The Underground Room of Slime
Mitchell, Age 10, Bragg Creek, AB

Lucy and George jogged down the gravelly, dusty road. They were going to school, and they were late. Lucy was thirteen, but George was only ten. Each of them shared a taste for adventure, even though there was a three-year difference between them, and they were still in the same class.

“George! Go faster! Mom doesn’t pay me 50¢ a day just so I can wait for you to catch up to me! I’m supposed to walk you to school!” snapped Lucy, stopping in her tracks. She turned her head around to see what was holding George up.

“Lucy! Look at this!” called George, his finger stabbing the trunk of a lush green tree.

Lucy dashed over to where George was standing. On the trunk, there was a carving of a robin, with its head pointing into the trees. “WOW, George! Good find! Hey, there’s another one of a deer, with its head pointed the same way as the robin's!” said Lucy in an excited sort of way.

“And here’s one of an owl! Its head is also pointing the same way as the other animals’ heads!” grinned George.

“Let’s follow them!” said Lucy, as the brother and sister tracked down all the markings; they led them all the way to a small, skinny trail in the forest.

“I wonder where all of these animal carvings are going to lead us?” asked George.

“I’m not sure, but - Hey, there’s another robin!” cried out Lucy, and she dashed the way that the head was pointing. But, in less than a minute, Lucy had stopped again.

“What is it?” called out George, running up to Lucy. George then stopped in his tracks too. They were staring up at an old, rotting farmhouse. "Let’s go up there!” said George in an enthusiastic voice. Lucy and George jumped over a small boulder and dashed towards the rickety old building. A broken-down door was lying on the floor, close to a hole in the wall. They jumped over it, and trotted into the farmhouse. The farmhouse had rotting floorboards on the ground, and mold was leeching out from one side of the wall. One certain thing caught George’s attention, though. A perfectly square floorboard with a golden handle on it.

He walked over to it, then grabbed on. With all his strength, he pulled up and the floorboard sprang up, hitting George in the face and also leaving a hole in the floor. Lucy and George eyed the hole suspiciously (George still holding his face), and after a minute’s silence, George said: “Let’s go in.”

George scanned the dark passage way. It was pitch black, except for a small, orange candle. Lucy snatched it off a boulder and started to lead the way through the passage. George followed with a nervous look on his face. “H-how much longer?” he stammered.

“We've been here for twenty-five seconds!” replied Lucy. “And anyway, I see an opening ahead!”

Lucy and the freaked-out George entered a stone walled room, their footsteps echoing in the darkness. From what George could see with the candlelight, there was slime dripping off the walls and a silvery circular object lying on the ground. George reached down to pick it up, but Lucy grabbed his arm. “Don’t, it might be dangerous,” she said, and she reached down for it instead. When she held it up to the candle, George could see that it was a compass. Lucy pulled the rusty lid open with a creak, and a red arrow pointed to a black ‘N’.

Lucy glanced in the way that the arrow was pointing and saw a sparkly shine coming from a pile of translucent green slime. “Hey, is this a gold coin?” asked Lucy, snatching up a shiny flat circle.

“Must be! And here’s another one! And another!” replied George, pointing to a trail of sparkles. He dashed down the glowing corridor.

Ahead of them, George saw a pile of more gold coins, and a sign that read: PICK CAREFULLY. But, before George actually started to read the sign, he felt a warm air rising towards his face. The hairs on the back of his head stood on end, but he decided that it was just Lucy’s breath. So, he carefully trotted over to the pile and eyed the coins suspiciously. Why did the sign say to pick carefully? He considered this for a moment and then reached down to grab a handful of gold. When he had come up from a crouching position, he used his other hand, grabbed a single coin, and raised it to his eye. On the coin, there was a moose marking and a line of numbers that read: 1678. George figured this was when the coin was made, and stowed it away in his pocket.

But, the moment he had dropped the coin into his leather pocket, he felt a sharp pain burn across his forehead. He collapsed into a heap on the floor. “George!” screamed Lucy, dashing over to George’s limp body. From the look on George’s face, he was still alive, but just knocked out. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, what am I going to do, oh my god!” said Lucy, pacing back and forth and holding her head. “Oh, I know! If the sign said to pick carefully, there must be at least one good coin!” She raced over towards the pile again and stared at all of the coins.

How would Lucy know how to find the right coin? Lucy couldn’t be knocked out too! “I know!” Lucy answered. “All of the coins have a picture and a date on them! George’s coin had a moose picture and the year 1678! All the coins that are bad must have the same as George’s! I need to find one that does NOT have a moose picture and the year 1678!” And with that, Lucy dived into the pile and snatched up coins at random. “Here’s a moose, and another moose, and another moose, and there’s another,” yawned Lucy, who was getting bored of moose pictures.

“And another moose, and another moose, and another moose, and another moo- wait! This is a duck and the year is 1249!” exclaimed Lucy excitedly. She hopped off the pile of coins and zoomed over to George. He moaned as Lucy reached out for his hand and opened his fingers. She gently placed the coin in George’s hand, and he regained consciousness almost instantly.

“W-w-where am I?” stammered George looking around.

"Well, I guess I might as well tell him his name,” thought Lucy to herself.

“Uh, hi, your name is George,” Lucy said, not entirely sure how to put the situation. “Also, I’m your sister, we are in a trapdoor secret passage, you just stuffed a cursed coin into your pocket, it knocked you out, and I found a reviving coin, you regained consciousness, and now you forgot everything.”

“Huh?” George asked, sitting up and eying Lucy with two messed up eyes. Lucy moaned and decided that she would have to go on and find a way out on her own. She shoved George into a dark corner, just in case, and continued on moving towards the next passage.

When Lucy had finished crawling through the passage, she came out in a very long, but skinny room. At the far end, there was a humongous chessboard. Lucy figured that it was for decoration, and trotted over to it. Because the room was so skinny, the chessboard took over the entire width of the room. So, she lifted a foot up onto one side and pulled herself up. But, as she tried to continue walking across it, an invisible barrier pushed her back. She tried to cross a second time, but the barrier stopped her again. When she tried to cross a third time, the barrier practically threw her back five feet. A gigantic sign fell from the stone ceiling where she was standing, which read: ‘Play me.’ “Oh, I am good at chess!” thought Lucy, and she clambered down back onto the ground.

She snatched up a white pawn with both hands wrapped around it and pushed it forward two spaces. Suddenly, with nothing moving it, a black knight made an “L” jump towards her. Lucy considered her move, then grabbed a bishop and pushed it diagonally five spaces. Another black rook moved forward and rammed into Lucy’s pawn, knocking it off the board. The game continued on like this, Lucy and the other invisible player knocking about the same amount of pieces off the board. Eventually, Lucy’s bishop had a clear shot at the other team’s king, and with all her strength, she slammed it into him. At that same time, a lot of things happened. The white pieces cheered, as well as Lucy, a sharp pop announced the disappearing of the invisible barrier, and all the remaining black pieces hopped off the board sulking, leaving a clear path for Lucy to walk across. Lucy hopped onto the chessboard and once again started across the black and white checkered board.

Once she had jumped off the other side of the chess game and onto a rocky platform, she felt a warm rush of wind blow into her face. She looked up, and saw three black, gleaming eyes. And those eyes belonged to a giant, hairy beast.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screamed Lucy, scrambling back towards the chessboard.

She backed over to a corner with shiny, transparent stalactites hanging from the roof, and even a couple of stalagmites sticking up from the ground. She dashed behind them, using them as a shield, and plucked a small sharp one to defend herself. Just as Lucy suspected, the big hairy beast advanced. It swung its arms around, causing rocks to fall from the roof and shattering stalagmites.

In all the commotion, Lucy didn’t hear a gigantic roar, a young boy’s voice yelling, “For Narnia!!” and a stabbing sound. When Lucy turned her head, all she saw was a giant, bleeding, hairy mass and George standing on top of it with a long sharp piece of wood in hand. Half was sticking out of the beast’s side, with a flow of red blood coming out of the wound. Lucy couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Thank you, George! You saved my life! Oh, and where did that 'For Narnia' come from?” she cried.

“Well, we just watched the Narnia movie, right?,” grinned George, and he hopped off the dead creature towards a small hole in the far wall. Lucy stuck her head in, making sure it was safe.

“It’s OK,” called out Lucy, and she dropped to her hands and knees so she could crawl through the damaged wall. George followed her and stood up once they were on the other side. A swirling, circular blue and green life-size swirly mist stood in front of them.

"A teleporter!" exclaimed George. Lucy and George nodded to each other and stepped forwards, falling into the swirling substance. A moment later, they were lying on their backs, on the floor of their own house. Over top of them, there stood...one...angry...mom.

“Where have you been?” she asked, nodding towards the gooey guck running down their pants.

“It’s a looooooooong story,” replied George, Lucy and George exchanging looks.

                                                The End   

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