A match’s flame flickered and the wick of a deformed candle caught it. The old man nodded--his face dyed from the orange light--lit a smoke, put the smoke to his mouth and blew out a satisfying cloud. It’s stench fully awakened Jack.

“You didn’t listen to me and now you’re in a situation only people who don't listen to orders get themselves into.”

The words stung Jack. I don’t listen to orders? he scoffed. No, I don’t listen to sorcerous murderers.

You turned that man to dust with only a gun? Right. That’s not what gunpowder does. Not even the strongest gunpowder. That’s what sorcery does. You’re trying to hide it or something worse, aren’t you?

Jack jerked his head, tried pushing with his hands and legs, then, squirmed in all directions. He moved less than an inch: ropes bound him and they were tight.

You really don’t want me knowing what you’re doing…

I bet there’s a ritual somewhere here. Maybe you’re drawing energy from passersby like me...

“I must go,” Jack said. “End me if you won’t let me.”

“I’m afraid I’ll do neither.” The old man took a drag of his smoke. “I think we should start over. What’s your name?”

Jack spat. “You first.”

“They call me Hunter.”

“And they call me Jack.”

“See, now we know one another. Now we can talk.”

“I don’t like this place,” Jack spoke, contempt in his voice. “I don’t like what I saw.”

And I don’t like you.

I can’t lose any more time in here.

“You stumbled upon a cemetery, my friend,” Hunter said. “For as long as I remember, ugly things are its nature.” He coughed smoke out of his lungs. “You’re surely wondering about one thing and I’ll surely answer: I didn’t kill anyone.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“Laugh at me all you want, kid, but remember: you’re the one locked up.”

“There’s an easy solution to that -- let me go.”

“Sure, sure… You’re eager as a rabbit to run away from this place,” Hunter said.

“Understand: what you saw is bigger than you or I can imagine. I’d get into it for you, but it’d take a whole lot of time we don’t have. And you don’t really believe me now. Instead, just know that I’m doing you good by keeping you locked in here. Well, it’s more good for me than for you. I could say it’s better to stay than face what’s outside.”

“I don’t care if madmen or cursed ones wander this place. I got problems. They easily overshadow whatever this is,” Jack said. “I need to get something otherwise I’m dead.”

“I don’t give a damn if you die or cry,” Hunter said. “I’ll give a damn if you’ll help me. I need a hand.”

I’ve been people’s hand too many times…

“Sure, sure… let’s look at it in a different light. What if we make a fair deal?”

“A deal where I’m locked up and have no choice than to accept if I want to get out? Sounds very fair.”

“Indeed. Well, what are your desires?”

“A purple rose.”

Hunter laughed and his smoke fell from his mouth. As it hit the ground, he sighed at himself. “Well, I’ve got news just for you -- getting purple roses is a thing I’m very good at.”

“You know you can free me and let me get it on my own!”

Hunter’s face turned sourer. “Slow down, Jack, and remember to respect me. Otherwise, you’ll not get a thing from me.”

How many times times have I heard something like that before?

Hunter searched for something in a pocket, then in another. After a moment, he took out a tiny wooden box and opened it. Although the room was dim, Jack's eyes widened and he stared, dazed at the sight.

Hunter took a whiff of the box, grinned and put it back into his pocket. "Still quite fresh," he said. “So, I know what you need, time for you to know what I want.”

Jack tilted his head.

“What I desire is a favor of no more than a day, kid. You’ll carry something heavy over from one place to another.”

Right...

“And the catch is that you’ll kill me at the end?” Jack raised a wide grin. That box is beautiful, but are you really going to give it to me?

“No catch.” Hunter grunted. “I’m not a murderer.”

Sure…

Jack jerked his hand. The rope around it cut his skin.

“May the powers damn you,” he cursed. “I’m not helping you -- I don’t even really know what getting myself into!”

Hunter stood up, sighing, grabbed the candle and headed towards the exit. Door hinges squeaked and he stepped through. Then, the door shut and left Jack alone in the quiet darkness.

***

As the skins around his wrists tore, he beat his head on the chair. Awful pain rushed down his forearms, but he kept pushing. He had to.

That old man’s complete madman. A maniac!

Maybe not completely, but he turned a man to dust and now asks me for a deal?!

I need to get the hell out of here!

Almost there.

In the pitch black room, bound by rope to a chair, there weren’t many ways to escape. Jack thought of only one: brute forcing his way out. The effort seemed hopeless, but he didn’t stop. His life depended on it.

Jack slid a rope down his thumb. All the others that bound him loosened. One good tug and he’d be out.

With new motivation, Jack used all of his strength. The ropes flew off him and he smacked into the back of the chair. It tipped over.

The chair crashed into the ground. A moment later, a bang followed it. Something scuttled outside the thin walls and a dog’s bark sounded.

Maybe you’re not so foolhardy, Hunter, Jack thought. Head on, a hound will stop all except for the most determined.

That’s another new trouble…

He stumbled on to his feet and grabbed in the darkness, searching for anything. He gripped a wall, a table and his satchel atop it.

Yes! he opened it. Though where the hell is my favorite dagger? he frowned and kept looking. Ah, no time.

He wrapped the satchel around his back and slumbered towards the exit.

He pulled on the rusty knob and the door shook, but didn’t open. He growled through his teeth and smacked the wood, making the exit tremble even more.

Growls sounded from the otherside.

Oh, he put the dog right there?

Gotta think of something. If I just break out, that thing will maul me to death...

I could be as quiet as possible, but slow, or fast, but louder than a gun.

If I’m going in loud, I’ll have to kick the door in, making it crush that hound, then quickly run away.

Hell, I’m not hurting a dog.

If I’m going in quiet, I need to find a way to unlock this old thing and make the hound shut up.

He turned around and paced around the room. A few ideas circled his mind. Only one stuck.

The siege of Austae v’ Rednaro… We won it all because of that idea...

Jack grabbed one of the ropes off the ground.

I got it.

***

He took a deep breath and pulled with his left. The rope he’d wrapped around the handle ripped the whole door out. The wooden husk crashed and shattered on the ground.

Better than perfect.

He hurried out and tossed the other rope--which he’d wrapped around his right--at the hound. The animal growled and jumped at it.

Yes, bite that blood, doggy!

Jack ran through the narrow hallways, looking for light, dragging the heavy dog behind himself. He passed a bright library with no signs of an exit, he passed a spacious main room, empty of a way out, and arrived at a dead end.

Jack backtracked and entered the library. Bookshelves lined the walls while an armchair and a table stood in the middle. Above it all, a layer of smoke lingered.

On the table, a book laid.

“Trials and Tribulations of the Hundred Year Plan”, Jack read. He tossed it back and dropped the rope with the dog beside it. He started going through the shelves, hoping to find anything.

There was nothing. Or nothing that could help him. Hunter more than obviously enjoyed books about sorcery and politics, and not about a way out of his dark cemetery home...

Jack cursed as he grabbed the Hundred Year Plan and the dog. He didn’t know what use they’d have, but he kept them just in case.

Something ringed in his satchel as the book dropped in there. Keys. They must’ve laid hidden between the pages.

What help are you if I don’t know how to get out of here?!

Jack hurried out of the library and reached the dead end once more.

His hopelessness turned to anger right when he needed to focus. His blood boiled and he could only think of punching walls and screaming at everyone.

Instead of breathing and calming down, he gave in, kicking the ground and punching the wall.

The old man’s hound stopped biting on the rope and growled. In a flash, his anger disappeared and turned to worry. But the dog found another spot Jack had bled on and bit down on it.

Jack sighed, turned around and put his back against the dead end. Ahead of him--in the darkness--the grunts of an old man sounded. Jack’s heart dropped. Then--behind him--something rumbled.

A small sliver of light turned into a moonlit view of the cemetery.

Secret exit, huh?

The wall stopped shifting and showed a gate with a huge padlock.

Jack grinned, dropped the hound and grabbed the keys. He unlocked the gate and took a breath of the stinking air.

Indeed, he’d escaped a small cabin which stood atop a hill. It was crooked, covered in vines and overlooked a part of the cemetery Jack didn’t see when he entered.

The nightsun shined white on the countless headstones below. They faded in and out of the fog as eerie reminders of what would happen if he made too many mistakes.

What am I gonna do now? Jack thought, descending down the hill. He could run, improvising along the way, but he didn’t want to risk it like that.

Right. First of all -- I get the hell out of here. Then, secondly, I find a company squad and tell them about this madness. Thirdly -- I trudge through this forest again, get that purple rose and pray Guardian doesn’t kill me.

Good plan.

Jack reached the fog covered ground and dashed towards the fence. He’d end up in a part of the forest he didn’t know, but he was sure he’d find a way out.

Then, Jack bumped into a figure. A pale woman emerged out of the fog. Her black hair went down to her haunches and her ragged clothes left most of her skin uncovered. The woman put a cold hand on his shoulder.

She… she must be sick, he thought, backing away, panic rushing through his veins.

The woman lodged her lengthy nails into his shoulder. Jack squealed and jerked his arm. The nails ripped his skin like a sharp paw of a wolf, and blood stained his green tunic red.

“Oh, powers that be! I don’t know who you are. Or why you’re here. But I know you need to get off me,” Jack said and grabbed the woman’s cold hand. “Look what you’ve done!”

You’re wasting the little time I have!

The woman grinned and pushed her nails deeper. Jack screamed. A gunshot thundered in the distance.

The woman’s head turned to crimson dust.

Oh, powers that be! Jack cursed.

He backed off, his arms shook. The headless woman stepped forth.

Nothing had ever sent him into true fright like this. Nothing. The terror knocked him down into the dirt.

Another gunshot thundered.

Half the woman’s arm faded to dust, but she kept walking. First, Jack squealed then he screamed, kicking up dirt and waving his fists.

A third gunshot turned half the woman’s right leg to dust. She stopped and dropped... forward. Jack’s limbs froze and eyes widened. In the last moment, he put a hand over his face.

A second passed then another. Jack slid his hand off his eyes. There was no woman anymore. Only Hunter standing on a small pile of red dust, pointing a shotgun at him.