The Debtor’s Maze

A short story for your enjoyment

note — this story was previously published on my website ianworrallauthor.com

Running through the maze I could hear the stomping of the hooves; what beast was after me? The pounding was like fifty bass drums in a marching band. The ground shook with every stomp of whatever was trying to find me. Every so often it would make me stumble to the ground.

There was nowhere to hide, when, not if it found me. It must have smelled my fear. I could hear its breath and what’s worse, I could smell it. Probably from all the other people it has eaten. It was probably preparing a very tasty meal.

Probably my one and only hope was that it thought I taste like garbage and spits me out. I could hope that, but like a condemned prisoner who always hopes the rope breaks, it’s probably a false hope.

Everywhere I go there’s bones lying around. Mostly broken in two or more pieces. All the skulls have been smashed open, fine powder of the smashed bones was sprinkled over the ground.

I had a thought that I could dig a hole in the ground and hide. Probably not, but maybe a series of smaller holes that can make the beast break its legs. Then I’ll be safe and maybe find a way out of here.

I decided that’s what I would do. I wasn’t going to go out running or on my knees begging. I found what looked like a leg bone and I began digging a six-inch-deep trench in a staggered formation. This was my only hope to give whatever it was that was after me a greater chance of the beast hitting something and getting injured.

Sticking some things in the ground to act like spikes the sudden silence of the maze began gripping me like a vice. No sound of hooves or breathing out or growls. With my stomach crawling into my throat I spun around and there the beast was standing.

Right out of myth — the minotaur. Or maybe straight out of hell.

The beast snorted and rockets of snot flew out its nose. Slobber dripped out of the corners of its mouth.

Grabbing another bone to hold in front of me, I was going out fighting, I started twirling it around. The beast opened its mouth and pulled out a small bone and then said in that echoed evil voicse from the movies, “Pinky fingers make good toothpicks.”

After it threw the pinky finger bone at me another voice came from behind me.

“I never did like the kidneys either.”

Turning around, I see another minotaur and I got my back to the hedge of the maze. I turned my head left and right looking at each of them.

“Shall we share our meal or fight for this one?” the new arrival asked.

What looked like a smirk crossed the lips of the first one, “I’m not as hungry as I was with the last one so let’s share.”

They turned to face me and with deliberate slowness to taunt me they started walking toward me. I tried swinging my weapon but one of them merely grabbed my arm and forced me to my knees.

The other one grabbed my head and looked me in the eyes and said, “The brain lives for up to thirty seconds after decapitation. The last thing you’ll see is us eating your headless body. You should have paid your bills.

And with that it ripped my head off. I could see the blood trail leading from my body as it put my head on the ground so I could see them eating me.