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The Beginning

You know what sucks about being a dungeon? So far everyone I have met expects me to be some Frankenstein hybrid of a serial killer, a carnivorous tiger, and a messiah of war. As a dungeon, it is apparently my only goal in life to rip out the entrails of people that entered my home. As fun as it would be to dance on the graves of my victims and grind their bones into dust because they dared to desecrate my inner sanctuary, I don’t want to. Personally that’s just not my cup of tea. I mean I can understand those violent urges to feast on the delicious, warm blood of my prey. That’s normal, a lot of people have urges like that right? If you answered yes… well I am not sure how I would react considering I understand you now. 

    But normal people will say you have issues. Me, I know I have got issues. First off I am literally a dungeon right now. I deduced this since I am a crystal surrounded by rock and being a dungeon is all the rage with fantasy novels right now. Second I don’t know how this happened. I last remember reading the news while trying to think of something to do. Third I don’t know how to reach my families and friends. Lacking a body, being trapped under solid rock, and possibly being on another world makes contacting relatives difficult. Next presumably any real people I meet will want to kill me. This is the cliché role for dungeons. On top of all that I have some other slight challenges to deal—

Voice 1: “There is no help for you, your domain is of blood and death. Take your rightful place as the harbinger of sorrow and pain. Kill all those that enter and use their pitiful remains as nourishment”

Voice 2: “You are boundless, without flaw, and the incarnation of doom. Feed and grow so that you may spread your holy grace. There are no challenges that you cannot overcome. You radiant and divine.”

Me: …

Voice 1: “You are the end of all things, and the beginning. Those worthy will be sacrificed to benefit you, the rest shall be culled. They will experience torture for your pleas— “

Me: “SHUT THE FUCK UP. What did I say before? What did I fucking say before? I said, I will have my private time to talk to an imaginary friend and have a fucking mental break down. That’s all I wanted. It should not be hard to ask for. You guys are voices in my head and I am the dungeon core, so obey me… I guess? Now I am going to continue my inner monologue is that clear?”

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Voice 2: “Yes master”

Voice 1: “I am here to offer guidance; I cannot simply leave you alone. You must massacre your enemies and I will help you.”

Me: “Just let me finish my monologue I will pretend to listen to whatever you have to say alright Voice 1?”

Voice 1: “That is acceptable.”

Me: “(sigh) Good and voice 2 a little morbid but thank you for the compliments. Practice a little more and I think you can be a good motivational speaker.”

Voice 2: “I most grateful master”

Me: “Anyway back to-

-what I was saying I have some other slight challenges to deal with presently. Notably I started hearing voices essentially telling me to kill everyone and become a god. Hopefully this is because I became a dungeon, I don’t want to have to question my sanity. Then again I think I became a dungeon, my sanity probably isn’t that reliable right now. I don’t know how to control these voices as they are in my head. They occasionally listen to my thoughts and speak whenever they feel like it. And I can feel myself changing slightly as a result. 

     Before dominating others would just seem like the needed mindset for a kink session. Now sometimes I want to control everything and make all life bow to me. It’s scary to say the least. Also if I am a dungeon, I don’t seem to have any defenses. And if I know anything about dungeons from binge reading fantasy novels when I should have been studying, it’s that dungeons need defenses. Granted I have only been a dungeon for what I presume is a few hours. Most of which was spent wondering if I somehow took some LSD by accident. But if I was drugged the effects should have worn off by now. So I have to face the reality that might not be real. I am a dungeon. Or I am insane. These are my stories.

Voice 1: “Now you are done with your monologue. Let us get ready to spill the blood of your enemies, you shall rule the world.”

Me: “(sigh) … shit."

This is my struggle.

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Well here is to getting things started

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