

“Everything okay?” Chester asked in his high-pitched voice.

“Just making sure everyone stays on the right path. Stay right, and follow Polk’s light. The veil is close. We will be out of here soon.”

Noticing the injured sock on the mouse’s back, I stepped closer to check on its vitals.

“He’s lost a lot of fibers,” Chester said, “The spiders tore some pretty awful holes in him.”

“He needs the light,” I said, “He needs Derrick. Maybe he can knit him back to life. Derrick’s done it before.”

A loud screech suddenly erupted around us, reverberating off of the walls around us. Chester and I looked around to see what could have made that sound, but there was nothing, or no one. The three other socks were already down the tunnel and the rest of the group hadn’t reached the fork. So who screamed. And why?

As I was about to hustle down the tunnel to ask the three socks that had just passed through if they knew who, or what made that scream but before I entered the dim shaft, the two dirty buttons re-emerged with frightened looks on their faces.

Not seeing who I was expecting, I questioned the buttons on the commotion, “Do you know what made that sound?”

“No,” the slightly less dirty button responded, “Polk halted the procession. We came back to check if you knew.”

A warm coldness crept through my fibers at the awkward revelation as I asked a question I already knew the answer to, “Did three socks make it to you after you had both passed through the tunnel? Two crew and one ankle?”

Both buttons looked at each other in a negative agreement, unaware of the sizzling aura emanating from the left tunnel, then answered together at the same time, “No.”