The Toy Castle, chapter 4
Trapdoor
By the time Snowcone came back to the main hall, Wawa had yet to return. She’d normally think he was still exploring, but after nearly being killed by doll monsters she feared the worst.
Had he been attacked just like her? Was he okay? It was these thoughts that made her enter the door Wawa had gone through. Reddy and Rusty walked alongside her, carrying one chirpy foal each, while the other three rested on Snowcone’s back. Once again the door led to a hallway, though this one contained little in terms of decor. There were some paintings, closed doors, but that was all.
She hadn’t walked for long when she saw Wawa’s sky-blue fur, but what hope the sight sparked in her chest crashed and burned in an instant. At Wawa’s hooves, pooling blood on the yellow carpet, was the crushed corpse of a tiny green foal. “Wh… wha…”
“Munstah!” squeaked Rusty and hid behind her. Wawa’s head snapped up to look at the group, watching wide-eyed as Snowcone forced herself to speak.
“Wawa… Wha-?”
“Wawa am sowwy,” Wawa interrupted, sitting down with a sad frown. “Nu was fast enuff to save babbeh.”
The failure almost hit harder than Wawa’s words. Even if she herself got hurt, Snowcone had thought that she’d be able to save all the foals, but now one of them was gone. Dead, a mother missing her child. The grief weighed on her like a stone in her gut, her body numb, and she almost didn’t notice the fact Wawa’s hooves were stained red.
It made sense. He must have nudged the foal, tried to help it. That was the only explanation she could think of.
“Wawa found anothew babbeh,” Wawa said, trying to be supportive. “But need Snowcone’s hewp to save it.”
“Wha…? Why?”
“Hewe, dis way.”
As Wawa started walking away, Snowcone was left to stare at the crushed foal. Beside her, Reddy and Rusty were cowering and crying - they had never seen a dead body before, and they shouldn’t have had to. Slowly, Snowcone started to walk, leading the foals with her tail so they wouldn’t have to linger on the corpse.
But as the numbness faded, a cold dread took its place. There was a monster on this side too. She could save the foals on her back if something happened, but not those walking alongside her.
Snowcone walked slower than Wawa, glancing around for any foals, but couldn’t see even a scrap of fur. A barely open side-door revealed another sheltered room though, a pillowy nest hidden under a multitude of clothes hanging from the ceiling, and she had Reddy and Rusty hide inside. Just for a moment, just until they had rescued the foal Wawa had found.
“Snowcone?” called Wawa from ahead, evidently having noticed her trailing behind, and she hurried to catch up.
“Hewe!” she called back. “Whewe am babbeh?”
“In hewe.” Wawa stepped through a door and Snowcone followed, finding a strange room with many trinkets and decorations. On one wall sat a plain door, while on the opposite side of the room lay a raised panel. “Wawa heaw chiwpies thwough dat doow.”
Snowcone studied the door, sniffing at it. She couldn’t hear anything herself, but … It had been some time, maybe the foal was just weaker now. She stepped aside to look at Wawa. “How can Snowcone hewp?”
“Wiww show.” Wawa stepped onto the panel, which sank to the floor as the door swung open. He then trotted off the panel and toward the open doorway, but it swung shut again before he got there. He turned to Snowcone. “See? Button opens doow, but onwy fow a moment. Even if Wawa wuns, doow wud shut wight aftew Wawa weaches it… Wud be twapped.”
Snowcone nodded slowly. It made sense. “Yu wan Snowcone tu stand on button?”
Wawa shook his head. “Nu, Snowcone am bettew with babbehs. Wawa stand on button, an’ Snowcone wook fow babbeh.”
“Otay.” Snowcone nodded again, and waited as Wawa walked back to the button. As he stepped on it and the door swung open, she stepped into the doorway and looked through.
All that lay beyond was darkness. There was a stone stairway leading down, but the lighting was so poor that she couldn’t tell how long it was. She strained her ears to listen for chirps, but there was nothing - if any foal was down there, it was quiet.
It felt dangerous, and Snowcone grew all too aware of the innocent foals on her back. She took a step backward, deciding to leave the babies with Wawa, but never got the chance - there was the sound of rapid hoof-steps, then something slammed into her and threw her forward.
As she tumbled head over heels into the dark, she saw a flash of sky blue and seafoam green in the doorway, then the door slammed shut and everything went black.
When she came to, Snowcone was lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Her right hind leg and right wing ached, her back burned like she’d been stabbed all over again, and the clammy feeling of near-dried blood was coated on and between her wings. Her head was spinning and for a little while, she just lay there.
What had happened? She’d been at the door, someone had shoved her, and then … “Babbehs …?”
Her eyes had adjusted to the dim lights, so at least she wasn’t blind. As she slowly dragged herself to a stand, however, Snowcone’s blood ran cold. Near her hooves and the bottom of the stairs lay her foals, little more than mush and fur spread along large red stains.
The gravity of what had happened struck her all at once. She had fallen down the stairs, and in the process crushed the very foals she’d tried to protect. The red foal she’d hurt herself rescuing, the yellow one she’d carried from the start, the green one she had toppled a vase to free. All dead, just like that. Because she hadn’t given them away earlier, hadn’t left them with Reddy and Rusty. So much effort and so many lives, destroyed in an instant.
She wailed, collecting the remnants and hugging them as though it could help mend their ruined bodies. She cried long and hard while cradling the dead children to her chest, and only the thought of the foal Wawa had heard could dry her tears. If she could just find that one foal, maybe not all was for naught.
But no matter how she searched the dark room, there was no foal to find. There was nothing at all, just dust and dirt, an empty concrete floor settled below a stone staircase.
A trap, Snowcone realized as she slumped to a sit, her aching leg making it difficult to walk even without her wounded back screaming each time she moved. The colors she had seen as she fell came to mind. Sky blue and seafoam green, just like Wawa.
Wawa, who had pulled out the chunk of wood stabbed into her back.
Wawa, who had carried the foals for her when she was too hurt to.
Wawa, who had stood over a dead child with bloody hooves and said he was too late.
Wawa, who had saved her life when the planks broke below her.
Wawa, who had stood behind her when she looked through that door.
Snowcone found her eyes filling with new tears. Her heart felt like it was being pulled apart - nothing made sense. Wawa had been so kind. He was so kind. He’d done so much for her and if he was the one to trap her, to cause the deaths of so many foals, then …
It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t. She just couldn’t understand; none of the pieces lined up. She needed to talk to him.
After wiping her snout and steeling herself, Snowcone slowly dragged herself up the staircase. It took time, her wounds making it difficult, but she had no choice if she wanted to escape and find Wawa. But as she reached the top, staring up at the closed door, it slowly dawned on her that it couldn’t open from this side. Nobody was standing on the button; and if nobody was on the button, there was no way out.
“H-Hewwo…?” she called weakly, her voice strangled. No answer. She tried giving the door a knock, then a push, but nothing happened and nobody answered even when she raised her voice. “Wawa? Anyone?”
She gave the door another push, then gathered all her strength and headbutted it. It did nothing but make her dizzy, and terror began to seize hold. “H-Hewp! Wawa? Anyone?!”
Nothing. Nobody! The horrible reality that she was trapped, left to starve and die in a dark pit with the corpses of her foals, dragged Snowcone into a full-on panic attack. “HEWP! PWEASE!! WAN OUT!!”
She struck at the door once, then twice, hooves thudding dully against the hard wood. “PWEASE! WEMME OUT! PWEASE!”
No, no, no! “WAWA!! PWEASE, ANYONE!! WEMME OUT!” Was it because she doubted him? Had he left her to rot for being called a monster? “AM SOWWY!! ANYONE THEWE?!”
The thuds turned to scratches, Snowcone in vain trying to dig through the door. Her eyes were overflowing with tears and yet she kept trying, screaming for anyone to help, anyone to hear her. There was nothing, no reply, and every scratch made her hooves burn a little more. She kept trying. “WEMME OUT!! ANYONE, PWEASE!!”
Her hooves began to lose friction, the door growing slick with blood. She kept trying, digging at the scores of red until it became too much and they slipped off. She fell against the door and collapsed into a heap.
It hurt, everything hurt. Her throat burned and her hooves were bleeding. Her leg and wing still ached and her back sparked with agony. And yet the door still stood, quiet and unharmed, covered in long red lines.
She cried, gasping and sobbing her heart out until she ran out of tears. Until she was too exhausted to continue. She was going to die here, trapped in an empty room and left to starve. The thought made her want to keep trying, but pain shot through her hooves when she tried to place weight on them and she found herself unable to stand.
She lay quietly, licking her hooves in an effort to stem the bleeding and wincing at the rough, torn surfaces. How had this happened? What had she done to cause this? She couldn’t understand.
“Am sowwy…” she murmured, just in case someone could hear her. “Pwease, nu wan tu die… Nu wan tu die, stiww need tu hewp babbehs…”
Help them. She had lost four, there were still four left. There were still many more she had yet to find.
She needed to escape, but … There was nothing she could do…
She didn’t know how long she’d been lying at the stairs when she finally heard something. Tiny voices, muffled by the door yet still recognizable. “Mummah? Snowcone?”
“H-Hewe!” Snowcone tried to scream, but her throat was too raw to let her. “Pwease, pwease, hewp…! Nu can get out!”
“Snowcone!” cried Reddy, close as though pressed up against the door. “What happen? How can babbehs hewp?”
“Thewe… thewe’s big button, big squawe thingy, on fwoow. Pwease, stand on button.”
There was a babble of agreement, the two talkie babies arguing amongst each other of what the button was, but after some time they managed it. The door swung open and Snowcone somehow managed to drag herself through to safety.
The light was much too harsh and before she could adjust, she felt the two foals hug onto her. They were crying in distress at all the ‘boo-boo juice’ in her fur and hooves, asking where the rest of the foals were, assuring that she’d be okay. She felt too exhausted to answer any of it.
“… Whewe Wawa?” she finally asked, her voice just a whisper.
“Nu know,” admitted Reddy. “Wawa scawy… Was wooking fow babbehs, singing pwetty songs. But babbehs scawed an’ hide…”
Looking for foals. Looking for her foals.
It was another layer of concern that Snowcone was too tired to try and understand right now. As the foals fretted over her she slumped, closing her eyes and falling asleep.
Means I did a good job.