Jean jerked right up, short of breath. The thought of the walls caving in on him still lingered in his mind, it felt so surreal, as if he could feel the pain in his legs, when he ran from those traps. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead as he stared at the dim ceiling.
The second door.
The thought chilled him to the bone.
He hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Not because of the uncomfortable bed, but because of the anxiety he felt. The first dungeon had a series of simple yet effective traps, and even then, the first three groups that went before him triggered the majority of them. If the second dungeon was anything like the first, he knew he wouldn't make it out alive.
Letting out a deep sigh, he pushed the thoughts aside and looked around the room. It was a small space; when Jean stood up, his head nearly touched the ceiling. There were only five beds, each one occupied by a member of his group. Elise was curled up, a small blanket wrapped tightly around her. She covered even her face trying not to be seen at all. Lydia was muttering to herself, reciting every trap she saw like it was a prayer, she twitched from the thought. Callum was already awake, sitting at the edge of his bed, polishing his boots. On the opposite end, Ronan was snoring loudly, arms spread out as if he didn't have a care in the world.
Jean sat up, shaking his head to clear the remnants of last night's nightmare. Focus, he thought. Today, they'd go through the second dungeon—the door no one wants to go through. He kept telling himself that over and over, yet unease lingered deep inside, refusing to be silenced.
"Hey," Lydia's voice cut through everyone else's voice. She was already standing, waiting for the others to get ready. "Get up. Erik's expecting us to leave around dawn. We gotta grab food while we have time to."
Jean showed a shaky grin, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. "She's right. Let's go," he replied, forcing a smile.
They stepped out into the cold foggy morning. Dew stuck to the overgrown grass as they walked to the food hall, stomachs growling. Group One, Two, and Three sat down watching them, almost as if they stared holes into their head.
Erik stood at the door, ensuring no one left while he gave his speech. "All right, is everyone here? I'll take that as a yes. Today, Group Four will take the lead into this door." He pointed toward Jean's group. "Group Four's leaving in Thirty minutes." He said in a monotone, voice lacking emotion. "If its just like the last dungeon... trigger as many traps as you can. This will allow the other groups to come in after safely.:
Erik walked over to sit at a table in the corner of the hall.
Lydia quickly grabbed some bread. "Jean, you're going to want to eat. We'll need our strength if these traps are anything like the last ones."
Jean nodded and reached for the bread. "Thanks." As he took a bite, his mind drifted. What kind of traps are we going to face this time?
Footsteps snapped him back to reality. Elise, looking pale, joined the table.
"I—I'm going to die with idiots," she muttered, clutching the sides of her head.
A loud bang suddenly echoed from the food hall entrance. "What the hell is wrong with you guys? Why did you just leave me?!" Ronan yelled, fumbling with the belt on his sagging pants. "You could've woken me up!" He rushed over and began piling food onto a tray without a care in the world.
"You're a grown man. You should be able to wake yourself up," Callum said calmly.
The conversations slowly faded as everyone finished eating. One by one, the groups made their way to the door—even Jean's group. They circled around the ominous entryway.
Erik opened the door for Jean, but this time, it wasn't a hallway—it was a jungle.
"All right, you guys ready?" Erik asked, holding the door open.
"Ready?" Jean echoed.
"Hell no. I'll never be ready for something like this," Ronan joked as he shoved Jean aside and walked in with a spring in his step. He looked almost happy. Jeez, that guy's an idiot, Jean thought.
Callum reached down to help Jean up. "Kids your age need to learn manners."
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Jean walked in, his gaze fixed on the ground. The door shut behind them.
"This feels weird," Callum said. His tone was firm—almost authoritative. "It's too quiet. Even the hallway had some kind of noise."
Jean felt his stomach twist. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" Callum paused, scanning the area. "I've been in jungles before. Something feels off about this one. Like… something's watching us."
"You're paranoid, old man," Ronan chuckled. "Did you forget to take your meds? Oh wait, you did—because they're not here!"
Jean punched Ronan in the side, trying to make him stop fooling around.
"All right," Callum said firmly. "Grab some branches. If this is a forest, there might be animals. Honestly, I don't know what's here, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
Everyone picked up the nearest sticks, snapping them into sturdier weapons. Callum handed one to Jean.
"Here. You might need this."
They moved carefully but quickly, trying to find the exit. A howl echoed in the distance, and Jean couldn't shake the feeling that something was stalking them.
Suddenly, Ronan froze, his eyes wide. "Did anyone else hear that?" He quickly looked around. "Just me, right?"
Jean had also heard something moving through the brush—a low growl, followed by snapping twigs.
The brush exploded. A small green humanoid figure jumped at Ronan, its jaw grinded down at his leg.
"Shit!" Ronan howled as it bit into his leg.
Jean grabbed its legs, yanking it over and over, it twisted in his grip. It clawed at his arms, only minorly nicking him. Elise jabbed her stick into its side. It screeched in agony. Lydia went for its eyes, throwing dirt at it.
Blood. Screams.
silence
Jean stood over the body, panting, covered in sweat and minor cuts.
Callum grinned. "Good job, bud."
Ronan winced, holding his leg. "Barely. But we did it."
Lydia stared at the green corpse. "What the fuck was that thing?"
Jean knelt to inspect it. "I don't know… but it looks like a goblin. If we're going to survive, let's drag it back. Maybe we can learn from its anatomy."
Jean glided his fingers across the goblin's limbs, trying to feel the roughness of its skin and the muscles beneath. He could feel the stickiness of the blood and sweat from the minor cuts, the goblin had inflicted.
As he examined the body, he noticed several claw marks on the back of the goblin. It was about 2 inches deep, yet the goblin hadn't died from the injuries. It was as if its ability to endure pain was superhuman, Jean knew this would have been a deadly situation if he was alone.
Everyone took a limb—except Callum, who helped Ronan walk. Jean thought to himself: God, what's next? A dragon? If only he knew—he never would have said that.
They eventually found the ominous black door. The group walked through, finding that the grass field was the same, with every building the same too; the only difference was that the other groups weren't there.
They all went back to their little shack, waiting for the arrival of the other groups.
Erik appeared a couple hours later, alone. Blood covering his coat. Eyes void of emotion. Eyes hollow of everything.
"You were suppose to fight... I-I told you to make sure it was safe!" Erik mumbled.
"Huh? What did you say Erik?" Jean asked, as he looked at Erik's bruised face.
"You were suppose to fight," He yelled, his voice filled with anger. "You... you let them die."
Jean walked up to Erik and said, "What do you mean—"
"My team! My friends! I held their lifeless bodies as they bled out!" Erik's face clenched up. "It's all your fault those giant things killed them."
Jean stood there, he felt guilt pile in his chest. He just didn't know what he had done wrong. "Giant things?"