Glassy eyed, Joe stared at the opposing wall as he mindlessly chewed a heel of brown bread. Brown bread indeed. He chewed on.

He slid down the wall onto his side laying his left arm before him like a pillow. Sleep came to him in fits and bursts. His dreams were plagued with images of cackling sorceresses and groaning undead. Every time he jolted awake in a cold sweat, he'd calm his heart with his new found mantra and return to sleep. Like that, his self imposed night passed by, his only company the shadows dancing on the walls given life by the eternal torchlight.

At last he awoke, feeling somewhat refreshed yet his throat parched and an itchy feeling irritating his wrist. He examined the slight wound to see that, although inflamed, the puncture hole was healing well. He hoped that if the last battle indicated anything he might have a natural to ability to deal with poisons. Still, he didn't really want to test that theory out just yet in case it was a fluke.

He rinsed his mouth out with water, relishing the cool feeling as he took a sip. He smiled. ‘Here I am again, in an impossible situation, and all I can do is find pleasure in the little things” he laughed again as he thought back on the strange fountains from his stair climb. ‘My life has only become increasingly absurd’ and, as if on cue, the door at the end of the hallway rumbled open.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Stepping through this door he found himself in a larger pit than before, in fact this one could almost be described as an arena. This time he was not alone as before him stood not one, but two men. Each appeared well rested and their sleek muscles rippled in the torchlight promising violence. Their eyes only held room for one person, Joe.

One man spoke to Joe with a scratchy russian accent. “ I am sorry friend, as you are the last you face us both. Ah no luck on you side.” The other man remained silent, merely nodding at his partner's words. The russian swung a club menacingly in a circle that was previously resting on his shoulder. “Let us begin yes? I hungry”

Joe, contrary to expectations, felt a new feeling rise within his chest. Anticipation was it? Hunger even? His heart began to beat loudly in his ears as it resonated with the roaring flame at his naval. Boom, boom, boom. His blood boiled and his muscles writhed and flexed beneath his pallid skin as he visibly grew before the two men. He now looked like he did at his peak rugby days, tall, wide, intimidating. Built like a brick shithouse his brother had said. Joe looked admiringly down at his forearm as he clenched and unclenched his fist, turning his eyes to the two men on his final clench.

The two men's faces turned serious as they caught Joe's eye. The three nodded at each other in mutual respect. Tonight, at least one of them would dine in hell.