《The Dungeon of Potential》Chapter 9

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While I was walking toward the Tiki’s office, I started thinking on something that’s been bothering me for awhile.

Kevin : ‘The missing link!’

Alex : ‘I hate you Kevin. I hate you SO, SO MUCH!! You literally cause me pain.’

Gwen : ‘He does have a point though.’

Alex : ‘Gwen...’

Gwen : ‘I’ll keep quiet.’

Alex : ‘Good girl.’

Geez, I hate Kevin. Gwen’s alright, very quiet, but alright. But Kevin, I want to materialise and strangle him. Gah!

He is correct, however. The missing memory. That thing, the being, it took more then just my sanity. It never directly said it, and if it did it erased that as well, but somethings gone.

I may be a retard some times. Or most the time. All the time actually. But I am semi-smart-ish.

I may sound crazy, but some things just don’t make sense.

Kevin : ‘Where is the sense?’

Gwen : ‘Where did all the sense go?’

Alex : ‘SHUT. THE FUCK. UP.’

Oh I’m going to hurt them, I take it back. GWEN IS NOT ALRIGHT! She’s not even half right. She’s just, not right.

*sigh*

The things that don’t add up are also... there’s just to many of them. For instance, why did I make a massive, and I mean MASSIVE, room behind my core room? I mean, at least put my core in it. That just doesn’t sound like it makes sense.

And why were there houses in it? Why would I need houses? And while I remember making the cavern, I don’t remember making the houses.

*sigh*

I’m here, anyway. Walking in, I see the room empty. No tiki anywhere. I don’t think I gave it sufficient credit last time I was here, but it is quite tasteful. The walls were covered in wood panelling, some type of mahogany, stained a deep, rich red.

Gwen : ‘Reminiscent of dried blood.’

Alex : ‘Gwen...’

Gwen : ‘Got it.’

*sigh*

There was a relatively high desk in the middle of the room, made from some type of dark wood. It had exquisite engravings of vines and flowers near the edges, with a great tree in the centre. It was clearly done by a master carpenter, looking incredibly life like.

Sitting behind this grand desk was a dark brown, leather, wingback chair. The chairs feet had been carved into simple balls with a flat end sitting upon the floor. It was a beautiful chair, very well done, fitting the room like a glove.

Along the back wall was a large bookshelf filled with all manner of books. Large and small, hard cover and soft cover. Some of the books had leather covers, and some so old they were merely a bundle of pages tied together with some sort of plant fibre. Some were new enough to be made of plastic, and some seemed to be actual tablets made from some unidentifiable futuristic material.

Kevin : ‘Mess with his stuff.’

Alex : ‘Kevin, I will stab you. I will physically rip a portion of my brain out and stab it. Your like a parasite that lives off my misery!’

Kevin : ‘As the prophesy foretold.’

Alex : ‘That makes no sense. And even if it did, no prophecy foretold you and your crappy voice. Any prophet telling about you deserves to be stabbed in the neck with his own teeth. GWEN!’

A choking noise sounded out within my head. Oh Gwen. My favourite. But that crap speckled, turd humper had a good idea. Let’s mess with his stuff.

Scanning the desk I ran my fingers along the engravings, nothing. Going over to his chair I sat down. It felt so wrong and yet so right. It’s his chair, and personally, I hate people sitting in my chairs. It messes with the butt print and makes everything just feel not right. It can take a day or two to fix but it’s a pain the entire time. I felt proud. It was also a very comfy chair.

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Looking at the desk from this point of view, I saw three draws, each with a mystical scene carved into them. Trying to open these draws brought up nothing. Unconsciously I fell into an old habit I had on earth. I sang

🎶I spent a year out in the dessert, spent a year out in the seas.🎶

While I did I ran my fingers under the lip of the desk looking for a trigger or something. It’s what Sherlock would’ve done.

🎶I spent my nights under the stars just dreaming of sleep.🎶

I fingered a little crack. But was it really. I carried on along the crack and felt how straight it was.

🎶I still question where I’ve been,

I still question where I’ll go.🎶

It continued into a sharp-ish turn before reaching an end. I pushed up on it. Nothing.

🎶I just look up to the skies like there’s a sign I didn’t see, like there’s a sign I didn’t know.🎶

Looking under the desk to see this ‘crack’ I see nothing. As soon as I try to look, the crack disappears under my finger. I sit back up and it reappears. Focusing now, I stop singing. Once again, it disappears.

Gwen : ‘You can’t focus. It’s like a spell.’

Might as well give it a try

🎶I know I’ve lived a wicked life, and I will never change my ways.🎶

I sang again, not really focusing on anything. That’s my specialty. Seriously, my middle name is not focusing on anything.

The crack reappeared. I continued to run my hand along it in the opposite direction. It again ended in a curve.

🎶An unapologetic runaway until it’s my last day.🎶

Interesting. I felt within the crack and again found nothing.

Gwen : ‘You can’t concentrate on it at all. It has to be an errant though to run your hands upon it. Focus on your song.’

Deciding to do as the voices in my head say I continue to sing, putting my heart into it.

🎶Why is it so easy, to light a match and watch,🎶

🎶We were made of dried up timber,🎶

🎶We were made to turn to dust.🎶

🎶Ooo-ooo-ooo. Take me on down.🎶

🎶Ooo-ooo-ooo. At the gallows it was mercy I had found.🎶

And sure as donkey legs, a latch appeared. A simple indent big enough to fit my fingers in and pull down. And so I did. A grating noise filled the room, and looking behind me I saw the bookshelf turn on an axis. Classic villain hideout.

I pulled my fingers back but continued to sing. I like singing. Though I don’t get to do it often enough, I think it’s important that I continue. I’ve lost a vital memory, my sanity and things I’m sure I’ll figure out later, but I don’t want to lose me. Not again anyway.

I walked through the doorway and found myself going down the hallway. At the end there was a light. Guess my song needs to be put on hold. Invisibling myself I went down the hallway.

The strongest thing that should have set me off was the smell. A coppery smell filled the air. It wasn’t just this though, it smelt like rot.

When I finally reached my destination. Inside the room was a shrine. That’s all I could call it. There were plants and animal remains spread out in intricate runes forming a complex ritual. Among the animal remains there was everything from scales to skulls. From talons to fur. It was a scene that was incredibly gruesome. At the centre of all this was a body hanging from the ceiling on a meat hook.

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A female body.

It had been mutilated so beyond recognition that I could hardly believe that this was once alive.

It’d been blood eagle’d. To those who don’t know, a blood eagle is what the vikings used to do. First they would hang someone from there arms up in the air so that there feet wouldn’t touch the ground. They would break that persons ribs near there spine and force them open like some gruesome wings. They would then reach in through the hole they had made, take the lungs and hang them over the persons ribs. It was the most gruesome display of torture they had.

The top half of the heads scalp had been cut off showing the brain. The brain had multiple long, meter needles running through it.

The corpse was missing its eyes. It’s skin was also missing, its entire body was just a mass of muscle.

It had no finger nails or toe nails and all of its limbs were broken in multiple places.

There were chains holding it up from the sides of the room. It had been spread out in the air.

It was then that I saw a pair of wings hanging from the ceiling.

I immediately hunched over, trying to hold in my vomit. I couldn’t vomit or I’d leave traces, I couldn’t leave a trace.

And the worst part of it all was who it was. Or who it looked like.

It was a splitting image of Erin.

This body. This poor being had been put through so much. I, i can’t stay here.

Turning around I ran back into the room felt under the desk and pushed the latch up. The door closed.

That was horrid. I need to find out, is it Tiki or is it someone framing him. I need proof to tell Erin.

But should I. If I’m correct her father tortured her mother before killing her and Is now using her in some sort of demonic, ungodly ritual. No, I need to keep this to myself. I need to leave. I started leaving, and then I stopped.

No. Why should I conform to this sick bastards view. He doesn’t know I saw that, and he won’t know.

No, I’ve got control now. And I plan on keeping it.

I walked back to his desk and got comfy in his chair. Damn straight, Alex is in control now. I felt his draws, but again they wouldn’t open. Last time I needed to not focus. To be completely and utterly relaxed. Obviously that’s out of the window now. To take my mind off things I started humming the tune to whiskey fever.

Half way through the song tiki appeared.

“Ho-how are yo-you here?” He stuttered upon seeing me.

“Your dead. Your dead? Yes your definitely dead.” He continued. I didn’t look as different as you’d think. My crystal body was based off my now body, just crystal-y and with tails and horns and stuff.

“Obviously I’m not, or why’d I be here?”

He was silent, obviously thinking something through.

Kevin : ‘Let’s fuck with him.’

Alex : ‘Kevin you son of a dick-less, man-whore, I like the way you think. Now shut up.’

Putting on my best deadpool impression I said with a wicked grin.

“Well tiki, you see, Christmas has come early, and your on my naughty list.”

Let’s be more evil. I condensed mana behind me into the illusionary form of a dagger. I shot it at him at break neck speeds before stopping it just before his eye. The girlish shriek and the way he fell on his bum gave me so much satisfaction. And then I noticed his eyes. HIS GODDAMN EYES!

They’re steady. Mother fucker shrieks and falls on his ass but isn’t actually scared. It’s an act for him. A fucking act! Keep it cool Alex, you hold the cards. Gwen, keep an eye out for other strange things. I decide to continue.

“Now Tiki. Tiki, tiki, tiki. You’ve been bad.” I gave the dagger a twirl before turning it into a black cat I had swim through the air before curling around my neck and settling on my shoulders before bursting out of existence with an audible pop. I’m getting good at this mana thing. It takes more mana to make a more detailed picture, but less mana if your image is clear, and I’ve got three minds worth of screwed up ideas. Hehehe.

“You see, you lied to me. I don’t like being lied to. You see, Mr.Tiki, something bad has happened.” I formed my mana into a bubble and pushed it into the room. I started making more and more until the room was filled with toxic green bubbles. I saw his worried expression and could only think of that poor thing behind his shelf.

“Because of your little fib, your daughter took an attack for me. It’s been awhile and she hasn’t come back. I started doing some digging and well...” all the bubbles popped, the noise making him jump. Bastards not even scared.

“... the dungeon we killed hasn’t come back, and neither has the one that attacked us. This makes me ANGRY!” I scream the last word. I make my body turn bright red and have steam shoot from my ears. Illusions be my bitch. Oh how I hate watching this creature fake-squirm before me.

“You lied and because of that your daughter died, and then my dungeon died.” With that I had the room darken. These illusions were getting hard so I gave the reins to Gwen. Can’t trust Kevin after all. Shame, Gwen is doing a lot for me.

“I-I-I-I...” he stuttered out. He honestly disgusts me. He was still on the floor. And he’s not even scared. I said

“I’m just kidding with you tiki. That didn’t happen. Well, your daughter didn’t die. Well she did, but she came back anyway...” I turned serious

“Tiki. You lied to me. You lied to your daughter. Only do to me did we come back from the dead. I will ask you this once, and if you lie to me, I will torture the truth out of you. You will be destroyed and rebuilt by me. I suggest you explain.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...” he was crying. He had the actual balls to cry. That snivelling shit-biscuit isn’t even scared.

“Shut up you snot nosed rat.” He got over himself and said

“The sages made me, they made me...” I shut him up with a glare.

“You can die. Yes you can. But we had to make it so. There are over two hundred perspective dungeons each year. We can’t just let you all through, we need a way to separate the wheat from the chaff. Otherwise this operation, the In Between, would be nothing. “

“And the mana source...” I trailed off.

“I-I-I...” another glare made him come forward.

“I can’t tell you that. The gods of the multiverse would destroy us. Only they have the right to tell you.”

“AND WHO SAYS THAT! THEY DO DONT THEY! ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT THEY HAVE CONTROL OVER OUR LIVES!!!” I roared. I was fed up of his excuses.

“Yes.” He screamed back in a pathetic voice. “The gods are those that unlocked their true names. They are always in control...”

“Explain.”

“They have unlocked their true names. They have access to more power then we can dream of. They even created a universe within the multiverse for just themselves. No other being can do that. They have all power. Their words are law.” So true names are important.

“And you don’t think if you banded together, instead of killing new dungeons you helped them, that you wouldn’t over run them.”

“It’s not that simple! Gods have the power to stop mana, control spells and more. They can destroy worlds if they want. It would take every dungeon currently alive to kill even a lesser god. They are masters in their specialties.”

“If they limit dungeon numbers then why...”

“It’s their doing. When dungeons get big enough they become threats to even greater gods. But by the time they’ve gotten there they’ve been killed. And not just killed but absolutely decimated.” I nod. The gods seem troublesome.

“And me. Why did you kill me.”

“What are you...”

“DONT LIE TO ME!!!”

“We had to. We couldn’t have been sure you’d have said yes otherwise. Your imagination is so good. We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again. How could we pass that up. Others aren’t important but you, we couldn’t risk you saying no.”

“And so my thoughts and free will didn’t matter?”

“You chose this life. You could have chosen reincarnation...”

“COULD I REALLY! You influenced me firstly. You used some sort of magic. Don’t think I didn’t notice. You used it on all of us. Secondly, would anyone really choose to lose who they were. No.”

“We had no choice.”

“You did. Now explain the magic influencing us.”

“All it does is stop you from being homesick.” Seeing my look he added.” And the other is to get you used to killing. The fact that you noticed it. You have an extraordinary mind.” I glare at him.

And so it continued. I interrogated him late into the night. Some of the answers disgusted me and other terrified me.

I learnt that we had spent four days in our mana sources. We had 1 day of training left.

I learnt that the point system was bullshit. We would all get the same reward at the end. Ha, ‘reward’. It was access to a video game like system.

I also learnt that Alesia is a fabrication. We were going to be dungeons on earth. The time in the In Between was the same as earth and so six days had passed with the system in act. This system was given to all ‘new’ worlds. It wasn’t actually new. It was just that it had draw the gods attention. Beautiful.

Oh, and sages weren’t actually powerful. Sages were assistants who’d had their dungeons die.

And I also learnt that the factions are a load of bull. Everything they told us was basically a lie. When we went to earth, we’d have no contact with anyone but our assistant. The only way to return to the In Between is to have the dungeon die and the assistant survive, or vice versa. It’s all just so fucked up. So, so fucked up.

I didn’t say anything about the body. I couldn’t tell him I knew. No matter how pathetic he is, he’s hiding something. The fact that he can keep so steady, like he’s in control. Oh I smell a little something I like to call corruption stew. A bribe baguette. A deceitful donut...

Anyway. I’ll figure it out eventually. But now it’s time to help the other members of House Enigma.

And so like that I walked to House Enigma’s place. Let’s hope Erin was successful.

Hopefully not as successful as I was.

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