The dagger was a brownish yellow with a stringy leather grip. After extracting it from my ribs, I was better able to inspect the runes that covered the blade. Four glyphs were interspersed on the flat of the blade. The dagger's most defining feature, aside from the runes, was a large chip near half an inch deep in the blade's edge.

I scoured the pit for the origin of the weapon. Nothing on the inside of the pit was abnormal. The pile was as vicious as ever, and the hounds dutifully followed their patrols. The centaurs, however, were missing. No arrows, no grunting, and trotting along. Nothing. Not a single guard looked down upon the pit.

I kept searching until one incredibly annoying corpseling bit through my thigh. With a yelp of pain, I steadied the dagger and stabbed it down into the corpselings head. The skull split like water and caved in on itself, revealing a spongy mess of a brain underneath. I had never stabbed anyone before, so I couldn't tell if the dagger was particularly effective or if this was a typical result. That's when I noticed the faintest trickle of warmth entered my arm through the hilt of the dagger. I studied my arm for a while but couldn't find any differences. Nothing seemed to be wrong, but I had never felt anything like that warmth before.

After a bit of contemplation, I stabbed the dagger down into the chest of another corpseling. Again I felt it. The faintest bit of warmth entered into my arm. I still couldn't see any difference in my body or that of the corpseling, except for the gaping chest wound.

What was the dagger doing? It was obviously enchanted with something. This world was still a fantasy world, albeit a shitty one, so this much writing on a weapon could only mean magic.

I continued to stab the bodies around me. The amount of warmth I gained varied from body to body. Some gave me a full trickle; others gave none at all. As I made my way through the pile, I started trying some experiments. First, I tried to focus the warmth to a specific part of my body with minor success. I could feel the energy trying to move where I was directing it, yet the trickle gave out before it could change course. Next, I focused solely on the dagger. I noticed that whenever it was stabbed into a fresh corpseling, the rune closest to the hilt began to light up. The longer the energy flowed through me, the more the rune lit up. After seeing this, I made a mental note to make sure I found a way to fill the rune up to full.

I must have lost track of my position during my tests because I soon found myself on the southern corner of the pit staring face to face with a hellhound. We stared into each other's eyes for what might as well have been hours. Both of us waiting for the other to make the first move. The hound opening and closing its flaming maw with every breath, my hand flexing and relaxing around the dagger.

I don't know who moved first, but I suppose it doesn't matter. Everything happened in an instant. The Hound jumped at my face as I let out a weak swipe with the dagger. A thin line was drawn across the Hound's chest, but it was too shallow to even draw blood. The Hound's fangs sank deep into my neck. The flames of its breath searing whatever flesh was ripped off with its bite.

"Gahh!" I let out a half-gurgle-half scream of pain as my neck was torn. Calling upon what leftover strength I had, I stabbed once more with the dagger. This time the blade caught the Hound right in the side, coming to a halt in between its legs.

The warmth flooded in, and with came a strength I hadn't felt since coming to this godforsaken world. The Hound yelped out in pain and tried to escape.

"Oh no, you don't."

My free arm wrapped around its neck, pulling it closer. The hellhound continued to resist as its flames lessened in intensity. I was greeted with an all too familiar sight as the Hound began to shrivel up and wither. The warmth of the hellhound's vitality cascaded in. I could feel it start to focus around my neck wound. In a matter of moments, the seared and torn flesh was made anew, replaced with smooth pale gray skin. As the Hound's flames began to simmer out, so too did the stream of vitality.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

I looked down once more on the bone dagger. Its bloody edge seemed to smile as it basked in the vitality of its prey. Just like the sword I was impaled on, this dagger could steal the life of others. A feeling I had forgotten entirely began to well up in my chest.

Hope.

I sat there for a while, staring at the runes. Methodically running my fingers over the runes. My mind began to wander. I wondered if the Hound felt the same pain I did when I was drained? The suffering, the hopelessness, and the betrayal as your life leaves you for another. I sat there and pondered for a while, only interrupted by the growling of two other hellhounds.

I can't get distracted. Not yet. For now, I need to keep fighting. Nothing else matters. I put all my strength into my legs and weakly rose up to face the Hounds. For the first time since I was brought to my knees in the cathedral, I stood and charged forward.

I don't know how long it took, A few minutes, a couple hours, maybe even a few days. All I knew was there was no more life to steal in this pit. I had hunted every Hound and every corpseling draining every speck of vitality they could muster. I didn't have much to show for it. Most of the change was small, a little bit more muscle here, a tiny bit of skin there. Most of the vitality went to healing the many wounds I seemed to collect.

The important thing was I could move to a higher degree than before. Although I couldn't raise my arms up above my shoulders, I was finally able to put some decent force behind my swings. I was even able to jump a few inches up without breaking my feet. Overall, I was in much better shape now than when I was first brought to the pit.

Now all that was left was the barred metal door. I'm not gonna lie; I'd been putting this off. The pain of touching that door was still fresh in my mind. Every time I approached the door, memories of my old life resurfaced, and with them came the fear and guilt that had gotten me into this mess. I spent hours walking up to the door, preparing to open it, only to falter and head back to the pile. But now, there was nothing left in the pit. There was nowhere left to run, no more good excuses to avoid it, all that was left was me and the door.

In my moment of weakness, the compulsions came back singing their sirens song.

'Are you really ready to move on?'

'You may be able to change, but who says it will be for the better?'

'Once you go through that gate, you can never return.'

I shook the thoughts from my mind. Now more confident than ever that I needed to cross through the door. I moved forward slowly as if worried the door might jump off its hinges and attack. I stopped just a few feet from the door. Took one last deep breath, calmed my nerves, and grabbed the door. Only this time, there was no pain: no old memories, runes, or ethereal mist. The door just swung open, not even locked. So, I stepped forward.

As I did candles, lit up on the sides of the hall—the red glow illuminating the decrepit redbrick hallway. Everywhere I looked was filled with other metal doors. I slowly made my way through the hallway peering through the other gates that led to other pits. I tried to open the doors, but it was to no avail. Every door was locked. I moved forward until I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

I stood staring at a wall of moving letters. Runes shooting off the wall and taking new shapes, forming letters, and from those letters came words that spoke directly into my mind.

[All who stay here exceed in fear,

Laying down their lives in acceptance of their cowardice,

Like fools, they accept their fate, wallowing in their suffering,

None take the steps of change,

None try to better themselves,

None are worthy of the Path.]

What the hell does that mean? I stared in disbelief, trying to decipher meaning from the gibberish in front of me. I was brought back to reality when I heard a sharp mechanical cry. The platform I stood on began to move—the redbrick hallway disappearing only to be replaced by what could only be described as a prison complex. Cell after teal copper cell full of lightly armored corpselings came to life. All eyes moving onto me.

In the last moment of calm, I let out a deep breath and gripped the dagger so hard I thought my fingers might snap.

Then every cell flew open, and the hunt began anew.