"The smell's getting stronger over here."

"I'm telling you, this is a trap."

"Shut it! I'm too hungry to care."

Three dwarves walk into a trap.

Everyone knew it was a trap. They knew it, the hunter obviously knew it, and the sizzling mounds of charred ComCats knew it. Even the still twitching, disemboweled mama ComCat knew that she was just a cog in a cruel machine.

Regardless, three emaciated dwarves held their weapons at the ready, eyes darting every which way even though the cramped corridor was brightly lit. One held a spear, poking at the floor as if he were a blind man while the other two walked back to back.

"Who kills ComCats, cooks them, and then leaves them be? This is 100% a trap."

"Not if they're dead. "

"Quit elbowing me. But yeah. If it's one of those newbies, they're probably dead as a doornail."

"Maybe they ran? I'd run too if I were up against a pack of feral Cats and a Matron."

"I still think it's a trap. It can't not be a trap."

The spear-carrying dwarf berated the other two without tearing his eyes away from the bounty before him.

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"You two lovebirds can find a private corner to yank each other's beards. More meat for me."

"I know that was an insult, but my stomach just caressed me back, so I'll let it slide."

Despite their hunger, they took their time poking and prodding everything they could. There was nowhere to hide. There were no pitfalls, snares, or spikey traps waiting to be sprung. As far as the dwarves could tell the only things here were corpses.

"I'll grab the first bite."

"Oi. Are you really gonna eat it like that? The skin's charred and the inside's probably mush."

"Better than dropping dead right 'ere."

"Wait a tick and we can prepare it. I got a pan in my pack."

"I ain't sharing."

"There's two for each of us."

The third dwarf with the spear once again interrupted the other two.

"Bicker all you want. The big one's mine."

The spear struck the mama ComCat's corpse. Except it continued to sink deeper, pulled by an unknown force. The dwarf who held onto his weapon quickly regretted it when a meaty fist wrapped its thick fingers around his throat.

He was lifted into the air as a skeleton exploded from the viscera. Sitting in that skeleton were pounds of muscles and underneath those pounds of muscles was scarlet gore-covered skin. The layers of horror that burst forth were an amalgamation of nightmares that thoroughly petrified the pitiful dwarves.

"Suprise, bitch."

"Mommy?"

"I ain't you're momma."

He might have screamed or wet himself if a bent sword hadn't pierced his heart.

Leaving the sword in the limp dwarf's body, the creature released it absently.

The other two shook like leaves. They watched the devil, waiting breathlessly for its next move.

Its head turned, intestines slopping off. The face that was revealed to them was somehow worse than everything that came before. Its teeth were pristine.

"If your name is Shamus, you get to live."

There was a pregnant pause while the remaining dwarves turned to look at each other. Then, as if they agreed beforehand...

"I'm Shamus!"

They both raised their hands proudly.

"Ah. I lied. I have to kill Shamus. I suppose I'll have to kill you both just to be sure."

The towering monstrosity paced forward leisurely, shaking its head sourly.

"I could have used one of you."