The hallways smelled of sewage and rot. The walls weren't comprised of flashing luminescent signs and symbols but of oxidizing sheet metal. Rusty chains hung from the rafters like streamers at a gothic birthday party. Bare light bulbs dangled from the ceiling, winking on and off periodically like eyes readying themselves for sleep. Dark, shadowy creatures with bodies like quicksilver chattered from unseen places, speaking in languages that had been dead for thousands of years. The hallways were filled with screaming; agony, not guilt, was now the currency of the realm, and this was a place of wealth.

Clouds of mosquitoes drifted from one pa.s.sageway to the other, looking for fresh blood to dine on. Even the flies that swarmed around Asterion's head were agitated by them. He waved them away and surveyed his new home, noting every ounce of pain that was infused into this place. This was what it must feel like to mainline pure, uncut misery.

Imps with stilettos for teeth worked tirelessly on new and more gruesome facets of the maze. One coated blowgun darts with poison it extracted from the back of a small red frog. Another dug holes in the ground; newly sharpened stakes would be buried there, waiting for some unsuspecting victim to fall in. Some of the other imps hauled in torture devices that were in perfect working order from frequent use. Iron maidens. Cat's claws. Whips. Thumbscrews. Guillotines. Judas cradles. Beds of nails. Dunking tubs.

It looked like they were preparing for a witch trial, but, Asterion thought any self-respecting witch would be frightened of a place like this.

Asterion himself was even a little bit afraid. This maze was darker than any he'd ever inhabited before, even the one Daedalus had constructed so many centuries earlier. The bleak landscape had as much to do with the new Architect as it did with him.

The trials and tribulations in this labyrinth would be more vicious, more gut-wrenching, and involve more pain and blood than any Asterion had ever partic.i.p.ated in before. Even the imps chattered nervously to themselves as they constructed new and terrifying perversities that would haunt this place. They weren't used to this level of sadness and anguish either.

Some of the labyrinths allowed random rays of light in here and there. Some, like the one Jamie had constructed, had an inner source of illumination that suggested reasons for hope and prayer. In this one, the darkness swallowed light whole. It was like a black hole in the shape of a maze.

Unlike most of the traps, which were largely empty and desolate and devoid of life, this one was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with arch demons. The hallways were full of their sulfurous smoke and their black laughter. The shadows created by their outstretched wings were enough to snuff even the most resolute flame. The air was alive with the scratching of their claws on cement and the clicking of talons sc.r.a.ping up and down the sheet metal walls. They waited, just like Asterion.

Asterion spoke aloud to calm his nerves. "We've got our work cut out for us with this one, don't we?"

The voice of the maze sighed. "You don't know the half of it."

Chapter 36.

Seeing the pool of blood was enough to make me panic, and I nearly charged through the sliding gla.s.s door right then and there. Knowing what I know now, that might have gotten everyone killed.

Thankfully, I waited just a fraction of a second longer and strained my neck to see where the blood was coming from. The moment I saw Carl Beckett lying there on the floor, bound with telephone wire, was the moment he saw me. His eyes went wide and so did mine. I wasn't sure what Darrell Gene had done to him, but it didn't look good. Carl had lost a lot of blood.

He rocked back and forth, making imprints of himself in the coagulating puddle. He was trying to get free. I weighed the risk of trying to help him versus the risk of leaving him and going after my family instead. I didn't know how badly he was hurt and reasoned that he might not be much help to me. On the other hand, I knew that Darrell Gene was a formidable opponent and a much bigger man than I was. Two against one would provide better odds. Yet, somehow, I suspected that Carl wouldn't remain on his feet long after standing up---if he was even able to do that.

I decided to leave him for the moment.

"Get away from me!" Amy screamed from the living room, followed by the sharp report of an open-handed slap. I heard Amy weeping, Peter screaming and Judith praying to G.o.d from the other room. I knew I had to hurry.

I ran to the garage, looking for something to use as a weapon. On instinct, I picked up the sledgehammer because it seemed strangely fitting somehow- having wielded one recently, it felt right in my hands. I would have actually preferred a gun of some sort, but Amy never felt comfortable with me owning one. I suspected she would change her tune once this was all over with.

Looking back now, what I did next seemed strangely illogical. But, after all I'd been through in the maze, the illogical was starting to feel like second nature to me. The only way I'd been able to escape the dangers of the labyrinth was to fall to my knees and pray. I had trusted in G.o.d and He had delivered me. I was going to trust Him again in this case.

My prayer was short but heartfelt. I asked Him to give me strength, to protect my loved ones inside that house, to triumph over my enemy. Then, armed with the sledgehammer and the conviction of my beliefs, I slid the gla.s.s door open and stepped inside the house.

"Aren't we all just one big happy family?" Darrell Gene spoke from the other room.

"You're psychotic!" Amy wept with each word.

"You'll grow to love me in time."

Carl watched me with wide eyes as I stepped over him. He grunted softly, trying to draw my attention. I knelt to untie the knots that bound him, then I saw the cell phone sticking out of his pants pocket. It gave me an idea.

"Trust me," I whispered. He nodded weakly. I had no idea that the phones hadn't been working up until this point. I didn't realize that The Piper had seized control of all electronics and was using them to speak to his servant. Somehow, I think I would have tried to place a call anyway. I had seen and experienced too much not to believe that my prayers would work. I quickly dialed Carl's number and stepped into the shadows.

Miraculously, his phone rang, sounding like an alarm clock bell. The shrill noise traveled through the house, and it wasn't long before I heard footsteps approaching. I readied myself to swing the sledgehammer and waited for just the right moment. Darrell Gene walked toward Carl with a look of agitation on his face. That looked turned to surprise and even terror when he realized that he had stepped into a trap.

I swung the sledgehammer as hard as I could, but Darrell Gene was deceptively fast. He raised his forearm and deflected the blow. I heard something snap in his hand as he stopped my attack, and even as he defended himself, his other hand lashed out with the knife. I felt something rip across my abdomen. I didn't know how deeply I'd been slashed, but I felt warm blood trickling down my stomach.

The thought of being attacked in my own home filled me with a sense of righteous anger that fueled my second offensive. I charged at Darrell Gene with the sledgehammer held out in front of me. The handle caught him under the chin; I pushed until he hit the wall and then I pushed some more, enjoying the way his face turned red as I cut off his oxygen supply.

I exerted all the force I could muster, hoping to make him pa.s.s out. However, Darrell Gene knew a thing or two about fights. Before he ran out of oxygen, he kneed me in the bread basket. I sucked wind and tried to stay on my feet.

Darrell Gene charged at me like an outraged bull, still holding on to the sledgehammer. I fell onto my back, and he fell on top of me. He managed to get the handle against my throat and put all of his weight on me. The handle pressed into my windpipe, cutting off my air. I gasped and struggled and flailed and thrashed, but Darrell Gene was too heavy for me to budge. As everything started to go black around me, I thought it was a shame that I'd endured all of the trials and tribulations of the maze only to die like this.

My regret quickly became surprise; Darrell Gene's eyes bugged out in panic as Carl slipped up behind him and choked him with a strand of telephone wire. The big man flopped like a fish out of water, but Carl didn't loosen his grip.

I seized the moment- and the knife from Darrell Gene's hand- and stabbed him in the shoulder. I had aimed for the gut, but he was flailing too violently to give me a stationary target. The big man howled as I buried the blade in his flesh.

As I struggled to regain my breath, I noticed that Amy had been the one to cut Carl loose. She started toward me but I waved her away. I didn't want her getting hurt in the fracas.

Carl didn't let go of the telephone wire until Darrell Gene pa.s.sed out. Seeing the big man's strength go was like watching the water leech out of the hull of a capsized ship. Once the blood supply to his brain was cut off, he didn't merely fall- he crashed to the ground so hard he rattled all of Amy's fine china in the kitchen. Satisfied that the danger had pa.s.sed, Carl pa.s.sed out right beside him.

"Call 911!" I tied Darrell Gene's hands and feet. The last thing I wanted to do was to fight this behemoth again. Truth be told, I was tired of fighting all my enemies, regardless of the faces they chose to wear.

Once I was sure he wasn't going anywhere, I took a long, hard look at Amy and began to cry. "Are you okay?" It seemed surreal that I had finally made it back to her.

"I am now." She couldn't stop weeping either.

The two of us held each other for the longest time, interrupted only by the sound of Judith clearing her throat.

"I've got a little man that's been missing his daddy."

Sobbing like a baby now, I grabbed Peter and hugged him tightly to me, loving the way his hands explored my hair and his soft lips brushed against my stubbled cheek.

"I guess I've got a lot of explaining to do."

"It can wait." Amy gingerly touched the wound on my head. "I know what Darrell Gene did. Whatever he wasn't responsible for, we can talk about later. For now, I want to enjoy my family again."

"I can live with that." I pulled Judith into the group hug.

"Praise G.o.d!"

I couldn't have said it any better.

Although I was completely focused on my family, I couldn't help noticing the way Darrell Gene's blood pooled beneath him. It reminded me of what had happened at Karen's apartment complex after I'd been shot. I looked at that maroon puddle and gasped to see the reflection of a new maze materialize. It was much darker and more menacing than mine had been, but it was a labyrinth nonetheless.

I wondered if Darrell Gene realized what had happened to him yet.

If not, I knew it wouldn't take long.

Asterion would find him.

What happened after that was up to him.

Chapter 37.

When Darrell Gene woke up, he wasn't bleeding out in the Burroughs' living room. He was somewhere else; in a place that was dark and creepy and full of devious laughter. It was a place made up of hallways that twisted and turned. It smelled like sickness and disease and the faintest hint of sulfur.

He didn't know what had happened or how he got here, but the voices in his head weren't just in his head anymore. He heard them whispering at the end of the corridor. They were here with him in the flesh.

Darrell Gene trembled with fear and turned to run when he inadvertently kicked something with his foot.

He looked down to see a gla.s.s bottle with a note inside.

Frantically, Darrell Gene pulled the note out and strained to read it in the dark.

"This is a maze of disgrace. You are trapped here until you figure a way out. There is a minotaur loose in these hallways who would like nothing more than to feast on your transgressions. There are worse things than the minotaur. This is your own personal journey. Make the most of it."

Darrell Gene read the note a second and a third time, trying to make sense out of it all.

He didn't get a chance to read the note a fourth time.

He was interrupted by the clop-clop-clop of hooves on cement. Something was coming.

"h.e.l.lo." A deep voice thundered from the other end of the hallway. "I've been expecting you."

"No!" Darrell Gene turned and ran.

Chapter 38.

It's been six months since I left the maze, and I've tried to go back to a normal life. I've done my best to mend my relationship with Amy and be more of a father to Peter. I've tried to adapt my behavior based on the things I learned inside the maze. Thankfully, my life reflects the changes, and I've rediscovered the ability to hope again. That, in itself, is a step in the right direction, but everything isn't sunshine and roses.

I've tried to convince myself that the worst is behind me. I tell myself that I escaped from that maze for a reason, and that better days are ahead. The dreams argue against that. They tell me I'm not through with the maze; not by a long shot.

At night, while Amy and Peter sleep peacefully, I dream of dark hallways, of new and inventive traps, of Darrell Gene wandering the same corridors as me. I also dream of revenge.

Although it's not a Christian virtue, I want to make that man pay for what he did to my family. I also find myself praying for him more and more. It's strange that such feelings can coexist, and yet they do. I know he needs G.o.d in his life just like everyone else, but that doesn't keep me from hating the torments he inflicted on me and those I love.

Somehow, based on the content of my dreams, I suspect that I'll see Darrell Gene Rankin again. Face to face.

Fittingly enough, when we meet in my dreams, we meet in the shadow-filled corridors of a maze. That's enough to convince me that I'll see the inside of one again.

I don't know how I'll reenter the labyrinth, and I don't know when. I don't even know what I'll be expected to do once I get there. But, I've learned enough from my strange experiences to know that I shouldn't always discount things that seem impossible at first mention.

The maze, after all, is real enough. But so is my fear.

Until I find myself stumbling in darkness again, all I can do is meditate on the things I learned and pray for G.o.d's guidance.

I only hope my faith is strong enough.

I pray that it will be.

end.