Vince swung the door open and took a hesitant step backward, only to relax and stroll into the new room. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but another floor of offices wasn’t it.

There were just cubicles…a lot of cubicles. Vince strained his eyes and tried to see the end of the room, but he couldn’t. And there weren’t any walls, at least any that he could see. There were some pillars, but other than that, it was just an endless dark expanse of cubicles, lit by dimmed office lights.

Vince looked up to the ceiling and noted that instead of the vinyl drop ceiling of the Dellway-McCoy office there was a rolling darkness that churned and stirred. Dim light emanated from pinpoints in the darkness, flickering and weak.

Vince turned around and found the door he’d come through was gone.

“Fuck.”

Any door can be a door to the Labyrinth, but getting out is a bit harder.

“I remember, I remember,” he said, waving the message away.

Vince took a hesitant step forward, toward one of the cubicles.

A Cubicle:

Many office workers, yourself included, have wasted their precious days away in structures like this. You lived in a cubicle, are you prepared to die there?

“Die? Why would—”

The hairs on the back of Vince’s neck stood on end and he wheeled around just in time to see the blade coming towards him. He tried to twist his body out of the way, but the blade caught him in the shoulder and tore a large gash out of him.

Vince fell backward onto his ass and began to back up from his assailant. In the dim light, Vince could make out a mostly humanoid form holding a blade that seemed to be fashioned out of a chair leg.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light and adrenaline coursed through his system, Vince got a better look at his attacker. It was wearing a suit and tie, the dress code for many office workers, but it's emaciated form was clear through the way the clothes hung on its frame and through the many rips and holes in the cloth. The clothes were also stained and dirtied, mostly with a brownish crimson…that couldn’t be blood, could it?

Its arms and legs were too long, having burst out of the confines of its clothes just past the joints, and its torso was unnaturally small, at least compared to the rest of its body.

A glint of light reflected off of its teeth. Jesus Christ, the teeth. There were so many of them. So sharp, so dirty, so thin, it was like a mouth of heroin needles. Could a mouth stretch like that? To fit all of that? Vince wasn’t sure.

Red-Collar:

An office worker just like you who got lost in the Labyrinth and succumbed to corrupt energies, which twisted them into this profane form that you see. Named as such for the blood that stains their business-appropriate clothes.

Vince’s back hit the wall of a cubicle. The Red-Collar crouched down and let out a guttural growl before slowly advancing.

Oh, by the way, they eat people.

The Red-Collar lunged and Vince just managed to dodge out of the way. The monster went straight through the wood laminate wall of the cubicle with an echoing crash. Vince scrambled to his feet and dashed behind another cubicle.

He heard the Red-Collar slowly get to its feet and he tried to steady his breathing, to little avail.

They’re also faster than you and have great senses of smell, so you probably won’t be able to outrun it.

Stolen novel; please report.

Vince gritted his teeth and stood tall, clearing the top of the cubicle. The Red-Collar straightened up, ridges appearing in its skin where bones had grown to freakish proportions. It roared.

Vince stepped into the walkway and shook out his fists. Raising them into a sloppy guard, a smile began to spread across Vince’s face. Memories of his youth flitted in the back of his brain. Memories of fights in dark alleys, under the judgmental eye of the moon, and over the stupidest shit possible. Memories of bloody knuckles, black eyes, and broken bones. Memories of a wayward youth, of juvenile delinquency.

Skill Unlocked:

Bare-Knuckle Brawling (1):

A favorite of thugs everywhere, some might mistakenly call Bare-Knuckle Brawling a form of pugilism, boxing, or even a martial art. But this isn’t anything that…fancy. This style is a chaotic mix of whatever comes to mind, whatever is available, and whatever is possible. Nothing more, nothing less.

When your back is against the wall, when all the dice have been cast, and when the shit has hit the fan, and when you just don’t care about living, only hurting the motherfucker that kills you, you turn to Bare-Knuckle Brawling.

Skill Increase: Bare-Knuckle Brawling. 1 > 2.

Skill Increase: Bare-Knuckle Brawling. 2 > 3.

The Red-Collar screeched a war cry and charged, running hand over foot with an unbalanced, looping gait.

Vince inhaled sharply, pulled his arm back, and swung, ducking down as he did. His fist connected on the exhale, colliding with the Red-Collar’s brittle ribcage, which gave a dry crack as some of it fractured.

The Red-Collar went tumbling over Vince, who turned on his heel just in time for the Red-Collar to take a clumsy swing at him. Vince blocked with his arm and ignored the pain as the monster’s claws took a chunk of skin out of him. He stepped in closer and slammed his fist into the Red-Collar’s chin.

The Red-Collar stumbled backwards and Vince caught it with a right hook to the neck, followed by a jab to the ribs. It clawed at Vince, slicing into his side, but he continued his assault. He kicked it into a cubicle wall, sending it crashing through.

As the Red-Collar began to struggle to its feet, Vince grabbed one of the sharper pieces of the shattered cubicle and stabbed it into the monster’s back. It slid through with little resistance, skewering the Red-Collar, who twitched, gave out a rattling gasp, and died.

Enemy Killed. +3 Experience.

Achievement Unlocked: White-Collar Red-Collar Killer.

You’ve killed your first monster, and a former human at that. This is a pretty big departure from your days sitting at a computer, working a 9 to 5, huh? Or maybe it isn’t…

Do you feel any guilt about that?

Reward: +2 Experience.

Vince exhaled hard and flopped onto the ground, his heart pounding and his lungs burning. He coughed, hard, and sat up.

“In a video game, you loot the body. How do I do that?” he asked.

No one answered.

Vince sighed and staggered to his feet, coughing slightly. He limped over the Red-Collar’s corpse and said, “Loot.”

Nothing happened.

Vince spat out some bloody phlegm and began rooting around the Red-Collar’s pockets. He found an old iPhone, its screen cracked and dirty, a wallet, and a key ring with two keys. One, rusted beyond use and a bit fractured, looked like the keys for a car, but the other was a strangely pristine key that was also strangely key-like. It was like if you took the platonic ideal of a key and brought it into the real world, that was how…key-y it was.

Achievement Unlocked: No Scruples.

You know you just had to think ‘Loot,’ not say it out loud, right? You didn’t have to go through his pockets? Do you do this often?

Reward: The phone doesn’t work, just so you know.

“Yeah, I figured,” Vince said, tossing the phone over the wall of a cubicle. He flipped open the wallet and dug through it. He pulled out a faded driver’s license.

“David McMahon,” Vince read. The man on the license looked, well, normal. He hadn’t quite lost the boyhood fat in his face and his hair was neatly combed, if a bit unwieldy. According to the license, he would’ve been forty-two. Vince wondered how long he’d been missing. The man in the picture looked nothing like the horror that Vince had just killed.

Vince slipped the license into his back pocket and dug through the wallet. There were some credit cards, all expired, and twenty-three dollars in cash, which he put in his own wallet. There was also a picture of a little girl sitting on a swing and smiling. Vince slipped that into his back pocket too.

Vince returned his attention to the strangely perfect key.

Personal Key:

Wow, what a find! These are pretty rare, but good on you for finding one. A Personal Key allows access to one’s own pocket dimension. Just like the Labyrinth, it can be accessed at will from most any door, you don’t even need to put the key inside.

Vince looked around, but there weren’t any doors in sight.

“How do I get out of here?” he asked.

Of course, there was no answer.