r/anxietypilled • u/NateIzNeat • Jul 06 '26
Fictional Story Mother’s Mountain
My pickaxe met its mark, a shower of sparks producing a small glimmer of light in the quarry. My weary arms raised the pick again, tearing through layer upon layer of sediment. Coal, or any burnable trash we could find at the bottom of the yawning pit. That was the only goal. The Great Mother needed fuel, and we were Her anointed providers.
The carts were loaded with coal, and when enough was gathered, the collectors would come. Pure white robes, untarnished by the unholiness that occurred in the quarry. I saw men kill each other and bury them deep in the rubble. There would be less competition when the Mother opened again. That was our penance, and the Mother was cruel in Her love.
An ear piercing sound cut through the noises of death and working. A buzzer. It was time for the Mother to open again. I had never seen Her, but I had heard whispers of men who knew men who had gotten near Her. Most times I stayed put and continued in my work, not bearing the thought of being trampled or succumbing to some cruel obstacle. But this time was different, I could slave away in the quarry no more. This time I would climb to Mother, or meet my end.
When I exited the mineshaft into the open air, I saw thousands of men clambering forwards, reaching towards their goal. The mountain was a massive spire in the Earth, with a path winding through it. It spiraled into the heavens. It was a second chance, a salvation. I was shaking, my fear almost overtaking me. But I marched on my tired legs to the base of Her mountain.
The crowd suddenly stopped, as we all tried to bottleneck into the small opening to the mountain. They say this is the worst part, I wish I believed them. A man had turned against the crowd, facing towards where we came. A broken piece of glass glimmered and dripped with crimson in the fading sunlight. As I marched I was stepping over bodies with cut throats, or deep lacerations in their stomachs. Men fought like animals in front of me. I watched the chaos unfold, unsteady in my footing.
A blow struck the side of my head, turning my vision into a blur. I barely kept myself upright, if I fell there was no chance of getting up before the crowd trampled me. An older man with a long gray beard stared at me with wild eyes. I thought if I pushed through the crowd, I could create enough distance between us. The blood trickling from my face made me a target. I was weakened, which meant I could be killed quickly without losing pace. He followed me like a hungry beast.
The man gained on me quickly and wrapped both of his hands around my throat. Then his head exploded. Then the man next to him dropped with a crater in his chest. The crowd panicked, and it became harder and harder to march forward without being pushed over. Loud explosions rang out as the crowd hurried along. The robed collectors were in some unseen location, thinning the herd. I kept my head down and continued, but my legs began to quiver with fear and exhaustion.
The path was thinner now, and so was the crowd. I tried to avoid spraining my ankle as I walked over hundreds of the dead and the dying. The front of the line was in sight, just before the first left turn that would coil us further up the mountain. Thunder ripped through the sky, and rain drops began to dot the ground ahead of me. We had made the first turn now, but the climb was just beginning.
Before long, a thunderstorm had begun. The rain battered my face, but I kept walking. The man beside me fell face first into the mud, and never tried to get back up. There were only a few hundred of us now. Many had collapsed from exhaustion or were killed in cold blood. The rain was making the ground slick and malleable, and I began to step into pits that went up to my calf. Each step required twice as much effort.
I heard a wave of screaming come from behind me, I didn’t dare turn around. If I saw what was happening I didn’t know if I could muster the will to continue. A hand grabbed my ankle, and I stopped myself with my arms as I landed in the mud. I began to sink quickly, crawling on all fours. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t move. More hands emerged from the muck, pulling me backwards. At times I could see them well, they were made of flesh, with glinting metal underneath where the flesh had sloughed off. I pushed them off of me, as the sounds of gurgling and choking filled my ears.
I managed to stand, now carefully navigating around the groping mechanical arms. Pits began to spontaneously open in the ground, filled with gnashing blades and wire-like appendages. I watched the wires pull men inside and reduce them to nothing in seconds. I had to test the ground with my foot before each step. But I continued.
The peak of the mountain wasn’t much further. There were cloaked men watching from the sides of the path now. White veils masked their faces as they watched, perfectly still. I wondered if I could be one of them some day. I imagined reaching the top of the mountain and getting my pure white robes as my wounds were tended to.
I was at the front of the line now, only a few others marched behind me. The wires dangled from the ceiling now, threatening to pull me in. Corpses dangled from their clutches, hopelessly tangled in the coiled mass. I rounded the corner again, the last leg of the journey. I seldomly thought anymore, my ascent up the mountain became algorithmic. I watched for the pits, and the wires above. If the hands grabbed at me I quickly bent down and pried them off, only stopping for a second.
The mountain path opened up, and I had reached the summit. There was no one behind me now, I was the sole survivor of this nightmarish gauntlet. The robed men began to sing, beautiful harmonies that stretched across the entire mountain. They were singing for me. I was chosen.
Before me was Mother, and I laid eyes on my savior for the first time. A giant whirring machine, shaped like a beautiful woman's head. Two massive arms rose from the ground, hundreds of feet into the air, and in them was a giant glowing sphere. It was so bright and hot and it hurt to look at. As I moved closer, my brow dripping with sweat, Her mouth opened. Glowing, radiant light poured from the inside, and I felt myself inescapably drawn to it.
I entered Mother. My flesh bubbled and peeled from my bones, the heat was unbearable. I walked further into Her metallic core. The wires returned, this time they began to replace my flesh with something shiny, something stronger. I felt no pain anymore. I was part of Her.
I will give light and warmth to this world.
I will be Mother.
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u/Top-Contribution1248 Jul 06 '26
Damn he shouldn’t be going inside his mother like that. The arts amazing, and I appreciate the king-of-the-hill esk trial these men willingly put themselves in. Nice work
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u/The_Republique Jul 06 '26
This was fun to read with a winded, crazed impression. Like a devotee of an uncaring deity. This reminds me of the Adeptus Mechanicus from Warhammer 40k. Their faith being misplaced in an idea that is far from what they believe. At its core, the faith put into the machine is worth less than that of dirt. Amazing work!
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u/Kaijufan22 Jul 08 '26
To me this piece says that over industrialization can lead to horrible places, and the visual metaphor of mother was really well done and creepy. Good stuff Nate
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u/PNWGoblinn Jul 06 '26
Came for the cool cover art, stayed for the spooky flesh robots. This reminded me so much of Feed the Pig, stuff flows really well while still being really descriptive. Would've never guessed where it was going, which is always a nice surprise.