by Kayla Krantz
“You have to be kidding me,” he said.
“Now, like any other game of D&D, you’re free to do what you like inside the dungeon but let me give you a hint here. Don’t leave the cave,” Rhys warned. “If you think he sounds scary, you won’t like what he looks like. I promise you that.”
Jack said nothing, but the frightened expression didn’t change. He loosened his grip, allowing the color to come back to his skin.
“Now that you’re in the cave and determined that the valuables are real, what do you do, Jack?” he asked.
“I would personally say good game, turn around, and go home, but that’s not an option I can use here,” he said, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he moved over to the nearest stalagmite, tapping his foot against it. It was sturdy, but when Jack aimed a kick toward its middle, he froze.
“Good choice to try to make a weapon,” Rhys said overhead. “Let’s see if it’s successful.”
Jack’s foot moved again, breaking the tower in half.
“It appears your weapon search was successful. You are now armed with a sharp steady stalagmite. Paladin, we turn back to you,” Rhys said.
“Well, I’d be a fool to go farther without a weapon too, right?” Shawn asked, scanning the possibilities before him. “So, I’ll do the same.” He moved over to a stalagmite near the one Jack had broken. He tried to copy the move his friend had used, finding himself frozen midway through.
“Your hunt wasn’t successful,” came Rhys’ voice.
Shawn’s foot continued to move, but the stalagmite didn’t break. Pain shot up his leg, and he howled stepping down awkwardly on a large stone. Right then and there, he was ready to call it quits. When he looked up, he caught Milo and Jack’s eyes on him and deflated a bit. In his head, he had always considered himself to be the leader of the group, but he wasn’t reflecting that now when his friends needed him the most. What kind of a leader would he be if he simply folded in on himself?
“I’ll use this then,” Shawn said, scooping up the rock he had slid on to hide his moment of despair.
“Okay, good. Ranger? Your move.”
“The same as my friends. I need something too. Especially if we’re going to go up against a demon,” he said. “Except, I don’t want to search for a weapon. I want to make a weapon with one of the gemstones that we’ve come across.” He walked over to a shining purple fleck in the crevice where the cave wall met the floor and scooped it up.
“Ah, now that’s an interesting move. Let’s see if it’s successful,” Rhys said. The clatter of the dice sounded. “Yes. It seems you are successfully able to craft a spear of any gemstone that you choose.”
Milo nodded, and the tiny piece of amethyst grew into a spear before their eyes.
“It’s done,” Rhys said. “Rogue, you’re up again.”
“We’re all armed and ready for battle,” Jack said. “I guess that means the only thing there is for us to do is to go on against whatever it is making the noise.”
“Okay. The travelers go onward into the cave, the darkness consuming them as the guttural roars fill their ears. They estimate that there are plenty of opponents inside the chamber, but they don’t know exactly everything that will cross their path.”
“Is he going to do this the entire time we’re here?” Jack murmured under his breath. “He does know we’re capable of seeing, right?”
Shawn shrugged. Whether Rhys narrated their adventure or not wasn’t his concern. As far as he was concerned, if Rhys was busy telling the story, he wouldn’t be busy doing other terrible things. Shawn shivered then, suddenly thinking of Penelope. He hoped she would sense something was wrong and would look for him.
Even if she did, she would never find me, he thought, and it hit him hard.
The thought that he and his friends could potentially be trapped in this strange otherworld forever filled him with soul-crushing despair that he wasn’t used to feeling. Subtly, Shawn glanced at Jack and Milo from the corner of his eye. Jack’s face was creased in concentration, and he held his weapon up, battle-ready as could be. Beside him, Milo’s lips were pursed, and his face downcast, but he looked fierce in his own way.
If they can do it, I can too, he thought.
Shawn hardly has a chance to move before a stalagmite was knocked to the floor, crashing to pieces beside him. An ear-slitting roar filled the cave, and then a blast of fire.
“Is that a dragon?” Jack screeched and cursed.
Another blast of fire, and a shadowy creature hurried toward them. Shawn couldn’t bring himself to move as he stared at it. From his crouched position, he could see the scales covering its body, its blunt face and beady black eyes embedded into pits in his face.
“It’s not any dragon,” Jack said, scooping up a fist-sized rock. “It’s the Nidhogg, the dragon from Norse mythology who eats the roots of Yggdrasil.”
Greed, Shawn thought, jumping out of the way a second before the beast’s claws sliced through the air. The blast of air from its wings almost knocked him off his feet.
“It’s great we know what it is,” Shawn said, regaining himself. “But how do we beat it?”
The dragon turned, roaring before it pivoted toward them, its massive wings, knocking them all to the ground that time.
“Time’s a-wastin’, boys!” Rhys’ voice came over the roars.
“What can we do?” Milo echoed Shawn.
“Answers are always put in the game,” Shawn said, eyes darting around frantically. That was something video games had taught him. It was clear that Rhys wasn’t going to help them. If they wanted to get out alive, they would have to do it themselves. Shawn’s eyes came to rest on the bag slung across Jack’s body. “What did he give you?”
Jack’s eyes dropped to it. Fingers fumbling, he worked at the zipper, the dragon swooping toward Milo. Milo rolled out the way, the torch clattering to the rocks before going out, and the beast crashed into the cave floor with such an impact that Shawn was sure it must’ve knocked itself unconscious. It didn’t, the beating of its wings filling the cave.
“Hurry!” Milo screamed.
“Ah, I’m trying,” he replied, the clatter of objects ringing out as he dug into the depths of his bag. His fingers wrapped around a cylinder, the silver item glinting in the light of the dragon’s fire before he tossed that aside too.
“Wait!” Milo said, crawling toward it.
Before anyone else could speak, he raised it to his lips. Sweet dulcet notes came out, bouncing around the cave walls, and the dragon stopped at once.
Jack blinked, eyes stretching wide before he looked between the dragon and Milo. “It’s working!”
Shawn was so relieved, he clapped. Milo hardly stopped to breath, the musical tones continuing in a rhythm though the volume grew softer and softer. As it did, the dragon dropped lower in the sky before at last it landed. The woosh of air from its majestic wings before it folded them over its body stunned Shawn almost as much as the next minute when it fell asleep.
Milo played a moment longer before he stopped, peering at the sleeping dragon with the flute still raised as if he were ready to start again at any miniscule movement the creature might make. It didn’t stir, and Milo shakily handed the instrument back to Jack.
“It’s dark,” Jack said, and by the ruffling sounds, Shawn guessed he was putting the flute back into a safe place.
“The dragon put out the torch,” Milo said from somewhere in the darkness.
“That sucks, but at least we’re alright,” Shawn said as they tiptoed around the massive form of the dragon. He was so big that they had to press themselves against the wall to avoid stepping on any part of him. “That was a close one. Too close for my liking.”
Up close, Shawn could smell the dragon, the musty stench mixed with that of charcoal and dirt. He had to hold his breath to keep himself from gagging on the smell. Once it was behind them, they let themselves relax just a bit. That is until another unearthly roar sounded from somewher
e deeper in the cave. It was the same one they had heard before the Nidhogg made its appearance.
“You’re nowhere near finished,” Rhys informed them. “This first beast was a simple taste of what’s to come.”
Jack shot a scathing glance to the ceiling. “You’ve told us something similar already,” he grumbled and wiped at his cheek without saying anything.
“What do you think this demon will look like?” Milo asked softly. “A shadow with red eyes?”
Shawn shook his head. “If the Nidhogg is a sign of anything, I think we should expect something similar.”
“I hope so,” Jack said. When Shawn shot him a confused glance, he added, “If that’s the case, we already know how to take it down.” He patted his bag for added effect.
A nervous laugh left Milo’s lips. “I never thought the research we did for a game would help save our lives.”
“Me either,” Jack admitted. “To think, Mom says I waste my time with this.”
Shawn didn’t want to acknowledge the irony. Instead, he thought of the quiet evening he could be having with Penelope at home instead.
Once they were all successfully past the dragon, they huddled together, squinting through the darkness. Up ahead, there was a glint of light, the beams reflecting off the stalagmites and occasional gems until the light had no choice but to disappear into the darkness.
“Looking to one another a last time, the boys decide to walk through the shadows,” Rhys voice drifted to them.
Jack huffed, but they did as Rhys instructed. Something about the narrative comforted Shawn, and he had the feeling that his earlier thought had been right—as long as Rhys was talking, they were safe. It was the silence they had to fear.
“Up ahead they spot the entrance to a chamber. Peering just an inch inside shows how different this is from the rest of the cave. There are piles of gems at the entrance.”
Jack flared his nostrils again. “Hey, demon whiz? We can take in the scene for ourselves.”
“But a proper Game Master always has to set the scene,” he argued.
“You’ve done more than a proper job of it,” Shawn said, glancing slightly into the opening to see the gems that Rhys had promised would be there.
“Fair enough. If you come across something confusing, or don’t know how to proceed, don’t blame me. The hints were in the narrative.”
“That might be, but I’m tired of hearing you,” Jack replied.
“Are we ready to go in?” Milo asked, voice softer with each word.
“Not as if we have a real choice,” Jack said and took the first step inside, Milo and Shawn trailing behind him.
The few scattered gems they could see at the entrance had been nothing compared to the rest of the scene. There were piles of gold, silver, bronze, jewels, and shiny things that Shawn didn’t even know the names of. The floor and walls sparkled with the treasures. The smells of the metals combined with the musty cave air created a unique scent that Shawn was sure he’d never smell again.
An unearthly roar sounded again, so loud that it bounced around the walls, the jewels, and hit Shawn with such an intensity that he didn’t trust his feet to keep him standing. Beside him, Milo and Jack struggled to keep their balance as well. Through half-lidded eyes, Shawn looked up across the room, desperate to see the source of the sound. When he did, he took in a breath and held it, wishing he would’ve kept his eyes on the ground.
Whenever he thought of the word demon, nothing good came to mind, of course, but Mammon was something straight out of a nightmare. It was tall, the top of its horned head nearly brushing the ceiling, and so thin that its ribs stuck out at odd angles down the length of its abdomen. Its skin was so clear that Shawn could see the purple nearly black veins racing everywhere across it. On its head there were ridges, not unlike the kind he had imagined on a velociraptor. In the place there should’ve been eyes, there was scaly skin, the same texture running over its hands. As if those traits didn’t make it nightmarish enough, its hands ended in two long claws each, and there were bat-like wings sprouting out of its back.
The creature looked like a young child’s attempt at drawing a monster, except it was terrifying because this was a living breathing being. When it stopped roaring, its head swiveled from side to side as if it were sensing something in the air. Shawn’s attention was drawn to the blank skin where its eyes should be. It was blind. Most likely, it could hear them, and from that it had gathered they were close, but it wasn’t sure exactly how close.
“This is the first of your demons,” Rhys said, confirming Shawn’s thoughts.
“Whoa,” Milo breathed.
The creature’s face moved in his direction, and he reached up, slapping a hand over his mouth. Judging by the looks on his face and Jack’s, Shawn guessed they had figured out its weakness too. Looking it over didn’t make him feel better though. Sure the creature couldn’t see them coming but would it matter when it could crush them with an ill-timed swat of one of its freakish hands?
Shawn’s mouth went dry. Now that he had picked apart the scene, the only thing left to do was fight, but how in the world could they face something so unreal, something so beyond them?
“Paladin, we start with you,” Rhys said.
Shawn swallowed, feeling as if Rhys had called him out because he could hear every one of Shawn’s insecurities. The beast turned its head in his direction, and Shawn worried his bladder would let loose. He had never felt such fear in his life, never thought it possible. The rock in his hand felt the size of a pebble.
“Paladin?”
Shawn breathed in, glancing to his companions beside him. Milo and Jack were watching him with matching expressions, their own weapons seeming just as silly now that they knew what they were up against. Steeling his nerves, Shawn clutched the rock tighter and charged forward, weapon lifted above his head. The creature’s face was angled in his direction, but its body still faced toward Milo. Shawn aimed his attack toward the crook of the beast’s ugly leg, but just as he got in range, it turned.
“Ooh, bad move on your part,” Rhys called in a sing-song taunt.
The creature’s wing struck out, hitting Shawn in the side of the face with such force that he was sent flying toward the piles of gold and metal below. The scales on the wing were rough like sandpaper, and he screamed out, wondering if it had taken the top layer of skin from his face. Before he landed, he twisted himself, knowing the impact would be bad, but he didn’t anticipate the surge of pain radiating through his skull from one particularly ill-placed piece of metal. Once he landed, he couldn’t convince any part of him to move. It was easier to just lie there, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of every failure he had experienced over the course of his life. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at the creature though its roar told him it had moved subtly closer.
He had the horrified thought that like an animal, it would be drawn to the smell of blood. It was only after that realization hit him that the feeling of a hot sticky substance across his cheek, head, and neck came to him full force. The cave around him started to swirl, and he didn’t fight it. He let himself slip into the blackness.
8.
“SHAWN! GET UP!” Jack called, but he didn’t approach his friend. With the demon hovering so close, Jack was sure that doing so would only end in both of them getting hurt.
“He’s not going to get up,” Rhys said, voice full of something that rubbed Milo and Jack the wrong way.
“Oh, yeah? Your magic dice tell you that?” Jack snapped.
Rhys didn’t bite. “Ranger. You’re up,” he said instead.
Milo was frozen in place, amethyst spear raised though his eyes were on Shawn’s body. His first instinct was always to help. By nature, he was a lover, not a fighter, the opposite to Jack’s shoot first, ask questions later strategy. Attacking the creature who had harmed Shawn needed to be done, but he wished there was a way he could check on Shawn first. His friend didn’t stir from the place he had landed, the gol
den coins beneath him turning a shade of copper with the smears of blood beginning to coagulate.
Eventually, Milo’s eyes moved to the freakish creature, and a rage that was very unlike him bubbled in his stomach. He thought of the evening they were supposed to have, the interaction with Rhys, the banshee, and his hurt friend. A guttural roar uttered up through his chest, and he didn’t make a move to stifle it. Jack took a step back, eyes wide. Milo noticed nothing around him as he charged forward, his feet moving easily through the holes between the piles of jewels as he charged the demon.
The batwing struck out in his direction, but Milo ducked with ease, jamming the spear into the point where the wing connected to the demon’s back. In his anger, he was focused, and that determination was deadly. A spray of blood blasted into the air, dotting across the golden pieces on the floor as Milo landed to the cave floor a few feet away. Mammon screamed out at the initial point of contact between it, and the spear, but as the moment went on, the sound grew louder, longer, more desperate. Jack narrowed his eyes against the sound, but Milo was so close that the vibrations felt as if they were rattling around his very brain.
He clamped his hands over his ears, covering the bit of mud that still clung to them from the run-in with the banshee. The creature lifted one massive foot to try and bring it down on his head, but Milo was quicker than Shawn and dodged with ease. He hopped back up to his feet, scooping up his bloody spear when it finally fell from Mammon’s skin. In a sort of weave and bob dance, he made his way around the demon as Mammon struck out with its wings and arms, desperate to cut him down any way it could. Panting with sweat running along his temples, Milo at last made it back to the safety of the cave beside Jack.
Mammon’s head swiveled back and forth, its claws swiping the air again, but the movements were slower, less intense, as if it knew that Milo had gotten away. Slowly, it took two steps closer, its feet still on the patch of cave floor on its side, and Milo wondered if it could cross over the gems or if it was just choosing not to.
