Haven's Addiction

This time it was my turn to throw up on the floor. I leaned back into our cell and wretched, my legs wobbly and losing strength. I leaned against the wall for support, trying to fathom what I had just done. I killed them. I flat out killed them. But it’s not like I knew it was them. How could I have possibly known that? They barged into the room like gangbusters. They could have called out first, should have called out first. It wasn’t my fault.

Edic regained his composure and started to pull on my sleeve. “Guards will be coming. We have to go.” He continued to prod me, but I wouldn’t budge. “There is nothing we can do for them now, they are gone.”

I still couldn’t believe such a thing happened. I vowed to use these weapons properly. I was the only person in possession of them. I was solely responsible for making sure they weren’t used for wanton destruction like the Graxis. It needed to be that way because I had to separate myself from them or else I would become like them. I wasn’t a conqueror, I was supposed to be a savior. Instead I became a destroyer.

Something in my brain snapped. It wasn’t an audible noise or any physical pain. In fact, there were no feelings whatsoever. What made the sensation particularly unsettling was the complete and sudden lack of all feeling. I became completely numb to the entire world around me, and simply didn’t care about any of it. Survival instinct remained as the only thing motivating my movement. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind I decided that I would be getting out of this place, and didn’t care what happened to anyone else in the process.

The sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the passageway from the direction Gerald and the rest had came from. Edic directed me to follow him down the passage in the opposite way of the noise. I had other plans. That was when the emotions finally returned like stepping into the daylight after spending hours in a dark subway tunnel. Actually, just one emotion. And it shone as brightly as the sun, blinding me.

Rage.

I didn’t want to run away. I was pissed off, furious beyond belief. Yes, I killed my companions, but only because of a situation that They had put us in. They were going to pay for the deaths, and I was ready to collect the debt.

“Come on,” I told Edic as I stood up, anger in my eyes. “I’ve had enough running for today.” I marched down the hall towards the direction of the noise without looking back to see if he was behind me. I stepped carefully because of all the blood and gore lining the floor, which infuriated me even more. If my wife had been there, I know she would have said something along the lines of ‘an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind’, or ‘getting vengeance won’t bring them back’, or ‘you don’t even know them that well. Do you really want to die for them?’, all of which would have been true. At that moment, none of it mattered. I saw red in a fit of rage I had never experienced before that sent me on a warpath headed directly towards whoever was down that hallway.

The long passage went farther than I could see, and made of the same stone that lined my newly liberated prison cell. Whoever came down the hallway carried lights, making them sitting ducks. I crouched down to one knee as soon as I was far enough away from the carnage to not be dipping my knee in goo. I whipped up the rifle, and put my eye to the scope. I only practiced with the rifles at long range a few times in the Danger Room. My aim wasn’t that bad, but the scope didn’t take range into account. The velocity of the rounds degraded the further out it went. The speed of the bullet would eventually succumb to gravity. If shot over a far enough distance, even over nothing but wide open field, it would eventually hit the ground.

This, however, was like shooting fish in a barrel. The target was straight ahead of me. There was no wind to blow the bullet off target. Even if I did miss in the narrow passageway, it would likely ricochet off the walls and still possibly hit someone. I didn’t bother to take time to see who the assailants were. The only people I knew who would possibly be anywhere on this side of the world were lying dead in the corridor behind me. Parts of them were still stuck to the bottom of my boot. Everything else was a target. I continued to fire one shot at a time until everything in my sights stopped moving.

I eventually stood up, “C’mon,” I called to Edic, looking back momentarily to see his bewilderment. I signaled that the coast was clear for us to continue on, but he didn’t seem to fully understand how that could be. From his point of view I crouched down, pointed the rifle, there were about half a dozen muzzle flashes, and then I announced that the coast was clear even though there wasn’t anybody in range for him to see. Without the scope the lanterns they were carrying were so far away that they looked like distant stars. He believed me when I said it was clear, and we moved on.

The pungent odor of burnt gunpowder filled the hallway, thankfully overpowering the smell of bodily fluids. Edic followed my lead, still trusting in my abilities. Every ten feet or so I would stop, check the night vision scope to make certain the prone forms lying on the ground were still unchanged, and then continued on. After the fourth stop I crouched down outside a door to my right. As I checked the scope I could hear whispering from behind the door. I immediately stood up, rifle pointed at the door.

Edic whispered behind me, startled, “what is it?”

I heard more whispering behind the door, this time without making any effort to disguise it, but I still couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Bailey,” a voice called out from the other side of the door. It wasn’t a question or a statement, but a ‘hey how are you’ that you would expect when someone you knew tried to get your attention in a public place, saying it loud enough that it could be heard over a crowd of people. I recognized the voice, but couldn’t quite place it through the muffling of the thick wooden door. The rifle remained trained on the door, but I didn’t want it to be for long. I would be a sitting duck for predators coming at me from either end of the hallway. I couldn’t cover each direction at once even if Edic had the other rifle on him. Something told me that what I needed could be found behind door number one.

Edic produced the key he pulled from our cell door that our former companions used to open it. Apparently he was thinking more clearheaded than me. He inserted the key into the door, turning it with a hard clack. He carefully opened the door while I kept the rifle on it. The door creaked open and three figures could be seen dwelling inside. A small amount of light shone through the crack of a window in the ceiling.

“Don’t move,” I called out. “Hands in the air.” I got looks of bewilderment from everyone, including Edic.

The fury I felt from the slaying of my comrades still ran strong. I was ready to shoot the figures in the shadows flat out, but hesitated because it was my rash call to arms that resulted in their deaths in the first place. That coupled with the satisfying vindication of shooting whatever lurked down the passageway gave some semblance of rationality before going completely postal.

Surprisingly, they all complied. It was embarrassing, but I didn’t know what to do next. I looked around and saw that it was a cell exactly like the one we just left. There was nothing more for us to do but leave, lock the door behind us, and look for a way out of here.

Oh wait. The door. It was locked. It was a cell. These were prisoners just like us. They even wore collars just like us. Yet they knew my name. Maybe they overheard the guards talking, or perhaps it was a ruse. This whole encounter made me jaded and paranoid. I didn’t feel like I could trust anyone.

“So are you going to get us out of here or point a weapon at us all day?” Vincent spoke. Yes, that’s right. Vincent. At least I thought it was Vincent. I hadn’t heard him say more than a handful of words over the last several days. Besides, either I was imagining things, or he cracked a joke. I didn’t know what exactly to make of that. I took a closer look at the trio. The speaker seemed to look like Vincent in the dim light. The outlines of the other two were reminiscent of Boregard and Gerald. Someone was trying to trick me, that much I knew for sure. Either these three were fakes or the ones in the hallway were.

“Who are you?” I asked cautiously, studying them intently for a tell.

“Vincent,” the speaker declared without hesitation.

“Boregard Agracious Domsmitty,” the shorter one said bluntly.

“By the gods, we don’t have time for this. You know who we are,” the third one grumbled in agitation. “Either shoot us, set us free, or just leave and we’ll find our own means of escape. Your trademark entrance of making enough noise to wake the dead will have every guard in existence upon us at any moment.”

Yep, that was definitely Gerald. “Good enough for me,” I called out, smirking. “Let’s go meet your long lost brothers.”

We went about twenty feet up the tunnel to the people I shot. They looked like normal people. They weren’t armed, which made me feel a twinge of guilt. The lanterns they carried were still lit. In the light I could clearly see that I hit one of them with a lucky shot in the head. The other was shot twice in the chest, and I immediately recognized them as one of John’s attendants who helped prepare the baths. We went back down the corridor we came from with Boregard, and his super sniffer, taking the lead. I wanted to see their reaction to their doppelgangers before we went any further. I still didn’t fully trust them.

“What about the Borkin weed?” I asked, still grasping for clarification.

“We are far enough underground that it has no effect,” Boregard responded.

“Underground? What are you talking about? There is sunlight coming in through the windows of our cells.”

“It’s simulated,” Gerald informed me “A deception to disorient prisoners, make them believe they have been incarcerated longer than they have.”

“Sneaky. Definitely fits their MO,” I mused. “How long have we been here?”

“Twelve hours, forty two minutes, and eighteen seconds,” Vincent chided. Unlike Gerald, I didn’t think he was being sarcastic. Come to think of it, I thought Vincent was all business all the time, or at least made it look that way. I’ve known people like him, even though he wasn’t human. He played serious all the time, but was deep down a big kidder. The fact that no one else could tell made for an inside joke that amused him to no end.

“Wow. It seems like we’re on day three,” I marveled.

“Seems like longer than that,” Edic mumbled, his voice distant. Nobody said a word after that. Apparently they had an idea of the torment he went through already. The silence eventually broke when Boregard’s sniffing came to a halt at the scene of the explosion.

“What is it?” Gerald asked.

“Not sure,” was all Boregard said. He pushed on the cell door to open it all the way. The light that shone in was brighter than before. The simulated light really did make time pass faster. You didn’t notice it when sitting in a small space with nothing but your thoughts to preoccupy the time. The detail of the carnage was much more discernible now. Edic made retching sounds like he was going to puke again, and quickly turned away before he did. The smell of his previous incarnation domintated the hallway now that the door was open. The smell of blood, gunpowder, and death clung in the air, but the vomit overshadowed it all.

Boregard sniffed at the bodies, examining them closer. Vincent let out an intrigued “Hm,” as if to say ‘what a handsome devil’ at his own visage. Gerald stood silently, scanning the scene while waiting for a report. It was uncanny and a little surreal to see three people looking down on their own mangled and bloody bodies. The similarities were so exact that they were even wearing the same clothes. I realized that I watched it all from a safe enough distance that I could shoot any one of them if they made a wrong move. They walked and talked like the real deal, but I still wasn’t completely convinced.

Gerald seemed to be aware of my discomfort, and made a point to not turn his back on me. Maybe I was being overly paranoid, but I looked at identical doubles of three different people. It’s not like these were dead bodies planted to look like them. There were walking, talking, and breathing people; at least until I blew them to bits. There were various magical methods that could accomplish this, much like how my own body had been duplicated to bring me here, but to what purpose?

The answer seemed obvious, divide and conquer. If they wanted answers from us, what better way than to get it from our friends? But why had they sent the duplicates to me? Either they were after my weapons and were going to get it from my closest associates, or they knew after they tortured the weakest of us that I knew little to nothing about magic and would be the easiest person to trick. Of course, from Edic they also knew that I posed the most current threat to them. Body doubles took care of that in one fell swoop. If I hadn’t blown them away before seeing who they were I would likely have fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. That is, if the ones I prematurely detonated were the clones. If they knew of my weapons they could have planted the duplicates in the cell and let the real ones escape. When they came to get us they would be downed by friendly fire, leaving the duplicates to fish for whatever information they wanted from me. It was a difficult dilemma that could leave you analyzing it for days without coming to a definite solution you could trust. The ones I killed were most likely the disposable cronies, but how would I prove it?

“They look like us,” Boregard said, sniffing the bodies closely, “and even smell like us. But they are definitely not us.”

“Which means...” I left it trailing in the air. This was becoming an annoying habit.

“These are not magical constructs,” Gerald said.

“They are...were...shapeshifters,” Edic said.

“Like the werewolves?” I asked

“Yes and no,” Gerald spoke in cryptic yet again. My blank expression said it all.

Edic was kind enough to educate me. “They can change their form, but not into a set animal like with lycanthropes. Depending on the shapeshifter they could potentially mimic any creature they have contact with. They would need something specific to the individual they are mimicking, like blood, hair, or anything else the body has been in direct contact with recently.”

“They are not necessarily natural shapeshifting creatures,” Gerald added, “but Mages using alteration magic. Natural shapeshifters like the wolves have specific forms that they can change into.”

“Can’t those be used in a variety of different spells against a person?” I tried to recall what I read about these kinds of spells.

“Indeed. tracking, charming, cursing, and all manner of spells used against others need something that is linked to them. The closer it is linked, the better. Something directly from the body is best. The same works for shapeshifting. The closer the material, the more convincing the duplicate.”

“I would say the material they have on us is pretty fresh.” I felt paranoid, checking for cuts that they could have drawn blood from, or an unexpected hair trim.

“These are near perfect duplicates,” Boregard continued to sniff the mangled bodies so closely that his nose practically touched them, which I found really disturbing. “There is only a faint smell I can’t decipher of the original creature. It is unfamiliar to me. They are highly skilled in the arts.” It almost sounded like he was complimenting them, or at least in awe of their magical prowess.

Edic’s interest peaked as he gathered around the bodies. He grumbled in frustration. “They sound like a fascinating specimen, but I have no way to study them.” He grabbed at his collar, itching around it. I noticed that the other three had similar collars on.

“Their disguises aren’t that perfect,” I scoffed.

“What do you mean?” Gerald asked.

“Because they’re not wearing discipline collars.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, but none of them were relieved by it as much as me. I didn’t doubt it now. There was no way our captors would have released them without having restraints on them, no matter what kind of elaborate ruse they planned. Giving them full access to their abilities would have blown their cover. These were the guys I crashed the party with, and now it was time for last call.

“So how do we get out of here?” I asked.

Vincent pulled out a map from, I don’t know where, and didn’t want to think about where he had been hiding it. “This way,” he said with the utmost of confidence, pointing down the hall towards their cell.

“Where exactly are we?” I asked

“In the tunnels leading from the town to Placidious’ fortress. The other way leads to the town,” he announced.

“How did you get the map?” Edic asked.

“I liberated it discreetly when they were interrogating me,” he said, stoically.

“You stole it,” I smirked.

“Yes, that is what I said,” he continued to be all professional. “It looks as if the cells are located in the center of a labyrinth of tunnels, probably a result of the mining. Without a map they are easy to get turned around. Any potential escape is left wandering around lost.”

“How accurate is the map?” I asked.

“Impeccable. It is enchanted and shows every detail,” he said.

I took a close look at it and was completely amazed. The map was printed on a piece of leather roughly a foot square. The image on the map showed exactly where we were, and it moved. It was like watching a map on a video screen. Currently in the center of it were five numbered dots in the middle of a long corridor with cells on either side.

“That is us,” he pointed to the dots. “They have a tracking spell on the collars.”

He slid his finger along the parchment and it moved to another part of the map with twisting and winding tunnels. It was like a magical Ipad. Simply by tapping various portions of the map he could zoom in and examine specific passages more closely.

“I was fortunate enough to acquire this while the enchantment was already activated,” Vincent informed us.

Again I smirked. “You mean you waited patiently until they activated it before you stole it.”

“Yes, that is what I said,” he remained serious, although I felt him smiling on the inside.

“This way,” Boregard interrupted, leading down the opposite passageway Vincent indicated. “I can smell our gear nearby.”

“Then lead the way, Toucan Sam,” I called out.

We bumbled through the dark, turning from one passageway to the next with Boregard’s nose in the lead. The lanterns didn’t illuminate more than five feet ahead of us, but he was confident in where we were going. This place really was a maze. All the twists and turns didn’t seem like anything that would be functional in a mine, but something intentionally created to confuse people. There were so many passageways to the left and to the right, that if we felt our way through the dark we would be literally going around in circles all day. Peeking at Vincent’s map confirmed this.

“Can you really smell our stuff through all of this?” I whispered to Boregard along the way. I didn’t know entirely why I whispered. It was obvious that we were the only people down there. The scariness of the dark left a whole world of possibilities that might be lurking in shadowy crevices to jump out and eat us. I didn’t want to take any chances. Without the use of my Sense, I wouldn’t know of any danger until it was possibly too late.

“I can smell the trail of it,” he said. “When they dumped us in our cells they took our gear down this way. I am merely following that trail.”

Having a natural tracker like that was certainly helpful to the mission. Although, if he was a plant, then he could be leading us right into a trap. If he was a fake, though, he wouldn’t have the powerful sense of smell that the real Boregard. Paranoia began to seep back in, and it took a lot of restraint to keep it at bay. If I let paranoia creep in it would overrun my thoughts. Finally we came to a door similar to that of our cells. Light could be seen coming through the cracks underneath. We tried to open the door discreetly, but it creaked and groaned so loudly that it was a lost cause, so I just kicked it in with the rifle at the ready. The room was vacant.

“For a big operation like this there isn’t a lot of security,” I remarked.

“Placidious’ agents have infiltrated the town, but not taken it over.” Gerald assessed the room. “The tunnels were likely designed to keep people from making their way to his keep. With the wolves and burstshrooms in place there hasn’t been any need for them. Maybe this place had been filled with prisoners at one point, agents of Drognaus, or potential agents. I’m sure they didn’t stay prisoners for long. Once Placidious got everything he could out of them, they would be fertilizing the fields.”

“Ah, buried and made into mulch,” I nodded.

“No, literally,” Edic corrected. “Living sacrifices are needed to plant Garic root. That is why they are forbidden.”

I officially didn’t feel bad anymore for blowing the duplicates up.

The room we entered was not a cell at all, but a large open space filled with wooden tables of shoddy construction. It looked like they were made with whatever bits of random wood had been lying around. Lanterns hung that illuminated the room with enough light that it was blinding compared to the pitch blackness of the tunnels. On each of the tables, our stuff strung out over the entire surface like it was on display. Every single item in our inventory was sprawled out, with pen and paper on each of the tables with scrawling all over the page like they were taking inventory. Small paper tags were on each item that were numbered. I couldn’t read the writing on the papers, but it was a safe bet that it was an exact description of the item associated with it.

While everyone’s stuff sat on individual tables, mine was on a series of tables that dominated nearly half of the room. It was a little embarrassing. I felt like a pack rat. If not for the magical crown royal bag there was no way in the world I could have carried that much stuff all at once. A lot of it was mundane junk that I crammed into the bag when I first got it just to see if it could be filled. It amazed me how much there was. Most of it I had forgotten about. That’s the problem with a bag of this kind. It reads your mind to give you the item you are looking for, but if you forgot what you placed inside, it could stay there forever. Apparently they knew the trick to emptying the bag completely.

I noticed that all of the magically enchanted items were on their own individual tables away from the non-magical items. It looked like they were having a heck of a time evaluating my gear. The fact that they weren’t the least bit magical probably baffled the hell out of them. One of the hand grenades in my inventory was missing, although the pin to it lay on the table with the other grenades. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Serves them right. That would make at least one more of my captors that I wouldn’t have to worry about. It’s no wonder they put me in a cell by myself until they could figure out what to do with me.

The first thing I did was locate my wedding ring and put it on my finger. For the first time since I being taken prisoner, I no longer felt naked. I had an arsenal of weapons that would make Charleton Heston jealous, a magical cloak that could make me look like whatever I wanted, a bag of infinite space, and a myriad of other powerful magical and technological items, but none of them could make me feel the comfort and completeness that came from slipping on my wedding band. For a brief moment I felt a sense of understanding that materialism was meaningless, but that moment quickly passed as I needed to scramble to gather it all up. Guards would come looking for us at any moment. Since they could track us with the collars, we needed to book it ASAP.

Everyone else did the same with their gear, which meant I had to go extra fast to keep up with them. I grumbled and moaned a bit, but then looked over to Edic who complained even more. Everything in his herbal pouch was scattered all over the table, and he muttered something about not being able to properly organize it. I made pretty good time, all things considered. I had all my equipment back and the world felt normal again. Well, as normal as can be considered the circumstances. The urge to test them all out was strong, but the pain from using the bracelets even stronger, searing into my brain so that even the thought of activating them made me cringe.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered as the realization hit me. I had a whole slew of magical equipment, but I also carried an arsenal of non-magical gear that came with me from home. A lot of it I never used because there were magical equivalents available that were so much more effective. Talk about a role reversal. I had the means to do things that nobody else in the group could, making me a greater asset. I tried not to let it go to my head, but failed epically.

Vincent took the lead with the night vision goggles I loaned him. Boregard came right behind sniffing to make sure the coast was clear. Gerald and Edic were close behind them, and as usual I took the rear, covering it with the night vision scope. We all agreed that the flashlights would be handy, but would draw too much attention to us from a distance. The rifle was really the only weapon available at the moment. We did have swords, knives, and bows, but lacked the magical strength that would be needed against the kind of foes we were up against. Not only were we crippled against using any sort of magical or Psionic abilities, but we couldn’t even use the items we had without it being a one shot wonder because it would cripple us for a few moments in the process.

While we walked, I did a mental rundown of what I could use. I had ammo for the rifle, which was now fully loaded, including the grenade launcher, although after seeing the carnage first hand I didn’t know if I could ever use it again. I still had frag grenades and teargas grenades, either of which would be handy for covering our tracks. I had pepper spray and the stun gun for disabling targets as well. I did still have the sword, which was better than nothing, and a few throwing knives. There were plenty of items I could retrieve that would result in a shock, but possibly worthwhile. I could retrieve potions from the bracer, especially those with life saving healing effects. The freezing ring was a possibility, but I couldn’t think of any uses that would make it worthwhile. The cloak could disguise my appearance, but I didn’t know if the effect would hold when the shock came. I still had a couple exploding buttons. At the very least I could hand them off for someone else to use. Then again, I’m sure they had their own implements of destruction that could be used on a one time basis.

Their confidence added to mine. Except for Edic. He was terrified. He couldn’t see at all. He had no combat experience. The only edge he had in a situation like this was magic, and that was now gone because of the collars. Not to mention the torture he went through. Apparently they tortured the others but not as extensively. They already got most of what they needed from interrogating Edic. They tormented the others just enough to get the genetic material they needed to impersonate them. Poor guy. I felt sorry for him. He got the short end of the stick just because he was the least experienced. If we did make it out of this alive he would no doubt be traumatized for life.

Going through the tunnel seemed to carry on for hours, but I also learned very recently that time is relative. I thought that our jaunt through the woods outside of Placid had been the most perilous and stress inducing experience I could ever go through. This kept me on edge even more.

We stopped and took a break at some point to eat some of the food in our gear. All we could go with was basic rations. The plates that created meals for us would illicit a shocking response, as Boregard generously found out for us. Vincent gave us the rundown on what to expect up ahead. We broke out the flashlights so that we could all see. It was a lot better than the pow wow near the burstshroom fields where we couldn’t see each other at all.

“The tunnels are very confusing,” he informed us in a hushed tone. “It looks like this area of the mountain was once used for mining, but there have been additional connections made between tunnels to make it a labyrinth. Since they are using it as their prison they have made it virtually impossible to escape by navigating the tunnels.”

“Reports from before the town was sealed off indicated that there was a prison somewhere,” Gerald added. “Agents disappeared left and right. It was difficult to keep them in place for any period of time. There were also reports of townspeople disappearing for long periods of time. Some never returned while those who did weren’t the same. It looks like Placidious created his own network of spies right under everyone’s noses.”

“Literally,” I muttered.

“Quite right,” Gerald murmured, which astonished me. He agreed with me. Maybe this wasn’t the real Gerald after all. “We should have seen it coming,” he grumbled. “All the signs were there, but we didn’t think Placidious had the capabilities or resources to successfully pull off a stunt like that.” Wow, he was admitting to making a mistake. This definitely didn’t seem like Gerald.

Of course, he left himself wide open to a jab that I simply couldn’t resist adding. “It’s a good thing you’ve got me to bring the get out of jail free card.”

“Shut it Groves. If it wasn’t for your antics we would have slipped past without them ever knowing.” He glared at me viciously. Yep, this was definitely the real Gerald.

“Face it Ger,” Boregard came to my defense. “Their spies were too good. We would have ran into them anyway, and met the same fate. They were preparing the perfect snare for too long.”

This shut Gerald up, but he was none too pleased. Vincent continued with his spiel as if nothing happened.

“There is a passageway that makes it through to the keep on the side of the mountain. It looks like an entry into the keep.”

“What do you mean looks like?” I asked.

“It’s difficult to say for certain. Tunnels have been added and blocked off since it was made. It looks like they’ve used earth magic to rearrange the openings to passageways on a regular basis. Without the use of magic to unlock that feature of the map I have no way to know for certain.”

“Do we try our luck on it, or is it a trap?” Edic worried.

“I don’t think we have a choice. It appears to be the only passage that leads to the keep. If there are others, they don’t appear on the map. If they exist it will take time we don’t have to search for them. The whole point of the labyrinth seems to be to stall and get prisoners lost so that they can be tracked through the collars. Even with the map it doesn’t give us much of a lead.”

“What about traps?” Boregard asked.

“I doubt there would be any, at least none that are lethal. Their greatest trap is misdirection. Besides, they use these tunnels too. They wouldn’t want to risk getting themselves killed, especially when the tunnels are constantly changing.”

While the potential of imminent death awaited us down the tunnel it wasn’t nearly as scary as our travels so far. This time we used the flashlights to guide us instead of trudging in the dark. Since we were in the final stretch it was safer to see where we were going, just in case there were traps. The tunnel was a straight path that we could see far ahead without any twists and turns. The passageway was only about four feet wide, but with enough space for us to walk single file. Vincent took the lead, looking for traps. I walked right behind him for a change since the rifle was the only real stopping power we had. They all carried swords and knives to defend themselves with, but with the narrow passageway they would be relatively useless. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the intent behind the tunnel.

For a while there was nothing, but then we saw a crumpled form lying farther up the tunnel. We approached it cautiously. As we got closer we could tell that it was a body, a long dead one. It had been down there so long that there was nothing left of it but bones.

“What do you think?” I asked.

Vincent crouched down and examined it. “He’s dead.”

“Jeez, everybody’s a critic today. I meant how do you think he died?”

He actually smirked a little “Then why didn’t you say so?” Which was the closest thing to lighthearted I had seen in him since we were captured. “That’s not my field of expertise.”

We moved further down the tunnel so that Edic could get a look at it. We couldn’t just let him pass through because the passage was too narrow. “I can’t tell how he died without examining him further. He could have been poisoned, stabbed, hexed, or simply starved to death wandering around down here.” He examined the remains closer, angling the flashlight for a better view. “Oh,” he burst out, concerned.

“What is it?” I looked closer and saw for myself. The skeleton had the metal band of a discipline collar around its neck.

“He didn’t die here,” Edic said. “The body was dragged here.”

“So he wasn’t killed by a trap that sprung here?” I asked.

“Doesn’t look like it.”Although he didn’t sound entirely certain.

“What’s the purpose then?” Boregard inquired from the back.

“A warning,” Gerald answered. “If this leads to Placidious, they want to scare people off.”

“Danger to all ye who enter here,” I said in my best pirate accent.

“Something like that.” I could visualize Gerald rolling his eyes. God knows I’d seen it enough. “Hopefully it means we are on the right track.”

Boregard sniffed in the air, “I can smell more of them up ahead.”

“Go cautiously,” Gerald said. “Try not to disturb them.”

We continued on and, sure enough, the corridor was riddled with them. About every few feet or so we stepped over another one. Some were completely decayed down to the bone, others were in advanced stages of decomposition with just a few bits of rotten flesh hanging on them. All of them were wearing collars.

I counted sixteen bodies before we were clear of them. Surprisingly there wasn’t an overpowering stench. The bodies were so far gone that there wasn’t enough left to smell, which added credibility to Edic’s theory that they were put there after they died. It was unnerving beyond words to step around them. We still went carefully, not knowing if they were covering up some sort of trap. Although I got a strong feeling they weren’t. Why bother taking the time to set a trap when you can force people to turn back with the perception of a trap? Or at least get them to go so slowly that you can catch up to them.

The most terrifying part of it all was my own imagination. With each step my stomach lurched with anticipation of one of them grabbing hold of me with their bony hands and dragging me to the ground. I kept the rifle pointed on them just in case, not that it would do any good. How do you kill something that’s already dead? The most unnerving part of all was that if we hit a dead end we would have to go back through them.

If the skeletons came to life we would be in a heap of trouble. I faced a horde of skeletons in the Danger Room before. It ended badly. They needed to reset the scenario before I got killed. I finally survived it on the third attempt, I was too stubborn to fail a scenario. Magically animated dead are incredibly difficult hit. It’s literally like trying to shoot a stick man, there are no vital organs to hit. You had to hit the bone in just the right spot to shatter it. Even severing the spine is fruitless because the legs and arms still work independently. Not until at least over half of the body is completely destroyed is the magic that binds them disbursed. The rifle would be best used as a club, but the passageway was so narrow that I had no way to swing it if I could even squeeze past to the back of the line.

As we moved on, relieved to be past the bodies, Gerald called out from the back, “I have movement.”

We instantly turned around fearing the worst, shining the flashlights back down the passage we came from. I automatically regretting doing so. My greatest fear came true. We watched in horror as the dead bodies slowly rose from the ground, and began shambling towards us. They were stumbling and slow, but their advancement in our direction was unmistakable.

Wide eyed and terrified we quickly turned and continued down the hallway, practically sprinting. All the while praying that our tunnel didn’t stop at a dead end, or else it would be ours.