Kael’s hollow eyes swept across the narrow corridor ahead, the dim light casting eerie shadows on the crumbling stone walls. The passage gradually widened as he ventured deeper, revealing a vast hallway supported by colossal stone pillars etched with intricate carvings. These ancient engravings seemed to tell forgotten stories, their details half-erased by time and the relentless grip of decay. A faint draft whistled through the space, carrying a bone-chilling sense of foreboding. The air was heavy, as though the very atmosphere itself conspired to keep intruders at bay.
His skeletal frame moved with caution, his bones creaking faintly with every step. Beneath his bony feet, faint grooves interrupted the dusty floor, their subtle patterns catching his attention. Kael came to an abrupt stop, crouching down slowly. The dim glow of the corridor illuminated his skeletal fingers as they traced one of the grooves. The rough texture of the stone met his touch, sending a faint chill through his hand. His hollow gaze narrowed as fragments of memory from his gaming days surfaced.
"A trap," he murmured in a raspy voice, the sound echoing softly along the empty expanse. His words hung in the air, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the hallway.
Rising with a deliberate slowness, Kael’s grip tightened around his scythe. The weapon gleamed faintly under the dim light, the crimson hue of its blade pulsating ominously, casting brief flickers of red across the walls. He tilted his head, as if listening to the silence itself, and then, with calculated precision, tossed the weapon forward.
The corridor came alive with a sudden, violent energy. Metallic whirs pierced the air as spinning blades erupted from the walls, their deadly arcs cutting through the gloom with terrifying speed. The sharp, rhythmic sound of the blades echoed endlessly, bouncing off the high walls and pillars. Kael stood motionless, his eye sockets reflecting the glint of the spinning death before him.
He observed the pattern, the blades retracting for a fleeting pause before resuming their deadly dance. His mind raced as he recalled the mechanics of the game. 'Five seconds... just five seconds between each cycle,' he calculated.
"Damn, I am so amazing!" he said, his rare cheer almost startling in the oppressive surroundings. The cheering quickly faded as he muttered under his breath, "Says someone who’s died over 700 times in this game."
He exhaled a soundless release of tension as his form stilled. Then, in a flash, he launched forward. His bones seemed to move with unnatural grace, each step precise and deliberate. The first blade screeched past his skull, the sharp wind of its passage grazing his left eye socket. Without hesitating, Kael twisted his body sharply, narrowly dodging another blade that sliced low toward his legs. The motion sent a cloud of dust spiraling around him, the faint scent of ancient stone and rust filling his senses.
His scythe whirled in his hands as he used it to parry smaller traps, the clanging sound echoing like a battle cry in the narrow space. Halfway through the gauntlet, a blade grazed his ribcage. The moment was so close it pulled a gasp from him a sound more out of reflex than fear. He froze momentarily, his skeletal form stiffening, before realizing the blade had merely passed harmlessly through the gap between his ribs.
"Sometimes, being all bones isn’t so bad," he said, Yet, the close call served as a grim reminder of the stakes. One wrong move, and he’d be reduced to a heap of lifeless remains.
The corridor grew narrower as he advanced, the traps growing more erratic. Blades of varying sizes and speeds emerged in chaotic intervals, the deadly precision of their movements demanding absolute focus. Kael adjusted his rhythm, his skeletal frame twisting and contorting as needed. He leaped high to avoid one blade and dropped low to duck under another, his movements blurring into a dance of survival. The faint crimson glow of his scythe left arcs of light in the air as he spun it in fluid motions, deflecting smaller traps with sharp, ringing clangs.
Sweatless but metaphorically breathless, Kael finally reached the end of the gauntlet. The whir of spinning blades behind him faded into silence, the oppressive tension lifting slightly. He stood upright, his skeletal chest rising and falling in a mimicry of relief. The stillness of the new hallway stretched before him.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Kael's fingers brushed over the crimson blade of his scythe, his grip tightening. "Well," he muttered to himself, his hollow voice echoing once more, "let’s see what’s next."
With that, he stepped forward, his skeletal frame casting a long shadow against the dimly lit stone walls.
Beyond the traps, the narrow hallway stretched into a massive, circular chamber. The faint light from the corridor barely reached the edges of the room, swallowed by an overwhelming darkness that seemed alive. Kael stepped cautiously into the space, his bony fingers tightening around the shaft of his scythe. His hollow sockets scanned the chamber as the atmosphere shifted abruptly.
The air here was dense, pressing against his skeletal form like a physical weight. A low hum filled the room, deep and resonant, growing louder with every measured step he took. Kael paused, cocking his head to pinpoint the source of the sound. Glyphs etched into the stone walls flickered faintly, their pale light pulsating in rhythm with the vibrating hum, casting eerie shadows across the room.
“What is this place?” Kael muttered under his breath, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He ran his bony fingers lightly along the shaft of his scythe, the metal cold beneath his touch. His steps echoed faintly, but the sound quickly dissolved into the all-encompassing hum, as if the chamber itself absorbed his presence.
The walls seemed to ripple like disturbed water, distorting the edges of his vision. As Kael ventured deeper, the environment betrayed him. The ground underfoot vanished suddenly, replaced by what seemed to be a reflection of the ceiling. He faltered, his skeletal frame shifting slightly as he fought for balance. His scythe tapped lightly against the illusionary surface, the sound somehow muted.
"An illusion," Kael hissed, the realization sharpening his focus. He straightened, his fingers gripping the weapon. The chamber's twisting dimensions played tricks on him one moment, it stretched infinitely, with pathways snaking outward in every direction; the next, it contracted claustrophobically, leaving him seemingly trapped within walls that loomed closer.
His sockets narrowed as the glyphs grew brighter, their flickering light mocking him with their deceptive beauty. He turned sharply, "If it’s really an illusion," he murmured, his tone calm but steely, "then it must be tied to the glyphs."
Kael raised his scythe, the weapon glinting ominously in the flickering light. He swung it with calculated precision at the nearest glyph. The blade struck true, the impact releasing a high-pitched sound akin to shattering glass. The illusion flickered violently, part of the endless pathways dissolving to reveal glimpses of the true chamber.
A grim grin stretched across Kael’s jawline, his skeletal features stark in the pale glow. He moved quickly, his frame darting with eerie grace. Each step sent faint vibrations through the unstable ground as he targeted the glowing symbols. His strikes were swift and deliberate, the scythe slicing through the air with a sharp whistle before colliding with the glyphs. The room retaliated, its illusions intensifying as the glyphs shattered one by one. The walls rippled furiously, and the hum grew into a deafening roar that seemed to claw at his very being.
Kael gritted his teeth, as the chamber bucked violently. His cloak whipped around him in the unnatural wind conjured by the room’s resistance. Only one glyph remained, high above him on the chamber’s true ceiling. Kael stopped, planting his scythe against the ground as he calculated the distance. The hum rattled through his hollow form, threatening to disrupt his focus, but he remained steadfast.
Reaching his full height, Kael extended the scythe, its blade crackling with dark energy. He shifted his stance, his skeletal fingers adjusting their grip with meticulous care. With a sharp intake of breath, he hurled the weapon upward. The scythe spun through the air, the dark energy trailing like tendrils of smoke as it struck the final glyph with explosive force.
The chamber trembled violently, its illusions shattering like a fragile pane of glass. The walls solidified, their rippling movements ceasing as the endless maze collapsed into a singular, straightforward pathway. The oppressive hum died away, replaced by a heavy, almost sacred silence. At the far end of the chamber, an ornate exit appeared, its frame glowing faintly with an inviting light.
Kael approached cautiously, retrieving his scythe with a swift, practiced motion. The weapon hummed faintly in his grasp, as if reacting to the lingering energy in the room. His bony frame cast a long, jagged shadow that stretched across the now-stable floor. The glyphs were gone, but their faint impressions lingered in the air, a reminder of the chamber’s malevolence.
Without hesitation, Kael stepped toward the exit, his sockets fixed on the faint glow ahead. The chamber seemed to watch him, its dark corners holding secrets that he dared not investigate further. The scythe rested firmly in his grasp, its weight both a comfort and a warning as he disappeared through the ornate doorway, leaving the ominous chamber behind.