by Wolfe Locke
In the third drawer that he opened he came across a butcher’s knife. One could never have too many weapons, especially in a situation like this, so he added the knife to his belt.
Just then, the second minotaur darkened the archway from the larder. Trailing behind it was a small amount of dark red blood that flowed freely from the minor wound that John had inflicted.
He was about to run out of the doorway into the hallway when the third minotaur appeared and blocked his path. Although it could be the first, they look completely the same, minus the one I cut. They were completely and utterly enraged.
John didn’t know if the creatures were capable of any other emotions. All of the stories he had heard had been of them leveling entire villages in a frenzy of fury. It often took entire villages to band together to slay the monsters, and that was not without severe loss of life. And now John faced down three of them by himself.
It would not do to dwell on what the creatures were capable of. John was a survivor, and the odds had been stacked against him before. Maybe not this much against him, but he would do what he had to do.
Now, John was truly trapped. Both paths from this room were blocked by creatures that could rip him apart with their bare hands.
There was no way out, but John wasn’t about to go down so easy. There was no way that he could face even one of them head-on. When you can’t work harder, work smarter.
John straightened his back and placed one of his axes under the opposite arm. With his now free hand, he beckoned to the two minotaurs, hoping to goad them into attacking him. A grin was plastered on his face, showing a confidence that he most certainly did not feel inside.
If John had thought they were angry before, he was sorely mistaken. He watched as the beast’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets and the veins on their furry necks jutted out.
With twin howls of fury, they charged at John together, intending to gore and rend him.
The opening was small, but John timed it perfectly. The beasts were like two points of a triangle who were charging at John who was the third. At the last moment, before they could converge on him, John rolled forward through the narrow gap that they created and came up on his feet.
The two minotaurs crashed into each other. All that could be heard was the sickening sound of slapping flesh following the falling of bodies. The minotaurs crashed to the floor. That worked better than I thought it would.
John grinned like a madman, actually feeling for a moment that he was going to make it out ok and in one piece as he turned to run away. The grin was short lived. The third minotaur revealed itself. Its massive arms smacking him with crippling force straight into the next room. Quite literally.
Chapter 5: A Blessing In The Dark
* * *
Show more restraint. Only a fool counts his victories and blessings before the bloodletting is over.
Good point. John thought as he picked himself up off the ground as pain wracked his body. He just barely managed to look up in time to see the minotaur preparing to follow up the first attack with a second. The beast's massively muscular forearm crashed into John like a battering ram, and he went sailing through the archway, back into the larder, and against the far wall.
As soon as he hit, John heard something snap and his side exploded in pain. I should have seen that coming.
To his credit, John didn’t let the blow stop him for long. He was up and moving almost immediately, adrenaline moving through his veins like quicksilver. Forcing his body and his muscles to surpass their limits.
John knew a minotaur would be hot on his trail and would quickly be followed by the others. I need to think of a plan on the fly. I can’t take many hits like that.
He called out for the serrated butcher knife and it appeared in his hand. John threw it underhand into the chapel as he passed by and instead of heading back down to the end of the hall. Minotaur’s aren’t particularly smart. With any luck, they’ll hear the clatter of the knife and assume I’ve dropped it while running through the chapel and chase in the wrong direction.
Once he reached the end of the hall, John was forced to make a quick choice. Down the left hallway to the dark room, or down the right to the illuminated room with the sounds of water.
In that moment, John preferred the idea of being able to see any incoming threats rather than waiting in the dark in a blind spot like a sitting duck. He staggered down the hallway towards the sound of water. The pain in his side finally started to register as the adrenaline wore off.
Inside the room was a beautiful stone fountain. It was inlaid with filigree and bore the image of cherubs blowing water downward into the pool. The light had a calming effect on him.
Immediately, John felt more at ease. The water in the fountain before him was clear, but a faint green mist permeated in the air above it. He had seen such fountains before, and he knew what they were used for.
He said a silent prayer to whatever gods governed this place, and another to whatever gods were in control of his fate. Then, he hobbled up to the rim of the fountain, dipped his hands in, and drank.
This is my place. I am Sionna. Lachesis and the others have no power here. Though my power is limited out there in the halls away from my sacred waters. This is a fountain I have blessed. You will find it will heal your wounds and your weariness. I have left other such locations throughout this dungeon for you. Though you may not find them all.
A new voice? What is going on here? John thought overtaken by confusion for a moment.
Instantly a warm feeling began to spread through John’s body. He felt the aches and pains that remained from his encounter with the goblins melt away. Eventually, the pain in his side began to dull as well, and he felt the uncomfortable snick of his rib snapping back into place.
John felt restored. He was full of energy. It was as if he had gotten a full night’s sleep and woken ready and refreshed. He hoped that there would not be too many occasions where he found himself back at this fountain, but he counted his blessings that it was here at all.
As John straightened himself up, the green aura around the fountain faded slightly. I can’t use it indefinitely, either it needs time to recharge, or it only has a few uses period. He would have to be careful.
Still, there was every chance that he would find himself hurt again. Perhaps even too injured to make it back here at all. But, now that John felt strong again, a new determination came over him. He was an adventurer. A survivor. So far, he had never run from something that was too tough or too difficult. If there’s a will, there’s a way. John took a deep breath, checked his twin axes, and left the fountain behind. I need to find that key, and if I have to fight the minotaurs so be it.
When he rounded the corner, one of the minotaurs was snuffling around the hallway. If their senses had been any better, they would have sniffed him out long ago and he would have been cornered in the fountain room.
John let out a piercing whistle that alerted the minotaur to his presence, and with a roar, it charged at him down the hallway. Looks like I’ll need to do this the hard way.
John ran directly toward it, but before the two could clash, he threw one of his axes in an overhand throw that was aimed at the oncoming creature's face. His aim was true and the twin axe connected right in the center of its forehead where the horns met. The weapon bit into the thick skin and stuck fast, but it went no further. That was not what I was hoping for.
However, that was enough. The minotaur staggered in shock, and that was all the opportunity John needed. He didn’t break his stride and as he approached the beast, he slid under its legs and sprung up behind it. This time, when John slashed at the legs, he aimed for the joint where the skin was less thick.
John buried his other twin axe into the back of the minotaur’s knee and the creature cried out in pain. It tried to gain its footing but the leg that John had sliced gave out. It went crashing backward onto the
floor.
Wasting no time, and sure that the other two would soon come to its aid, John mounted the downed minotaur and drove his foot heel first into the axe that was buried into its brow. It took a couple of hard kicks but finally the twin axe bit into the creature's skull. A few more stomps and it managed to slide further in, penetrating the brain. The minotaur moved no more.
Even though they were not there, the two other minotaur’s roared in primal fury once their kinsmen had gone limp under John. That’s no good. They can sense each other.
Before they could appear, John retrieved his twin axes and ducked into the massive library. He left the dead hulk of the minotaur in the hallway behind him and a glowing orb that dropped upon the minotaur’s death that was quickly absorbed into his inventory.
Harrumph. You are lucky that Sionna helped you. It is not often she gets involved. You’ve managed to kill a minotaur, and here is the minotaur’s essence. With time and opportunity, it may be traded, crafted, or used to enhance yourself. Do not squander it.
Got it. John thought grimly. But in the meantime. One down and two to go.
Chapter 6: Silence in The Library
* * *
In spite of the grimness of his situation, John was pleased with himself. He had fought a minotaur and lived. That in itself was a triumph that under any other circumstances he would have celebrated, except in the retelling, the minotaur would have been twice as big.
You have done well, but do not rest on these laurels alone. Two of the roamers remain and they will be seeking to avenge their fallen brother.
Then I need to be going. Carefully, John crept away and found himself alone at least for a few. It was clear to him the two remaining minotaurs had previously gone through the library.
They must have passed through here after I threw the knife into the chapel and then rampaged when they didn’t find me.
Scattered all over the floor were dozens of old books. Many were destroyed, leaving only shredded pages and torn leather bindings. Even then, most of the library was untouched. Although it was grand by most standards, the library had the musty air of a place that had not seen use in a very long time. The dust that covered most of the books further proved it.
I’m running out of places to run. He had already seen most of the rooms and knew this floor of the castle was only so big, and John felt the anxious stirrings of a truth all adventurers know. Eventually, my strength will fail, and the monsters will keep coming after me. Nobody can run forever.
Worse. Those minotaurs are spawns, rather than born creatures. They won’t ever tire. As such, John knew they would remain relentless. He still had the fountain, but he’d seen its power start to weaken already. It would quickly be exhausted. I need to find a way out of here. Some clue to help me escape this labyrinth or at least find the key to the next floor.
That clue came in the form of a book as John crept stealthily through the library, keeping his head on a swivel and his hearing tuned into his surroundings as he made time to look about. He carefully looked up on shelves and shifted through piles of books.
Nearby, John could hear the clopping sounds of the remaining two minotaurs walking around in the hallway. When the sound stopped, John knew they had found the third minotaur he had killed. John waited for the bellow that would announce the minotaurs were coming after him in a rage. In the meantime, he was grateful for the limited reprieve.
The book sat on the floor of the library, among many others. The only thing that even drew John's attention to it was the fact that it looked newer than those scattered about, and the layer of dust was noticeably less. It may have been a trick of his mind, but he also thought that the book gave off a faint glowing light. Enchanted. Or a quest item?
As he got closer, John noticed the book was bound in brown leather, thin wisps of old hairs clinging to it. Human skin. John shuddered; he was sure he had rightfully guessed the source of the book’s binding. The writing was in an ancient language that John only knew from his studies as a child. He recognized a few of the words. "The Lesser Key" He muttered.
Maybe this will give me insight into the gods here. John didn't know why he had referred to the voice in his head that way. It just sounded right within his mind.
Or it could be a trap. An enchanted book that might seal me within its tome. After all, he was under no illusions about his situation. He was at the mercy of the god's whim in this infernal dungeon. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I have taken the book and stored it for you. At a later time, you may delve into its secrets when your mind can be allowed a bit of madness. For now, make do with what you have and make haste.
Make do with what I have? John wondered, repeating the advice. He knew a clue was in that statement. He looked at where the book had been. Ah. I get it. He picked up a piece of paper that had fallen out of the book. Thanks for letting me grab it. Quickly, before his pursuers could sniff out his location, John bent and began to read the book on the page which had fallen onto on the floor.
Torn Note:
"I fear that I will never leave this place. My hunters are relentless, and the fountain holds no more warmth for me. I managed to take down one of the bull men, but those that remain have become stronger. I know not what kind of evil magic thrives in this place, but I can feel it in the very framework of the walls. It is alive with the malice of those who dwell within.
I have found the key, but I cannot get near enough to use it. I fear that I will die here. I record this message for anyone else who may come after me, who may be thrust into this terrible place. If I find my way out, this message will be useless to you. But if not, seek me where the darkness gathers. As blood calls to blood, so do I call to you."
The note ended there. The page on which it was scrawled upon contained several drops of dried blood and a bloody fingerprint. Nothing else.
What did the note mean by those that remain have become stronger? As if in answer, the remaining two minotaurs stalked into the library. Their horns nearly brushed the ceiling, whereas before there had been a decent gap between the two.
They had grown at least another foot, and their wide, muscular limbs had become even more so. Power radiated off of them and the ground trembled. From their mouths, blood dripped onto the floor, and they regarded John with a burning hatred.
"Well, that certainly answers that question," John muttered with a sardonic laugh. John hoped that he would live long enough to find out whether or not the previous adventurer that had left the note had escaped. I mean, I'm guessing not, but we'll see.
He had searched every room except one so far, and that was the dark one. If the key was still here, that's where it would be. But first, he had to get past these two enemies that remained
It's different now, though. John had thought previously that he'd be able to take on each of the minotaurs one at a time, so long as he split them up. Now, with their increased strength, and size, that was going to be even harder.
Not all bad though, John thought as he peered ahead at the immense monsters. With great size comes great immovability. The creatures were massive, yes. But now, they could barely fit through the doors and archways of the place. The rooms were large, but the creatures had grown to the point that they would have trouble navigating some of the narrower spots.
I can use that to my advantage.
He would have to come up with some type of plan quickly because the minotaurs were ready to attack, each quivering as their bodies shook with unbridled power.
Sure enough, the beasts let out twin bellows and charged after him like wrecking balls. Each of their heads lowered so that their gleaming white horns would gore him.
John had learned long ago not to let his pride get in the way of survival. If faced with insurmountable odds, the best course of action was to run so that you could live to fight another day. He had spent the entire night running, taking what opportunitie
s he could, and he felt no shame in doing so again.
But now, he stood firm as the two minotaurs charged him. They must have thought that he had given up because their pace increased. Eager to spill his blood on the stone floor.
But John had no intentions of dying tonight. What tricks worked before would most likely work again. He had positioned himself against the back wall of the library, and as the beasts got close, he once again dashed to the side.
Still, at the end of the day these minotaurs are basically nothing more than animals. These dungeon spawned creatures don't learn. The minotaur crashed into the wall headfirst, and its horns jammed into the stone.
The other caught itself in time, turning its head to the side, but it still fell ungracefully to the floor. John took the opportunity to dash out into the hallway and toward the dark room.
John saw the remains of the minotaur that he had killed. There were large chunks of flesh missing from its head and torso. One gaping hole where its heart should be.
Well, that explained the bloody mouths. John had never heard of cannibalization among their kind before, and if there were stories, then he would know about them.
Could that explain their sudden increase in size and strength? Some kind of ritual? He supposed that it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. He had been abducted by cultists and thrown into a dungeon where a disembodied voice had told him to go forward and then thrown minotaurs at him. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if a dragon busted through the wall.