No more snow baths

I'm fine now. I am. Ish.
I just wish... no. It doesn't matter what I wish. Forget it.

Lank and Prophet ran out of the skeleton room, following the path Whisk had taken. Down the passageway was a steep flight of stairs. They went down, down. At the bottom they pulled up short. The pair stood on a ledge surrounding a massive hole in the floor. From below came a terrible stench and a wicked, piercing squealing. Rising above the hole was a noxious cloud of black vapor. The pair looked at each other, then over the edge. All that could be seen was a writing, shifting blackness, hordes of white and grey maggots crawling over the surface. They drew back and looked at each other. "Darkmother," the said, fear, reverence and disgust crossing their faces. There was another door to the right. They began creeping along the ledge to get to it.
"Do you think the Centipede followed us?" said Prophet.
"I don't think they can fit across these ledges," replied Lank. "Unless they can- oh, check that, they can." A second Centipede crawled along the wall towards them. They froze. But when it reached them, it simply stroked their heads briefly with its antennae and scuttled away. "Oh," said Lank. "Maybe it's their room. They might not want to fight near the Darkmother."
"Or maybe they're not dangerous at all," laughed Prophet. "I mean, it's not as if they have pincers."
"Or mouths, even." Lank peered over the edge again at the squirming mass below. "From maggots to Centipedes to Serpents... this is really pushing definitions, to say nothing of husbandry..."
The pair reached the next room. It was much smaller than the others, filled with rows of what appeared to be marble tombs, but was otherwise empty. Prophet frowned. "Dammit, where did she go?"
Lank sighed, then chuckled. "Maybe she was swallowed by the Darkmother, and when we kill her she's going to crawl out of her stomach completely unharmed."
"Silly a prospect as that is, around here it's not actually that unlikely- oh, hang on, here she is." They came upon the filthy and badly-shaken Whisk cowering behind behind the final row of containers. Prophet lifted her head. "Are you all right, Whisk? How did you get here?"
"I- I dont' know-" the female alter stuttered, near tears. "I just woke up here, and there's that skeleton, and that dead thing, and, and... [mutant]" she finished, slipping in her panic into thought-speech. "[Twisted Serpent. And Her. Darkmother!]" She collapsed back into sobs.
Curious, Lank pushed back the lid of the nearest marble container. Inside was a large black orb, perhaps a foot and a half across with a glassy shell. He scratched his head. "It looks like an egg, but... the container thing, it doesn't make sense. Since the maggots are born down there, I don't see..."
"There could be any number of reasons for it," said Prophet. "I'll take that. If we can't find a use for it, I'm sure Skeleton will." He miraculously picked up the orb and slipped it carefully into a pocket. "Now." He faced the other alters and put on his serious face. "We have two objectives. First and foremost, we must kill the Darkmother. Failing that, or even not failing that, we must get the hell out of here. Any questions?"
Lank frowned. "Yeah. How are we supposed to kill this thing? We're in enemy territory here. I say we get out now, regroup, and return at a later date with an actual plan. We don't stand a chance right now."
"We can't leave," insisted Prophet. "This is a huge opportunity. If we get out now, we may never get this close again."
"I don't see why we have to kill Her at all." Whisk rose, calming down. "Can't we just leave them alone? I don't see why anyone has to die."
The other two thought for awhile. Prophet answered carefully. "The Serpents are dangerous. There shouldn't be any place in our mind where we are afraid to walk. This place is ours. Either the Serpents are a malicious presence here, or they are figments of our collective imagination. Either way, we can't show them any sympathy. If we leave them to fester and grow, they may one day pose a threat to our very core. They're a force of evil, Whisk. One way or another, there's not a speck of good in them."
"There's a speck of good in everything," said Whisk.
She's quite sensible when she puts her mind to it, mused Lank. Shame she doesn't do it more often. "We can decide this later, can't we? Let's look around a bit. We're not in danger now at least. But first sign of trouble, I'm out, you hear?" The others shrugged and nodded. The left and began edging along the ledge again. "I've been thinking, actually," said Lank, "and I thought the Darkmother was much larger than this."
Prophet answered. "I think most of the Darkmother is coiled up even deeper beneath the surface. This is just one of her access points."
"But this is a breeding ground, by the looks of it. So that there in the pit is her..." The trio peered over the lip and shuddered. "Well, that settles it. Set foot in there, no matter what else happens, we're screwed."
"That's horrid," snapped Whisk.

It's been a few days and I haven't been transferred, which I'm taking as a good sign that I didn't fail Bio after all. Next up, English, Yearbook, Lit and Chemistry - that's three english courses and one science. Looks like a busy year.
And I need a hug. But what else is new?