Red sand hisses as it collapses around your boots. Sheer, black rock cuts up in scattered slabs. A thick, white haze holds the sky and hovers above the water. The sun is hidden.
Down the slope you go, until you reach the edge, where red sand runs down into red water. Half-clear, you can see a few paces into its depths, but no further. With a gloved hand, you extend one finger to disturb its glass surface. A ripple casts out from where you touch it. It travels outwards, disappearing into the haze and towards the occluded shore beyond.
You wait. It’s not cold here, not warm either. The things that made this place wouldn’t consider such things. A mimicry of your world and a poor one at that. If the intention was to lure people in, they have failed. What they have shown is their vast and terrifying indifference.
In anything other than the absolute silence that reigns here, you wouldn’t have heard the tiny chime from somewhere across the water. You watch as a ripple returns across the water, towards you. It makes a tiny landfall at your feet, its gossamer wave wetting a single line of red grains.
They have accepted your offer. You take a breath to steady yourself, although breathing isn’t necessary here. Some habits are harder to break than others.
So, like for like. Chaos is set in motion. You set off back up the shallow slope. They will upend the glacial order that has frozen your world into regression. You can only hope now that what you have unleashed will leave some part of it unburned.
Paddy Dobson
6th October 2020