Johan knew the smell. It came from exactly the same corner in which he had been earlier, the precise time was harder to tell though. He didn’t have any means of tracking how long he had been in this place, at least an hour likely but it could have been longer.

‘Heh. Good trick. No idea how you pulled it off but that’s a funny trick. I get to sleep in a room or take a break in a room that stinks of my own piss. Not funny...I don’t….I don’t…’ started Johan before he collapsed on the dusty carpeted interior. His tied together shoes pulled hard on his neck.

A lack of energy, the post-shock of adrenalin and the exhaustion of however he had been inside this office space all hit him at once. Turning his head to the side he saw either a perfect duplicate of the same office desk which he had searched through earlier. The same chair was there as well, grey walls and blinds.

Above his head the light had stopped flickering but he hadn’t been paying attention to it until it fully changed.

Half of it was brightly lit and the other half was pure darkness.

‘Good...more tricks. I could do with some light. How about a cold drink and a protein bar?’ said Johan.

He was thankful that he’d fallen down holding the Kris knife downwards so it had dug deep into the grey dusty carpeted floor. This time it hadn’t cut into his skin and gotten the opportunity to draw his blood.

Lying flat on his back he aimed his legs to kick the office chair so it ended up in front of the door.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t just hunkered down inside the room and locked himself inside, it was a defensible location or he could have climbed onto the desk and tried breaking his way out of the light fixtures into the floors above.

A light sound broke the silence as Johan lay there. He barely noticed it, so fixated on his own thoughts that it came again. Harder this time but turning his head the light above him transfixed his attention.

The ceiling fixture light flashed. Then stopped. Then flashed again. Before it turned off leaving him in pure darkness.

The sound was louder this time and in the immediate absence of light Johan heard it. The light above his head began flickering again but dimmed as though threatening to entirely turn out.

Knocking. There was someone knocking on the outside window. Taking a deep breath in Johan tensed up, holding his breath as the knocking sound carried on but moving. Across and up the outside window and then it stopped.

Johan released a breath and heard the handle move. Then a knocking on the door, this time more violent shook him up. His hand still gripping tightly onto the Kris knife embedded in the floor he pulled it off and pulled his shoes off from around his neck and let them fly and hit the door.

The door handle shifted again as Johan heard another sound, one that he was familiar enough with during the various times he’d watched horror films. Moaning. The knocking on the door came again, this time from the office window and also from the door.

More than one of whatever people had been hired were outside. Likely people in costume or more workers like himself. There were a few too many variables to focus on so Johan simply decided on the simplest type of common office monster.

‘Zombies. Great. This is all kinds of messed up. Fine, if I’m going to die then let’s do it with a final fight.’ said Johan.

He stabbed the knife into the carpet below his feet and sliced through a decent section before ripping it up with two hands and holding it out in front of him as an impromptu shield. He’d at least be able to push the zombie back before it took a decent bite out of him.

Rethinking his strategy, Johan cut even more carpet from the floor and stuffed a few thinner pieces down his business suit trousers. He’d used protection before and it wasn’t a bad idea in case he was bitten in the wrong area.

At least that was the general idea. Stuffing pieces of carpets down his trousers was becoming uncomfortable and he would have preferred to pack it underneath a shirt to make some makeshift armour.

Holding his Kris knife in one hand and his rolled up length of carpet with the other Johan briefly considered drawing more of his blood with the dagger. Slashing it across the palm of his hand to give it more blood would result in a much larger flame which would have a greater effect but he wasn’t clear on what it would accomplish aside from making the metal brighter.

The scent of flesh blood for whatever was beyond the door to the office could also increase the chances of him being rushed and Johan had seen too many horror films involving zombies or humans who had been infected with viruses and fungus to offer that up.

Johan also reminded himself that the fact that he was even considering using a knife to cut his own flesh further was a completely insane idea. So was the fact that he was still standing in front of a locked door which he hadn’t even thought of barricading with the desk or the chair inside the room.

I’m already a little bit mad then. No more cutting though. At least not on my flesh. Your turn.

Psychologically preparing himself the moans outside the door increased in volume and this time there were what sounded like multiple hands smacking themselves on the glass and the door this time.

Johan had no clue exactly why they hadn’t just smashed their way through the windows or the door but he supposed that there was a hidden camera inside the room recording his actions while a whole bunch of rich people or sadists drank fruit juice and watched his erratic behaviour.

He’d give them a decent show. Flipping the Kris knife so it was facing upwards Johan took a step forward and opened the lock on the door before taking several steps back. When they decided to rush him he’d be prepared and could take down at least one or two until he was incapacitated again and brought to the next place of this nightmare.

‘Yeah. YEAH! LET’S GO! COME ON! LET’S GOOOO!’ shouted Johan as the door swung open with force and slammed into the wall causing dust to rise from the grey carpet and the wall behind.

A single figure stood in the doorway. Large enough that Johan couldn’t even see their head, only an expensive business suit with a massive physical build. Hands large enough to crush his entire head in one palm flexed enclosed inside black leather gloves.

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A pair of heavy black boots which had been polished and gave off a bright enough shine which made no sense to Johan. The entire outfit of the giant gave off a bright glow even though behind him the light remained half on and half off.

Before Johan could take a step back an enormous fist smashed through the top of the doorway causing dust and debris to fall down and a voice rang out. The same electronic voice that Johan had heard earlier from the office intercom but this time it came from the huge suited figure blocking the door.

Stumbling backwards Johan held the Kris knife out. He was prepared to fight and use his blade and carpet shield but judging by the size of the individual in front of him, he didn’t know if they’d been grown or were a mechanical prop. No regular human could grow to that size without breaking their own spine.

The figure remained outside the room despite damaging the top of the doorway. Moving faster than he thought possible he backed away towards the desk in in the room and crouched behind it on the other side.

A hand came sweeping down and picked up Johan’s tied together shoes which had been thrown at the door before and threw them back at the wall behind Johan. The sudden impact made him duck down further and he caught a glimpse of a greyish bald face wearing black sunglasses and a pork pie hat. The face angry with a sneer before it moved back through the doorway and stood straight swaying and clenching and unclenching its hands into fists.

Partially bolstered by the fact that he was now behind a wooden desk and the fact that despite the figure showing anger and that it was a sheer tank of an individual it’d done nothing more threatening to him than punch through the top of the doorway, shout and throw his own shoes back at him Johan responded.

‘Not like I had a choice. Freak. You can tell your rich bosses that they need to build toilet facilities in their nightmare dungeon. No food, no drink and anyone you dump in here is going to starve to death. You want to know what was in my bag? This knife. Come and take it you overgrown freak!’ said Johan.

He was half-expecting the huge figure to smash through the rest of the doorway or through the wall as an alternative. Given the size of the figure and it’s obvious strength he doubted that he’d been able to do much aside from try to aim for the head with this knife. As long as he was able knock off the sunglasses, even getting a blade into an eyeball could give him time to get past and out of the doorway.

Johan experienced an urge to use the edge of the blade on his fingers again, to let it partake in a small amount of his blood in exchange for a boost. An outside force or influence was affecting him judging from how the urge grew, that or Johan was simply experiencing the beginnings of a complete psychotic breakdown.

<….You are toxic. A total toxic individual who wants to drain all my creativity. I don’t know which Player God sent you to mess with me but I’m not playing your game. Even that...where did you get that knife from? Give it to me. I need to examine it. Are you even an avatar? No way should you have gotten hold of base system code. A player? No, I wasn’t notified of your arrival and besides I still need to make sure my scenarios are up and running. Hey. Hey are you even listening to me? I need to see that knife.> said the figure.

Shaking his head Johan held the knife higher up.

‘No way. You want it then you need to come and get it. What do you mean Player God? Aren’t you a so-called god? You want to torture me some more? I’m dying from lack of food and drink here. You want to talk? Give me something to eat and drink.’ said Johan.

He kept his back slightly away from the wall just in case another figure decided to smash through it behind him and grab him. Negotiation was a valid tactic but his body and mind were getting harder to focus, without using his blood on the knife he was becoming fully aware of how drained and tired he actually was.

Given the height of the doorway, Johan reckoned that the figure was around 2.3 metres high at least. Not many humans could grow that large without their own bones breaking so likely this was either a prop or a construct used to scare people into getting the results that they wanted.

said the figure.

Lying about the nature of the situation was a thought that Johan swiftly discarded. If he had been in a position where he could have successfully escaped or had a decent chance of getting past the massive figure then he would have tried.

He’d tried to express himself but the figure hadn’t been listening to him during their earlier conversation with the office camera and intercom, if it had been the same person. Judging from how they were speaking complete nonsense which to his ears came across as a fantasist who imagined that they were living in a video game world they were severely delusional.

‘Food and drink first. Then we talk. Or the knife doesn’t move from my hand. Unless you want to risk sending in one of your little discards to try and take it. I’ll compromise. I’m going to hold this little knife but rest my hand on the table and in return you give me some space, back away from the door at least five metres with your freak of a body and give me something to eat and drink. All I want to do is leave this place and you can keep the knife and whatever else as long as you let me leave.’ said Johan.

Forcing a sense of control into his voice as though he was talking back to the Human Resources Director as he had earlier today from his perspective, Johan forced a smile on his face and imitated the same vacant gaze.

Keep it calm and try and work this out Johan. Steady with crazy people.

‘Food and drink and we talk. You got me, I’m actually a player. Someone messed up and made a mistake and sent me to the wrong place. Not an avatar.’ said Johan.

said the figure.

As though to prove its point one of its hands swept up and brushed the debris on the impacted area above the doorway causing even more broken remnants to fall onto the carpet below.

Still behind the desk, Johan quickly ran through his options. He could fight or talk but his body was beginning to become weaker as time went on, he assumed that whatever drugs had been used to bring him into this place were beginning to wear off or his body was simply thirsty and hungry beyond his normal tolerance.

Aside from an ache in his stomach and a marginally parched throat he couldn’t remember how long he’d been here, let alone the last time he’d rested. His mind was beginning to fray even further. Talking, he’d have to talk. Even to give him a little more time to work out a solution.

Stabbing the Kris knife into the surface of the desk to get the attention of the figure standing just beyond the office doorway he pulled himself up, steadying his weakening body upright with one hand. Then he responded.

‘Andy Darr stabbed with me with this blade. Are you the owner of Beneath Nightmare Dungeon?’ questioned Johan as his thoughts became fuzzier.