by Stead, Nick
I felt so ready to surrender myself to the Reaper. He’d been cheated from taking me through the void twice already. I didn’t think there would be a third escape. It was easy to imagine him lurking on the edge of the shadows, ready to claim me the first chance he got. And I was tired of fighting him.
But Zeerin wasn’t going to let me give up on life, and the last thing I wanted was to lose my arm instead. It seemed I had no choice but to focus on the transformation, and just pray it would fuse my severed flesh and bone back together. If it wasn’t already too late.
My form was all too willing to shift, the changes coming quicker once I stopped the weak fight I must have been subconsciously putting up. It had been a losing battle anyway.
The usual ache of bones stretching or grinding down as necessary was all but eclipsed by the agony of my severed arm. I didn’t dare look down to see if Zeerin’s theory was proving to be true or not, afraid I’d already lost it and was doomed to eternity as a cripple. Throbbing soon turned to the itch of tissue knitting itself back together, though I couldn’t be sure if that was merely the open wound of my stump closing over.
Zeerin hadn’t released his grip on what was left of my limb. That gave rise to a fresh wave of panic, nausea rising with it. The sight of that grisly stump was burned so deeply into my mind that I felt sure it would haunt me till the day my cursed life came to a bloody end. I tried to think about how I could adapt to living without one of the limbs I was so reliant on, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t picture myself living with an incomplete body, the arm I was so used to seeing and feeling permanently gone.
I’d lived with a broken mind for months after my lupine side had first awoken. Was my fate now to live as a physically broken thing instead? Was my body damaged beyond the healing capabilities of my lycanthropy, leaving me with new struggles of the flesh?
My form was growing more and more wolfish but still I couldn’t feel my left arm. There was definitely some kind of healing going on in the stump though. Panic turned to despair as I was forced to accept it was going to be a permanent disability, one that would no doubt cost me my life in our current surroundings. I supposed I should be grateful that I’d likely go down fighting in this dungeon we’d found ourselves in. It would spare me life as an amputee and allow me the end I wanted. I knew myself well enough by then to know that, in normal circumstances, I couldn’t just give up and let my enemies kill me, despite how tired I’d felt of fighting just moments ago. And I’d never been able to bring myself to end it by my own hand either. When my time came, I felt it had to be a warrior’s death, slain in battle. Perhaps that sounds more noble than a monster like me deserves, but the love of fantasy I’d had in my human life made the notion all the more appealing.
I’d all but resigned myself to my grim fate when a new sensation started on my left side. A sudden rush of warmth spread downwards from the stump, accompanied by a tingling as nerves reconnected. Words cannot describe the relief I felt when I realised Zeerin’s theory had been right after all, the regenerative power of the transformation allowing the severed flesh to meld itself back together until my arm was whole and undamaged once more. I finally allowed myself to look down at it, and was met with the odd sight of a still human limb attached to a furry shoulder. The change to the rest of my body had been happening quicker than something so extreme as a severed appendage could heal, and as a result the shape of the limb had been left behind. It couldn’t transform until it had completely reattached, just as the muscle and bone hadn’t been able to obey my commands while it lay dismembered at my feet.
I’d almost shifted to full wolf form before the severed tissue fused back onto the rest of me. There was so much for my body to repair that it took several minutes, all those structures like tendons and ligaments having to rebuild and re-forge themselves, not to mention the nerves that had to regrow. I suspected it might have been quicker if the limb hadn’t been completely sliced off, since the change would have spread across whatever was left hanging on. Then the severed part would no doubt have reattached as easily as cuts knitted back together. It was only down to my arm being completely detached and unable to change that it happened so much slower.
I stared at my newly attached limb with a kind of awe. More relief swept through me when I flexed my fingers and found everything to be fully functional. The feeling had returned and the transformation was beginning to spread down its length in the same way that the initial sensations had spread from the stump. But I stopped the shapeshift before it could go any further and reversed most of the changes, allowing my body to become mostly humanoid again. Taking my full wolf form didn’t seem right in our current situation. For one thing, it would mean not being able to talk to Zeerin, unless he knew how to speak the wolven tongue like Lady Sarah. And for another, with all the puzzles we were having to solve, I felt opposable thumbs would be more useful than prowling round on all fours.
My flesh settled into its hybrid form, and the temporary feeling of renewed strength gave way to more weariness. The blood loss had still taken its toll, even though I was fully healed, and the hunger was back, my body demanding I take in more energy to replace what I’d just used up. I slumped back against the wall, tired and wanting to rest before moving on.
Zeerin was trying to be patient, but I could tell he was itching to continue through the dungeon. I supposed I couldn’t blame him. His hunger must also be calling him to the hunt, which meant escaping to the outside world where prey was plentiful. I hadn’t even noticed him withdrawing his cold hands from my fevered, shifting flesh, but he must have released his grip on my arm when it became part of me again.
“We should keep moving,” he said.
I snorted. “I don’t know how it works for you vampires – whether you can trick your body into not sleeping if you’re kept in constant darkness, instead of being forced into shelter to hide from the dawn. But my body can’t just turn off those functions. And right now, I really need to sleep and recover some strength, or I’m not going to be much more use to you than I was before I healed. Fresh water would be nice now as well.”
“It might not be safe to rest here. The Slayers could have placed something else for us to fight just beyond this room.” His gaze wandered to the tunnel ahead and his hand strayed to his cutlass. “Better to keep going than be caught here napping. I’m sure there’ll be more rooms like this, where we find ourselves locked in for as long as it takes to discover the way out; as soon as that happens and we know it’s safe, we can stop to rest.”
“Next time you can hack off a limb,” I growled, but I didn’t argue with his logic. I forced myself back to my feet, my body feeling heavy and unresponsive after all the physical exertion it had been put through. If Zeerin was right and we did encounter more enemies, I didn’t think I had another fight in me. Not without being given the chance to feed again first. And somehow I doubted I’d be so lucky.
My tired muscles continued to protest as I bullied one leg to move in front of the other, until I found myself in the doorway I’d paid to open with blood and pain. Had it been worth my sacrifice or was it only more of the same lying ahead, with no hope of finding freedom? There was only one way to find out.
I took the final step through to the next tunnel, Zeerin by my side. And it was there we found our first clue as to what was going on.
More letters shone between the fake flame torches, written in what was unmistakably fresh blood this time. We paused by those two words, Zeerin frowning as he struggled to piece together their significance. I thought I had a good idea though.
“Level Two,” I read out loud.
As a gamer in my human life, that meant only one thing. For whatever sadistic reason, the Slayers had built a game for us to play our way through. But unlike the video games with extra lives and save points giving us another chance to beat the level whenever we made a mistake, this was reality. We had only our own lives to play with. If either of us lost that life then that would be it, game over. Ma
ybe the Slayers would kill us anyway, even if we beat the game, but if we were to have any hope of escaping, it seemed we had to play our way through each level till we reached the end. And I suddenly had a good idea what that end would be – a thought that filled me with dread.
CHAPTER FIVE
A Glimpse of Hell
I tore my gaze away from the gruesome letters and turned my attention back to the tunnel ahead. There wasn’t enough light to see what might be lurking at the end of it but I stared into the darkness anyway, as if the fury blazing in my eyes could burn away the shadows and force them to reveal their secrets. The physical exhaustion was still there, my anger flickering in response like flames buffeted by the wind, but I let my rage burn closer to the surface nevertheless. If I’d guessed right at the trials we still faced then I’d need it before the game was through. I just hoped it would be enough to fuel my tired body, until I was given an opportunity to rest and recuperate some of my strength.
Zeerin was looking at me, perhaps sensing the mixed emotions I was grappling with. “You understand this message?”
I met his gaze. “It means I wasn’t far off when I said it’s like we’re in Dungeons and Dragons. I think the Slayers have created some kind of a labyrinth for us to play our way through, like a real life version of the kind of games I played in my human life. If I’m right, there’ll be so many levels for us to work our way through until we reach the end, each level more difficult than the last.”
He frowned. “A game? That makes no sense. What purpose does this serve?”
“Fuck knows; maybe a group of them were bored and wanted to create some new kind of entertainment. I’ve seen enough to know they have plenty of sick members who’d get off on watching us suffer through something like this. And they clearly have the money for it.”
“The saner members of their faction would surely object to such a waste of time and resources. If they had enough sense, they’d want us to be killed, instead of taken alive merely for sport.”
“I suppose, but if the mastermind behind all this could get enough people on board, maybe they were able to make it happen without telling the majority. What does it matter? Somehow this place was built, and I’m sure I’m right about it being a game we have to play through. That means we have to be careful each time we enter a new level. Ideally we want to be as near to full strength as possible, if we’re to stand any chance at beating whatever challenges the Slayers have created for us.”
Zeerin didn’t look convinced, but he remained cautious as we advanced further down the tunnel. This one ended in a T-junction, the intersecting passage equally dark and uninviting in both directions. We came to a stop as we decided which way to go.
Even with our supernaturally enhanced senses, we couldn’t detect anything beyond the dinginess of the electric flames. The stench on the air continued to block out all other scents we might have gained clues from, and there were no sounds coming from either the left or the right. I assumed one tunnel led to a dead end and the other to more puzzles for us to solve, or enemies for us to fight. But it seemed we would just have to explore and find out which was the right way for ourselves.
The vampire looked to me to make the decision, probably assuming my knowledge of modern day games would be of more use than his experience built on ages past.
“Let’s try left,” I said. “We might have to navigate our way through a maze now, so we need to keep track of which way we go.”
The flickering of the fake torches seemed all the more eerie once we’d made our choice, doubt nagging at me with every step we took. What if I’d made the wrong decision and I was leading us into a trap? There was no way of knowing what lay ahead. If luck was on our side then we were going in the right direction to progress through the level, but if I’d picked badly I could be leading us to our doom. The Slayers might not care if we reached the end. They might be happy for us to die sooner, as long as it was entertaining enough for them. They might be bored of us already and looking for new players to take our places. If that was the case, the next fight could well be our last, especially in our current conditions. We’d only survived the room with the zombies because the Slayers had chosen to cut the flow of dark power reanimating them, presumably because they wanted us to suffer through more of the game before we met our end. But if they were now bored of us then we may not be so lucky in the next encounter.
My footfalls had grown a lot lighter as a result of embracing my lupine half, yet each step still sounded far too loud in my ears. I padded as quietly as I could but there nothing I could do about the unavoidable clack of my claws on stone, and my heart was still far too loud and fast, my breathing shallow and uneven. Any creature with senses superior to a human would have no trouble picking up on my approach. Zeerin was able to move quieter in comparison, but even he made the odd sound to alert enemies to our presence.
We hadn’t gone far when I motioned for him to stop, holding my breath as I listened intently. I’d thought I’d heard something ahead and sure enough, there came the sound again, just moments later. Something was moving in the gloom. I squinted into the shadows until I could make out a dark shape there. It was impossible to tell in that weak light what it was, but I got the impression it was big, my mind’s eye picturing some shadowy creature hunched in a space far too cramped for it. Then the sound of heavy footfalls filled the passage and the fear inducing stench grew stronger still. Whatever this thing was, with its scent that smelled so wrong and its presence that dominated the dungeon we were imprisoned in, it was on the move. And it was coming straight for us.
Fear took over, my fight or flight state I’d been trapped in reaching new heights. Weariness gave way to terror, and my tired muscles flooded with icy panic. It drove them to action and fuelled the burst of speed as I dropped to all fours and bounded back the way we’d come. Zeerin turned away as well, fighting out of the question against such a foe. We might not know what it was, but when it felt so wrong on such a primal level, we weren’t going to question our instincts.
A part of me hated having to flee though. I wasn’t used to the feeling of fear anymore, so accustomed as I’d become to being the one inspiring the terror. And yet, even the greatest of predators can be forced to turn scavenger or become prey, the balance of nature always changing. Not that this thing was in any way natural, nor were we for that matter. But even in the supernatural world, I guessed the same rules must apply from time to time. As powerful a beast as my lycanthropy made me, I was again forced to accept that I wasn’t at the top of the paranormal food chain. So we ran, my ears filled with the thundering of my own heartbeat once more.
Louder still were the booming steps of that thing drawing ever closer. A human might have been tempted to look back to see how close their pursuer was, but my mind had become too animalistic to make such a human mistake. I kept my eyes forward, focused only on the chase and the ground ahead, my paw-like hands and feet gripping the stone beneath them with ease. And yet, I was all too aware of my pursuer closing in.
We raced past the passage we’d come from, forced to rush further into the unknown as we continued along in the opposite direction. For all we knew, there was something lying in wait down there as well. But what choice did we have? To stay and fight something which undoubtedly wielded a great deal of power (for what else could induce such fear in two creatures of the night?) would surely be certain death. All we could do was run, and pray there was nothing else lurking at the end of that tunnel.
New despair engulfed me as a dead end came into view. With nowhere left to run, it seemed we had no choice but to face this dread thing. And die brutally, like so many had to my own jaws.
The same grim realisation seemed to sink in for Zeerin, his hands reaching for his pistols. But it looked like the Slayers were going to offer us salvation after all. The stone panel cutting off our escape ground into life, sliding upwards to reveal another chamber. Triggered by some motion sensor, perhaps?
Zeerin had already begun
to turn to face our foe as I dived under it, so I grabbed his arm and pulled. The door had just risen high enough for me to pull him through the opening, my right foot stepping down on another pressure pad which caused the panel to reverse direction. I couldn’t see anything before the door closed, sealing us in.
It took me a few moments to recover enough to ask “Did you see what it was?”
Zeerin opened his mouth to answer, when a roar sounded from the other side of the door. It was like nothing I’d ever heard before, so full of hate and pain, and a fury to rival my own. But the effect it had on us was something I could never hope to create with my own voice: that feeling of being utterly powerless, as if I’d been turned from a wolf to a rabbit, my natural weapons reduced to blunt instruments utterly useless against the thing that hunted us. All I could do was whimper and shake, my bestial hands clamped firmly over my ears in an attempt to shut out the terrible cries. If it had been able to get at us, I have no doubt that it would have ripped me apart while I writhed pitifully on the floor. Even the vampire was caught in the icy grip of terror, covering his own ears and screaming like a human.
It felt like we were trapped in the thing’s agonised voice for an age, but in reality it was probably only moments before, mercifully, the horrific sound died down. Only when it fell silent were we able to creep back into a rational state of mind.
Zeerin was quicker to recover. He uncurled from the ball he’d rolled into and took his hands away from his ears, slowly getting back to his feet with shaking limbs. I took a few minutes longer to pick myself up, but when something heavy crashed into the other side of the stone I couldn’t help but whine and shrink away. Fortunately the door held, though how long for was anyone’s guess.
