Cynthia found herself in a maze of cardboard box tunnels with twists and turns and ups and downs.  She called out to Harris and was worried that she hadn’t heard from him, but she had to admit to herself that she was getting more and more interested in seeing as much of the maze as she could.  On the walls of the maze closer to where she entered there were several drawings of various fantastical things but the further she travelled there were fewer and fewer until there were none at all.  It was just blank tan walls, for yards.

 

She kept crawling and still had not found Harris.  She went around more and more turns.  She looked at her phone.  No bars.  An hour and a half had passed.  There’s no way she could be confined within the attic still, she thought.  There was no way she wouldn’t have come across Harris.

 

She crawled on.  She found a layer tunnels above floor level that she climbed up to.  She was glad the cardboard was surprisingly quite sturdy beneath her and even ventured to other layers of maze higher above.  There was a warm glow through the walls and it was never completely dark.  As she crawled further and further the ceiling became a taller to the point that she could stand.  Her knees and wrists were eased of their stress.

 

There was a noise.  Harris?  Cynthia called out, Is that you?  It was not.  She cautiously walked closer to the sound around a few bends in the maze.  She ducked her head around a corner and there in front of her was a half-naked little man with a crude bull mask of a head.  His bare chest was smooth and slender like a young boy’s, skinny arms, and dirty bare feet under his ragged brown pants.  His head looked as though it was made of papier-mache with hastily applied pant.  He was alive, his papier-mache head was not a mask but his flesh.  What the fuck is happening here!?!

 

Who goes there?

 

Uh, Harris?  Come on out Harris!

 

So it is you!  Harris!  The creator, the prisoner?  This can’t be, you are free!

 

What?  No, Cynthia.  What did you do with Harris?

 

It’s a lovely day isn’t it?  The rage birds have been held at bay…  Me?  No!  I was the Terror Man who took Harris.  I hate the Terror Man!  The Minotaur stomped.

 

How did you get in my attic? Nevermind…  Where’s the damn ‘Terror Man?’

 

When you hear the ‘chunk chunk’ do not walk away. 

 

When you are close you will find him.  Start walking in that direction.  The Minotaur pointed behind him.

 

Fuck it.  Okay, see ya little fella…

 

Wait, if you see the rage birds, stay calm and stay low to the cardboard.

 

Great, we’ve got birds stuck up here.  Do I have to fight you to get past you or something like that?

 

No… Do you want to fight?  We can fight.

 

That’s okay, maybe later…