Duncan MacLeod

I wielded the knife and cut a hole in the river. We whooshed down the whirlpool and into the inky black void I knew so well. I wondered what would happen if we stayed in the void for a while. What happens, it turns out, is that we start to fall faster.

“Agnes!” Jerry was flailing in the air. Patsy was frozen, her tail between her legs, with wide open brown eyes. She whimpered softly.

I reached out the knife and cut. The void expelled us so violently, I thought we might have broken some bones. Then I remembered we didn’t have any bones.

“Is everyone okay?” I saw my conjoined buddies nod.

We looked around, trying to assess where we had landed. An inky black darkness surrounded us on all sides. There was no sky above us, and only darkness below. A red hourglass was faintly visible. Then a thousand eyes blinked.

“Who are you?”, asked the black widow spider? Why are there three of you?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“I trust you are comfortable here in my nest?”

It was rather soft but also sticky. I could use my knife to get us out of here before the spider did anything. But she didn’t seem like a spider on the hunt. Although if I learned anything on this journey, it’s that appearances can be deceiving…especially here in the fifth bardo.

“I’m Agnes. This is Jerry and Patsy. We’re dead.”