Pool of Shit & Consiousness.

The Shit-Pit

Grimwraith Mire,

Critic-Ishire.

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Helena, her limbs trembling with exhaustion, staggered toward a shadowy corner of the dark pit. Every step felt like a monumental effort, her legs heavy and unsteady, her entire body on the verge of collapse. She leaned against the wall for support, her hand brushing the rough, damp stone, and to her shock, it shifted slightly beneath her touch.

Her heart skipped a beat. The flicker of hope in her chest was weak, but it was hope nonetheless. "Lydia," she whispered, her voice hoarse and weak.

Lydia, her mind consumed with the looming threat of the troll and the deafening thud of its footsteps, turned towards her sister's voice. Her chest tightened with fear as the heavy footfalls drew nearer. "What is it?" she asked, her voice taut with urgency as she rushed over, her dress dragging through the muck, the fabric now thick with filth.

"I think there is a stone blocking our path," Helena said, her words trembling with both exhaustion and the faintest glimmer of discovery.

Without a second thought, Lydia pressed her hands against the cold, slick surface of the wall. "By all that is unholy," she muttered under her breath, "we are trapped in a troll's latrine."

Helena gave her a quick, half-disgusted glance but said nothing. They both knew it to be true, no matter how foul it was. The stench of decay and waste clung to their clothes, their skin, filling the air so thickly it made them both gag. But the horrifying reality was clear: this was their only chance of escape.

"If we do not find a way out soon," Helena murmured, her voice barely audible as the foul air caught in her throat, "the troll will return and—" she hesitated before finishing her sentence, "we shall suffocate in its filth." Lydia's eyes widened, her disgust turning to fear.

The thought spurred them into action. They pushed at the stone with every ounce of strength they had left, their hands slipping on the slimy surface, their muscles burning with the effort. The troll's footsteps grew louder, the ground trembling beneath them with every thudding step. Time was running out.

Their fingers bled from the effort, raw and slick with grime, but the stone was starting to move—just barely. Helena's heart raced as the pressure mounted. Desperation fueled her magic, and with a scream born of terror and frustration, a burst of energy exploded from her hands. The stone shifted, finally giving way under their combined strength.

With a cry of relief, the stone tumbled forward, dragging Lydia and Helena along with it. They fell out into the blinding light of day, collapsing into the muck just beyond the pit. The noon sun seared their eyes after the long hours spent in darkness, the sudden brightness almost painful.

But their moment of relief was short-lived. The ground beneath them gave way once more, and with a sickening lurch, they plummeted into a foul-smelling body of water. The surface of the water was thick with sludge, a pungent mixture of dirt, decay, and whatever filth had drained from the pit. Lydia's once-beautiful gown billowed out around her, heavy with mud, dragging her deeper as she struggled to keep her head above water.

She gasped as the cold, slimy water closed over her head. Panic surged through her as she fought to surface, sputtering and coughing as she broke free of the sludge. Her hair, once elegantly styled, clung to her face in filthy strands, the foul water stinging her eyes. Helena surfaced beside her, equally disoriented, her pale face smeared with dirt and fear.

They had escaped the troll, but as they looked around, taking in the polluted water and the grim landscape, they realized their ordeal was far from over. The filthy pit had only been one nightmare. Now, they faced another.

Lydia's heart skipped as she glanced at Helena just in time to see her eyes roll back in her head. "Helena!" she gasped, her voice breaking with fear. She lunged forward, grabbing her sister's arm, her hands shaking as she tried to pull her through the thick, polluted water.

Helena's face was deathly pale, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to stay conscious. Lydia, despite the weight of her own soaked and muddied dress, refused to let go. She kicked and clawed through the water, dragging Helena along with her. Every stroke felt like an eternity, the foul-smelling water clinging to their skin, their dresses heavy like chains pulling them down.

The shore finally came into view, a dim line through the haze of pollution. Lydia gritted her teeth, her body screaming in exhaustion as she pulled Helena toward the muddy bank. With one last, desperate heave, she dragged them both onto the ground, collapsing in a heap beside her sister.

They lay there, gasping for air, the cool earth beneath them a blessed relief after the suffocating water. Lydia's chest heaved with effort, her body trembling uncontrollably, but she refused to rest. "We must move," she panted, her voice barely audible. "We must keep going."

Helena groaned softly, her eyes half-closed, her body limp. Lydia knew she was running on pure willpower now. There was no energy left in her. But they couldn't stop. The trolls might still be on their trail, and the scallywags—they would never stop hunting them.

With trembling hands, Lydia helped Helena to her feet. Together, they stumbled forward, their legs heavy and unsteady beneath them. Their dresses clung to their bodies, soaked through with water and mud, the fabric dragging behind them like the weight of all their suffering.

The forest loomed around them, dark and forbidding, the tall trees blocking out the sun. Every shadow felt like a threat, every sound a sign of pursuit. Lydia's heart pounded in her chest as they stumbled through the underbrush, every step a battle against the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm them.

"We are almost out," Lydia muttered, more to herself than to Helena. She didn't know if it was true, but she needed to believe it. They had to keep moving. They couldn't stop.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trudging through the muck and mire, they stumbled upon the edge of a clear, fast-moving river. The water glistened under the fading light of the afternoon, and for the first time since they had fallen into the pit, Lydia felt a small flicker of hope.

Without thinking, she released Helena and plunged into the river, the cold water a shock to her system. She gasped as the chill hit her, but the sensation was a welcome relief after the suffocating filth of the troll's latrine. She scrubbed at her skin, her fingers raw and red, desperate to wash away the dirt and grime that clung to her.

Helena hesitated on the bank, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. She knew they shouldn't linger, not with nightfall fast approaching, but the pull of the clean water was too strong. With a weary sigh, she stepped into the river, letting the cold water wash over her.

Together, they scrubbed at their skin and clothes, the water turning murky as the filth floated away. For a few brief moments, they allowed themselves to feel clean again, to let the cold water wash away not just the physical grime but the weight of the fear and exhaustion that had weighed them down.

But Lydia knew Helena was right, they couldn't stay. "Helena," she said softly, her voice rough with exhaustion. "We must go. We cannot stay here. It will be dark soon."

Helena glanced up at her, her eyes dull with fatigue. "But where shall we go?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lydia took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to think. "We follow the river," she said finally. "It must lead somewhere—somewhere we can find help."

Helena nodded weakly, and together they climbed out of the river, their clothes still clinging to them, wet and cold. The forest loomed around them like a living thing, the trees casting long shadows in the fading light. But Lydia steeled herself, taking her sister's hand. They would keep moving. They had to. There was no other choice.

And so, they stumbled forward, following the river into the growing darkness, their hearts heavy but their will to survive stronger than ever.