Dungeons and Demons

by Kayla Krantz

Milo broke the connection first, turning to Jack. “If you see another one of those things, kill it.”

  Jack and Shawn exchanged baffled glances but followed behind him as he led the way out of the room. It’s true that everyone had their breaking point. Shawn understood that whatever had happened had pushed Milo past his. Milo hardly even looked at them, trudging forward with his fingers wrapped around his tiny scalpel as if he couldn’t wait to sink it into the first thing he saw. Shawn wasn’t used to seeing such ferocity in his friend, and the more he watched him, the more he was sure that he didn’t want to know what had happened. He would give him his space, positive that the topic of Milo’s solo adventure would come up again before the end of their journey came.

  “What now?” Jack asked, staring at the back of Milo’s head as he trotted at Shawn’s side.

  “Same mission as before,” Milo said, wiping his mouth with the back of the hand not clutching the small silver tool. “Let’s find this demon and get out of here.”

  “Yeah, and hopefully, no more drudes,” Shawn said with another sympathetic glance to his friend.

  Milo pursed his lips but said nothing. Shawn wanted to take his place at the front of the pack but forced himself to stay behind Milo. It was clear that his friend had a personal vendetta—only a person on a mission moved like he was—and he would be a fool if he got in the way of that. After all, the only thing fueling Shawn on at that point was fear.

  Shawn swallowed and glanced up at the ceiling through his lashes, almost expecting Rhys to make some kind of comment on what had happened. If anyone was going to rat out Milo, it would be him, but he was silent.

  “I think I’m going to lose my mind if I see a bed ever again after this,” Jack said, frowning at the newest room as they passed it. There were twin beds against either side of the wall. For Shawn, they reminded him of his time in foster care, and that made the beds less appealing.

  “I’m definitely going to think twice about sitting in one place for too long,” Shawn agreed.

  “You’re telling me,” Milo murmured, hand reaching up to brush his abdomen again.

  Shawn didn’t question the movement. He kept his eyes on the path ahead, studying the set of double doors that made it impossible to see what lie ahead. Milo stormed forward but stopped just before he reached them, hand hovering in midair as if he were second guessing his entire plan...if he even had one at all.

  “What’s wrong?” Shawn asked.

  “This looks like the setup for a boss battle,” Milo replied, turning to look at him over his shoulder.

  Jack sniffed. “It would definitely be time for it. Last demon took half the amount of time to find, Nidhogg not included.”

  Shawn swallowed, trying to hide his panic at the thought of another, more potentially dangerous sleep demon. If the little drude had been capable of inflicting such fear in Milo, what could a creature ten times its size do to them? Shawn shivered, thinking of how useless he had been in the last fight.

  You can be a human shield if nothing else, he reminded himself.

  It wasn’t glorious by any means, but Milo had been through enough, and he would never risk the life of Jack, his best friend. Taking in a breath, Shawn held his chin high as he passed Milo, setting his hand on the golden doorknob.

  “Only way to get this over with will be to face it head on,” he said and wrapped his fingers around the knob, pulling the door open.

  He led the way inside, Jack right on his heels, but Milo hesitated. He squeezed his eyes shut, face angled to the floor, before he opened his eyes again and followed close behind. Shawn would be lying if he said that wasn’t fear. It was fear in its rawest form, terror, and Shawn had new admiration for his friend.

  The floor beneath their feet turned to a soft material the deeper into the room they traveled, and Shawn was reminded of a padded room. Just like in a padded room, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all white. Squinting, he dragged his eyes from one corner of the room to the other.

  In the middle of the room was a bed just as they had expected to find. It was a huge four poster monstrosity that made Shawn sleepy just looking at. Like the rest of the room, it was all white. Shawn could imagine how comfortable it must be and found himself itching to lie on it, even for just a moment. Remembering the incident with the couch and the drude, the look on Milo’s face when he woke and the splatter of blood across his shirt, was enough for Shawn to battle the urge.

  For a second, the boys didn’t say anything, didn’t move.

  The curtain around the bed slowly began to swish open, and a creature peered at them. It looked somewhere between the drudes they had seen and the first demon they had slain. It was heavy, its belly protruding from his abdomen and horns protruding from its head. It squinted at them from a fuzzy face, and Shawn didn’t breathe. It looked like a troll, and he wondered if this was really Belphegor or just another challenge Rhys had thrown into the dungeon to keep them on their toes.

  The longer Shawn stared at it, the more he expected a hiss or a growl, some kind of hostile noise, but as the creature gazed back at them, it let out a contented purr as if it was nothing more than a deformed cat. It slithered out of the bed, rising higher and higher with each inch it moved off the bed. Milo and Jack took two careful steps backward, but Shawn stood in place. It was for this reason that the beast turned its beady eyes to him. The fuzzy places on its face hardened, lengthening into something like the pinchers on a beetle. The little arms clacked together as they opened and closed as if the creature was trying to communicate with him.

  Shawn swallowed, taking a step backward. Beside him, Jack was rifling through his bag, items flying in every direction, but it seemed as if everything he pulled out was insignificant. Halfway through his search, music began to play, and Shawn looked up. It was loud, each note nearly drilling into his brain, and he reached up to cover his ears. Like Milo with the banshee, it did little good. He could still hear the music through his hands.

  Perhaps the worst part was that with each drilling note, the pain was becoming more pronounced, and so was the exhaustion in his body. He could feel every nerve, muscle, and tendon weakening as if his very organs were liquifying themselves. Shawn narrowed his eyes to try and look at his companions. Milo had slathered a brown paste over his ears from his bag, the covers looking like the ones that had saved him from the Banshee. He was the only one who didn’t look as if he was about to melt. Between them, Jack was on his knees, blood dripping between his fingers. Just when Shawn thought it couldn’t get any worse, the music grew louder. Milo looked from Shawn to Jack before he took a step backward. One more and then he turned on his heels to flee.

  Shawn watched a second longer before the world around him cut to black.

  13.

  MILO REALLY DIDN’T know what Rhys was trying to prove by once again giving him the upper hand in a situation that seemed like an otherwise lost cause, but he wasn’t going to argue with the opportunity. He had an idea, and as his feet pounded down the corridor, he knew he had limited time to pull it off. A giant clock ticked down at the front of his brain and just behind that was his goal—the goal which seemed so simple, but if it failed meant they would all fail. Heart thudding, he skidded into the room with the video game consoles and the majestic couch.

  The sight of the couch was enough to bring up a panic attack. He didn’t want to sit on it, didn’t want to go anywhere near the place where the drude had taken him over. Just looking at it reminded him of the phantom pain in his stomach, and he wrapped his arms around himself. There wasn’t time for him to second guess himself. He thought of Shawn and Jack on the ground, the blood leaking between their fingers as their very brains were damaged.

  His next move wasn’t hard to decide then. Like a stone, he let himself drop down onto the surface, the fibers bouncing him back up slightly before he settled. As he sat there, he was prepared to throw himself off at the slightest sign of movement.

  Come on, he thought, tapping his foot. Exhaustion st
arted to creep over him, but he fought it back. His plan wasn’t working as well as he had hoped it would, but he wouldn’t accept failure. Not yet. I can do this.

  It didn’t take long for the scurrying sounds filled his ears, and he was relieved as the first of the hellish cherubs made an appearance. There weren’t nearly as many as there had been when Shawn and Jack were with him, but there were still enough that it could be fatal if he made one wrong move. I disemboweled myself. I can do this, he told himself though something in him told him that the disemboweling had been easier than this would be.

  Milo sprang up from the couch as the lead cherub got closer. He didn’t want to touch the thing, convinced that it would spell him back into a slumber if he did, but he needed it. The ugly things skittered all around him, and it began a frantic dance that consisted of Milo trying to grab one and avoid the rest. Desperate to make space as the circle began to close in, Milo grabbed the nearest thing to him which happened to be a lamp from the end table next to the couch. Rearing his arm back, he winged it into the things, making a space wide enough for him to dash through.

  One of the ugly creatures fell to the floor with a splat. The twitch of its wings told him it was alive, the green slime of its blood dripping to the floor beneath it. It was probably the worst plan he’d ever had, but it was better than nothing. Milo reached for it, scooping it up, and cradling it to his chest with its hands facing away from him. It smelled of smoke and sulfur, and he had a minute where he wondered if that was what Hell itself smelt like. Burning flesh. Against himself, he retched and bit back the urge to vomit. As he ran from the rest of the drudes, the beast in his arms hardly stirred, but he didn’t trust it.

  Milo had hoped that snatching up one of the pack would cause the rest to leave, but they continued to pursue him as he ran down the hall, toward the double doors that barred Belphegor’s room from the rest of the hall. He had the sudden realization that the creatures would only stop their chase once they inflicted their curse which meant, like it or not, his fan club would stay with him. Breathing heavy with exertion, Milo forced himself to keep going, wary of the scene he had left behind, the creature in his arms, and the mob behind him rapidly closing the gap.

  Shawn and Jack were lying on the floor in the same places they had been when Milo had left, rapidly growing pools of blood beneath both of them. Milo nearly slid in the puddle around Shawn, barely avoiding running into Belphegor entirely. The troll-like thing nearly stood over Jack, the pinchers on its face snapping beneath beady eyes gleaming with victory.

  The look angered Milo, and he was glad. He internalized that anger, pushing it down to the pits of his stomach where it would be converted to determination, drive, and desire.

  “Choke on this!” Milo snarled, holding out the drude before he rushed at Belphegor, smashing the cherub between them.

  Belphegor was a good couple of feet taller than Milo, the sound of its pinchers clacking together above his head causing him to feel uneasy for new reasons than the nightmare coma. Now that he was this close, he realized his own error. He had no exit plan, and it was all too easy to imagine those pinchers slicing through his neck, severing his very head from his body. The creature between him and the demon squeaked, and that brought Milo back to the reality of his life.

  Milo wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but he was disappointed to find that nothing did. The creature started to struggle to free itself, and Milo stumbled backward, desperate to get away from it, from Belphegor, and he fell onto his tailbone with a thud that sent a bolt of pain up his spine. As quickly as he could, he pulled himself backward away from Belphegor. His palms and legs dragged through his friends’ blood, and he tried not to look at them.

  He was very much afraid that it was too late, that they were already gone, and all this would be for nothing. If he dared a glance at them and confirmed his thoughts, his will to fight would be gone. He wouldn’t risk it. In his fall, the drude freed itself, and Milo’s eyes were wide as he stared it. It bounced to the floor, and as it righted itself, Milo prepared himself for it to lunge. The drude, however, seemed to have opposite thoughts.

  It bounced up from the floor, the tiny flutter of its wings aiding its bit of movement. It clung tightly to the front of Belphegor’s frame. Even from his place on the floor, Milo could see its stubby fingers using Belphegor’s scales to bring itself closer. The troll tried to pluck it off, but its short arms didn’t quite reach. Instead, it stepped backward and sideways, throwing its weight into each move to shake the drude off. Each time he succeeded, the drude bounced up and clung back on again. What started out as frantic, angry movements quickly turned to slow almost gentle motions, and eventually, the beast collapsed.

  Its beady eyes stared at Milo for a second before the drude snuggled to it, eyelids drooping shut. The pinchers morphed back into the fuzzy beard Belphegor had had when Milo had first seen it. He didn’t move as he stared at the scene, and behind him came the flopping pattern of movement as the rest of the drudes entered the room. Upon seeing their friend with Belphegor’s slumbering body, they all took up similar positions, nestling among its scales down the entire length of its body.

  Milo blinked, waiting for any of them to notice him or his friends, to come after them for taking down their leader, but they didn’t. At once, all their eyes closed, and the terrible drilling music in the background faded into nothing. Milo waited a whole minute before he hopped to his feet, sliding in the blood again, and rushed to Shawn’s side, dropping to his knees beside him. The blood around Shawn’s head was beginning to congeal, and Milo tried not to think about that as he set his hand to the side of his friend’s neck. There was a pulse, and that meant it wasn’t too late to fix this.

  Milo rushed over to Jack and frantically checked him for signs of life as well. At first, Milo couldn’t feel anything beneath Jack’s tough skin. Putting more pressure into the movement allowed him to at last pick up the tiny bah-bum of his pulse. Milo breathed out slowly, moving into a sitting position beside him. He was tired though even if he had energy, he wouldn’t have known what to do with it.

  “Rhys! Get us out of here, please,” he said, staring up at the fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the one that was so much like the one they had seen upon first entering the dungeon.

  Silence at first then, “As you wish.”

  14.

  WHEN SHAWN’S EYELIDS fluttered open, the pain in the sides of his head became prominent. It was as if someone had shoved ice picks directly into both of his ear canals. What was perhaps worse than the pain was the realization that he couldn’t hear. On instinct, he lifted his hands, trying to block his ears from the pain, from the silence. There were plastic covers in the way. His eyes fluttered open as he turned his nails toward the surface, trying to pry it off with the assumption that it was the reason behind the pain.

  Eyes open, he was left peering up at Milo standing before him. His friend held his hand out, shaking his head no, and Shawn was confused, but he obeyed. Milo mouthed something to him, but Shawn didn’t know what it was. In the moment, his mind was sorting through the final memories he had before unconsciousness had taken him—Belphegor, the blood coming out of his ears, and the music. He blinked, expecting to see the bedroom, but it was nowhere in sight. They were back at the oasis, lush plants all around him. It was the same place he had woken up in after the dungeon with Mammon.

  Milo’s eyes were wide, body rigid, and Shawn recognized that look. It was pure terror, probably the same way he had looked when he was waiting for Milo to come out of his nightmare coma. Just like that, Shawn felt more than useless as he realized what had happened—Milo had saved him again. Shawn sat up, groaning at the pain in his shoulder, and glanced to the side. Jack was lying in the dirt beside him, protective covers over his ears too. Shawn looked back to Milo, eyes watering.

  “You’re okay,” Milo said, and Shawn perked up.

  “Thank you,” he said, glad that he could suddenly hear again. “I don’t know
how you did it, but we would never have made it this far without you.”

  Milo reached up to point to the dirt plugs in his ears. The ones that Jack had crafted after the banshee attack. “These. Not to mention the drudes had some use after all.”

  “You went back?”

  “It was either that or stay and wait for Belphegor to kill you two,” Milo said.

  “I can’t thank you enough for everything,” Shawn said, looking down at his hands. “Especially after what you went through in that place. For you to risk going back there for us? I can’t...”

  Milo lifted a hand, gentle smile on his face. “It’s okay.”

  Shawn bobbed his head and looked up. “I can’t believe those things could actually work in our favor.”

  “You’re telling me,” Milo said with a laugh. “But I guess no one can truly resist the call of a good nap.”

  Shawn reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I could use one myself.”

  “It’s too bad we don’t have the time,” Milo said, shoulders sagging.

  Suddenly, he looked two decades older than he actually was. Shawn looked away, partially blaming himself for the ragged look. Maybe if Milo had the help he’d needed, he wouldn’t be so bad off now.

  Shawn tried to distract himself by studying Jack. His massive friend was beginning to stir, lifting his hands to the ear covers in the same way that Shawn had. Milo waved him away from moving them, and as soon as he realized that Shawn and Milo were already up, watching him, Jack jumped to his feet.

  “What happened?” he asked, looking around for any sign of the dungeon they’d barely escaped. “I thought we were goners.”

  “We would’ve been, but Milo saved the day again,” Shawn said, setting his hand on Milo’s shoulders.

  Jack blinked. “At this point, it’s almost like you’re in on this whole thing. Teach me how to be smart like you.”