Dungeon of Doors

~ Billy, Kagami Sea ~

The crash of waves overhead competes with the whistle of the wind in my ears as I cross the last bridge. Nearly half the planks on this one fall away, and so I keep a tight hold on the rope railings. One by one the group makes it to the last tower and crowds around the chest we saw from afar. It is a pitiful thing, merely an oversized lockbox. Thankfully there is a set of stairs leading deeper into the structure of this place. I hesitate to imagine what would have happened if this small box was all Geoff's life was worth.

"Lets grab whatever is in there and keep going," Kingsley snaps.

"Agreed."

I pop open the box to find some bronze coins and a healing potion. A pittance, but I imagine the real treasure is someplace deeper. We don't linger long out here on the tower. We descend, walking down a lengthy set of stairs. Each step we take causes the sounds of the dragons movement to fade and an oppressive medicinal smell to burn in our noses. Silence broken only by the creak of our footsteps on the floorboards pervades as we reach the bottom.

Here, deep beneath all that we've explored, there is a spacious chamber akin to the one we last fought those masked monsters in. Standing here now I feel my heart rate increase. While there is a large grand chest at the center of the room, it is flanked by two rows of the very same monsters we struggled to kill even one of. There are eight of the things standing perfectly still.

"They're statues."

I feel my shoulders sag slightly as Miss Hawthorne comments on the false monsters. Unfortunately my relief is short lived, as Drist quickly steps forward and puts a finger to his lips. We watch him point to three separate statues with his dagger. Dick—Kingsley's remaining underling—opens his mouth to say something, but stops when Drist starts throwing his daggers.

Two blades cut the air as Drist throws his weapons toward two statues. The first one hits the stone still decoration with enough force it sinks into its gooey flesh—flesh that is not stone! This green masked monster turns and writhes, throwing the dagger from its body to the floor. The second dagger Drist threw bounces off a monster's white mask as it moves to dodge the attack. A third statue reveals itself as a monster, slinking toward us with its purple mask twisted in perverse glee.

"They're all monsters! Get your weapons ready!"

I draw my sword. Similar sounds of weapons being unsheathed erupt around me and the fight is upon us. We're forced to form pairs to fight, with Henry and Leah joining Miss Hawthorne in combat as a trio. I joined Drist at the center of the room as he started fighting the purple masked monster. Its many tendrils emerge from its dark robe like spears, striking with an incredible ferocity that puts the monsters we fought earlier to shame.

My presence doesn't bother the purple masked thing as it divides roughly a third of its attention toward me. Rubbery tentacles reach out not to grab or hit but to slice, the creature tightening its limbs to a frightening blade like shape that nearly cuts Drist several times. He's dodging and parrying the attacks with the one dagger he recovered from his initial attack, but things aren't looking good.

I come in with a blow from my sword, trading several small cuts to my body for one attack that removes a tendril off the beast. It shifts its form to replace the tentacle whilst the part I severed hits the ground with a wet slap.

"Don't let it cut you, kid!" Drist snaps.

My ability to answer him is hindered as I block a single tentacle with my sword while having to twist to get away from the other strikes. It doesn't stop, swinging its blade shaped arms toward me without any room to strike back. My left side is particularly cut up now. Blood is leaking from the tears in my clothing and skin. I have to step back out of range whilst Drist occupies it.

He hisses as a strike hits his face. I catch my breath, shocked to see Drist sweating. He's been fighting like a machine all this time. Infallible, and capable of killing things that would take three or four regular soldiers. Now he's getting nicked by this monster who wears a purple mask, its expression a blushing mockery of ecstasy with an unsettling large tongue.

I tighten my grip and return to the fight to back up Drist. This time the monster is forced to split its attention evenly between both of us. Drist manages to slice a few tentacles off his side while I cut another. The tide is changing as we force our way through, that is until I hear a scream from our right.

I disengage partly, keeping my blade held at the side the monster has been striking, whilst looking over my shoulder. Miss Hawthorne is bloodied and standing on unsteady legs. The white masked monster facing her has its gooey body shaped into spiked club-like forms. Leah is the one who screamed, sobbing over Henry, who looks even worse than Miss Hawthorne. His body is a mess of gore. There's so much blood pooling around him and on the monster's appendages.

"Focus, kid!"

My lapse in attention costs me as the monster swings its blade shaped arm at me from my blind spot. My sword blocks the attack's force, but it slides up and I feel it cut my neck. My breath comes out heavy and hot as I feel a cold sensation on my neck. Drist is too busy to pay attention to me. I bring a shaky hand up to find my neck is gushing blood.

Fuck. I reach into my pouch for a potion, pulling it out and uncorking the thing as fast as I can. Unfortunately fast isn't enough—the purple masked monster swings a sharp tentacle at the right angle to cut my hand, making me drop the bottle to the hard wooden floor.

The potion shatters. I'm still losing blood, and I feel woozy.

My footing fails me as I stumble to the ground with a thud. I see Drist look at me with wide eyes before having to put all his attention into fighting the gooey masked beast. They were trading blows before, but now it is a one sided assault. Drist is forced to step back repeatedly as he fights the thing.

I don't have anymore potions on me. A look toward Kingsley and Dick reveals the two of them are struggling just as much as everyone else. Their monster is spreading its body thin across the floor and grabbing at their feet.

Everything looks a bit off now that I'm lying here with my life draining out of a wound on my neck. Like none of it makes sense. We traded so much to get this far, and now the dungeon demands more from us still? Just what could be worth this great a sacrifice?

I start to laugh, a gravely choked laugh that no one will hear.

My body feels numb and somewhat cold as I start dragging myself toward the chest. We were fighting so close to our objective, and if I'm going to die I'd rather know what we were missing out on. White spots dance in my vision as I force the chest open.

Inside I see a horde of treasure. Glittering gems and coins, all worth a magnitude only well established nobles can dream of. Even Lord Fredrick never had this much wealth to his name. Something about that feels ironic in this moment.

Of course, the most fascinating thing in the box is the big blue glowing gem. It's so unique, shining like it is somehow special compared to the more mundane gemstones that surround it. I reach out a shaking pale hand and take hold of the gem. It takes all the strength I have to lift it up, and my mouth opens slightly as I realize this is no gem—it is a staff, topped with a large blue glowing jewel.

Oh no. Those stars dancing in my sight have gotten worse, now a blue sparkle that swirls in the air like snow blowing on winter wind. I turn and slump against the chest with the strange staff in my lap. My eyes follow the blue lights as they dance, swirling closely to my comrades as they fight losing battles. Miss Hawthorne has just been hit so hard she hit a wall. I doubt she will make it much longer if she is still alive.

What's funny is how the stars dancing in my sight coalesce on her body. How every body in the room has such an abundance of blue light.

If only I could fight. If only I could rip those damned gooey creatures apart. My hand clenches over the staff as I feel myself grow colder. I want to kill these monsters. I want to save my allies, but I can't. I watch the blue sparks swirling in and around the white masked monster as it approaches a pitiful sobbing Leah. It is going to kill her, like a farmer does livestock. She's not even looking at it.

"Why can't you just die?" I mutter.

Blue light flies away from the white monster like an explosion only I can see. I grin slightly as in my near death hallucination I watch the white masked monster explode in a shower of goop, its mask falling to the floor with a clatter. Its wobbly body splatters the walls and ceiling with enough force to stick to them. At least I get to watch a happy ending, even if it isn't real.

My vision is getting fuzzy. Hard to see, but I look. Drist is still fighting the purple masked one. He's got so many cuts on his body. His face is probably going to be scarred from that fight if he makes it out. If I could I'd pop that purple masked one like I would the white masked one, or maybe I'd pull it apart like taffy.

"Not funny when its you, is it?"

I chuckle hoarsely as I watch my delusions continue, the purple masked monster pulls like honey from comb. Its sharp appendages fall away as it tears. The blue motes filling the monster fold in on themselves before it turns into a sad little puddle on the ground.

Oh, I think I'm finally done for. My head is starting to feel better. Little blue stars come toward me like water swirling down a drain. They say when you're about to die you feel an odd sense of clarity. I think I get what they mean now.

I murmur softly to myself "One last fantasy…"

The green masked monster who's been slowly strangling both Kingsley and Dick suddenly stops. I watch with amusement as it twists, its gooey body ripping itself up off the floor and tearing into little chunks before falling back down lifelessly.

I take a deep breath, watching the blue motes come toward me. They almost remind me of ducklings. Each little shining blue light obediently following its mother—or I guess, the one who dreamt them up. I close my eyes and let myself rest.

The black of death comes, gently wrapping me in its embrace as I let my mind go silent.