The word, “dungeon,” has changed in meaning over time. It can be used pejoratively to refer to any underground facility, or a—usually—windowless apartment that is particularly drab. It connotes something different for those of us in the gaming sphere, translating roughly to, “A dangerous place where I’ll get an excessive amount of dopamine.” Coincidentally, it means pretty much the same thing for our distant dopamine-seeking neighbors in the alt-romance orbit, but that’s beside the point.

Every modern definition interpretation of a dungeon lacks one important, singular detail. A dungeon, in its original definition, is a cell.

And you’re not supposed to get out.

A feeling of wrongness began to burrow deep in my gut not long after I stepped on the elevator. I had decided to go back to the lobby–a space I knew to be at least semi-safe. Work with my summon in a safe environment to get an idea of what she was capable of.

Without the press of a button, the chain rattled, and we began to rise. If given the option. My strange, violet flower companion was still dancing to soundless music, celebrating her new name.

We were going to have to do this fast. I had been jumped, almost immediately, on the last floor.

“Audrey.”

“I… am Audrey.” She froze mid-dance, as if caught doing something wrong.

“I need you to stay close to me. Don’t attack anything until I give you a signal.” I said quickly. The doors could open at any moment.

“Attack… don’t attack?” Audrey asked.

Damn, I didn’t factor for how difficult it would be to discuss tactics. There were two options, neither of them ideal. I instinctively felt like I could banish her, if need be. I had an undue amount of confidence I could bring her back as she was, either something from my raised intelligence or innate class knowledge of the skill itself.

Or, use the skill.

was far easier to use than my first ability. It wasn’t quite reflexive, I still had to focus exclusively on my summon. Thoughts became pictures easily, and began to transmit. I sent Audrey a series of images. The first of which was Audrey herself running head long into a camp full of goblins that surrounded her easily. It was possible to attach a feeling to these images, so I did, tagging it with a negative impression.

Then I sent her a series of positive images. The first was her, at my side as I crouched in the grass, hunting a dragon. Another series of images of us hunting faceless enemies one by one, separating them from a main group. I gave her several possible avenues of attack. From above, below, basic ambushing tactics as her movement speed—while quicker than her less evolved cousins—was still likely to be slower than a moderately quick biped.

There was a flash of irritation and rejection sent back to me. Impatience, Hunger.

She won’t understand, dammit. The first tendrils of a panic attack dug quivering fingertips into the back of my neck. I swapped out for immediately, and the panic faded. It was less than ideal to lose the Title’s inherent trap spotting ability before even seeing the new floor, but none of that mattered if I lost my shit now. A wave of calm washed over me.

Think it through. You have tools. Communicate simply and succinctly.

I took a deep breath, considering what would work best, then sent two quick images.

In the first, Audrey was feasting on a single goblin, about to be clubbed by another goblin from behind.

In the second, there was a pile of goblin bodies stacked high. Audrey sat at the top of the pile and gorged herself. I tagged it with a feeling of patience, mingled with satisfaction, hoping the message was clear.

By the end of it, my head spun, and I was dizzy and lightheaded.

It continued like that until the skill reached level 5.

“All… meat?” Audrey asked. There was a note of wonder in her voice.

“Yes.” I said. Then, after a moment. “If it’s not a human or made of valuable materials. Check with me first. But you can have my share of anything we kill.”

Audrey made a cooing noise.

I stepped closer to the edge of our moving cage, peering down into the infinite darkness until I saw a flicker of white below. The oil covered woman was no longer visible, but I could still make out the oversized albino wolf that had taken up his entire cage. It was like watching a distant star, until it finally winked out.

We ascended higher still.

Unease grew in my gut. The clock on my burner said that a few hours had passed since I first entered the dungeon, but it felt like far less time. It was possibly a shift in my perceptions, or maybe time worked differently here.

The doors opened to darkness. My eyes were already adjusted, so the blood-red moon peeking over a long row of battlements on the cavernous open ceiling was almost blinding. The UP button on the elevator slowly faded to nothing. I’d hoped that the feeling in my gut was nothing more than making a difficult situation worse. But no. The title had been trying to warn me that there was a trap, even if that warning had come too late.

Something brushed up against my leg as I stepped out, and I almost shouted. Audrey heeled at my side, her dark face panning from side to side, as attentive as a Labrador. I gave her a pat of appreciation and looked around.

There was no stray enemy waiting to ambush me this time. Only fresh bodies, styled to look like classical adventurers. I checked the pulses of each, two men and a woman, and found none.

Our surroundings were a hollowed-out ruin of stone brick that ran up dizzyingly high walls until they reached incremented buttresses at the top, many of which were crumbled and decayed. They cast the shadows of a gap-toothed, under-bitten smile.

The low keening wail of a siren echoed off the walls, rising in pitch and increasing in number until there were a dozen hungry repetitions, shrieking upwards.

I was barraged with a series of images. Bipedal, mangy beasts that looked more hyena than dog tearing into the Sunflowers on the previous floor. Gnolls. A view partially obscured from beneath a layer of dirt as the gnolls tore apart three different pairs of conjoined flowers.

Fear. Hate.

I stumbled away from Audrey, swiping through my menus, one mental pause away from dismissing her. The flower stared back at me, shivering.

You inherited

Not only that, but she’d used it almost exactly the way I had. She’d learned from me, without me having to explain anything. Another round of howls went up, sending goose flesh down my arms. Whatever I decided to do, it needed to be done in seconds.

Safest option short-term is to dismiss her. This is a dangerous situation and anything that fucks with my mind is an absolute no-go. On second thought, she used it on me exactly the way I used it on her. More to communicate than to manipulate. More importantly, I didn’t get any bleed from the emotions she attached. I knew they were there, but they didn’t affect me. I’m scared, but not angry whatsoever.

It was a serious—potentially crippling issue if I ever acquired a summon more intelligent than me. But Audrey only received a fraction of my points. I looked away from the dismissal prompt to find that the flower in question was gone. Another mental image came to me of a lone gnoll, relieving itself in the corner of the remains of a ruined tower.

Anticipation. Excitement.

I darted in the direction of the prompt, a dozen yards before me. It was a good catch. He was out of sight in a shadowy area, difficult to see even with my expanded vision. If I’d simply moved towards the howls, I might have missed him. Audrey had done well to check the perimeter. But if she struck without me, we’d be up to our necks in seconds.

Moving as silently as I could, I unsheathed my knife, rounded the corner and saw the gnoll. The creature was beastly, only around a head shorter than me, and thinly furred. Patches of pink skin bared by mange were clearly visible throughout it’s light-orange pelt, and its thick unclad feet resembled the paws of a bear. A short, gladius style blade balanced against a nearby wall, point down.

Where is she?

I saw her, clinging to a crack in the ceiling, poised above the gnoll. A strand of saliva hung from her mouth. I was about to call her back to me when the gnoll started to turn around. His organs were still highlighted from my dagger’s effect.

Similar vitals to humans.

No others nearby.

Unarmed target.

No retreat up the elevator.

Could easily alert the others.

I sent a single mental prompt to Audrey.

”Take him.”

And rushed forward with my knife.