The Maze The Lost Labyrinth - By Jason Brannon Page 0,21

of Heaven was at your disposal if only you knew how to ask. Mama had known, and there was a lot I could have learned from her.

The heady fragrance of blueberries was like an aerosolized insulation, temporarily shielding me from all of the evils that were being perpetrated around me. For the briefest of moments, I felt calm, safe, even reassured. Maybe it was just the thought of my mother that did the trick. Or maybe it was the thought of her faith that gave me strength.

“God, please don‘t let me die in the bowels of this prison,” I sank to my knees. “Deliver me, Lord. Show me the way out.”

I shook and shivered with each word, and it was all I could do to kneel down and stay bowed in supplication. I thought of my mother’s example and forced myself to talk to God. It had been years since I had done such a thing. I wasn’t sure if He would hear me now after ignoring Him for so long.

The minotaur didn’t seem to care about my prayers. He continued attacking the door with a reckless abandon, intent on getting inside. The labyrinth trembled around me as the beast tried to force his way in. Meanwhile, I held fast to the jar of jelly and tried to focus on the memories it represented.

The beast’s growling quickly turned to prolonged shrieks of pain as a second voice howled out its fury for all the world to hear. Although I couldn’t see what was happening on the other side of that wall, it sounded like two tornadoes had collided and were in the process of destroying everything in their path. Evidently the minotaur wasn’t the only inhabitant of the labyrinth. I tried to conjure an image of something equally as horrible, and it was one time I wished my imagination wasn’t quite so vivid.

They continued fighting, roaring with anger, attacking each other. I hoped the minotaur was losing the battle, although that meant there was something even more terrible to face. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

As the battle raged on the other side of the wall, I wondered if my prayer had worked, if God had actually sent one of His angels to rescue me. Whatever was on the other side of the wall didn’t sound like an angel. Then again, I didn’t really know what kinds of sounds angels made.

Knowing it was fruitless to speculate, I kept praying instead, just like my mother would have done. Within a minute the clippety-clop of hooves faded as the minotaur fled. I couldn’t believe my luck. Then I realized luck had nothing to do with it.

My mother would have been proud, and I resolved to give her a call if and when I ever got out of this place.

The fact that the minotaur was gone lifted my spirits, but I was still trapped inside this room of broken glass and spilled sins. Slimy hands, wet eyeballs, salacious tongues, and other severed organs littered the floor. It looked like a dissection lab had blown up, and I had absolutely no idea how to get out. The door was in shambles, but miraculously it still held.

I placed both hands on the broken door and pushed as hard as I could. I was pretty skeptical that my efforts would have any effect since the minotaur hadn’t been able to gain access, but the door miraculously slid back on an unseen track. I braced myself, fully expecting to see something with rippling muscles, blood-tainted fangs, and claws still wet from the recent battle. Nothing growled or leapt out of the darkness.

Relieved, I took a deep breath and was about to enter the hallway again when something moved. I jumped back and immediately prepared myself for a battle. My efforts, however, were wasted.

A black Labrador with golden eyes and a cheerful disposition stared at me curiously. I was sure my mind was playing tricks on me or that this was some sort of illusion manufactured by the labyrinth until then the dog jumped on me and licked me. I had never been much of an animal lover, but I welcomed the touch of this creature. Wherever this dog had come from, it was most certainly real. More importantly, it was friendly.

Was it possible this was the creature responsible for the minotaur’s retreat?

“What’s your name, boy?”

The dog wasn’t wearing a tag of any sort. Because the hallway was dark, I pulled him back