[Trade] Flickering Lights

Eschaton drew the heavy, musty air into his nostrils. The male instinctively wrinkled his nose, feeling his olfactory cells being assaulted by the unpleasant stench. Though he had smelled it thousands of times, he had never grown accustomed to it – this static, heavy air, without even the slightest breeze, had held his lungs in a brutal grip ever since the day he hatched from his egg. Eschaton had been stuck in Alpha Labs since the beginning of his monotonous life. He had never been able to feel the fresh, invigorating air that filled the outside world. The male didn’t even know that such a thing as the outside world existed at all.

Despite the depressing atmosphere in the bunker, this stimulus-poor environment suited Eschaton. The male was exceptionally quiet and withdrawn, so he would not have been able to find his feet in a rich, vibrant and colourful world. The juvenile even avoided other members of his species whenever he could.

This time, however, the male sensed he was not entirely alone here. Usually, other acrocanthosaurus, frightened by his appearance, kept their distance and allowed him to exist in peace in the small, cluttered room that Eschaton considered his home. Dinosaurs of other species rarely ventured as far as Level C, so they were not a problem either. A few days ago, however, something had changed – something that filled the volcanic male with unease.

It began innocently enough – the twilight of the laboratories was occasionally interrupted by a sudden red or green flash. Just a simple malfunction of the lights, most of which had been dormant for years, to the extent that most of the dinosaurs living here had never seen them switched on before. The first few such incidents caused sudden panic, but the inhabitants of Alpha Labs quickly went through a process of habituation, learning to ignore these mysterious lights.

Then came the sounds. Strange, sounding exceptionally odd and artificial, sounds that could not be explained in any way either. Sometimes they were accompanied by sudden crackles of jumping sparks, signalling a short circuit in the electrical wiring running beneath the ceiling and along the dark, cracked walls.

Finally, the smells arrived, though Eschaton, situated on almost the lowest level, could not have known this. The complex ventilation system, which for years had supplied filtered, sterile air deep into the bunker, must also have failed. Now it was distributing air drawn straight from the outside world, full of its mysterious odours, often mixed with an even more enigmatic, strong smell of burning. Before the air reached Level C, however, it mixed with the contents of the laboratories to such an extent that only the typical, suffocating stench of mustiness reached the juvenile male’s nostrils.

Eschaton subconsciously sensed that these sudden changes signalled danger, yet he had absolutely no idea what he could do to ensure his own safety. So he decided to do what he had always done before, in any situation that filled him with anxiety – seeking peace and stability, he hid in his storeroom, crammed with all manner of objects, curling up in the corner of the room. He intended to wait out the danger in his solitary retreat.

Not everyone, however, adopted similar strategies. Some were more proactive, hoping that their determined, often haphazard and utterly senseless actions would ensure their relative safety. This was precisely the conclusion Scoria had reached.

Until then, the young female had lived amidst the oppressive twilight of Level C with her father. Everything changed when, a few days ago, they saw the first inexplicable flash of light right in the middle of their territory. An inexperienced female would have been quick to ignore this mysterious phenomenon, but Basalt’s reaction would not allow her to do so. Immediately after this incident, the usually composed, calm male was overcome by a tension that was difficult to explain. Scoria watched in disbelief as her father, overcome by anxiety, suddenly seemed to have completely lost his cool and grew more panicked with every passing minute. The young female was certain that Basalt knew something he didn’t want to tell her, and that this very mystery was the cause of his fear.

It didn’t take long for the male to be completely overwhelmed by his fears. He tried to reassure his increasingly stressed offspring, saying that the flash of light didn’t really mean much, but Scoria knew the truth – something was happening at Alpha Labs that could be deadly. What’s more, there was a risk that the female would have to face it alone, as Basalt had decided that (even though there was supposedly nothing to worry about) he needed to check a few things to unravel the mystery of that unusual light. He set off quickly, without any long, tearful goodbyes, hoping that this amateurish display of his supposed calm would give the juvenile acrocanthosaurus a little more confidence. Indeed, that was exactly the case – Scoria’s stress had eased, at least somewhat.

However, it began to build up again about three days later, when Basalt still hadn’t returned, and strange, this time terrifying flashes of light illuminated Level C about every two hours.

The female really did try with all her might to stick to the arrangements that were supposed to guarantee a safe reunion with her father – she was to remain in their territory and wait patiently for the adult acrocanthosaurus to return. However, her slowly growing hunger, the unsettling sounds attacking her from all sides without warning, and the frequent flashes of light meant that Scoria’s patience was finally exhausted. The female had to set out in search of him, for every additional hour spent in this isolated place was like excruciating torture to her, which would inevitably drive her mad.

Until now, she had rarely ventured beyond her home territory, so her knowledge of Alpha Labs was extremely limited. Admittedly, the female knew that the underground bunker had at least several levels; she had even visited Level B two or three times with her father, but she had no idea how she could get there on her own – all the enigmatic tunnels and passages between the various locations were a complete mystery to her. Even within her own level, she could not boast of any extraordinary knowledge. Having no idea where Basalt had gone (or where he might have gone at all), Scoria was doomed to a chaotic wander. She simply set off, planning to just go forward.

At that point, neither of them knew that Scoria and Eschaton had lived in relative proximity since the day they hatched. Their territories almost bordered one another, separated only by a narrow stretch of no-man’s-land, littered with mysterious, long-destroyed electronic devices.

In the lower levels of Alpha Labs, the air was almost completely still, so detecting the scent of an unexpected intruder was nearly impossible. One could sense an uninvited presence only through that strange, unpleasant shiver running down one’s spine almost every time one felt observed.

Eschaton felt just such a shiver.

Scoria had absolutely no idea what she was doing when she entered this dark, cluttered room. Her eyes, though accustomed to the semi-darkness, were struggling here – she was practically groping her way forward. She only saw the strange shape in the corner of the room when the light flashed on again, revealing the outlines of everything in front of her for just a second.

The female immediately stepped back in surprise at the sight of Eschaton’s menacing thorny spikes. She hadn’t expected to encounter another acrocanthosaurus on her way, let alone a specimen such as this volcanic male.

Eschaton, too, did not take kindly to this encounter. With a quiet but blood-curdling growl, he rose from his lair, fixing the stranger with his gaze. He was no fan of unexpected visitors. Nor did he intend to surrender his territory without a fight.

Scoria bared her teeth in a sudden surge of aggression. When she had set out on this doomed quest, she had had no hostile intentions. Now, however, as her frustration grew with every minute of fruitless effort…

The light flashed again on the ceiling, flooding the room with a red glow. Sudden, strange sounds could be heard from behind the wall, presumably coming from some electronic device that had, for some unknown reason, come to life. Before the two feuding dinosaurs could approach one another, all the light bulbs above them lit up again with a subdued glow.

Scoria stopped, and Eschaton looked anxiously towards the light. Despite their hostile attitudes, something united them at that moment – the hope that this change in the rhythm of the flashes was entirely insignificant and that everything would soon return to relative normality, and the cramped warehouse would once again be plunged into darkness.

Nothing could have been further from the truth – before either of them could make a move, the lights flared up again, flashing in a haphazard manner.

1490 words