Keeping his arm still sucked. Thankfully, the bear had broken his non-dominant hand, but you never really realized how many things you needed two hands for until you only had one. With the apocalypse settling in even deeper, Jack recognized that he’d never survive long, especially in direct confrontation with enemies. But he had his hopes up for a few reasons.
Jack wasn’t stupid, though he certainly felt it at times. After seeing the golden text box floating in the sky on the first day, he’d called out all sorts of variations for a ‘menu’ or ‘status screen’ to no avail. He figured, what with all the other sort of video game occurrences, that he’d have some form of info screen.
But one setback didn’t dampen his hopes for a solution to his problem. Especially with his most recent discovery.
Dungeons.
Jack was just doing a routine break and enter to hone his one handed lockpicking skills (he opened this particular door in under five minutes!) when he entered the garage. Initially, his purpose was just to find some materials for a project he had in mind, but that all changed when he opened the door. He poked his head in the giant, hundred by hundred foot open space, intentionally ignoring the not-so-conspicuously placed pile of mechanical parts in the center of the room. Then, he pulled his head back out, measuring the outside of the garage with his eyes. Not more than thirty feet in either direction.
A certain blue police box came to mind.
Jack drummed his fingers on the door, considering his options. On one hand, this was clearly magical. A dungeon was the first explanation that came to mind, and Jack was a heavy believer in Occam's Razor. Magical dungeons, paired with loot tables and other video gamey mechanics, probably meant treasure. On the other hand, Jack’s arm was snugly wrapped in several layers of bandages for good reason.
So no, Jack would not enter this dungeon. He closed the door.
But, that doesn’t mean I’m not entering ANY dungeon…
Fixing his arm couldn’t wait. Jack would quite literally die if it persisted. But he wouldn’t stupidly put himself at risk either.
And so began the slowest journey Jack had ever been on.
Unlike his initial rush to reach his parents, the streets were no longer drowning in chaos. While it meant that while there were some areas where Jack could wander around without worrying about being attacked, there were other areas where whole tribes of monsters patrolled. Goblins, ratkin, and lizardfolk were the three social ‘intelligent’ monsters that were in the early stages of establishing their civilizations. However, other monsters weren’t exempt from controlling territory. Large solitary monsters, like trolls or giant bears, sat in open areas rich with resources they didn’t want in the hopes that other creatures would be dumb enough to wander into their territory. Then there were the pack monsters, like dogs, some flying creatures, and all the rest.
Not willing to risk confrontation meant that Jack had to skirt around all of them. Finding gray borders between territories, or waiting until backs were turned before making quiet dashes to the next checkpoint.
It took nearly four weeks of mentally mapping out the layout of territories and keeping track of the invisible political web between factions, but finally he could see the finish line. One of many, technically. His target was downtown, where medical clinics and the hospital were. The first stop would be a small medical clinic, where Jack’s mother bought their prescriptions as kids.
Throughout Jack’s journey, he learned a few more things, and assumed a great amount of information. While he still had to confirm a number of these assumptions, he felt confident in his ability to acquire answers from a safe distance.
Assumption number one: if monsters dropped items associated with the monster, dungeons would drop loot associated with the dungeon.
Confirmed information one: dungeons were themed around the building they were located in.
Confirmed information two: dungeons were random, and rare. One in every thousand buildings were dungeons, but those odds increased with the notoriety of the location. For instance, the government building and mayors office was a dungeon, as was the library. For buildings that neighbored each other, the odds of that happening were beyond low. It seemed like every fifth building larger than four stories tall was a dungeon.
Assumption number two: The hospital was a dungeon, and contained healing related loot.
Jack made the final mad dash for the clinic’s door. A giant, blind monster was wandering this area, so Jack opened the door with exaggerated care to not ding the little bell. After closing it behind himself, he gave the area a look.
Definitely a dungeon. The clinic, while previously rather small, looked like a version of the backrooms, with shelves instead of yellow walls. Medicines littered the shelves, but they were few and far between, giving the place the look like it had already been looted.
Jack lowered his bag to the ground, picking out a colorful ball of yarn he’d looted a long time ago. He tied one end to the door handle, and then hooked the ball around the thumb of his broken hand. His good arm held a captain america style shield, courtesy of some kids' basement.
Jack crouched throughout his journey into the dungeon. His legs were used to the motion by now, and his steps were absolutely silent. Though Jack trusted his ears to pick up every slight sound, down to simple breathing, he didn’t rely on it. He peered around every corner with exaggerated caution, acting as if there was an army of monsters staring in his direction at any given moment. With each corner turned, he tugged the yarn, ensuring it was taught, and still tied at the end unseen.
The dungeon was quiet.
Half an hour later, Jack found a dead end that was more than just that. At the end, nestled comfortably in the center of the floor, was a wooden treasure chest. Jack set down his bag, looped the yarn through the handle, and doubled back.
Besides medicine that Jack didn’t need or want, were a variety of other items. Crutches, breathing apparatuses, baby’s first stethoscope, exercise equipment, and other things. Jack collected every crutch he came across, as well as some exercise bands, loose shelving units and the nuts and bolts associated, among other things.
Retracing his steps, Jack returned to his bag and the chest, again and again. The shelving units he set across the hall, and by using some tools he brought along, he secured two lines of crutches just above the shielding. Breaking a third, metal crutch by hand, he scraped the metal into a point, creating a hollow spear. He still had the ratkin’s spear from two months ago, but that was his weapon. Not some disposable junk.
Jack placed the hollow spear on the tracks of crutches, eyeing down the barrel. Lined up with the chest at the end of the hall. With that, Jack readied the exercise bands, pulling them as far back as possible. He loaded the hollow spear in the crook of the bands.
With a simple release, the spear shot out, arcing down sharply. It quickly slid across the tile floor, piercing the chest.
Jack crouched behind the barricade, spear at the ready.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Nothing happened.
Not satisfied, Jack altered the track of crutches to angle them up a bit. He eyeballed the distance between where the spear had first struck the ground and based his measurements off that. Creating and loading a second spear, Jack fired again.
The spear struck true with a hollow thunk in the dead center of the chest. Still, it didn’t move.
Finally satisfied, Jack moved his barricade around, preparing it to defend in the other direction. He stepped over it and approached the chest. He opened it by gripping the spear as hard as he could and hinging it open from there. Unlike his worst fears, the chest was just that. A chest, full of loot.
Half a dozen empty glass vials, something with a skull and crossbones on it, two blue potions, and three red ones. Jack took all six potions into his bag, carefully wrapping them in his spare clothes so they wouldn’t break against each other.
Next step was to finish the dungeon.
----------------------------------------
Jack remained stuck to the shelves, keeping his caution high. After his first hour of meticulously mapping out the entrance of the dungeon, he discovered that there was only one path he hadn’t gone down. And the reason Jack hadn’t gone down it had to do with the fishing wire pulled taught across the entrance.
It disappeared into the shelves on either side, but Jack had been to the back side of each shelf, so he knew it didn’t lead there. Which meant the wire either went through the shelves, or into the floor or roof.
Jack stood upright, stabbing the roof with his spear. Despite it looking like those tiles one would expect, it was solid. Dungeons followed rules. Breaking those rules not only weren’t allowed, they just weren’t possible. If this dungeon was designed to be a maze, then nothing would be able to break the walls. Everyone had to play by the rules.
Satisfied that the roof was solid, Jack set down his weapon and pulled out a pocket knife. He cut the yard at the end, stepped over the fishing line, and then tied the new end of the yarn to the other side of the shelves. No sense chancing the yard accidentally triggering the tripwire.
And so he began again, mapping out the second half of the dungeon. Every few turns had identical tripwires at varying locations. One rather curious one didn’t even run across the hallway, but instead just vertically between shelves. Jack would have run into it if he was crawling along the shelves instead of the halls, and he suspected that was the purpose.
Two hours later, and Jack had ‘completely’ mapped the dungeon. Again, there was an exception. This time, a false wall, where Jack could feel a draft coming through a crack between two shelving units.
Jack stood behind a new barricade, yarn in hand. He gave it a tug, and the door cracked open. After waiting for something to happen, Jack only moved again when nothing did. He held his spear backwards and near his head, ready to stab or throw it at a moment's notice.
He rounded his barricade, sticking the spear in the crack he had created. Slowly, he opened it over the course of many minutes, just to make sure it didn’t make a single sound.
Sounds of clinking glass came out from within.
Jack slipped through when the opening was just large enough for him. He had to crouch super low, sliding between two tripwires before he could enter the dark room.
Six naked humans floated in vats of red liquid to either side of the small room Jack had entered. At the other end sat a giant monkey in a lab coat, stirring some liquid in a bowl with a glass rod. A cap of blinking lights sat upon its head. In stark contrast to the bland maze outside, the room had a higher tech feel to it, going so far as to be even beyond what Earth could be capable of.
“Owha en tal chee.” The monkey said, clearly loud enough for Jack to hear. It turned around slowly, confident. “Ee l-”
Jack’s spear pierced its shoulder, knocking it back into the desk behind it. Jack threw his shoulder around, bringing his shield into his hand with practiced motions. Sprinting forward, Jack punched the monkey such that the shield struck both of its eyes. They immediately sparked, and the monkey screamed in pain and rage.
Jack didn’t let it catch its breath. Every time it went to move a limb, no matter which limb it was, Jack’s own was there to bruise it or knock it off balance. The monkey fell off its seat, and Jack followed it down with a punch to the ankle that bent his shield. The monkey did manage to grab Jack’s own ankle, but his armor blocked any sort of damage from coming through. One by one, the monkey’s limbs were immobilized. Broken or otherwise cut beyond repair.
“Wa- WAIT!” The monkey shouted. The vats on either side of the room pulsed with light, and the occupants twitched.
Jack huffed and puffed, getting off the monkey. He walked out to his bag, bringing it into the room and closing the door.
“I… learn!” The monkey struggled. “Good… servant! Listen!” With each word, the vats lit up, and the humans within twitched.
“You smart?” Jack asked. Now with more time on his hands, he gave the room a better look. The walls behind the vats were more shelves, holding bottles of medicine, vials of liquid, and loose pills. Its table had a sink on one side, a burner on the other, and many bottles of potions.
“Yes!” The vats pulsed, and the monkey grinned. It almost looked human.
Almost.
Jack picked out each unique vial he had gotten from the chest, lining them up in front of the monkey. It struggled to sit up.
“Stay down.” Jack’s tone offered no negotiation.
The monkey laid back down, resting its chin on the floor.
“You’ll do as I say?” Jack asked.
The monkey nodded quickly. “Good servant! Good… lab… assistant! Make… potions!”
“You seem a little injured to do anything for me.” Jack mused.
“Red!” The monkey pushed its chin towards the red potion. “Heal! Make… useful!”
Jack touched the potion in question. “This one will heal you?”
The monkey nodded, ecstatic. “Physical only!”
Jack touched the blue one. “What’s this one do?”
“Make money!”
“Make… money?” Jack didn’t expect that. Also, was his heart beating a little slower?
The monkey nodded enthusiastically. “Money! Give you! Sell!”
“But what does it do?” Jack asked again.
“Money!” The monkey said again.
Jack drummed his fingers on the bottle. He moved closer to the monkey, unstopping the bottle. “Drink.”
The monkey obediently opened its mouth, and Jack poured some of the drink in. While a bunch of the liquid spilled out, some of it did go down the monster's mouth. Satisfied, Jack drank the rest. Nothing happened. But it did taste nice, so there was that.
Next, he opened the red bottle. “Drink.”
The monkey smiled wide, eagerly drinking the liquid.
“Oops.” Jack said calmly. “Forgot my spear. Hold still.” He put the rest of the drink down in front of the monkey. It quickly used the arm without the spear in it to pour the rest of the drink into its mouth. Jack pressed his foot gently against the monkey’s shoulder for leverage and pulled out his short spear. The wound beneath spurted blood for a second, but soon after it began to mend itself. The red vials really were health potions.
Jack stabbed his spear into the base of the monkey’s neck a moment later. It didn’t even get to make a sound before it disappeared into black smoke. Its lab coat was left behind, along with some glass vials and another red potion.
Jack took that one and drank it, immediately feeling its effects. His muscles squirmed and itched, but Jack tried to pay it as little mind as possible. He blew out, holding his breath while he collected his items and left the room. He got as far as he could before breathing again. The air tasted better out here, confirming his suspicions that the monkey had somehow poisoned the room.
Jack followed his yarn back to the entrance, flexing his left arm out of the sling it was wedged in. It felt weak, and would definitely need some work. But it was healed, and that was what mattered.
At the halfway point, Jack paused in front of the first tripwire he’d come across. After a brief mental discussion with himself, Jack stepped on the wire. Just to see what would happen.
The wire snapped. For a few seconds, Jack just waited and looked around, trying to see what the trap triggered. Distantly, the door to the lab crashed open. Satisfied with that, Jack wandered over to where he had set up the barricade in front of the chest. No harm in reusing it.
“HERE!” Jack shouted expressionlessly.
A human shouted in response.
Jack flexed his healed arm, testing out its strength by holding the shield. Feeling confident in wielding the shield, he allowed his spear to sit in the end of the hall with the rest of his stuff. He felt more comfortable wielding a hammer anyway.
A naked human came running down the hall. Jack recognised it as one of the ones from the vats. And clearly, whatever humanity it once had was long gone. The thing didn’t act like any human Jack had ever seen.
Safe to say, he didn’t feel anything other than the impact of hammer on bone.