EVEREST

“C O M E I B”

Ordinarily, the sight of one’s name accompanied by red, jarring letters splattered across the floor would be off-putting. Whomever that poor soul was that had to bare witness to the sight would likely feel a chill, maybe even scream or shiver, before darting off in the nearest opposite direction in search of an exit.

Not her, though. Not Ib.

The gallery had gone dark. All visitors except herself seemingly vanished into thin air, leaving only a young, brown-haired girl with deep, red eyes, wandering around the empty exhibit. The thousand pupils of Guertena’s best works seemed to follow her behind her back. Some of them, perhaps, did. She’d swear she heard the sound of a sneeze, or a cat’s meow, but when she looked around… no one in the gallery. Just Ib all alone.

‘Abyss of the Deep.’ One of Guertena’s most famous works, a massive portrait etched into the floor, originally blocked off by velvet ropes, now was wide open. The depths awaited.

“C O M E I B”

Empty-handed and with only a handkerchief in her pocket, Ib took the first step into the still portrait, the eyes of the beast pictured looking like they could spring to life and swallow her whole at any moment. Her foot slipped through the floor. It was cold. Wet. But the thin layer of water housed an entire new area on the other side – and the only way forward was down. Ib pinched her nose and pushed through the painting like water, emerging from the other side on a downwards staircase dry while the murky waves were left behind her.

Her eyes opened wide. Child-like curiosity took over from this new surrounding. Ib took her first steps into the open hallway at the bottom. “Mom?...” She called out, her voice hushed and soft. “…Dad?”