After naming her Phoebe, Hill knew it was time to get serious. He needed out of this volcanic hellhole as soon as possible.
His eyes traced the cavern walls of rough black rock. They were way too steep and too dangerous to climb. It was honestly ridiculous to even consider it and it was clear that the heat was getting to him. He needed another plan, but his mind was blank.
Stranded on this small platform in the middle of an underground lava lake. It was a terrible situation. He couldn't stay here forever, slowly roasting or eventually tumbling into the molten rock below. Something had to give.
He glanced at Phoebe, then back at the imposing wall. Maybe the magnificent, the most glorious, the honored ghostly hand could actually help?
Alright, Phoebe. I'm stuck. Need to get out. Any ideas? His thoughts directed toward the ghostly hand.
Phoebe's fingers wiggled in response. She drifted upward, floating toward the stalactites hanging from the cavern ceiling. Hill squinted as she touched one of the rocky spikes, then pointed deliberately toward the wall that was stood on the opposite side of the cavern. His brow furrowed in confusion.
What? You want me to somehow get to the stalactites? They're way too high, Phoebe.
Phoebe wiggled her fingers again, but she was a bit too high up for Hill to understand what she was trying to say. She then grabbed one of the stalactites and tugged firmly. The massive spike didn't budge an inch.
Then, Hill felt a bizarre sensation. Some kind of tether was established, linking Phoebe to his right hand. He could feel the stalactite's weight as if he were holding it himself. The sensation was utterly foreign, taking several moments to process.
That's... incredible. But what good does it—
His body lurched upward without warning. The invisible connection was shortening, dragging him toward the stalactite Phoebe clutched.
Holy shit! Phoebe! Wait!
She ignored his panic as he flailed wildly, grasping at empty air while being pulled skyward. Nothing to grab, nothing to stop his ascent.
The lava beneath him slowly grew further away. It was as if he was being rescued from the depths of hell... by the magnificent Phoebe of course. Who else?
When he finally reached the stalactite, his fingers wrapped around the cold stone surface of the stalactite. It was way too smooth. His stomach dropped.
I can't hold on! I'll slip!
Phoebe released her grip, forcing Hill to clutch the stalactite as hard as he could while she drifted to another stalactite across the cavern near the ceiling. The strange tether sensation returned immediately.
Confusion re-emerged within Hill's mind. Now that he was on the same elevation as Phoebe, if he were to let go of the stalactite he would be affected by gravity and swing downwards.
Was he actually supposed to let go? Is that what Phoebe wanted him to do?
His eyes traced the potential arc and spotted an unusual crack in the volcanic rock wall, about five yards above the lava's surface. It looked wide enough for his body.
So that's what she's trying to do. But that's so risky! What if I miss!
He felt himself slipping from the stalactite. He grimaced.
No choice now. He released his grip and swung through the scorching air, his heart hammering and his eyes watering. The crack seemed to grow wider as he approached, looking even wider up close. However, he was hurtling toward it at an alarming speed.
Aaahh! Too fast! Too—
He sailed through the opening just as Phoebe's tether vanished. His momentum carried him into the expansive tunnel before he crashed to the ground, rolling several feet forward.
Blessed cool air enveloped him with its loving embrace. Hill gasped for breath, his pulse still racing.
I can't believe that worked!
The tunnel was dark and damp, but clear enough to navigate. A faint glow beckoned from its depths.
"Nice job, Phoebe," he said aloud. "We made it." Though that swing was nearly fatal.
The ghostly hand reappeared, throwing a triumphant thumbs up straight in his face and wiggling it side to side.
Hill couldn't help but laugh at the absurd celebration. He really was grateful for this peculiar ally. After resting briefly, he followed the distant light.
The source turned out to be some kind of bioluminescent moss that covered the walls and ceiling. The moss was pale green in color with a soft glow that bathed everything in an emerald light.
Hill was in awe. This moss was much easier on the eyes in comparison to the lava's harsh glare.
He summoned Phoebe again, craving even this strange approximation of company.
"Let's figure out our next steps," he muttered. "We need water, food... and a way out of the underground. We can't stay down here forever, right?"
Phoebe waved what seemed like agreement.
"Alright! We'll look for some water first," Hill nodded. "I don't know about you, but I won't last long without it."
The tunnel stretched onward. Because the mossy walls seemed damp and because of the distant sound of trickling water, he believed that there would be some hydration source up ahead. But as they ventured deeper into the tunnel, an unsettling sensation crept over him.
He paused, scanning the shadows. There wasn't anything unusually visible besides the moss and the surrounding rock. It had to be his imagination, surely.
Then, as if challenging his doubt, a creature emerged from the darkness. When the moss-light illuminated it, Hill's breath caught in his throat.
The thing stood around three feet tall, its body elongated and covered in a dark leathery armor. It had six legs that ended in razor-sharp claws that seemed to stab the ground whenever it moved. Its carapace gleamed black as its obsidian red eyes glowed in the darkness.
Hill gulped, stepping away from the creature. He recognized that build from one of the most populous insects that lived on planet earth.
It was some kind of ant. A massive, nightmare-fueling ant.