A tentacle wrapped around his ankle, gripping tight and yanking him down into the water. He kicked and struggled, trying to peer through the black liquid to see what had grabbed him, but unable to see anything other than dark water and his own leg.
He was being pulled down, fast, dragged through the water at pace while he tried desperately to grab hold of the tentacle wrapped around his ankle. His fingers fumbled with the slippery cord that held his leg, trying in vain to pull it free while his lungs began to burn, and desperation set in.
The unnamed had never drowned in the Rat Run before and he wasn’t looking forward to the prospect this time. If he only had a knife or even one of those darts. Something to cut the tentacle holding his ankle in its impossibly tight grip.
The darkness below coalesced into solid substance, as the floor of the water chamber came into view. It was covered in large clam-like object that each had strange plants sitting inside them. The plants boasted vine-like tentacles that extended up into the water, their outer edge shimmering with faint green light.
The unnamed’s trajectory halted and he was finally unable to grip the vine that held his leg. He was sitting on top of one of the clams as the plant nestled within the strange object began to open a maw-like aperture as though preparing to eat him.
Lungs burning, mind screaming with panic, he tried to slip his foot out of the boot, reasoning that it might be easier than trying to dislodge the vine which seemed to be gripping even tighter now. The unnamed heard something from above, a dull sound that might have been something heavy falling into the water.
He was desperate to breathe, desperate to open his mouth and suck in life-giving air. Once again, he reflected on the absurdity of Havenspire and the fact that he needed to breathe at all in an afterlife simulator. What kind of monster would design an afterlife world where you could still drown, get shot, stabbed, eaten, and die in any number of ways?
His vision blurred as bubbles slipped from his mouth. His foot was still stuck fast, unable to pull free while he struggled with the last of his strength. The bulbous mass of greenery below shifted to reveal a large open mouth, rows of long green teeth bristling as it slowly moved toward him. It looked like the underwater kelp version of a jack o lantern, leering at the unnamed in eyeless hunger.
He screamed on instinct, the last of his precious breath bursting from his mouth and trailing upwards as his strength finally gave out. He let his body go slack, reasoning that at least Vella and Tusk were still alive. At least they were only at the start of the Rat Run, so dying now wouldn’t be the end of the world.
That thought was interrupted as a large, dark figure moved down in front of him, a long shape which looked suspiciously like a wooden sword held in one hand. Tusk stabbed down at the plant creature, driving the sword in through its mouth and prompting a squirt of green blood to pour from the wound like ink.
The creature backed away, a disturbing shrieking sound cutting through the water as the pressure on the unnamed’s legs suddenly eased and he felt himself begin to rise. Fighting to hold his breath, the unnamed was shot forward as Tusk grabbed him by the arm and kicked up off the floor of the chamber, driving them both toward the surface.
The unnamed burst through the water, coughing and wheezing, his body held above the water by Tusk as the hulking half-orc surfaced. Vella was swimming nearby, one of the venomous darts in her left hand.
“Are you okay?” she shouted as the waters around them began to bubble and froth with activity.
The unnamed couldn’t speak. His lungs and throat were on fire, but he managed to raise a hand and give the thumbs up gesture. Vella nodded.
“You stay here,” she said. “We’ll take care of this.”
She took a deep breath and dived beneath the surface of the water, followed a moment later by Tusk who was grinning as he dove into the darkness. The unnamed floated alone in the chamber, treading water while the bubbling, tumultuous liquid continued its strange frenzy. Here and there the unnamed could see tentacles, green vines like the one that had dragged him down into the water, thrashing up out of the inky liquid.
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While he was struggling to keep his head above water a notification appeared in his HUD, opening up to fill his vision momentarily as the AI delivered its message.
** CONGRATULATIONS! **
You’ve just been awarded the Iron Lung boon for successfully holding your breath for far too long and almost drowning! One second more and you’d be getting the tombstone award.
The Iron Lung perk gives you +1 to your breath holding ability. If you’re at the point of needing to use this perk, odds are you’re dead anyway, but it’s nice to know that those burning lungs you just experienced weren’t in vain.
“Plus one?” the unnamed wheezed. “So, what does that equate to in time?”
Plus one equates to roughly five seconds. It might be the difference between life and death. If you’re within five seconds of dying I doubt this will help in any meaningful way, but still, it’s better than a kick in the side of the head from an angry mule!
The message vanished from the unnamed’s HUD. He tried to steady his breathing, dreading the possibility that one of those vines might grab him and drag him down again. That fear was allayed a little as muffled screams rose from the waters below, similar to the screech the plant beast had made when Tusk had skewered it with his sword. More and more of the sounds came from below and the unnamed saw green liquid like ink or blood begin to rise to the surface.
Tusk and Vella emerged a moment later, drawing in breath before diving once again. The unnamed waited, his breathing returning to normal as more of the screams rose from the floor of the chamber. Those cries were joined by another sound, the sound of rushing water. It was still very dark in the chamber, but the unnamed could just make out the walls and it seemed as though the water level was starting to drop.
As Vella and Tusk emerged a second time, the water continued to drop. Tusk’s sword was dripping with green ichor, as was the dart Vella held in one hand. The half-orc swam over to where his shield was floating in the water and scooped it up.
The unnamed realized that he was still wearing the backpack with their supplies, the food and healing potion. He wondered how the rations would be affected by a sudden dip in water and concluded that, from this point on, it would probably be wise to get one of the others to carry their supplies. Given that he was going to be the one throwing himself into danger first, it made sense to keep the food and healing potion with Vella or Tusk.
The water continued to fall until they were all standing on the floor of the chamber, its surface covered in slimy rock and the dying remnants of the plant creatures that had almost drowned the unnamed. He looked over to the far wall and saw a door open up revealing the exit corridor.
“There’s our way out,” he offered, throat still burning. “Let’s check if there’s anything here we can use and then keep moving.”
“I got it!” Tusk said, walking over to one of the dead plant things and leaning over it, as though frozen in time, extending one hand toward the dead creature.
The unnamed and Vella watched as the half-orc stood bent over, hands outstretched.
“Ah, you okay dude?” the unnamed asked. “You look like you’re constipated.”
Tusk stood upright. “Spicy poblano omelets!” he hissed. “Stupid looting system must be broke.”
Vella laughed. “There is no looting system in the Rat Run. Leo told us that, remember. You can loot whatever you find, but you have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Vella bent down and picked up one of the dead vines. She pulled it experimentally and then tossed it over to the half-orc.
“Try and pull that apart.”
He frowned, catching the vine in one hand and then trying to do as she suggested. Green muscles bulge as he put all of his strength into the task, wrapping the vine around both hands and straining with all his might.
“Flapjack!” he blurted. “This is some strong stuff.”
“Maybe good for climbing,” Vella reasoned, “if we get enough of it.”
The half-orc nodded. “And if we can cut it.”
The wooden practice sword proved ineffective, and it took a little work to find a sharp enough stone to do the cutting, but they found that, by using the darts to make several punctures and then using a sharpened piece of stone, it was possible to sever the vines from their host. Each of them was around twenty feet in length, so they gathered three of them in total, bundled the vines together, and slipped them into the back pack along with the other supplies.
A quick check of their collar displays confirmed that more points had been distributed and they walked into the adjoining corridor in good spirits.
“We are crushing it,” Tusk said. “We’ve already cleared three rooms and we’ve only been in here for half an hour.”
The unnamed checked his HUD to confirm what the half-orc was saying.
“An hour actually. I guess time flies when you’re having fun.”
Tusk shrugged. “Still, if we keep going at this rate, we should clear this thing in a couple of days.”
The unnamed wasn’t nearly so optimistic. He’d come very close to drowning and the water chamber was an entirely new room that he hadn’t encountered before. There was no telling how many rooms there were like that up ahead and he had a sneaking suspicion that the maze would get harder as they went on, not easier.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s see if we can clear another two rooms and then take a break.”
“Lunch!” Tusk agreed. “Two rooms and then lunch.”