The Rubbish Realm

Chapter 16

Evander blinked. Nothing.
He pinched himself - yup, definitely awake. Was he suddenly blind? He reached out in front of him - nothing. He sat down. The ground was too smooth, like if he stood up he would wipe out. He tried it - somehow his boots found traction... he suddenly realized he had had his boots on in the house. Well, it had worked out, hadn't it?
What is that floor?, he thought to himself. Somehow it was holding his weight, but it was smoother than anything but ice. He reached behind him and pulled out an arrow. Leaning forwards, he tried to scrape the floor with the arrow. Nothing happened. If anything, it seemed to be dulling the arrow.
He pushed a little harder - and suddenly, the floor gave way with a crack. Topping forwards, he dropped the arrow and scraped his hand on the edge. It seemed to slice through his hand smoothly, ignoring the skin and - tendons? He pulled his hand back, wrapping a cloth around it to stop the bleeding. From what he could tell, it seemed smooth, but since he couldn't see it, he couldn't be sure. The arrow was gone. Evander extended a foot carefully, tracing the floor to the narrow crack that had happened. It was small, relievingly. Pulling out a second arrow, he decided to test how sharp it really was. It sliced through the arrow with little resistance. Tracing the slice with his fingers, the wood was smooth, smoother than most daggers, he observed. Snaking another arrow into the hole, he yanked it upwards against the underside of the floor. With a clink, a piece flew off away from him. The arrow, upon inspection, was fine.
Intrigued, Evander crawled to the other side of the whole and began probing the floor with the arrow. Nothing... nothing... oh! It bumped into something. Evander edged towards it carefully. He'd knocked it a little bit with the arrow, but he found it in the dark. He tried to pick it up, but the edges cut his fingers. He couldn't get under it with the arrow as it lay too flat... what would Melton do?
Melton would deal with the blood flowing, though not very profusely, from his fingers. Evander took another cloth from his backpack, fumbled around with it with his left hand, trying to rip a few parts off to tie around his fingers. Wishing to clean them first, he sucked the blood off, noting the sharp metallic taste, then quickly wrapped the strips of cloth around them one by one. The blood would make them stick long enough to get them tied, and from the looks of it, he had plenty of time.
The blood solved, he turned back to the ground... and realized he had lost the shard in the dark. He pulled out an arrow again and began probing the floor as before. There was the hole... there the ground again... there! The arrow brushed against it, his measured hand scarcely moving it at all. He tried again to pry the shard up from under itself, but it simply slid away... and away... and away again. The floor was simply too slippery. He paused, then moved his satchel to stop the sliding, pushed the shard towards it - and it didn't stop.
He brushed the floor with his fingers carefully where it had just been - and nothing was there. He picked up his satchel, and a clinking sound resonated through the dead-quiet area. Feeling the bag with his fingers, he found a narrow slit, a hole that hadn't been there before. Nothing seemed to be falling out, so he put the satchel back down, perplexed. As he placed his hand on the ground to steady himself, coming to a seated position, his left hand fell on top of something. He jerked it up, falling back onto his right hand - which broke through the floor. The crack resounded through the entire place as he resisted the urge to yank back his injured appendage. He couldn't see any shards, so carefully he pulled his hand out vertically, avoiding an angle as much as possible. It seemed to brush against something as he brought it out, but he could feel blood trickling from his hand from many different cuts. He needed to be more careful.
He quickly took the cloth and bound it around his entire hand, wincing from the pain, which was all he really felt. Wherever he was sure was dangerous.