Gamer Guild’s Dungeon (7th Floor)

--- The Huntsman ---

“Is he okay?”

“I… I don’t know.”

---

Stone passes underfoot, as whispering fades into the background. (Hard surface. Stronger push off, rougher impacts.)

Buildings out of place, out of time, pass by on either side, a deep misty fog filling all of it in (wrongness.) (Vision obscuring. Longer to be seen, range halved.)

A shadow shifts in the mists (too large to be human) (more along the rooftops.) (Preparing an ambush?) (Bait them in.)

Steps neither speeding nor slowing, the mist parted to reveal a large hunched over beast with long arms (greater reach) ending in (sharp) clawed fingers. The beast slowly turned revealing a (bloodstained) maw full of (carnivorous) fangs and two (hellfire) red eyes on a (half-rotted) face belonging to something that could only be (dead and corrupted.)

The shadows above shifted to watch, but made no other move, (scavengers) (waiting for opportunity.)

Stone creaked as the monster pushed off of the ground, and blade shifted in hand before stabbing the beast’s side with a twist, (once, twice,) on the third pull the blade was cast aside and instead the hand dug into the wound before grabbing and ripping out- “Oh god!”

The corpse broke apart into lights, eyes tracking them to cover their watching of the shadows above, their waiting for a dispute to the kill. The shadows shifted before fading back into the mists.

Gold and trinkets, holding no real value were left behind as the path through the fog continued, hiding predator and prey alike as both monster and beast danced through the night under the watchful eye of the (false) moonlight above.

A large funeral pyre marked a greater intersection of the streets, the heat pushing away the fog far enough to see several (not) human(oids) drag a beast towards flames that gave off the scent of smoke, but nothing more even as they ate away at those thrown upon them.

---

“Isn’t this… a little morbid?”

“It’s uh, it’s meant to be a horror game?”

---

Ragged clothes covered in bloodstains, limbs just a little too off, and distant gaze that saw nothing even as they toiled away at their accursed task, all marked these beings for what they were even if none of them had the same bleeding black eyes. (Corrupted…)

Shifting mists shrouded even as the heat tried to push away the cover, leaving the beasts unaware as one by one the armed (Corpses,) (the dangerous ones,) were dragged into the mist where only flickering fireflies marked their passing.

A gun clattered across the cobblestone as one such beast was dragged away, alerting the remaining as a dozen dead gazes turned to the space filled with violence, light, and then only mist.

The beasts spoke a garbled tongue to one another before two holding torches stepped into the fog, neither stepped out. An arm around the throat of the first dragged it to the ground, and a knife to the second sent their torches clattering. Flames sputtered for life before going out as a twist and a crack shattered one and two steps with a knife through the heart did the same to the other.

An arrow shot through the flame’s clearing, piercing the leader’s throat before it could rally the remaining, and leaving the beast to topple onto the pyre as it shattered into cinders and ash.

The last of the beasts fell swiftly, (arrows a waste, blade more efficient,) leaving behind nothing but more fool’s gold and worthless trinkets.

---

“That was…”

“Yes, it always is.”

---

Cinder and lights born of the dead beasts flickered about, as the streets gave way to a large stone bridge standing before a castle like cathedral. (Fake) corpses lined the entrance to the bridge, (marking territory, and intimidating prey) in a place that none of the scavengers had attempted to near.

More bodies littered the bridge as crimson stained the stone work, on either side of the bridge was a deep crevice with the wind howling as it rose from the dark depths below.

(Wait.)

A rumble shifted beneath the howling, hiding itself away even as a beast larger than any other found in the city of fog and fire grew ever closer.

(But where is it?)

Eyes shifted through the fog and hands tensed on both axe and blade as the howling dimmed to an unnatural quiet, as if fleeing the monstrosity before it.

(There.)

Far above a figure stood atop a tower of the cathedral clinging to a cross at the top, its body cloaked in fog and shadows but brightened by the (false) moon watching, waiting for the inevitable bloodshed of beast and monster.

A roaring howl tore through the air as silence was torn away and violently murdered by the beast as it announced its precense to incite fear in all that heard it.

A low rumbling growl was the only sound that dared to match it.

The figure leapt off of the tower before landing on the opposite end of the bridge, its figure more inhuman than any other beast seen before it in the city.

A full storey tall the beast stood with long spindly limbs, sores visible across its flesh where muscle and bone grew too large in bulbous patches and tore the skin attempting to hold it back. Across its body was a torn and shredded garb that could’ve once belonged to a religious order, but now were little more than oversized rags clinging to the beast with descreated religious symbols to be found at every tear. And upon its head was a crown of thorns piercing flesh through the matted black hair found between two antler-like horns that curved into the air and tore through it as they would anything else they touched.

But out of all of these dark disturbing details, one stood out with so much clarity that hid the rest behind the veil of the revelation that (the beast’s eyes-)

---

“I’m guessing that’s the mid-boss?”

“Yeah, but… something’s wrong with it.”

---

(-bled black.)

A clattering of steps cut the distance down to nothing, before the swish of a blade cut the beast’s flesh and left so much more to mark its passing as red and black fell onto the stones below.

And like the rest of its (true) brethren the (corrupted) beast felt nothing at this savagery to its body but the indignation that something would dare stand in the way of it and its master.

With a roar the beast tore a claw through the air, rending massive gouges through the bridge’s stone work even as it missed its prey and received a blade to its back in turn.

The beast shoved with its back sending the world careening before scrabbling hands righted it back into place as fingers dug into the stonework below.

Claws whistled before they could be seen, and were only avoided due to arms and legs working in tandem to avoid the weapon likely far more lethal than any blade on hand.

A rummaging hand dove into the pack as feet reunited with the ground once more before its sibling hand dug a knife between the beast's knuckles, (deep enough to hold weight if for just a moment.)

The beast’s claw rose into the air to ready another strike at its prey, only for it to have disappeared, a problem remedied as a molotov struck the Corrupted’s face.

Flames licked and danced upon flesh as the screeching Corrupted Construct thrashed about, clawing at its face and mangling it further as the burning light burned it in a way nothing else could, completely unaware of the blades cutting through its flesh for the sake of a softer fall.

Sick of the burning the beast threw its head back and unleashed an earth shaking howl, the sudden air snuffing out the fire and leaving a bloodied and burned mess upon its maw as it raised both arms into the air before blindly slamming them down and clawing at the ground around it in the hopes of killing the pest that made it feel pain for the first time in its cursed existence.

Flesh met flesh as one of these (sloppy) strikes got lucky, sending spine to meet stone at the bridge’s edge, a growl of pain and rage far more audible over the beast’s thrashing.

The light of the fae glowed bright, calming the rage and soothing pain, before a fragile weight clung to chest and heart, reminding (the need to protect) just as important as (the need to kill.)

Feet steadied on the ground, crouched, waiting.

Eventually, the beast’s thrashing slowed, not of exhaustion -(they don’t feel it)- but of uncertainty whether its enemy still lived or breathed.

Steps silent and swift moved around the bridge as the beast sniffed the air for the scent of blood and death or life and damnation.

Knives bit into the beast’s back to create footholds to climb higher, an action that made the Corrupted Construct still before thrashing as it found its quarry and tried to shake it off. As blades were withdrawn and stabbed back into flesh, the beast realized the worthlessness of these efforts, and so instead threw itself upon its back, hoping to crush its foe beneath its weight.

A rush of movement, a leap of faith upon a shaking earth, and quickness of hands worked together to avoid the demise of the fragile light they fought to protect.

The beast, feeling a boot upon its crown of thorns, rolled over before shoving itself back onto its legs as it tried to buck off the thing upon its head. As the weight was removed the beast looked up with half dead eyes and through the darkness of its own blood, it saw something in the moonlight it had never known before. And as the guillotine descended upon its open neck only one thought ran through its corrupted mind…

Hunter.

---

“I um… why aren’t you helping him?”

“It’s… complicated… but if you’re asking why aren’t you helping him?”

“Honestly, he’s scaring me a bit.”

“Heh, yeah… Just be glad you're not the one being hunted… that’s much worse…”

---

Boots hit the gate for balance and a hand gently cupped the fragile light to heart, as the Beast’s corpse hit the rest of the gate forcing them open as boots slid down the parting doors before hitting the cobblestone behind them as the beast dissolved into darkness.

The cathedral stood tall with a yard of graves in its courtyard, a handful of figures in black standing amongst the graves and watching cautiously as steps walked through the yard on their way to the church doors. (Smarter than the rest.)

One by one as stealthily as they could the figures drew blades and guns from their clothing, waiting for the signal to fight as a dead silence fell upon the yard, not even the sound of boot on cobblestone audible.

Half way down the path the steps stopped, as the one watching and waiting changed, a subtle shift that changed who was (predator) and who was (prey) in the yard of the dead.

As one the figures in black ran forward, rushing their target in hopes of swarming the monster and seeing it dead.

None of their blades met flesh, and their shots missed their mark.

Two blades tore through theirs, and a dozen more hit them dead.

The figures' movements were -(slow and powerful)/(completely choreographed)- batted aside with ease by hand, leaving them open for quick and brutal blows that had them breaking apart as their false existence couldn’t keep up, (couldn’t adapt.)

Their gunshots aimed at where their target was rather than where it’d be, and several of their allies were gunned down when these two things did not align, before a flurry of knives struck each as they paused to reload their (unreliable) firearms.

In the end as the doors to the church closed, only the dead remained in the graveyard.

---

“Okay, please, tell me that chill in the air isn’t just me.”

“No, I’m… There’s something wrong here… something familiar.”

“Great that’s… That’s not supposed to be here.”

---

A growl rumbled through the cathedral chapel as eyes landed on a stained glass mural of a black tree growing from a lake of black, a benevolently smiling creature watching from the branches as people bathed in the waters and worshipped the tree in imagery far more peaceful than the reality of- (Screams echoed throughout the cavern as the cultists dragged their victim into the depths of corruption, drowning them in sin and darkness without an ounce of consent, as their souls were smothered and rotted from the inside out to make way for a horror far worse than death’s merciful touch.)

An axe shattered the mural, before returning to hand as the rumble grew worse, fragile light the only thing keeping this cursed place from burning to the ground.

---

“Why does this dungeon have a mural to the Beast of Blackwell?!”

“The what?! What the fuck is that and why is it here?! I’ve seen the blueprints for this church when the GM was building this place, that is not the mural her sister drew!”

---

Listless horrors drifted through the church halls, whatever humanity the dungeon constructs were meant to have long since stripped from them by the twisted corruption seeping through the mist filled city.

The blades that ended them were mercy if it meant they wouldn’t remember the horrors they’d become.

The only route through the cathedral led to the rooftop where a horde of emaciated scavengers waited crawling on all four of their too long and too thin limbs as tumors of bone and swollen flesh littered their bodies as they gasped and moaned in a waking agony that only the least corrupted of the accursed could still feel.

---

“This is not supposed to be like this!”

“Yes, something is… deeply wrong here.”

“You think?! Because I know for damn sure that even the dungeon’s scariest monsters don’t look like killing them is a fucking kindness!”

---

As the last of the corrupted creatures dissolved into a twisted mix of darkness and light, steps turned to the nearby tower before hand over hand climbed to the top, with boots eventually standing upon the roof of a tower a gloved hand steadying on the nearby cross much in the same way the sacrilegious beast from the bridge had before attacking its would be prey.

(Fitting.)

Eyes drifted across the fog covered city, that while fake in the sense of being a Wonderlander’s Dream, was still as real as could be to the denizens damned to dwell within this corrupted city. In the peripheral just out of sight, things that should not be there danced, laughed, and slaughtered out of sight of the Wonderlander who put their soul into this place, only for it to be tarnished by a monstrosity that should. Be. (Dead.)

A hand clung to the fragile light as it nuzzled closer to heart, feeling the pounding of the hunt as slowly eyes turned to the (false) moon hanging up above them all, knowing it stared back like the darkest of abysses, after all where else had such an abomination been born?

---

“What the fuck is he doing up there?”

“I don’t know…”

---

A faint chuckle carried on the wind, quiet enough that you’d doubt you’d heard anything, even if you knew you did.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you.” The wind whispered, faint, sweet, tempting in a way that could lead you to hell with a smile on your face.

A growl was the Beast’s only response.

“Come now Jon, you used to be so… talkative.” The wind chuckled. “Your screams were such a sweet symphony before you finally stopped.”

The growl deepened into a snarl.

“Come on, use your words.” The wind teased. “I know you're not that far into the insanity, so come on say something.”

“Quit hiding.”

“Is it really hiding when you know where I am?” The wind asked softly. “But I suppose I have no problem showing off my new corpse for such an old friend.”

Up above the moon split open revealing a single wide eye staring down upon the corrupted city, as a black tear built up upon the edge of its eyelids.

---

“What the fuck?! That’s not how the boss is supposed to appear!”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Not it.”

---

The black tear drop fell colliding with a sickeningly solid squelch as it impacted the church rooftop leaving behind a large black stain upon all that it touched.

From the stain a clawed hand with seven four jointed fingers shot out of the darkness, before with a long arm with two bends it placed itself upon the roof tile and pulled the rest of the Beast’s form from the depths.

“I’ll admit, while I do prefer the old black tree, I think this new look is growing on me. Though it is taking me a minute to get used to having so few eyes after so long.”

From the puddle half rotted flower bloomed, a massive bloodshot eye gazing out from each petal as tendrils of teeth and turmoil spread out like roots and vines to hold the thing up as the upper half of a desiccated corpse covered in eyes and a dozen needle toothed mouths with black tongues lashing out stood in the center of the horrific abomination of rotted flesh and insanity.

“I suppose I have you to thank for that little… inconvenience.”

The corpse turned to look for its… favorite chew toy, a gaping hole bleeding black blood bigger on the left side was all there was in the space a human would have eyes.

(A knife stabbed into the soft meat over and over, forcing open a hole big enough to shove the soul stone in.)

Narrowed eyes stared into the hole unrepentantly.

“Luckily that won’t be a problem, given my unexpected return.” The corpse shook as the wind laughed.

“How?”

“How am I alive once more, old friend? Well… I suppose I should be thanking you for that, shouldn’t I?” All of the corpse’s mouths smiled as one, the eyes half-lidded with glee.

“After all, Wonderlanders feed on Madness, taking it from those around them to build their little playgrounds.” The wind continued. “And as we both know…”

Black vines wrapped around limbs, before suddenly the Beast was close enough to run a hand across its play thing’s face.

“I’ll always be alive in your head Jon.”

Lightning struck the side of the Beast’s head, filling the air with the scent of burning flesh. Something far more real than anything the dungeon had shown before.

“Get your hands off of him!”

“Ah, Yin Shen Long, it’s been far too long.” The Beast chuckled, turning its gaze upon the dragon freed from its corruption. “Let’s fix that.”

Before the draconic teen could make another action against the one responsible for the worst experience of her life, a pair of too long fingers snapped.

The young teen froze, shaking before bending over and vomiting out the corruption she’d thought herself free of. Her head was thrown back as a scream of agony tore from her throat and a series of sickening snaps and pops were heard throughout her body.

“Let her go!”

The Beast turned back to the young girl’s previous savior. “Mm, that’s going to be a no. Even if she was only with me for a night, she was quite possibly my greatest creation. Really should get my hands on another Incarnate some time, the things I could do knowing what I know now… simply insane!”

The fragile light peeked out from the coat covering her, before seeing the horror before her and (bravely) (foolishly) zapping it in the face.

Dead flesh sizzled as all present were reminded just how much the light could hurt the beasts of the night. “Yes, that’s another inconvenience I’ll have to deal with later. For now though…”

The Beast’s hand jammed itself into the coat before pulling out the light struggling in its grip and chirping away violently as she spat out every fairy curse she knew. The corpse smiled at the little fairy for a moment, before squeezing in a way that had her let loose a high pitched whistle.

Bones bent, flesh tore, and a bloodied fist met the Beast’s face before snatching the fragile light out of the air and holding her close to the heart.

The corpse stayed there, head tilted for a moment, before an eye on the side of its head reflected the panting figure holding the light close to their chest as she tried to fix herself.

“Almost forgot how close you two are…” A vine wrapped around the neck, and air became hard to breathe. “Why it almost makes me jealous how much of your head she takes up.”

“Get your hands off of them.” A voice yelled as a bipedal bear with light for arms tackled the Beast from behind.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day.” The wind chuckled, before a dozen vines plunged into the bear. “Still thank you for another play thing, the other ones I found lying around were a little… simple for my tastes.”

The bear’s head twitched and spasmed as it’s fur darkened to abyssal black, and the light of its arms flashed before disappearing altogether. The Madness Construct stumbled away shivering and shaking before two thick black branches shot out of its shoulders replacing its lost limbs as it turned on its summoner.

“No, Beats come on, it's me, Roxy!” The summoner pleaded with the lost soul.

“Oh, you’re the famous ‘Roxy’!” The wind said as if just realizing how rude it was being. “We simply must talk!”

“I have nothing to say to you, you piece of shit!” The gang member shouted before turning towards her summons and clapping her hands with a grimace. An action that shattered the bear into light while dropping black tar onto the church rooftop. “Sorry, Beats…”

“Oh, Roxy, it’s not about what you have to say to me, but what I have to offer you!” The wind told her in its sinfully charming voice as the corpse tapped its chest. “You see, with a bit of work, you and I could play the funnest of games together.”

“I’ll pass you creep.” The gamer girl glared.

“Are you sure?” The wind asked. “Because with my help I could make you into the greatest Madness User on the planet.”

“Don’t-” The rest of the warning was cut off as the vines tightened, choking their victim even harder.

“What do you say? You want to be a part of a guild? Let’s spread it to the entire world!” The wind offered as the corpse spread its arms wide.

“Fuck you.” The girl spat at the god before from her hands erupted a torrent of flame.

“Shame.” The wind admitted completely unbothered as a single finger parted the flames in two. “Well, have fun playing with Yin, it’s been so long since she’s been able to really stretch herself out.”

“What?” The gamer frowned as her flames died down, before a large clawed hand sparking with electricity wrapped around her.

Eyes tried to follow the scaled arm of the hand, to see how far an old friend had been lost or if she could (will) be saved, but the Beast's finger on a chin forced them back onto it.

“Ah, ah, we were in the middle of something Jon. You know how I hate when you don’t give me the attention I deserve.” The wind warned as clawed fingers grabbed onto the sides of the face. “But don’t worry, if you keep getting distracted I have a solution for that.”

Behind the Beast a black portal formed in the air from swirling darkness and leading into the abyss.

“You see this Dungeon thing has a wonderful little feature where the different floors chain together.” The wind explained as the corpse dragged its victim to the portal. “And the floor before this is the Demon floor, or as I like to call it the ‘hell floor’.”

The Beast’s arm stretched out leaving its chew toy hanging in the abyss.

“Now it took me a bit of finangling, but that means I can welcome you to your own personal hell.”

The Beast let go and hands shot out to try and catch its hand, the portal, something, anything… nothing.