Zeni found herself at the mercy of her rapidly thudding heart, a primal fear clawing its way through her veins. The darkness that enveloped the dungeon-forest seemed to be a living thing, tendrils of inky black reaching out to brush against her skin, chilling her to the bone. She couldn't help but feel like a cornered animal, her every instinct screaming at her to flee, to escape the suffocating atmosphere that threatened to consume her.

Her breath hitched as a muffled snapping of branches echoed through the foreboding darkness, and Zeni's thoughts raced alongside her pulse. Where was Chappy? Why was he gone at such a crucial moment? A cold sweat dampened her brow as she grappled with the unnerving sense of abandonment. The one companion she had relied on for any semblance of security was gone, leaving her to face the horrors of the dungeon alone.

A shiver slithered down her spine as she fought to steady her trembling hands. The weight of her solitude pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe, as if the very air was conspiring to crush her. Zeni tried to cling to the memories of their previous battles, the times when Chappy had been her stoic guardian, but her thoughts were muddied, slipping through her fingers like fine sand. Desperation clawed at her, leaving her feeling raw and exposed.

And then, from the shadows, it emerged. An abomination the likes of which she'd never seen, its monstrous form an unholy fusion of humanoid and beast. It was tall, towering over Zeni like a twisted statue, its limbs elongated and grotesquely jointed. Its head was that of a jackal, the dark fur slick and matted with an unidentifiable filth. Eyes like bottomless voids stared unblinkingly at her, seeming to pierce through her very soul.

The creature's voice was a gravelly, guttural growl that seemed to reverberate through the air, making Zeni's bones hum in response.

"You," it rasped, its jagged teeth gleaming in the dim light, "you…intrigue me, mortal."

Zeni fought the urge to retch as the sickening scent of decay wafted from the creature, wrapping itself around her like a shroud. She could feel the Ka emanating from the monster, a twisted and malevolent force that clawed at her insides, leaving her feeling sick and weak. It was a horror that lurked in the darkest depths of her nightmares, a terror that she couldn't escape from. Though she found herself feeling more dread than any sense of being frightened.

"I've been watching you, mortal," the creature continued, its voice a chilling caress that made her skin crawl. "You're an oddity, a curiosity. You do not belong here, and yet, you persist."

Zeni swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, her body tensing with the anticipation of violence. She felt like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a predator, but she couldn't afford to show any emotion that might give away her concern. As the creature circled her, its movements unnervingly fluid and predatory, she tried to quell the near-panic that threatened to consume her.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the words coming out as an involuntary squeak.

The creature tilted its head, its empty eyes boring into her as it considered her question. "I want to taste your fear, mortal," it hissed, its breath hot and fetid on her face. "I want to savor the delicious flavor of your despair as you realize that you are utterly alone."

Her heart thundered in her ears as the creature's words tore through her, their truth cutting her deeper.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The creature's lips pulled back into a grotesque grin, the shadows around it seeming to pulse in response. "I have been called forth by my master," it said, its voice a low, sinister purr. "And my master's will is absolute."

Zeni's heart stuttered in her chest, and she couldn't help but feel a flicker of uncertainty.

"Who is your master?" she demanded, her voice wavering slightly.

The creature gestured vaguely with one twisted limb, its malformed fingers splayed in a mocking display of feigned helplessness.

"My master is all around us, mortal. It is the darkness that presses in on you, the silence that gnaws at the edges of your sanity, the terror that lurks in the shadows. My master is everything, and nothing."

It closed the distance between them, moving with an unnerving grace that belied its monstrous form. Zeni's breath caught in her throat as the creature leaned in, its snout mere inches from her face, inhaling deeply as it sought to drink in her fear. But then, its expression shifted, a flicker of confusion crossing its grotesque features.

"You do not fear as you should," it murmured, its voice tinged with frustration. "Your fear is... insufficient. This must be remedied."

Zeni's thoughts swirled chaotically, but as she searched her own feelings, she realized that fear was curiously absent. Sure, this made her nervous—uncomfortable and cautious even. Maybe a little anxious. But not afraid. In her life, fear had never been a dominating presence. She had always been the daredevil, the one who would climb the tallest trees and approach wild animals with reckless abandon. She had faced many bullies and never once backed down—even when she definitely should have—and to her, this seemed exactly like that.

As the creature opened its maw, Zeni looked at it straight in its threatening gaze.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart. But, you've clearly made a mistake."

The creature laughed, a low, menacing sound that reverberated through the air. "And what would that be, mortal?"

"I am not someone you can intimidate," Zeni replied, her voice finally steady and firm.

The creature's laughter intensified, but Zeni did not waver. It eventually stopped, its gaze locked onto hers, and it mused, "No matter. All will learn to fear eventually. That is half the delight, breaking the highly spirited. Those are the most enjoyable to devour. So, it was not a mistake. It was a calculation."

Zeni's eyes narrowed.

"No, that wasn't your mistake,” she said.

“Oh?” wondered the creature. “Then what, pray tell, mortal, was my mistake?”

Zeni felt the energy in her scarab, the Transformation Ankh, its Ka resonating deeply, its reserves begging to be utilized. But beyond that, she felt the shadowy stain in her own spirit, the tiny grain of the dark scroll’s energy still clinging desperately to her Ka like a life preserver. She fixed the creature with a serious, deadly gaze.

“Your mistake was letting me finish my nap."

—

The armored figure, Chappy to some, sat before a tree, attention drawn to a curious glyph etched into its trunk. It pulsed with a rhythmic dance of colors—blue, white, yellow, red—like a secret code begging to be deciphered. As Chappy reached out a massive, armored hand to touch the symbol, the colors shifted, the once vibrant red replaced by a verdant green.

Chappy studied the glyph with the intensity of a scholar poring over an ancient text, but the reverie was suddenly shattered by the unmistakable sound of a scream. Chappy turned, curious but not yet alarmed, and then returned the undivided attention to the glyph, prodding it with a single armored finger.

This glyph was indeed curious. The finger prod shifting the color to purple. Yet, when placing a palm on it once more, it returned to green. Unbeknownst to the big brute, this simple color-puzzle had, in its heyday, pushed many adventurers off the precarious precipice of sanity and driven them mad. Countless had fallen to its deceptive complexity, either with the fractured pieces of their psyche, or simply unable to withstand it and ended themselves there before it. Though, for that being the case, it was suspiciously absent of any dead bodies nearby.

The scream rang out again, this time more urgent and laced with tremendous pain.

Chappy paused once more. This was a recognizable voice. One all too familiar, despite having never heard it at this decibel.

It was the one Chappy had been traveling with.

The girl.

She was fighting, and she was hurt.

The thoughts of the tree abandoned, Chappy, Speechless, Worthless, Muscles, Captain…the large, impressive warrior turned his head toward the sound.

He rose.