I woke up in a panic. Feeling around for the hole in my head. My fingers fell into my skull as I found the bullet hole. Normally when you kill yourself you expect to remain dead, so then why am I alive? It’s not just my hair that is missing. It’s my skin and muscle too. Am I a skeleton? I push open the lid to my coffin. I’m in a mausoleum. My family must have splurged on my dead ass. I would whistle at the extravagance if I still had lips.

Other corpses shamble across the graveyard. I follow them, my bones move surprisingly silently. Well, I was surprised until I looked closer at my joints. They aren’t making contact. They are being held a hair length apart by black ethereal dust.

“Magic!” I try to speak out, but my lack of a tongue, lungs, lips, and other instruments used for speech become apparent as the only thing my attempt at speech does is move my jaw.

The other skeletons line up in front of a person with a plush skull on their hat. With the black hair, black nails, skull hat, and skull decalled robe I can safely assume that she is a necromancer. I don’t know which I was more surprised by. The fact that I was raised from the dead by magic or that the necromancer was a very smol girl. Standing at only the height of an average eleven-year-old. I try to get her attention. Running a finger across my neck then pointing at her, flapping my arms, waving, all the normal “Hey you just raised me from the dead and I’m not happy about it gestures.” I ended on the ‘Up-Your’s’ gesture before a magic circle appeared underneath us. In a flash, I was transported to a cave mouth. The necromancer loli led us through her shitty dungeon. The first room was a room with a large pit of spikes in the middle. She stationed two skeletons in it. The next was a room with a long table and chairs. She stationed three skeletons in it. The final room was a small room with a crystal ball in the middle. She stationed me and the last guy to guard it. Then she touched the crystal and was sucked inside. I mimic her, but when I touch the crystal ball nothing happens.

A group of people opened the door to the room I was in. They look like adventurers from an isekai manga. Not a main character party, more like the side characters led by a grumpy old dwarf. Finally, something to break the boredom. I wave in greeting and the one in front returns my greeting with an axe into my skull.

Guess he’s anti-social.

My comrade fares not much better. They take out clay cards and touch them to the crystal ball. The cards glow.

“Another dungeon complete!”

“Too bad it was such a weak dungeon.”

“We’re just buffing our numbers, weak dungeons are good.”

They make like a merry band as they walk away.

My skull quickly heals and I regain control of my body. My necromancer pops out of the crystal orb. She has a small knitted skull in her hands. She places it atop the crystal ball like a hat. I grab her arm. “You’ve been knitting while we’ve been getting our heads smashed in? What kind of fucking necromancer are you?” Is what I want to say, but instead she just stares at me with eyes wide. Her soft face betrays her fear. “Let go, Mr. Skeletal. I’ll make you one too!” I let her hand go. What a fucking child. Who puts a child in charge of a dungeon? I’ll show her real tower defense!

I have blocked off the third room with stones and dirt. Unless you check the wall then it appears not to house a door. The first room is a wash. Who would fall into an uncovered spike trap? My only change was adding a large stone block to it, placed right by the door. In the second room, I have placed six skeletons in. Each of them buried under a fine layer of dirt. Getting them to obey me was easy. I just slap them into position. As for myself. I am hiding in the wall of the first room. Only my skull sticks out from the wall. I look like a macabre decoration, but it allows me to see when adventurers enter.

“Are you sure about this?”

“The last crew said that it was only a few skeletons. I’m sure you can handle it.”

An older man with a short nose scribbles on a piece of paper as he takes the lead. Behind him is a young blonde man with a large buster sword. Is he compensating for something? I want to say, but even I'm not desperate enough to make that joke.

“No monsters in the first room. Peculiar.” He opens the door and peaks his nose in. “None in the second.”

I watch as he continues to scribble down the layout of the dungeon. The boy enters behind him and I shake myself loose from the wall. Slamming the door behind them and moving the stone block in front of it. They slam into the door trying to get out. Soon the force of two people at the door becomes one as the sound of a sword on bone is heard. I should have drilled a peephole. I can only listen to their screams of frustration. It’s not as fun as being able to see them. Six skeletons should be enough to overwhelm one fighter, but I can hear the young man holding his own. If he kills all six skeletons then the really evil part of this trap kicks in.

Skeletons get back up very quickly. You can smash our skulls and it regenerates in under five minutes.

It’s an endless cycle of skeletons, and with one door hidden and the other blocked the humans will be ground down into mincemeat eventually. Only a cruel person would think of it, and I am a cruel person.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

After an hour I step into the room. It’s a bloodbath. The skeletons have no weapons. The warrior suffered a death by a thousand slashes and bites. The cartographer did not put up as much of a fight. His only weapon being his pen he was ill-equipped for the skeleton horde.

“Good job guys.” Is what I want to say, but I still cannot talk. Instead, I divide up the loot. I have gotten the bodies away from their weapons and armor when they begin to fall through the floor. “I wasn’t done with that!” I want to shout at the dungeon. Instead, I divide two daggers, one set of armor, and a buster sword amongst six skeletons. It’s actually really easy to divide an uneven amount of loot between large groups.

I get the steel plate armor and the dagger. The rest can have the unwieldy sword and the extra dagger. Easy.

The necromancer teleports back into the dungeon. She carries knitted hats that she places on the skeletons randomly. She even goes as far as to put knob warmers on the doorknobs. I’m starting to think that she actually is a little girl. She then guides the skeletons out of the second room and back to their original positions. Hey lady. I put them that way for a reason. The challenge rating of this dungeon needs to be higher or we are going to keep being killed infinitely. I was going to put them back into position when I had a thought.

This isn’t my dungeon. I have no obligation that it doesn’t get taken over. The only inconvenience for me is that I’ll get another hole in my head. Which now that I’m a regenerating skeleton isn’t that big of a deal. As long as the necromancer doesn’t die I will stay alive. That’s what I assume anyway. I have no experience with magic, being from Earth, and all. I set up in the second room. Using my dagger to carve wood sculptures to pass the time. It’s the only thing that I could think of doing. These tables and chairs don’t have a use anyway so why not recreate an amiibo from them.

I was on my seventh, and best attempt at carving a Kirby statue when a group of adventurers bursts into the room. This group gives off protagonisty vibes. One hot dude being followed by a rainbow of different girls. I wave at them as they kill the two skeletons stationed in the room then go back to whittling. They approach me with caution. “Marry, inspect him.”

“I see it. He has the Freewill skill.”

“How vile of a necromancer to bind a living soul to a corpse.” I look up. They are talking about me. “Oh great God please give this poor unholy abomination the gift to voice its tired mind.”

“What did you just call me?” Is what I say. I quickly realized that I have finally been able to speak.

“Yo wait a second.” I look around the room. “You can hear me right?”

They all nod. “Thanks a lot, Miss priestess. Here.” I knock on the wall behind me. It begins to fade in a cascade of sparkles. It’s a hidden treasure room. I take the treasure chest out and drop it in front of the group. “Treasure, that’s what y’all adventurers come to the dungeon for, right?”

“Actually, we are here to destroy the core.”

“The core?”

“The core is the link between the dungeon and the dungeon master. It’s the heart of both.”

“You’re going to kill the necromancer?” If she dies what happens to me? I’m held together by her power.

“Yes.”

“But that will kill me.”

“May you finally rest in peace.”

“Cmon guys, you don’t have to do it. This dungeon is harmless.”

“Two people have died to it.”

“I mean, the necromancer is only a little girl. She knits doorknob cozies. Just have people not come to it for a while. I’ll make the place nonlethal.”

I’m pleading with them to keep my unlive. I don’t even know why I am so intent on staying alive. I wasted my first life. Maybe I want to live my second to the fullest. I am desperately trying to get them to go away.

“Fine.”

“You’ll leave?”

“We will leave, but more adventurers will come.”

I was incredibly angry that my life was placed in the incompetent hands of that little girl necromancer. I march to the core and take it off its pedestal. Instantly the necromancer teleports me to the control room of the dungeon.

“My Skeleton. Is this about the hat?” She has a half knitted skull hat in her hands.

“No! It’s about life and death! People are coming for the core! If it breaks you die, if you die, I die.”

She seems taken aback by my ability to speak. “Mr. Skeleton-

“Anon, my name is Anon.”

“Ophelia.”

“Care if I call you Lilia?” It’s shorter and her little girl looks don’t warrant a macabre name like Ophelia. She blushes and nods. "Skipping honorifics already?" I roll my non existent eyes. The conversation lulls before she picks it back up again.

“Do you have your memories?”

“As far as I can recall.”

“Something must have gone wrong with the summoning. I’ve only been practicing it for twenty years. I’m sorry about that mister.”

She looks like a thirteen-year-old, how could she have been practicing necromancy for twenty years? Is this that shitty body of a little girl but mentally she’s of age trope that weebs use to justify blatant pedophilia? It doesn’t matter right now.

“Listen. Adventurers are going to come and try to kill you and destroy the core. You are not a good dungeon master, transfer ownership to me.” I tighten my grip on the core.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yep!”

“That was easy.”

“I hereby relinquish ownership of Skeleton Cave to Anon the Skeleton.”

A screen pops into my view. “Congratulations on becoming the dungeon owner of Skeleton Cave.” What a shit name.

DP stands for double penetration, but it can also stand for Dungeon Points. They are earned in two major ways.

1. Have intruders in the dungeon.

2. Have a corpse be absorbed by the dungeon

The points are then spent on the same dungeon shop. It’s like Walmart, in the fancy fantasy world sense. The UI is slick, white, and blue, when you press a button it makes a clicking noise. UI stands for User Interface, like in a game, but it can also stand for Urinary Infection in another context. The shop has ten large categories of items then divided into smaller categories then divided into lists ranked from lowest to highest cost.

Example: Weapons > Magic > Then a list of weapons that can be used as a magical conduit.