~o0o~

The children gathered around Dr. Albius StrangeGlove as pulled out his strange story book, settled down in his chair and began to read...

"Today, we are going to read Staircase Hotel..."

***

The Demonic Outlands of the Lost is the dark and dangerous world of the undead. Staircase Hotel, was their only hope. If people wanted to survive, they had to reach Staircase Hotel. But few did. Most were overtaken by the undead and became undead themselves.

But the demons had to be dealt with, or they would overrun the entire land and gain control of the entire world.

As you enter the town, you see signs of battle.

It's a realm of death, where even the most powerful beings fall victim to disease or age. In the centre, however, there are seven lights that glow with an unholy yellow hue; these lights lead towards the lighted land of The Demonic Outlands of the Lost. The lights are what keeps the demons alive while those creatures from the dark, who don't have souls are kept away from the lights.

Demons are unable to live in the light, hence the lights are their salvation, a prison of sorts that keeps them from dying.

This was Staircase Hotel's power. It produced the lights. People were guided by the lights. The lights were what made the world turn. Now, strange things are afoot. The lights are dark.

In the town, you also notice something is amiss.

In The Demonic Outlands of the Lost, everything goes wrong. You can never be safe in this world for long. Not even with the lights provided by Staircase Hotel. You always have to watch your back at all times or the shadows will come after you. And no matter how far you run or how well you hide you won't be able to get away.

The shadows have it out for you.

You see a few survivors wandering the town.

No one can escape the clutches of Death. So, whenever they see something on its own they leave it alone and if someone else decides to play with the little thing then it doesn't stay dead for very long. Even if you know how to take care of them, they still can take some of your strength away.

Therefore, you must always be weary of your undead foes.

There were so many dangers in the world outside of Staircase Hotel.

You were never one to shy away from danger. You faced it head on and survived. As long as you stay cautious, survive long enough, and ward off all the evil creatures that come your way you should be fine.

They can turn people into skeletons before they're aware of what happened to them. This is why many avoid the lighted lands and the demons who live there. For who wants to be turned into a skeleton? Do you? To be nothing but lifeless bones, reanimated by the Lich King?

No mind of your own?

No free will.

***

"We can still eat lasagne, though, right?"

"Oh no! No, no, no! Of course not! Undead can not eat lasagne."

"Why not?"

"Only the living can eat food. Only the living can eat lasagne..."

***

No ability to eat candy or ice cream or cake or lasagne!

Praise be to lasagne!

What would life be like if you could not eat lasagne?

And what do they have Staircase Hotel?

Plenty of lasagne!

And cake and ice cream for desert!

And you, my friend, you are very hungry.

So of course, YOU want to get to Staircase Hotel and avoid the demons and undead along the way.

But how are you to get there?

There are two major settlements in the area and both are solidly defended by powerful wizards. Even if you somehow got past them, the Grand Alliance that is gathering to defend the civilized world has fortified camps all through the area.

There are so many undead now. It's hard to know which ones are dangerous and which ones are not. You see an undead warrior smash a skeleton's skull with a club and the club is still in the air.

Barely any place to walk without tripped over a shambling zombie, or a gibbering holder's eye.

You begin walking towards the highway that will lead you to the castle. Along the way, you can see a village and a smithy.

The Demonic Outlands of the Lost is a world of monsters, swollen with endless armies of the undead, where flesh-eating ghouls rule the world, vampires roam the streets freely, and all living creatures are at their mercy. It was a world in which you were not meant to exist, and if someone did they’d end up like the countless other souls who had fallen victim to its depravity.

Because of the Necromancer Lord, the dead have lost their eternal rest.

But you weren’t one of them.

No. Not you.

You are a Human.

A Human girl.

A Human girl who loves lasagne.

And cake.

You hear a large pack of animals approach from the direction of the village.

Oh, good. You can smell the blood of a large pack of animals ahead of you.

The pack of animals is now less than a mile away.

You can smell them!

They're upon us!

Oh, dear.

You hear the howling of the nearby wolves.

Oh no.

The wolves are coming.

It's time to go.

Where?

There is only one answer for that.

The wolves are almost upon you.

But fear not!

You now have a large and heavy skillet!

You can smash the windshield out of any nearby car and make good on your escape!

That's good.

You hadn’t come to the Dark Lands expecting any good to happen from it, and certainly hadn’t counted on meeting such a beautiful young man. He’d saved you from certain death by turning his blood red coat crimson, and what was he carrying?

A casserole pan full of lasagne!

For he is the world's greatest lasagne chef and now you found yourself spending most of your time with him. And he is your beloved. Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.

But now he had become a crusader, to slay the wicked and bring the righteous to an unmerciful feast. Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.

You spent hours together exploring the ruins of the city that he used to call home and finding a new purpose in life and eating lasagne, all while you search for The Staircase Hotel.

You'll come across it. You're sure of it.

And when you do you'll be able to rest...

For a little while, anyway.

For you've been searching for weeks, since you first heard about the lost hotel.

And finally you find the hotel...

It was a dark, crumbling building.

An old ruin.

Its walls were crumbling into nothingness as though it'd been abandoned years ago, and it looked like someone had taken the whole thing and turned it into a tomb.

You're almost too afraid to go near it, but eventually curiosity wins out and you venture inside.

As you step through the doorway, you freeze.

It's not just because you're afraid.

Or at least, you think it's not.

You look again.

There are stairs leading down into the dark and creepy, in basement of the inn, and as far as you can tell this isn't the original floor plan; the entire structure has shifted slightly since then, so it no longer looks quite as much like the place that it once was.

But then your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you see that the walls aren't the original plaster, but rather some kind of stone.

Still, you don't hesitate to step into the basement, curious to see what lies beneath. What you find is far from the best, and you half expect to find undead creatures or some such, but instead you find a dusty old chamber littered with the bones of many a beast.

It's cold down here, and the air smells faintly musty as you take tentative steps further into the building.

You can see a window at the far end of the chamber, beyond which lies a darkness you can't begin to understand, but you see a second door on the other side of the chamber, beyond which you suspect may...

As soon as you step away from the staircase, something grabs you by the ankle, and before you even realize that something is trying to pull you underground, you let out a shriek of terror.

This draws the attention of whatever is down there, and whatever it is has just enough time to yank you down to the bottom of the stairs before it's pulled away with an angry shriek.

You twist around to try and free yourself from whatever has its grasp on your ankle, only to find nothing but empty darkness ahead of you.

You can't see a thing.

Panicking, you shriek out a challenge, certain that something must be lurking in the darkness.

"Show yourself!" you cry.

"Help me," a voice whispers behind you.

You swing around, but only find shadow and darkness.

"Who's there?" you cry.

"I am."

Your heart drops to your stomach, and fear courses through you like lightning through the heavens above, because it knows exactly who it belongs to. The scarred and blackened face of a demon who steals from children and eats eyeballs for fun.

His face is burned into your memory, but you'll never forget the voice.

"Show yourself!" you cry.

"Will you be willing to give me your name?"

"What's the point?"

"So that I may better understand you."

"What for?"

He's always been there watching from the shadows, watching, laughing, taunting you. Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.

His laugh echoes through the halls.

He's everywhere.

And then, he stops.

"Picker..."

You turn around to see a pale, ghostly figure standing at the end of the stairs, a figure you would never mistake for a living creature.

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself paralyzed in fear. Your mind can't comprehend that something can move at such speed, let alone run away.

He's standing right beside you, reaching towards your face.

You scream for help and turn around to take your leave, but his arms wrap around you and he whispers in your ear.

"Will you be my friend?"

"What?"

Your eyes fill with tears as you turn, your gaze focused on him as you back away from him.

"What are you saying?"

He doesn't answer you. Instead, he advances and, without warning, bites into your neck.

This is wrong.

This isn't supposed to happen.

No!

Not your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red!

Your life isn't supposed to end here.

You try to break free from his grip, but he's tightened it around your throat so much that you can't draw a full breath.

You're never going to see anyone else again.

You might as well make whatever peace you have with your god and accept your fate.

Your eyes flutter and your body weakens. As the darkness takes you, you see a figure come up the stairs.

Your hand comes up to wipe your eyes, but you find yourself unable to move. His hands wrap around yours, gripping tight as they force you back into him.

Your vision fades and you can't see anything.

A moment later and you find yourself standing in some sort of bizarre out of body experience, watching the last remnants of your life fade away as the darkness takes you.

He laughs again. He always does.

You aren't sure why you can't see anything, but you take a step forward anyway, intent on finding out.

But the floor keeps going and you fall on it with a thud.

"I'm sorry," he says, his lips close to your ear.

You try to scream but nothing comes out.

He places one hand on your chest and the other on your throat and squeezes.

"Not my fault you're dead," you cry out.

He releases and you suck in a breath, your lungs burning upon re-entry into the air.

"Why'd you have to go and be so difficult?"

"Please, just let me help you…"

He raises the knife over his head, intent on slamming it into you as you beg.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

His fingers tighten in yours, and you feel the bones begin to bend. A scream rips itself from your throat as you feel his body bend in two.

The knife gleefully sticks into his body, and it isn't until then that you realize what he's really trying to do. He slowly slices through the skin and flesh, his lips twisting into a smile.

"Oh, come on," he complains, releasing you as your feet hit the ground. "Just one more fight."

You stare at him, and all you can do is cry. He slowly turns the knife, his smile growing.

"I don't know why you're so difficult," he says.

You stumble backwards a few feet as he takes off running.

"Please, just stop! I don't want to have to do this!"

You chase after him, but the darkness that's taken you prevents you from seeing him.

"Please!"

You loved him so.

Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red.

You can't let him get away.

You have to do something.

You have to save him.

You have to save him from the Dark Lord.

You have to kill the Demon King.

You will not sit by and let this happen.

You will save the love of your life.

He's there. You can see him.

He's beyond the reach of your arm, but you're sure he's there.

There has to be a way.

You can't give up.

You can't give up on your love.

But one day he died.

Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead.

He's standing at the other end of the hallway.

He's still wearing red, even in death. His red winged ghost wears a long red caftan, but it's soiled and ripped.

He smiles at you, but it's a hollow, lifeless smile.

He looks over his shoulder, eyes widening when he sees you. He turns back to you as you run towards him, trying to catch up with him. But he runs too fast, out of reach.

"You'll have to do better than that, human," he says.

He disappears from your sight as you run around a corner.

"I'll have you all in tatters before you can blink."

He stops at a door, pulling a knife out of his pocket. The handle juts out awkwardly, like it was cut out of plastic rather than wood. The edge glints menacingly in the light. As he reaches forward, the door opens with a loud creak.

An old woman stands there, her back to you, staring into the distance. She's wearing a long, black dress and her white hair is tied back in a messy bun.

A tall man steps out of the room, clad entirely in black.

The figure reaches for something in his waistband before looking up at you, and his dark eyes meet yours. You've seen that look before. In the dark alleyways where you had first met, before he had killed your friend and stolen their body.

In the smoke and the dust, you had mistaken him for an undead, but he had looked away, and you had missed your chance.

His eyes are filled with rage.

And murder.

He leans towards you, the knife gleaming as his lips curl into a snarl.

You swing your sword at his head.

He lunges at you, and you flinch, expecting pain to follow. Instead, his arm wraps around your neck, squeezing. You struggle in an attempt to break free, before he holds you in a choke-hold. You begin to see stars as he continues to squeeze. Then your arms and legs stop working. You open your eyes before noticing the knife at your throat and the man gripping your arm.

Before your vision begins to dim, you hear a familiar voice calling your name. The old woman steps forward, raising a hand in greeting.

There's no time for questions or answers. The man grips the knife tighter, slicing into your flesh as he whispers into your ear.

"You must take us to the king. Now."

As the world fades to black, you know the truth. This is hell.

There is only darkness now. You have suffered the fate of the damned.

But wait?

What is this?

You open your eyes.

You are not dead?

How can this be?

Waking up from a death like this would mean you aren't a ghost or spirit.

You look around the room.

You are in a small, round room that is lit by a single candle.

Was it not a flash of red which saved you?

No!

No!

Oh no!

It can not be.

It mustn't be.

But it is.

So tragic!

Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead.

No!

You want to cry but cannot.

You will hold it in and suffer like all the other cursed.

That is the way of the world though, isn't it?

Yes. So sad.

Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead.

No!

He was the love of my life!

You are still a mortal, and all mortals are doomed.

Your blood boils with anger.

This must not be!

But he swore, on his death bed, to become a ghost, and haunt you forever.

To protect you.

To serve you.

Never to leave you.

No!

You could never trust such a spirit.

He was a coward and weak.

A succubus of the darkest kind.

And he vowed that he would search the world and find Staircase Hotel and take you there, and keep you safe.

***

"And did he?"

"Ah! We must keep reading the story and find out, mustn't we?..."

***

Your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, he died and he became one of the undead. But he swore, on his death bed, to become a ghost, and haunt you forever. To protect you. To serve you. And he vowed that he would search the world and find Staircase Hotel and take you there, and keep you safe.

He would never leave you.

No!

Staircase Hotel, you say to yourself.

It is time to go there and keep your promise.

You stand up and look around.

You see his silhouette in the window.

He stands there and stares at you.

You stare back.

Then you smile, and he smiles back.

You rush towards the window, but it is barred.

You pound on the window, but it does not give.

But alas, you don't know that.

You can never know that.

He's dead!

He's gone!

Dead forever!

You won't ever see him again! He's dead!

What did you do?

You've killed him!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

All alone!

Without you!

Forever without you!

In pain. In misery. And lonely.

And alone.

And cold.

And hungry.

For lasagne.

There will never be lasagne again.

You look down towards the window.

You see him there, at the very edge of the roof.

The smell of lasagne wafts towards you.

The lasagne chef!

He's dead, but you still hope he might see you again someday.

You think that maybe one day the two of you could meet again. Perhaps at an inn. Maybe somewhere close by.

But then something else occurs to you.

What if he's not dead?

What if he's haunting this very inn?

What if he is here, now?

Maybe you could visit him wherever he lives, in the land of the undead, and he'd give you some of his lasagne to taste.

You'd ask him. You promise you will.

Because he's dead, you think to yourself. He can't come back. He's a spirit. Nothing more. You know that to be true.

Maybe you could even go to the same inn together, and eat lasagne dinner together. Or maybe you could visit him after your travels, and you could sit down with each other and enjoy a meal and chat about anything and everything, and then just as quickly as it came it was gone again and the next moment you were back where you began...

You're a ragged, miserable, cold, hungry, lonely and depressed being, and you're going to keep on travelling alone.

It seemed like such an exciting idea that you couldn't help but ask yourself why anyone would choose to be dead for a second time. After all, what kind of person decides to stay dead twice? What kind of person chooses to stay dead a thousand times? It doesn't make sense. Doesn't it?

The reason you can't understand it is that you've already lived a life. You know what living is all about. This isn't something you'd ever get used to.

Do you wish for a better life?

Your life was simple until one day you came upon a monster that could only be described as a demon.

This awakened within you an adventurous spirit, and from then on you set out on an endless search for more excitement. More things to do, places to go, and people to meet.

A lasagne demon. That's what this is. You never thought you'd see the day when you'd actually be looking forward to going to bed.

"Get out of here, stupid!" you snarl.

A being created entirely of pure hatred and malice and lasagne.

You're not afraid of it. In fact, you're intrigued. The more it protests and the more it fights, the more you're interested.

Its sole purpose was to hunt down every living creature in sight, but that wasn’t enough. It made a point of stealing all the world's lasagne as well. The fiend! For some reason this being desired the destruction of every human alive, so it sought to kill every single person it came across, and do so, by depriving the world of the cheesy goodness we call lasagne!

But you have a mission. You set off to find the stones and put an end to this menace once and for all.

Why? Because you're a dum-dum.

What did you expect would happen when you set off to slay a demon that wanted to eliminate the cheese?

You're not dead yet.

Why, when they have so many options? So many great things to eat, and drink, and so much deliciousness around them, not to mention all of these wonderful things people are capable of creating, why should it want to waste it? Why did it decide to destroy everything, and everyone?

The world is going to pay dearly for this.

You didn't come halfway across the world just to fail.

If this being knew that its creation caused so much suffering among the humans of the earth, surely it would change its ways right away, if only to make up for its mistakes.

You are going to find the stones, and then you are going to bring this horrible creature to justice.

But how?

This being didn't know how to repent or feel sorry for itself; it had no reason to apologize for its sins or try to make amends. Instead, it decided to kill.

It killed everything it could, and then it killed those things that wouldn't die, and then it killed again, and again, and again, till nothing was left.

Just like that, it killed everything it came into contact with.

Everything.

From a little girl and her dog, to an old woman on her bicycle, all of them lost in an instant. There wasn’t a single life left in the entire world that hadn’t been destroyed, not one single human soul that wasn’t destroyed by this being.

Perhaps you have a different destiny. Perhaps you will be the one to destroy this demon that wishes to blot out the sun.

The only thing standing between humanity and complete annihilation is a few very small beings: the undead. They had taken over this area a long time ago. They were the creatures that lived beneath the ground. Those creatures, whose existence the demons had failed to eradicate!

They had allowed their own creation to go to waste! Why, some of them were still running around in human form, completely unaware of their true natures!

In preparation for the upcoming battle between the clans of the Flaming Pit, a tournament of warriors has been declared open. The greatest fighters will be rewarded and honoured with the greatest prize in The Demonic Outlands of the Lost: a lifetime supply of lasagne!

You were once a great fighter in your own right. You held your own in a sword fight against an entire room full of goblins. You were the champion for many years.

And the nerve of this, this, this lasagne stealing demon!

He thinks he can defeat your through trickery and deceit? Impossible!

However, when you tried to kill it with your sword it simply disappeared into thin air, leaving behind nothing but it's clothes and weapons.

So there you are, unarmed and dressed in your best fighting armour, in a place you and your allies never even knew existed. Not only is the demon a trickster, he is a trickster of the highest level!

The Demonic Outlands of the Lost. is a world where civilization has risen and fallen many times, the remains of once great cities litter the land, great statues and towering buildings lie in ruins, and ancient war machines rest on the abandoned battlefields. In this ever-changing and vibrant world the clans of the Flaming Pit, engage in an age old battle of magic and science; where the weak cling to the vestiges of once great civilizations and fight for power over the scraps. The world draws near an end, a great evil has arisen, and heroes must rise to protect what is left and restore the glory of a once great people.

You have been chosen to represent your clan in this upcoming war. You will not only be fighting for your own survival, but for the survival of your people and everything you hold dear.

There is a strange smell in the air.

Join the battle and wage war against the coming apocalypse.

The demon's words taunt you. You're certainly not going to bow to him, are you?

Then a booming voice assaults your senses.

A voice speaks, and it is as clear as water.

It all starts now.

But what can you do? You are no warrior. You are you, a tinkerer. You have lived all your life in this small farming town in the clans of the Flaming Pit,. You are a tinkerer, and expert in the working of metal and engineering. You've moved to this town to help the aging blacksmith repair his equipment. You've lived here for a few years, and have become good friends with the blacksmith. You're known to be a quick and competent tinkerer, and have earned a reputation among the town's smiths.

You have no previous military experience, and little combat training. The closest you have come to fighting is when you spar with the smith a few times a week.

You lay on a large bed of woven grass stuffed with furs. You are used to sleeping on the ground, but a soft bed feels really nice.

You notice a series of small, circular indentations in the ground, and these make you think of a wine glass.

But when your beloved lasagne chef, who always wore red, died and became one of the undead, you vowed to kill all of the world lasagne thieving demons!

Yes.

That is exactly what you did.

You have no idea how you're going to fight the coming apocalypse, but you have an idea of who you want to fight it for.

And you would carry on alone, in search of the great Staircase Hotel! You would save Humanity from the hoards of undead!

Or so you said.

However, you are a woman of action, and it is what you do. You're not one to sit around and wait for something to happen.

It was only a month after your banishment of the world's last lasagne demon. You had heard that the demon armies were amassing in the mountains to the west, and you felt it was time to start your journey.

The next day when you returned to the area the creature had been there, only you and your clothing remained. There was no sign of the creature or any other creature of the night. You assume it either fled, or was destroyed.

You were standing in the midst of the demon's former territory, staring around you. You felt as if you were in a dream, a strange and terrifying dream. All around you, the grass had turned to blood, a viscous, crimson liquid. It oozed out from the very ground, saturating the soil.

Ghostly knights from realms unknown stand guard to protect the living. Blood runs down their armour and stains their lances. They are a grim and terrifying sight.

The demons themselves howl and scream, but have been rendered speechless.

Magic blast with deadly accuracy from unseen wizards. Demons and undead warriors gather under the great tree on the other side of the river. The magic blows their bodies apart one by one.

But their magic doesn't touch you, for you are not a demon, and you are not an undead warrior. You are a wanderer with a mission.

In the land of the dead, a great and terrible evil reigns that threatens life and death for all those who live, but if one has the power to stop it in its tracks, they have the chance to prevent their own demise.

You will not stop until that threat is gone.

You are heading to a meeting place with a few others to plan your final battle with death.

Only you remain.

Do you wish to continue?

And you are you.

The crimson grass fades away.

You're in the middle of town, in the daylight.

And you know that you are finally safe.

You have a destination now. You have a goal.

One brave soul has taken it upon themselves to challenge the demon's former stronghold. With a handful of followers, they stand against the might of the demon's undead and mystical army.

There are two paths before you, and you know which one to take.

The first is the path of darkness.

The ghost red knight watches as a woman with a long, pale braid walks down an aisle of the graveyard toward them. She’s dressed in flowing white robes; the hem reaches halfway up her thighs. The moonlight catches on the golden cross strung across her neck. The spirit can feel it’s presence, its energy radiating off this person, like heat rising off a hotplate. They’re scared. Their face is pale, lips pressed tightly together, eyes wide. And though they don’t make any threatening gestures, Ghost knows they mean no harm.

"What do you want?" the woman asks as she stops in front of The Red Knight.

"We serve the same lord, so we're here on the same mission. I wish to parley with you."

"What are you?"

The Red Knight doesn't answer; he simply tilts his head.

"Why are you here? What do you want? What is your name, demon?"

The Red Knight looks around. They are in a graveyard.

"Can we win this battle?" The frightened woman asks of her companions.

"I don't know."

"Then why are you here? Do you wish to die? This is a world of darkness. Why would you choose this path? Are you suicidal?"

Silent, the trio walks through the cemetery, heading toward the demon's former territory.

The undead and the demons used to be one of the most powerful forces on the dragon's realm, until a long time ago.

Their voice rings out in the dark, loud enough to catch the attention of other villagers milling about nearby. They look up. The three are engulfed by a shadowy black spectre.

The black figure growls, revealing sharp claws. It's horrifying visage pierces through the fog of the other's fear.

"You cannot win this battle," The spectre says. "But you three may still survive and escape with your lives."

"Who are you, Ghost. Speak. Tell us your name!"

“My name is Tinsel Mango Lemonsauce. What’s going on here?” The words are spoken heavily accented, but still understandable. The spirit feels as though this woman should know the answer. As the question comes out of her mouth, they think back to their conversation with their master.

"We came here to speak with you about the war," The Red Knight says.

"Ah, the war. It's been going on for centuries. What can three little people do?"

They're in trouble. There's no doubt about it. With their small stature, they can't hope to win this fight on their own. But they need to figure out a way out of this predicament, fast.

"The clans have gathered for an army," Ghost says. "If you wish to join us, you can. I can grant you passage through the skies above this land; you can avoid the demons completely."

"What? There's not supposed to be any fighting!"

"There will be if the emperor gets his way. He plans to unite all the clans under his rule, and bring this war to the world."

The spirit is not human. It’s not alive. It’s not even a ghost. It’s just a thing. A thing that lives inside the body of someone else—a creature called a Thullid.

Oh yes, indeed! A Thullid. Terrible creatures who eat your brains! We've heard of them destroying entire villages! That's why we've gotta stop them!

The villagers look from one to the other.

It was created as a weapon. One for slaughter and destruction. For war. That’s what they’ve been made for. But who will be the first to use them?

"We need to stop fighting and make peace," The Red Knight says. "I will join you."

"We need someone to go with us," the man says.