Cedar began her descent into the canyon, her mind replaying the twenty seconds it had taken for the plate to drop. She tried to recall the calculations needed to determine the distance of a twenty-second fall.
I have to multiply twenty by itself—that’s four hundred feet . . . but I’m definitely higher than four hundred feet. I’m missing a step.
The licorice rope creaked like leather as her full weight settled into it.
I need to multiply it again. Four hundred by something else—but what’s the other number?
It didn’t matter. The height was irrelevant; what mattered now was getting down safely. Keeping her shoulders up and her head down, she tucked her chin against her chest, focusing on the stone pillar in front of her to avoid glimpsing the scene below.
She knew the dungeon was a fabrication; none of it was real. Death no longer frightened her since she’d experienced it. What troubled her most were the images. Some things, once seen, could never be unseen. The vision of Satan seated upon his disproportionately large throne, with the vague sense that he was watching her, had lodged itself in her mind, sowing demonic seeds of doubt.
Screams wafted up to her ears, some nearer than others. The distant cries sounded like wind howling through a tunnel, while the closer shrieks made her ears twinge—like the guttural retch of a cat or dog about to vomit, or the jarring buzz of an early alarm clock after a late night. The cacophony of human suffering churned her stomach, bile threatening to rise.
And then there was the smell—a stench so foul it was almost alive. It wasn’t just raw sewage; it was stale blood and bile. It was like cheese left to fester in an unwashed belly button, mingled with the ammonia tang of saturated kitty litter.
As the licorice rope lowered her further, Cedar felt her legs begin to scorch, the infernal heat licking at her skin. The hazy, fiery atmosphere of hell enveloped her once again. She’d thought she’d grown accustomed to the searing temperature, but the reprieve she’d felt in the tunnel and atop the safety of the pillar had been temporary.
Sixteen. I have to multiply four hundred by sixteen.
“Six thousand four hundred feet,” she calculated aloud.
Even though it was more than a mile drop, Cedar remained unfazed. Heights didn’t intimidate her. As a child, she had always sought out the tallest trees to climb. But a new concern gnawed at her.
Will the licorice withstand the heat?
The worst-case scenario—falling to her death—didn’t particularly trouble her. What irked her more was the idea of having to start all over again. The licorice had to hold, or she needed to find another energy sphere—an extra life. The last thing she wanted was to confront Ari outside, the one person who doubted her success. She was determined to erase that arrogant smile clean from his face.
Please hold. Please hold. Please hold.
The licorice rope creaked and swayed as Cedar looked up to the top of the pillar. Her hands began to sweat inside her gloves, leaving finger-shaped indents where she gripped the rope.
She risked a glance downward. Rivers of sludge intertwined with streams of lava, tangling the landscape below into an unappetizing spaghetti of molten chaos. Groups of people, tiny as ants, dotted the scene, trapped in some cruel design and forced to participate in unspeakable activities. Cedar could only imagine the horrors they were enduring.
This dungeon is definitely rated M for Mature.
As time passed, the scattered groups below began to come into focus. She could almost distinguish their individual cries for help. So far, her strategy of bypassing the dungeon’s levels by being lowered seemed effective. Seeing the levels stacked upon one another cemented her conviction: this wasn’t just her best choice—it was her only choice. She clung to the licorice rope as though it were her lifeline, treasuring it even as she gave it a tentative lick.
“Yech.” Black licorice. Disgusting.
The intelligence she’d gleaned from the enchanted ice cream began to fade, her thoughts fuzzing over as she doubted its lingering effects. Still, she marveled at how it had sharpened her mind, allowing her to calculate the canyon’s depth—a mental feat she wouldn’t have managed on her own.
How else would I have figured that out?
The licorice rope began to leave a sticky black residue on her gloves—a worrying sign that it was starting to melt.
As the ground drew closer, the fetid stench of sulfur, rot, and despair hit her like a wall. Cedar tugged her cloak over her nose and mouth, the fabric providing a small but welcome shield from the odorous assault. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes in a futile attempt to dissociate from the reality of being lowered into Satan’s lair.
Peering downward again, she scouted for a safe landing spot. Smoke curled upward from the thin fissures in the scorched earth, joining the smog that thickened the air. The atmosphere felt as dense and fuzzy as an old woolen carpet soaked in filth.
A thick drop of licorice oozed down her glove, trailing along her arm. Cedar’s resolve wavered as the rope grew thinner, its texture softening into something butter-like. Clenching the rope tighter, she shut her eyes against the impending doom. Black goop smeared her gloves and torso, dripping like syrup.
“Please God, please God, please God.”
The streams of licorice cascaded down her arms, soaking her clothes.
“No, no, no! Don’t do this. Please don’t do this,” Cedar begged. She was soon enveloped in a thick gauze of black candy, feeling the rope shrink beneath her desperate grip. Powerless, she braced for the inevitable last strand to snap.
“Crap.”
Contrary to her fears, Cedar landed on her feet. The ground met her faster than she had anticipated, the suddenness stealing her breath. Relief was fleeting, though, as a torrential wave of liquefied licorice crashed down on her, slamming into her face and knocking her to the ground.
She rolled away from the sticky flood, accruing a layer of dirt that clung stubbornly to her goo-covered body. Everything stuck to her—dust, grime, and bits of debris.
Wiping the gunk from her eyes, Cedar stumbled as she stood. Quickly, she reached for her sword and readied herself for battle. Luckily, the ghouls hadn’t noticed her.
Now, looking every bit a part of the demonic landscape, Cedar’s only clean feature was the whites of her eyes. Her movements were severely hindered by the weight of the molasses-laden cloak. She kicked at its bottom half, trying to shed the excess sap.
She began navigating the terrain, weaving through occasional towers of igneous rock that dotted the area. The lack of cover made her keenly aware of her vulnerability—only the subtle slopes of low hills and the sinister rivers of malice separated her from potential execution.
Atop the nearest hill sat a cage teeming with scantily clad inmates. Intrigued, Cedar moved toward it, leaving a sticky trail of residue with each step.
The closest enemies, engrossed in the grisly task of flaying a man, were about a hundred yards away, leaving the cage unguarded. As Cedar drew closer, she noted that the enclosure seemed to be made from the same infernal materials as the demons themselves. The bars radiated a red glow, discouraging the prisoners from touching them—and from attempting to escape.
The inmates met Cedar’s approach with nothing but hostile glares.
“Hey there. How’s everybody doing?” she asked.
Their faces, etched with bitterness and hatred, showed no hint of acknowledgment. The cage held both men and women, though it was hard to tell them apart. Their swollen, deeply lined features gave them a uniform appearance, like Shar Peis stripped of any charm.
“Do y’all want out of this rig?” Cedar asked, rapping the bars with her sword.
Again, no response. Cedar began to wonder if it might be safer to leave them imprisoned—for her own protection. She also considered whether it would be rude to jab one with her blade to see if it yielded an energy sphere.
“Or does anyone want a quick death? I can provide that for you.”
Are their ears not working?
“For free,” she added, hoping to provoke some reaction.
A demon broke the quiet. “One of them got out,” a deep, gravelly voice announced behind her, more annoyed than angry.
Cedar spun around to face the source: a hulking beast with biceps like boulders and horns that added several feet to its already towering stature.
The prisoners found their voices then, jeering and howling in anticipation of the fight.
“Hey, whose side are you on?”
The smoldering behemoth charged, its bulky form slowing its advance. Cedar dashed to the opposite side of the cage, leaving the devil glaring at her from across the enclosure. It didn’t take long for him to realize chasing her in circles would be futile. Instead, he fixed his yellow eyes on her, calculating, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
Cedar eyed her small daggers and thin sword, doubting they would do much damage against the hulking foe. Her pockets were stuffed with food but contained nothing remotely capable of turning her into a giant to match the demon. She needed a plan, and fast.
As a way to antagonize the beast, Cedar struck the bars with her sword and noticed fragments of it had chipped away, revealing their brittleness.
Of course Satan wouldn’t care about good craftsmanship.
An idea sparked—freeing the captives could create just enough chaos for Cedar to high-tail it out of there unnoticed. She focused her efforts on breaking the enclosure.
She banged the rods with renewed force, keeping a wary eye on the looming creature on the opposite side of the cage. The metal—if it could even be called that—was either of pitifully low quality or her sword held a power she hadn’t fully appreciated. It didn’t take many swings before one of the bars began to loosen.
A stout prisoner, sensing an opportunity, rammed his shoulder against the weakened ember-red bars. His action sparked a collective uprising. Fueled by desperation and the prospect of freedom, the captives threw their weight behind his effort, their combined strength pushing the cage to its breaking point.
Cedar stepped back as the prisoners, now mere inches from liberation, surged forward. Moments later, the cage burst open, unleashing a flood of emaciated, desperate individuals. To her astonishment, their focus was singular and surprisingly coordinated—they turned their fury on the giant.
Cedar joined the fray, bolstered by a small army of vengeful escapees. The prisoners fought with raw, unbridled ferocity, resorting to any tactic they could muster. They exploited the monster’s vulnerabilities, while Cedar focused on its back. Her blade sliced through its outer layer of brimstone, revealing a core of pulsating fire.
Seizing the moment, she drove her sword into the glowing breach. The behemoth staggered, roared, and collapsed in a heap, its body imploding as the flames within were extinguished. Victory was fleeting, however, as two more giants lumbered into view.
The clash that followed was brutal. Cedar’s makeshift militia crumbled around her. One by one, her allies fell, reduced to mere remnants of their former selves—all except for one.
A diminutive prisoner, overlooked until now, stood a short distance from the carnage. He twisted the front of his soiled shirt in his hands as he watched the unfolding horror with wide, anxious eyes.
When the last ally fell, only Cedar and the small man remained, staring down the final giant. The creature’s gaze shifted, settling on Cedar with lethal intent.
“Hey, y-y-you! Hey, you—you jerk! Over here!” the small man stammered, his voice shaking as he flailed his arms to draw the monster’s attention.
Cedar watched, momentarily frozen, as the dumb beast turned its back on Cedar.
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She charged, thrusting her blade with all her might. The sword punctured the demon’s thick hide, cutting through its core and emerging victorious on the other side.
The beast’s defeat was marked by its sagging shoulders and eventual collapse to its knees, narrowly missing the quivering man who had risked everything in a moment of unexpected bravery.
“Thanks,” Cedar acknowledged, retrieving her sword with a slick pull.
“Th-th-thank y-you,” the man stammered.
Cedar took a moment to reassess her surroundings, locating Satan’s throne before she made to leave.
“W-w-wait,” the man called after her.
“You don’t want to go where I’m headed, trust me,” Cedar warned.
“You are going to th-th-the throne, yes?”
Cedar furrowed her brow. “How do you know that?”
“That is where all y-you p-p-people go.”
“What people?”
“Y-y-your types. Others.” The man lowered his head. “Strangers.”
“And you, what? Want to help?” Cedar sized him up. Her left butt cheek probably weighed more than he did. He looked like a skeleton wearing a skin suit for Halloween.
The man raised a spindly arm and pointed toward the throne. “I know a safe passage. I’ll take y-you if you will follow.”
He probably wants protection, Cedar thought. She had no reason to fear the guy—she could snap him like a twig with her eyelashes alone. Leaving him out here, though, was as good as signing his death sentence. As it turned out, Cedar had a soft spot for NPCs.
“Okay,” she consented. “I don’t see the harm in that.”
“Follow me, I’ll t-t-take you,” the man said with surprising enthusiasm. He darted ahead, leaving Cedar momentarily stunned by his burst of energy.
“I’m right behind you.”
A river of lava bisected their path. The man vaulted over it effortlessly, while Cedar struggled with the landing. Her cloak, encrusted with the weight of molasses, dragged her down. Removing it wasn’t an option—the air itself was hot enough to sear her skin. For now, it would have to stay on.
The man, undeterred by Cedar’s slower pace, continued his sprint, not glancing back to check if she was still in tow.
“You’re fast,” Cedar huffed. “Wait up, will ya?”
He didn’t respond. Whether out of obliviousness or deliberate disregard, his silence made her nervous.
“Slow down! Where are we going?” Cedar called again.
Still, he gave no acknowledgment.
The haunting cries that Cedar had grown accustomed to in this cursed place were now drowned out by the alarm bells of her intuition, growing louder as sounds of commotion reached her ears.
She stopped in her tracks as the man crested a hill and disappeared from view. From beyond the hilltop came the unmistakable clamor of a gathering. Instinctively, she drew her sword.
“Screw it, I’m out of here.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than a troupe of horned beasts crested the hill, striding on bent legs in a twisted parody of bipedalism.
With the last of the licorice finally shed from her clothing, Cedar’s mobility was significantly improved. Clinging to this small advantage, she bolted, leaving behind a sticky puddle of molten molasses.
Caught in the midst of her harrowing escape, Cedar’s mind wandered to her friends.
I wonder what they’re up to right now?
They were her chosen family, bound together since high school. Over the years, new friends got woven into the pile, creating an eclectic mix of motley mayhem whenever they got together.
What would they say if they could see her now—covered in licorice, fleeing demons, with dead blood worms under her skin?
A wry smile tugged at her lips despite the terror of the moment. Her friends would’ve found a comical angle, no matter how dire the situation.
This is funny, not horrifying, she told herself. They found humor in everything—especially when it involved me.
The thought brought her fleeting comfort before darkening. Her mind shifted to Ari—the reason she was here, trapped in this nightmarish dungeon. He’d put her here, forcing her into an unbeatable challenge. No doubt, he was waiting to console her after her inevitable failure.
“F-f-follow me! I can help you.”
The voice startled her out of her thoughts. The little man had appeared again, persistent in his offer of aid.
“No way. You’re trouble,” Cedar snapped.
“I know of a safe passage.”
Exhaustion was settling in. Her tongue was once again dry as dirt, and her legs threatened to give out.
“Up here! Up ahead!” the little man called, darting ahead. Cedar trailed behind, struggling to keep pace. He stopped at an opening in the ground and pointed down into it. “Safe passage! Th-th-there. Inside!”
Approaching the gap, Cedar squinted as pungent fumes rose to meet her, burning her eyes. A hiss of steam escaped the cylindrical hole.
“In there is safe?” she questioned.
“Yes, safe,” the man assured with a nod.
“I might as well be jumping into Satan’s asshole. How can I trust you?”
The little man shrugged, his thin shoulders twitching nervously as he glanced back at the oncoming horde. “I’ll g-g-go first!” he offered.
Without waiting for a response, he hopped feet-first into the hole. Cedar turned to see the beasts closing in fast. She was out of time. Her choices, as always, were limited: stay, run, or dive into Satan’s asshole.
With a resigned sigh, Cedar clipped her sword to her belt, closed her eyes, plugged her nose, and jumped.
She landed with a splash, grateful she’d thought to plug her nose beforehand. The water was the same sewage that snaked alongside the rivers of lava, reeking of rot and filth. Even with her headlamp, the darkness was impenetrable. Cedar flailed, struggling to locate the hole she had jumped through, but it was nowhere to be found.
A powerful current tugged at her body, dragging her along despite her efforts to swim against it. The current spun her in a dizzying loop, swirling her toward an indented center.
“Oh no, oh no, oh magosh no,” she sputtered.
The little man was nowhere in sight. He must have been flushed away already. Before she could process what was happening, the current grew stronger, sucking her under the sewage and whisking her down a chute.
The tube rocketed her forward at an alarming speed. Cedar clenched her arms and legs in a dart-like position, protecting them from any jagged rocks that might protrude into the flume. The nauseating ride twisted and turned, sending her stomach into flips.
After several seconds of being hurled through the dark, Cedar felt the weightlessness of freefall. She shot out of the chute geyser-style and soared through the air before landing stomach-first onto something soft and squishy.
Coughing up the foul water that had forced its way up her nose, Cedar pushed herself upright. She took in her surroundings, realizing she was now trapped inside a brimstone cage alongside other humans.
“That double-crossing son of a bitch,” she muttered.
Her gaze shifted downward to inspect the squishy surface that had broken her fall. A decomposed body stared back—chewed up and partially digested. The remnants of its face resembled a mask, loosely draped over a shattered skull. Its eyeholes misaligned, not matching their sockets.
And then, to Cedar’s horror, one of its sagging eyelids winked.
A raspy rattle emanated from the body’s drooping mouth. Was it alive? Cedar stumbled back, heart pounding, as the corpse’s chest inflated with a shallow breath.
“No way.”
She scanned the other bodies in the cage—masticated remnants strewn across the floor—and froze as they, too, began to stir.
Zombies.
Her eyes caught the little man in the corner, wringing his shirt between his bony hands. His head was bowed, but his eyes alert.
“You,” Cedar growled.
At her voice, the little man’s head shot up. His face lit with recognition, and he scrambled toward the bars, clamoring for release. Cedar intercepted him, seizing his arm in a crushing grip.
“Where did you bring me? What is this place?”
“It is a place of healing,” he stammered. “C-can’t you see?”
“Don’t bullshit me, little man,” Cedar snapped, giving his arm a hard yank. “We’re in a damned cage.”
“It’s t-t-to keep you safe,” he protested, voice trembling.
“Then why were you screaming to be let out?” Cedar’s eyes narrowed. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
The little man shook his head frantically, retreating until his back hit the smoldering bars. Cedar pinned him there, pressing him against the embers. He let out a pained cry as the heat scorched his shoulders.
“Who are you?” Cedar demanded.
“They f-f-feed us when we’re good,” he whimpered. “I only wanted t-t-to eat.”
Cedar’s grip slackened, and she let him step away from the bars. His back was a blackened ruin, the charred flesh flaking as he moved.
“It’s no wonder you’re in hell.”
Tears streamed down the little man’s sunken cheeks.
Outside the cage, Cedar’s eyes fell upon the longest table she had ever seen. Hulking chairs carved from igneous rock encircled it, with the largest throne at the head. One beast sat at the table, bone utensils arrayed neatly before him.
It dawned on Cedar with chilling clarity: she was intended to be the main course in a grotesque feast.
“Here we go again,” said a large, naked woman standing beside Cedar. Open wounds on her body were sealing themselves shut as she spoke.
“What’s happening? What is this place?” Cedar asked.
“They eat us, shit us out, and we’re back here for another round,” the woman said with the detachment of someone commenting on the weather. “You’re new here. Fresh meat. They’ll save you for last. For the piggy.”
“The piggy? You mean Satan?”
The woman chortled. “No. We never see him.”
Cedar offered a sarcastic laugh. “No, of course not.”
Out of habit, Cedar explored her cheek with her tongue, searching for the wound left by the blood worm. It was gone. Patting herself down, she found her body intact. Aside from the loss of the two water bottles from her back pockets, her essentials were still with her. She contemplated whether it was possible to sneak a sip of water unnoticed.
Cedar edged toward the back of the cage, facing the grand entrance of the dining hall. She discreetly pulled a bottle of water from her cargo pocket, unscrewed the cap, and raised it to her parched lips.
Then she saw them.
A procession of muscle-bound, horned demons entered the hall, their eyes exploring the cage with predatory interest.
“Let me out! I brought you f-f-fresh meat. Fresh meat!” the little man shrieked, rushing toward the bars.
Cedar spat out her water in alarm. “Hey, shut up!”
“She’s right here!” The little man pointed at Cedar, who was already unclipping her sword from her belt.
“Shut him up,” one of the demons growled.
Sword in hand, Cedar stepped forward and drove the blade into the little man’s chest. Blood sprayed as he coughed, his sorrowful eyes looking at hers.
“She’s right here,” he managed to croak.
Cedar yanked the blade free, but the little man pressed his hand over the wound, seemingly unfazed by what should have been fatal.
“Let him out,” one of the demons commanded with a dismissive wave.
The large woman burst into laughter. “You can’t kill us, stupid,” she said, hands on her ample hips. “We taste better when we’re eaten alive. Duh.”
“Of course, what was I thinking?” Cedar laughed nervously.
The demons circled the cage, their voracious eyes appraising the captives.
“I claim the biggie this time,” declared one demon.
“No way,” argued another. “It’s my turn with the biggie—you had your go last time.”
The little man was led out of the cage by a leash.
“Move it, dog. Git in yer corner.”
“Y-y-yes, sir.”
Cedar watched as the demons salivated, their guttural grunts of anticipation filling the air.
“This stuff keeps us alive until the very end,” a grizzled man whispered to her, wiping sewage water from his hairy chest.
“You’ve done this before?” Cedar asked. “How many times?”
“I lost count. It’s best not to fight them. If you fight, they’ll take you somewhere even worse.”
“What’s worse than being eaten alive?”
The grizzled man nodded toward a particularly well-endowed demon. The creature’s fiery appendage dangled menacingly like a sinister omen.
“Use your imagination,” the man said grimly. Cedar’s hand flew to her mouth in horror.
“Come here,” barked a demon, yanking a chubby man from the cell. The captive was swiftly hog-tied. Once bound, he was hoisted onto the table and placed on his stomach, ankles tied to his wrists.
“I can’t watch this. This is nuts,” Cedar said, turning away in revulsion.
How could Ari allow this?
“This has gone too far, Ari!” she screamed. “Do you hear me? Let me out!”
The demons continued pulling their “entrees” from the cage, binding them in the same fashion as the first.
“Menu!” Cedar shouted desperately, invoking the command for the glorious manu of delights. Nothing happened. She touched the circle ingrained in her temple—it was still there, cool against her skin.
“Menu!” she tried again.
“You’re on the m-ma-menu tonight,” the little man taunted from outside the cell, his ghastly grin revealing long, yellowed teeth that looked disturbingly inhuman.
All but one demon had taken their seats at the table, each with a victim before them. The largest demon, who hadn’t yet selected his meal, locked his glowing eyes on Cedar. The only sound that reached her ears was the deliberate clack of his hooves as he approached.
Cedar brandished her sword, her arms barely holding steady. She wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
“Don’t fight him,” the grizzled man reminded from his place at the table.
“You’re lucky to be here,” the fat woman mocked, crossing her eyes in a derisive sneer. “Duh.”
“You’re all mad,” Cedar shouted at them. “You people are crazy!”
One of the demons hacked into the chubby man’s ankle with a dull cleaver until the foot came off. “Here, dog,” the demon said as he tossed the foot to the little man who bit into the still-wriggling toes.
Cedar vomited down the front of her armor without turning her head away from the approaching demon. She slashed at him every time he came close. A few demons seated at the table stood, ready to assist their leader in capturing his prey.
Think, Cedar, think. Her mind raced. Ari wouldn’t have brought you here if you weren’t ready. You can fight these guys. But how?
How was the question. Cedar slowed her breathing and studied her attackers. They appeared apprehensive, shying away from her blade instead of launching a full-on attack.
They’re not used to us fighting back.
Then, like a spark igniting, she remembered the water. The sewage water had the same properties as a health potion which meant that couldn’t die easily, if at all.
Cedar’s posture shifted. She crouched low into a practiced samurai stance, her eyes narrowing with renewed confidence.
“Bring it.”
Cedar slashed at an encroaching hand. The demon recoiled, shaking the pain from his meat hook. Another lunged at her. Cedar stepped back, dodging its attack, then expertly slipped her blade under its chin in one swift, fluid motion. The kill was instant. The beast crumbled to the floor, reduced to nothing more than a steaming pile of rubble.
And then, the bloodbath began.
Everything Cedar had learned during her time with Bryce surged back into her muscles and mind. Her movements were in sync with a quiet symphony. As light as a ballerina, she danced and weaved through a ballet of slaughter. It was the most graceful she has ever felt.
Grace.
God.
Those were the only essences filling her consciousness. She thought of nothing else, felt nothing more. Time itself seemed to cease.
When she finally came to her senses, she stood amid a pile of rubble, her chest heaving. Gashes wept blood from nearly every part of her body, though the pain hadn’t fully registered.
What just happened?
A muffled roar grew louder until it sharpened into focus: the captives clamoring their accolades.
Did I just? No way.
The little man in the corner tossed the bloody stump in Cedar’s direction as if offering a token of peace.
“You there, you mind untying me?” the grizzled man called from atop the table.
Cedar absently walked over and sliced through the man’s restraints.
“Thanks,” he said, rubbing his raw wrists.
“Yeah, whatever,” Cedar replied, still numb from the incident. “Which way to the throne?”
“I’ll show you,” the man offered.
“No!” Cedar yelped louder than intended. “No, I’ll figure it out. Thanks anyway.”
Leaving the damned behind, she limped out of the dining hall into the oppressive, hellish air. Reaching into her cloak, she retrieved a protein bar. Relieved that it was still securely wrapped, she peeled it open and took a bite.
The monolith loomed closer now, its dark silhouette dominating the horizon. Cedar began to waltz toward it in a daze, her mind blissfully numb. The lack of fear made her sleepy as she nibbled on the bar.
Ari knows what he’s doing, she thought. I need to trust him more.
Bats circled above, but Cedar paid them no mind. They’d never bothered her before; why start worrying now? Instead, she embraced a quiet dignity, praising herself with a hubris bordering on arrogance.
She had done it. She was awesome. Legendary.
Her reverie was shattered when a giant bat swooped down, its talons snatching her mid-step. The protein bar tumbled from her hand as she struggled in its grip. Cedar glanced up, realizing the bat was flying her directly toward the throne. She stopped struggling, exhaling in resignation.
“Thanks for the lift, birdie.”
Relaxing her body, she let herself enjoy the impromptu ride, taking a moment to appreciate the scenery.
The bat released her at the base of the throne, leaving her sprawled on the ground.
“Cedar,” a familiar voice called.
“Ari?”
“Cedar, this is real. This dungeon, I mean. It’s real. It’s actual hell.”