“Here we are again.” Peter muttered. “Guess this is where I wait to respawn. Interesting choice.” He said looking around. He was back in the forest. Though this time he was already at the clearing where he’d built his home.

Seeing the strange reflection of muted colors all around him, he looked up at the source and his eyes widened in shock. A long, wide rift ran across the sky and, through it, some kind of gas entered and permeated the atmosphere, lighting up the night sky in tones of red, blue and purple. It reminded Peter of the many aurora borealis he’d seen dancing in the Alaskan sky back home.

On the other side of the rift, hanging in the void, was a strange looking planet. It didn’t have any continents that Peter could see. Just two solid-looking seas fighting for supremacy, the casualties of their lethargic war floating away in stagnant pools of purple.

A myriad of cracks crisscrossed the embattled globe, and from those cracks escaped the beautiful gas-like substance invading his dream world.

The image painted across the night sky almost looked like an eye. Peter was mesmerized.

As he stood there, staring, he felt a light pressure build up in the air around him. It was comforting, and soon he felt himself energized.

Peter had long lost track of time, when he felt it. His whole body shivered and all his hair stood on end as he jerked his head toward the southward path. That thing was coming for him.

Peter spun on his heels and shot toward his house. He took barely a second to reach his door only to feel like he’d just run into a concrete wall. The door refused to budge no matter how much he banged and kicked at it. He kept looking back over his shoulder and soon he saw it.

The monstrous creature ran into the clearing on all fours and stopped. The edges of its shadowy figure wavered, as if being dragged by the creature’s movements. It stood up on its hind legs and started walking toward a frozen Peter, who could somehow see its pitch black eyes lock onto his.

“Open up, open up, open up.” Turning back around, Peter banged and kicked at the door with renewed vigor. The thought of running crossed his mind, but he dismissed it immediately. He could feel his only hope was getting through this door. He sensed the creature was about to reach him and his desperation rose.

He took two steps back before throwing himself at the door. “OPEN THE FUCK UP!” He shouted. A whimper reached his ears as the door gave in and he fell through. He looked back just in time to see the creature look away as the door closed on its own.

***************

Peter opened his eyes and took comfort in the shivering cold and jagged edges of the broken platform burrowing into his back. Just before…

Retch! “Oh God. How…?”

His stomach was sore by the time he managed to stop retching. There was nothing to puke, anyway.

Peter sat there holding his head and rubbing his eyes and temples as he wallowed in his misery. A stabbing hunger migraine had set in to match the pain in his stomach. His mouth was dry, his lips cracked and his throat raw. It was all he could do to not dry swallow to prevent some agony. At least his brain had started muting the horrid stench.

Peter sighed, pulling himself out of his gloom and getting to work on scrapping the gunk off his naked body. All his gear was gone.

“It’s fun to know I’ll lose everything every time I die. I needed more of fucking challenge,” the surly soldier griped.

Peter struggled to maintain his grip on the stone shard as he worked to remove the slime his body had expelled. His hands were too numb to control properly, yet not numb enough to dull the sensation of icy blades slicing at his fingertips. The non-stop shaking didn’t help, but the cold wasn’t solely to blame, this time. He felt weak and could see he was getting emaciated as he scraped the foul residue; he was much thinner and the contours of his bones stood out more prominently through his loose skin. Even the metal impact on his left arm was starting to bulge out.

Having cleaned himself as best he could, Peter wobbled back onto his feet and stretched, before trudging back to the library with his hands under his armpits. Wincing each time the pangs of hunger vied for attention against his other concerns.

“Surely ancient leather doesn’t taste too bad. And there’s plenty of wood to go around; some parchment for crackers. There’s a balanced meal right there!”

Peter’s thoughts quickly sobered up. His mind once again running through past events. He started feeling like he was in some kind of ‘Souls’ game. All about skill and a steep learning curve.

The skeletons were pretty easy to kill if he hit them in the right place. But if he gave them the chance to fight back… The fact that they were just bones and armor clearly did not take away from their skill in battle. The damn thing nearly killed him.

Then there were the apparitions. How was he supposed to deal with them? All he could do was evade and run.

And who the fuck decided to make that bloodsucker a first level boss?

Peter felt like he was failing his way through whatever the hell this was. [Dungeon? I suppose that’s what this is.]

Peter was soon back in the library. Eyes closed and ears cocked, he resisted the urge to run to where he last died to pick his gear back up, as he stood there shivering.

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All was quiet and death was still. Yet, he wasn’t gonna risk any more surprises.

“YO!” Peter screamed at the top of his lungs and got ready for a hasty retreat.

Nothing.

“FRESH MEAT RIGHT HERE! COME AND GET IT.”

Nothing.

He still waited a while longer just listening and breathing in the scents in the air around him. In the end, the peace of the library was finally restored.

“You’ve earned the Title, ‘The Librarian’.” Peter chuckled despite the torment he was being put through as he started making his way back to the study area, “It is your sworn duty to uphold the sanctity of every library in the world. For this purpose, you gain a sixth sense for paleontology sections, the uncanny ability to cockblock love birds turned humping rabbits and a +10 bonus to shushing loud neighbors.”

Relief and excitement grew in his chest as a body and a bunch of bundled up cloth came into view. But disappointment and confusion quickly took over, along with the smell of rot. He picked up the bundle of cloth and found only his robe. He looked around, but all he found of his hard-earned gear – besides the robes he was now sliding his arms through – was his flanged made, the wand and the stupid amulet. The rest of his wonderful and luxurious feeling clothing was gone. Not a thread in sight.

“Seriously? I had them for five minutes!” Peter grumbled.

[So, my gear just disappears with my body when I die?] He questioned in his mind, brows furrowed. [But, my robe and weapons are still here. Can’t be touch based either. I was wearing the robe and I’m pretty sure I was holding the mace.]

Unable to figure out the mystery behind the missing gear, he turned towards the bloodsucker’s lifeless form, hoping for some good loot. The body was sprawled on the ground with its face on the pool of Peter’s own regurgitated dried blood.

Peter went to move the body and was taken aback for a moment as it crumbled to dust, but proceeded with his looting after a shake of his head.

“I’m not even gonna… It’s easier this way anyway.”

He picked the clothing and shook the dust off of it, before putting it aside. Once that was done, he used his wand to move the dust around and fished out three rings, an amulet and a chain where the left arm used to be – he wasn’t about to touch these with his bare hands after what happened before – and put them on top of the pile of clothes he’d just scavenged.

Done with that, he picked up his loot and moved to the secret room the blood-sucking boss had come from. Its previously hidden door was still open and through it he could see the sarcophagus. A chandelier very similar to those in the library – minus the stone pillars – hung above it, but gave no light.

Peter paused at the entrance and surveyed the room. Two doors on the right, and from the edge of the furthest door to the edge of the secret door, shelving and storage carved into the walls, curving at the corners. The only interruption was at the center of the far wall, no greater than six feet, where a huge horned and long snouted skull hung above a waist-high cabinet.

“Of course there’s dragons.” He scoffed.

Peter focused on his hearing, but the only sounds came from him. His breathing, his heartbeat and the odd stomach rumble. That and the faint dripping off in the distance that his brain had just about put on mute.

Peter walked to the sarcophagus and laid his loot on top of it before moving to inspect the doors.

[Hmm, inward opening. And corner fed – unless they lead to the same room which would be stupid. Left-hinged on the right and right-hinged on the left. They swing towards the wall. If I stand beside them on the hinge side I get a nice clear view inside the room.] Peter concluded.

Flanged mace on one hand and wand in the other, he decided to go to the door closest to the exit. He noted a shine on the door and looked at the other to confirm if there was also a shine on it. There was. Behind the shine, Peter could see the doors were works of art in and of themselves. He could not recognise any of the symbols and ornaments carved into them, but he could tell they held a great deal of meaning.

Breaking out of his reverie, he looked around for something to throw at the door and that’s when he realized there wasn’t a lot in this room despite all the storage space. At least from what wasn’t hidden behind a cabinet door, there didn’t seem to be. There were a few books and some scrolls, there were also some figurines, trinkets and… art pieces? Everything here seemed to be set more for embellishment and presentation than safeguarding.

Peter walked to the left side of the room and picked up the first object he found. None of them glowed, so he wasn’t too worried – until he remembered the amulet didn’t glow either. Luckily, nothing happened.

The object he’d picked up was a statuette of an egg encased in leafy vines that descended to form three legs. The smooth white marble of the egg was mired only by the sucker growths shooting off randomly from the main vines. Peter was already regretting what he was about to do, the level of detail was so great. Whoever carved this was a master.

With a quick swivel of his head, Peter realized everything else was just as meticulously crafted. “Let's get this over with.”

Peter walked back over to the door and with a light underhand swing threw the statuette at it. The vine encrusted egg hit the door with a dull thud and dropped straight down. The noise upon reaching the ground was a lot louder as it bounced twice before coming to a stop. But it didn’t break.

“Huh.” Peter looked from the door to the egg and back again. He was glad the statuette didn’t break, but was more intrigued by the fact that there was no bounce when it hit the door.

Getting closer to the door, he lifted his mace and gave it a light tap, but felt no impact response or sound. This time he decided to give it a real hit and lifted his mace up and brought it down hard on the door. Another dull thud was all he got in return. There was barely any impact or kickback. “What is this? Vibranium?”

Taking a deep breath, Peter reached out with his left hand, pausing just before he touched the door. “Worst case, you’ll respawn, get on with it.” He gave the door a quick tap with his fingers and pulled his hand back. Nothing happened. Another tap. Nothing. This time he laid his hand on the door and still nothing happened. Feeling like an idiot he reached for the door knob, but found the door was locked.

“Of course it’s locked, why would anything be easy?” What he found strange was that there was no keyhole.

Peter walked to the other door, which also didn’t have a keyhole and found it was locked, as well. Taking a step back he studied the doors. There had to be a way to open them. [Please don’t be a spell or secret password.]

After a quick scan of both doors, he found it. A groove centered on the top half of the doors resembling the one on the mural-turned-door to this secret chamber. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand he knew how to open the doors, on the other he didn’t really want to touch the amulet again.

“It wasn’t the amulet, it was the guy and the guy’s dead.” He told himself as he stood in front of his loot pile.