In and Out of the Suspendrom Valley (Chapter 6)

Content Warning: Strong Language

While Orb had his share of struggles in the Empire, he could not stop thinking about the possibility of Vermon’s connection to the Suspendrom Valley, which was about to eject four long-term inhabitants.

That mythical place of which everyone on earth had heard was a silent Hell in the eastern region of the Empamalangon Kingdom.

Though obscured from sight, the valley’s gates opened under mysterious circumstances at rare intervals, swallowing the very few unfortunate souls who stumbled upon it – into oblivion, never to return to the world of the living.

Inside, the view was both beautiful and eerie: a green flat land topped with one single hill and lined with hundreds of small burial mounds arranged with precision and order before a solitary burned old bare tree.

All was silent and still. Nothing appeared ordinary and mortal. The Suspendrom Valley’s sky was loaded with thick and motionless gray clouds, which had never rained or moved since the beginning of time.

Even the lush, pointed grass, always precisely 30 centimeters high, never danced in the gentlest breeze but always leaned stiffly in one direction—toward the burnt trunk of that ancient leafless tree.

Habot, who had wandered the Empamalangon Kingdom for weeks and was heading to the Airium Province on foot, was unsure of how he ended up on the top of Suspendrom’s hill.

The last clear thought he had was of throwing his knife at a bird. After he had retrieved his prey, which was pinned to a tree by the blood-smeared knife, he blinked—and suddenly, he found himself standing atop a gloomy hill.

Not realizing where he was, his instincts warned him that he should not be there. The hill overlooked the burial mounds that stretched in orderly rows. He was facing an ancient cemetery.

“Oh, lord, I got chills, chilies, shells?” Habot wondered, “What was the word again?”

He remembered frantically descending the hill, running around, searching for signs of life—some people or animals—but found none. He did not spot a single insect nor hear its humming and buzzing.

Time did not seem to pass. He could not tell if it was night or morning. Not even the grass was moving. He felt like he was trapped inside a static scene, a lifeless painting on a wall. Yet, somehow, he always found himself back atop that hill.

“Am I trapped inside a cursed place, or is someone playing illusional tricks on me?” He groaned.

Suddenly, he noticed something moving. A figure emerged from one of the mounds, moving on all fours like a bony hyena, weakened by thirst.

A man he was. With his long, thin arms, he turned and pulled a small girl from the same dark hole he had just vacated.

“HEY!!” Habot shouted in excitement mixed with a sense of relief. “HEY! Can you hear me?!”

The man left the girl lying on her side. He straightened and turned to look in Habot’s direction in what looked like a moment of shock.

“Don’t go anywhere!” Habot called out. “I’m coming down!”

* * *

Unexpectedly, Habot could find his way to the man, among the burial mounds. He stood in front of him, staring.

Although the man wore simple, relatively tattered yellowish garments, Habot could tell they were ancient and had been preserved for ages.

“Excuse me, and good day to you, sir!” Habot maintained a distance. “What is this place?”

The man’s gaze remained fixed on Habot before he finally replied in a grave, quiet tone, “Suspendrom Valley.”

Habot had never heard of such a place, and he assumed it was ordinary enough that he could leave whenever he wished.

“Are you the only one living here?” Habot glanced around. “What are these dome-like structures?”

The man continued to watch Habot. “Burial mounds,” he replied solemnly.

“But I saw you—wait! Good heavens! Why on earth would you live inside a grave?”

“…”

“And you—you do not seem dead—,” the man’s voice was even, empty of emotions.

“Oh, you think so? Why, thank you! Of course, I don’t look dead; I am gorgeous…,” Habot undid the bandana and flicked his black wavy hair.

“Do you remember your name?” The man interrupted, seemingly uninterested in the excessive chatter and self-praise.

“Ackoleet—I mean Habot,” Habot shook his head, correcting himself. “I am Habot—from Wempamalangon Kingdom. I was on my way to Airium city but seem to have lost my way around the river.”

“Is that so …” the man conceded.

“What about you?” Habot tied his hair into a ponytail with the bandana.

“The Guardian of Suspendrom Valley.” The man pressed his hand to his chest without blinking as he spoke solemnly.

Habot studied the man, who spoke strangely, intently,  shifting his gaze between him and the small girl behind him, who remained lying on her side without moving.

Habot noticed worms as white and round as pearls wriggling from the guardian’s neck and hand that rested on his chest, and he paled.

“Wo—worms— are coming out of your body!” Habot stammered before fainting in shock.

* * *

The man remained unmoved. He lifted his hand to examine it in silent wonder but soon noticed Habot had regained consciousness and was rising to his feet.

“This coward!” Habot muttered as he wiped his hands on his sides.

“We understand that worms feeding on one’s flesh can be disturbing,” the guardian admitted.

Habot glanced at him. “Not to me!” he exclaimed.

He swiftly extended his hand and grabbed the guardian’s hand. He began plucking the worms as if picking mushrooms.

“What the fuck happened to you, man?” Habot added, seemingly undisturbed or disgusted. Instead, he looked excited, with a smile across his face.

Meanwhile, the guardian did not budge or react, even when Habot’s hand reached his neck to pick the worms. He stood watching Habot’s odd behavior, not objecting to his touching him.

“How did it feel? Was it painful?” Habot finished, gazing at the holes in the man’s flesh from which the worms came.

“It felt like peeling a scab,” the guardian replied evenly, noting the shine of rapture in Habot’s eyes.

* * *

After a moment of silence had passed, Habot asked. “What is this place?”

The man’s gaze remained fixed on Habot before he finally replied in a grave, quiet tone, “Suspendrom Valley.”

Habot had never heard of such a place, and he assumed it was ordinary enough that he could leave whenever he wished.

“Are you the only one living here?” Habot glanced around. “What are these dome-like structures?”

The man continued to watch Habot. “Burial mounds,” he replied solemnly.

“But I saw you—wait! Why the fuck would you live inside a grave?”

“…”

“And you—you do not seem dead—,” the man’s voice was even, empty of emotions.

“Fuck!!” Habot suddenly exclaimed, realizing that the questions sounded familiar. Did time repeat itself? Was he stuck in some time loop? He felt strange, but no fear crept over him, for he knew nothing about fear.

The worms emerged again from the guardian’s exposed flesh, but this time, Habot did not touch the guardian, thinking something weird would happen again.

Instead, the two men locked eyes in a tense silence that lasted long, painful minutes until Habot cursed.

“Damn it! What the Hell are you staring at? Why don’t you show me the way out of this creepy place?”

“Very well,” the guardian still stared. “We shall leave together.”

Although the man said that, Habot watched him move about slowly and patiently, helping the little girl lean against the dome wall before he went inside the mound.

The girl appeared skeletal, dirty, and marked with long white hair covering her back and face. She was probably plagued with worms, but he did not like the idea of touching those two, not because he felt disgusted but for fear of recurring strange time loops.

When the man emerged from the mound, he brought a bundle of straws. The guardian himself was a tall, skeletal figure—like the two of them were dead and had just been resurrected—yet he had a deadly aura about him. Habot could sense it but not smell any blood or decay on them.

Habot could not recall how much time had passed while watching the guardian sit cross-legged and diligently weave a basket from that straw. But the work was finally completed, and the basket, large in size and with two handles, was placed on the ground. 

The guardian did not engage in idle chatting, and Habot did not seem to understand his connection to that girl. However, he knew that the basket was intended for her and that the guardian meant to leave the valley with both of them.

“Are you taking the girl, too?” Habot asked anyway.

“We cannot ignore the needs of a woman with half a body,” the guardian replied mysteriously.

That phrase sparked confusion in Habot, who had seen the girl’s body intact and her limbs complete. What did the man mean by “half a body”? Besides, she was just a little girl.

“Not even the mentally ill could deny it,” Habot secretly thought.

The guardian placed the girl gently inside the basket and slowly hoisted it onto his back. “We grant you permission to accompany us from this moment on, Sir Habot, until you wish otherwise,” the guardian affirmed.

Habot burst into hysterical laughter. “Man, you’re messed up in the head! What’s with that kingly talk crap!” he wheezed, walking alongside the guardian, who did not mind Habot’s laughing at him.  

* * *

Habot and the man walked side by side around the valley for some time, but the view remained unchanged.

“What’s your name, your majesty?” Habot cackled at his own mockery, but the guardian remained focused ahead.

“Eridis.”

“It seems the Valley is not dead after all!” Habot noted. “We have been walking for ages but seem stuck in the same place. You think I didn’t notice us circling these graves over and over again?”

“Time is hard to measure here, Sir Habot, but we believe it has been four years,” Eridis thought.

“What?” Habot gasped in disbelief. “I just arrived at your godforsaken valley!! Four years!! What a load of crap!”

Suddenly, Eridis halted and carefully placed the basket down. He stared in silent disbelief at the little girl, who slept soundly inside.

A fairy the size of a butterfly was dancing among her white locks. Indeed, it did not belong there, but he knew what it was.

Slowly, he picked up the basket, hoisted it onto his back, and resumed walking.

“Fear not! Sir Habot! We have a guide with us, and soon we will be out of here!”

* * *

End of Chapter