“Wha… What the hell?” Standing at the top of the stairs, Rebecca stared and slowly moved her gaze from one side of the entrance to the other, slowly taking it all in.

“Not Hel,” Matthew corrected, as he eased up the last few steps to stand beside her. “Something worse. The dungeon entrance must be somewhere close by. Probably in the auditorium,” he offered, pointing to the completely overgrown wall where the doors once stood.

“Why’s that area still clear?” Rebecca asked, pointing over to the shattered remnants of the school store. “The vines and moss haven’t taken over there yet.”

“I dunno.” Shrugging slightly, Matthew casually began to wade through the deep moss covering the lobby of the main entrance, and worked his way towards the corner where the store used to stand. Hesitant, but not wanting to stay behind by herself, Rebecca slowly followed in the path he made wadding through the overgrown moss that left stains and slime clinging all the way up to her knees.

Getting closer, Matthew stopped and then pointed with a finger as he laughed lightly. “Salt. It’s where they keep the bloody bags of salt which they use on the entranceways in the winter to help clear the snow and ice,” he pointed out, a slight smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “For all their damn magic, the fey can’t handle cold iron or salt worth a damn. They can’t even make their damn swamp vines or moss get near the stuff.”

“So we’d be safe there,” Rebecca said, making it sound more like a fact than a question.

“Sure would,” Matthew agreed. “The bastard gibberlings couldn’t get you in there and their magic wouldn’t touch you either. However…” He shrugged and didn’t say anymore.

“However what?” Rebecca had to ask, too curious not to.

Sighing, Matthew just shook his head slightly and then walked out of the thick moss and sat down upon the plain tile floor, before pulling a large plastic bag from where it sat stacked against the wall into his lap. “You’ve got to learn to think for yourself,” he sighed again. “If I spoon feed you every answer, you’re just going to become a ditzy dependent and not a true partner, and I don’t want that. If you’re a gibberling and you can’t step foot inside this area, and your magic won’t work, just what the hell would you and your twenty buddies do?”

“I’d shove one of the flagpoles up your ass,” Rebecca muttered angrily, feeling like she was being made fun of.

“Exactly,” Matthew nodded, condescendingly. “You’d poke something at me, throw something at me, lasso me with some rope, or come up with some other nice way to force me out of here – and that’s if you were being nice. If you were just wanting to have fun and play with me – and sometimes the gibberlings do like to play with people – you might just decide to sit around out there, make me watch as you dance and laugh and eat my friends, and then wait on me to starve to death.”

“Does that really sound like a safe place to you?” Matthew asked patronizingly.

Snorting, Rebecca didn’t say a word as she turned her back on him and slowly started working her way through the deep moss towards the door. Glancing down the hall past the auditorium, she suddenly stopped once again and stood dead still. “I see g-things,” she whispered, glancing back at Matthew. “They’re down the hall, leaned up beside the doors leading into the gym.”

“And what am I supposed to do about it?” Yawning, Matthew moved the bag holding the salt from his lap, sat it on the floor behind him, and then leaned back to use it as a pillow. “I’m tired. You can handle it.” Waving his hand dismissively, he closed his eyes and then crossed his arms on his chest, making it seem as if he had every intention of just going to sleep.

“You… sorry… little…. son… of… a…” Chewing furiously on her lower lip, Rebecca’s eyes narrowed dangerously and she slowly began to cuss softly, but passionately, under her breath. Matthew didn’t move, or even twitch, seemingly oblivious to the entire barrage of expletives which she unleashed on him.

Finally, her anger reaching the boiling point where she bit her lip so hard blood began to ooze down her chin and a damage report appeared in her combat window, Rebecca turned and rushed down the hallway at the two figures. Faster than she would have believed possible herself, she was upon them, and spinning furiously, unleashing the Dance of Striking upon the first gibberling, sending its head flying. Smoothly, effortlessly, Rebecca did a flawless backspin, covering the short distance separating the two creatures, and slid her blade deep into the top of the still sleeping beast’s skull.

Panting and flushed from the sudden rush of excitement, Rebecca glanced back down the hall to see if Matthew had witnessed her flawless performance, before growling lightly under her breath. Nowhere to be seen, apparently he was still laying down and relaxing on the cool tile floor, not even caring enough to keep a dutiful watch over her.

Feeling herself tremble from frustration, Rebecca swiped at the moss covering the door leading into the gym with her fist, and then leaned forward straining to see past the green slime staining the window. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark gloom in the gym, but when they finally did, she almost felt like dancing joyously back down the hall.

Survivors.

Survivors were huddled together and trapped inside the gym. The little bastards she’d just killed had fallen asleep against the doors, guarding the entrance to keep them from escaping. There were still survivors inside the school!