Now that everything in the cave had been explored down to the last corner, there wasn’t much to do. Noah once more dug through every software nook of the tablet, hoping somehow to recover the lost YouTube page. No luck.
The only remaining outlet to the internet was the email app, but Noah knew by heart only two email addresses. One of them was his own mother. The other belonged to his uncle. Neither looked like especially good correspondent, especially now, when they were burying his dead body. There were four friends too, but Noah knew only their WhatsApp addresses. Phone numbers and other stuff—it had been entered into his cellphone, and he had never needed to remember them. Except now, when he needed it the most…
In the mail app, there were only messages from the Afterlife Administrator, to which replies were not accepted. Still, Noah wrote to the Admin, asking about his situation and what he should do.
He received an automatic response that the messages could not be sent.
So now Noah played with the two buckets, no longer knowing how ELSE he could fight the boredom. This cave was truly devilishly boring. The flow of time remained unclear; one day did not differ from another day, and Noah had no idea how long he had been here. He had even considered going to sleep… but he didn’t want to sleep. Of course, if he tried harder, he might fall asleep. But he sensed it would be better not to. He didn’t know the exact reason, yet the bed with its mattress seemed like a very bad idea. If the dead didn’t need sleep—why had such a piece of furniture been left here at all? What would happen if he decided to go to sleep? Maybe a new part of the “escape room” scenario would begin?
Noah decided he would test that only if absolutely no other option remained. For now, the strange black doors and two buckets of water awaited him.
While playing with the buckets, he noticed a new oddity. They became light when the “charge” drained not by one, but by two buckets. As if the administrators were guarding against him cheating and trying to pour the ninth bucket, then carry up the tenth and eleventh. That was exactly what Noah had planned. Left with nothing to do, he felt especially inventive. Apparently, the admins had already encountered similar behavior if they had created such safeguards.
But there was still another way to haul up an eleventh bucket. He could wait until the “charge” drained by two buckets of water, then carry up two full buckets, leave one of them unpoured, and repeat the trip with the eleventh, full bucket. Of course, that one would be devilishly heavy, but one heavy bucket was better than two. There was nothing else to do anyway.
Since the “charge” had been replenished quite recently, Noah again counted seconds in his head while trying at the same time to figure out what the administrators might actually be aiming for by imprisoning him in such a place. For now, his current activity seemed completely pointless. And if his entire post-mortem existence turned out to be just as pointless… Noah didn’t want to think about that option.
Having counted to fifteen thousand, he finally reached the moment when both buckets became light again. Having easily hauled the water, he poured one bucket into the abyss. Lifting the other bucket, he noticed its weight hadn’t changed. Hmm… a delayed effect? Or do they become lighter only when right at the edge of the abyss?
After waiting a bit, Noah tried lifting it again. The bucket still yielded easily. It seemed the second guess had been correct.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Leaving the full bucket on the edge of the abyss, he went down with the empty one and filled it to the brim. He had already learned that a bucket’s weight did not depend on how much water was in it. So if he was destined to suffer, he would suffer with a completely full one.
There was only one problem—the damned narrow handle nearly cut into his fingers. Gripping with both hands, clenching his teeth and hissing like some steam engine, Noah slowly crawled toward the stairs. That was the easiest stretch. Climbing the stairs with such a weight seemed not only harder but also more dangerous. The slightest mistake—and everything would be flooded with a liquid you could not put your foot into. Then he’d be counting crows by the abyss for who knows how long.
Having somehow covered a quarter of the way, Noah heard an especially loud beep. It was the tablet left up above, announcing that some new message had arrived.
Seriously? Right now, when he was trying to do exactly what the admins were guarding against? Maybe they were watching his behavior and had decided to beg him to refrain? Maybe that eleventh bucket would blow up the entire cavern? But that was precisely the result Noah was aiming for!
Still, overcome by curiosity—and by the unholy weight of the bucket—he left the container on a stair step and climbed up to take a look. He brushed a finger over the tablet’s screen and widened his eyes when he saw something unexpected:
YouTube.com: Your video has received a new comment.
My video?! At last!
Delighted, Noah tapped the notification with a trembling finger. After a moment, the page opened. The same one he no longer expected to see. Now Noah swore to himself that he would never close this window again. Under no circumstances. He would replenish the charge every single day with no excuses. He would not wait until it dropped to half or even less. Under no circumstances…
His good mood was dampened a little by the content of the comment:
@FrozenDrunkard (a few minutes ago)
You could try harder. Everything is so dark it’s impossible to watch. But the idea isn’t bad. You could write a script for a series. Just hire a proper actor, because you yourself aren’t doing much. Good luck and see you next time!
Noah reread the comment again and again, a little pleased that he had been noticed, but also irritated that the viewer hadn’t taken his cry for help as a serious matter.
On the other hand, what else could he expect? The internet was overflowing with every kind of movie, and the public had grown numb to them all. There was almost no chance anyone would look at him seriously and without humor.
At first, he intended to reply to the Frozen Drunkard that this was a very serious matter, but soon changed his mind. They would just take him for a complete lunatic.
So he wrote a thank-you for that one comment, added a smiley through clenched teeth, and also asked to share the link with friends. After that, he felt pathetic... as if he had sold his soul to the god of the internet.
Noah waited to see whether another comment would appear, but people were in no hurry.
In the end, Noah began to consider the idea for his next recording. One that the audience might perhaps view much more seriously. Now he had three working lanterns, so he would be able to record his surroundings right up to the cursed doors. He would show them the water pump, the glowing water, the oddities with the buckets…
Wait, the buckets!..
Quietly cursing, Noah ran to the bucket he had left on the stairs. Unfortunately, while he had been thanking that one viewer and waiting for new feedback, enough time had passed. The bucket had become normal weight again.
On the other hand, he had regained his YouTube window, so Noah didn’t fret too much. Another filming session awaited him, and the chance that more viewers would gather after a second video. Among whom at least one would look at the whole thing very seriously.
After all, the world had plenty of people with a few screws loose. Maybe among them would be someone who knew exactly what was happening in this cave.