(Dyn)

  It hadn’t even been a few minutes before the stranger appeared behind Dyn.

  “I’ve got a pn…” the gravelly voice startled him from behind. Dyn flinched, falling out of the chair and onto the floor. The half-soaked toga g to him, stig to his skin as he scrambled to his feet.

  The straared down at Dyn pying ier. “But you’re not going to like it…” He walked through the hole in the wall and crouched beside White’s body.

  “There’s too many of them on the ground levels.” He dreink crystal dagger, lifted White’s hand, and cut at the wrist.

  ‘Is he taking a trophy?’ Dyn wondered. His brain wao look away, but curiosity wouldn’t let him.

  “There’s another exit, but we’ll need a few things first,” the stranger said, w the bde through the joint and exposed bones. With growing impatience, he stepped on White’s forearm and ya the cwed fingers with both hands.

  The hand cracked, then released with a siing slurp as he wre free from the body.

  True Crime had taught Dyn that serial killers took trophies from their kills, and now he’d just watched this guy rip off a hand. Did that make him an aplice?

  “You’ll his,” the stranger said, tossing the disembodied hand at Dyn. It smacked against his chest, spshed into the water at his feet, a a new blue stain on his toga.

  Dyn grimaced. The stranger was right—he hated this pn already.

  “Pce it on the sb,” the stranger poio the terror tube, “and tell it you want to go to the Cells."

  “Oh, hell no. I’m not running around with your murder trophy,” Dyn said, pointing at the severed cwed hand floating at his feet.

  “It’s a key.”

  “It’s a hand,” Dyn shot back. “And I don’t evehe nguage.” He’d say anything to avoid using that damn tube again.

  “Speak normally. Everyone uands you fihe stranger said, firming Dyn’s suspi. He bent down again and ran his hands along White’s body, patting and searg the sin dragon’s pockets.

  Dyn frow the hand, sighed, a down to pick it up.

  “When you get there, use the hand to open the cell with the dead woman. Take her cloak and rings. The rest of her gear won’t fit you,” the stranger said, finishing with White’s corpse. He raised his voice as he walked down the hall toward the garroted elf.

  Dyn ged at the thought of stealing from the dead. It felt wrong. How could this guy be so casual about looting corpses? ‘ht, just serial killers doing serial killer things…’ Dyn thought.

  “I mean it, Dyn. The cloak and the rings,” the stranger called out from down the hall.

  ‘How does he know my name?’ Dyn froze. He didn’t remember telling it to anyone.

  “After you’re done, get to the Ground floor,” the stranger called over his shoulder.

  Dyn groaned. “I have to use the stupid tube twice?”

  Either the stranger didn’t hear him or just ignored him. After finishing with the elf, he stepped over the shirtless body and into the closet. “What have we here…?” the stranger said, rummaging through the closet’s tents. He poked his head out and shouted, “Then, I’ll meet you on the Ground floor, and we’ll take it from there.”

  ‘This isn’t a pn, it’s not even half a pn. Where’s the part where we escape?’ Dyn wondered. “This won’t work…” he shouted.

  “It’ll work,” said the gravelly voice.

  “I really don’t think this’ll work…” Dyn shouted back.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make it work,” the stranger shouted, stepping out of the closet and into view. Dyn didn’t like the way he said that—he would’ve much preferred a more logical expnation or something warm and fuzzy to reassure him everything would be alright.

  The stranger walked back over to Dyn. “Are you ready?”

  Dyn sighed, spped the disgusting keepsake on the sb, and said, “I’d like to go to the Cells, please.”

  Ding! He really hated that sound. The curved doors slid open, and Bronze leaped at him. Dyn screamed, dodging instinctively. She colpsed face down at his feet. He stared at her unmoving body, trying not to hyperventite. A pink crystal dagger jutted from her spine, and her back was riddled with stab wounds.

  “Oh yeah, fot about that ohe stranger said.

  “What the fuck, man?” Dyn snapped. “Do all your solutions involve killing people?” He was gd his toga was still drip drying; it hid the fact he’d just pissed himself.

  The stranger pced a hand on his , pting. He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned over, ed his fingers around the exposed handle, and ya free. Wiping the blood off on Bronze’s corpse, he flipped the dagger handle-first and offered it to Dyn.

  “I’ll see you at the top,” the stranger said, spping him on the shoulder.

  “You’re not ing with—” The stranger vanished again, leaving Dyn alone in the empty hallway, clutg a pink dagger in one hand and a dripping severed hand iher. He sighed and stepped into the stupid terror tube. As the doors closed behind him, he sank into a fetal position, burying his fa his knees. His screams echoed in the shaft as it whisked him away to the Cells.

  The doors couldn’t open fast enough. Dyn scrambled out of the tube and quickly checked his surroundings. It was exactly as he’d left it—only one cell was occupied. He walked over and plopped the morbid token onto the trol sb.

  ‘Why put her in a cell?’ Dyn wondered. What was she going to do—get up and walk away? Then he remembered: he’d died twice since arriving. This was a nd ons, murder-hobos, and magieancy robably a thing here. Extra precautions made sense.

  The cell opened with the usual fanfare of shink and thunk. Dy over the aused, and muttered, “Goddamnit.”

  He gently leaned her forward to pull up the cloak, which had bunched up behind her when Broossed her down like a bag of garbage. Slipping the e cloak over her head, he carefully id her bato her final resting pce.

  Disgusted with himself, he gnced down at her boots, then at his own bare feet. Reag under one heel, he pulled off the boot with his free hand. The supple leather slipped off with little effort. “She doesn’t hem anymore,” he said, trying to ease his sce.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. A quiver trembled across his lip, and he wiped a tear from his eye. Fighting the urge to cry, he struggled to uand his profound sense of loss for someone he didn’t know. This was the fourth body he’d seen in the past half hour, yet she was the only one who stirred something inside him.

  Was it because she looked human—like him? Or because she’d been the first perso after arriving? He shrugged. Maybe it was simply that he finally had a moment alone, without distras, to process everything.

  Drained by adrenaline, his body trembled, and tears welled up despite his best efforts. Ret experiences had shown him just hile life was. Uo stop himself, he gnced down at her hands. Someone had already stolen most of her rings, leaving behind pale, naked bands on her fingers. Only remained.

  She was someone’s daughter. She might’ve been someone’s sister, mother, or wife. He stared at the remaining ring ohumb.

  ‘There’s no way I’m taking that ring.’ It would be too much. He didn’t know when, or even if, her friends and family would learn she was gone. A heavy sadness settled over him.

  He bowed his head as he slipped on the cloak, finally letting his emotions spill over. Even if it was only for a minute, even if it was just the tears of a stranger, someone should mourn for her. So, he did. At least one person would know she was gone. Sniffles and sobs filled the cell as he cried.

  After a few minutes, Dyn wiped the tears from his face. He stood and, o a time, slipped on her boots. They were a size too small, but the leather stretched enough to fit.

  ‘Yuck,’ he thought. Shoes without socks just felt wrong. The woman had been wearing socks, but they fit snugly around her smaller feet—no way they’d fit him. He’d just have to deal with gross, sweaty feet.

  He walked past the cell trol sb, where White’s ghastly remains were still dispyed on the andeered pedestal. Begrudgingly, he grabbed the severed hand and used it to call the terror tube o time.

  “Take me to the Ground floor, please.” Dyn noticed pockets ihe cloak—empty. The jewelry thief must have pilfered those too. He found a sheath stitched into the fabric, perfect for holding his new dagger. Stowing his only on, he waited for his ride.

  Ding! The curved doors slid open, inviting him inside. tent with his o-him shoes, cloak, and dagger, he had briefly fotten his disdain for the terror tube—until the wall slid down and stole his calm. With nothing to hold on to, he colpsed onto the disk, yelling and cursing his way to the Ground floor.

  Ding! The terror tube opened, revealing the stranger waiting for him. Dyn scrambled out, still on his stomaot b to stand before esg the dreadful thing.

  “Take your stupid souvenir,” Dyn grumbled, holding out the cwed hand.

  The stranger snatched it from him and, unbelievably, shoved it into his pants pocket. Dyn shuddered at the thought of the disgusting, rotting hand sitting in there.

  “Put the ring on,” the stranger said, notig Dyn’s bare fingers.

  “I didn’t take it.”

  The stranger closed his eyes and mumbled, “ime we’re getting it off the elf.”

  Before Dyn could ask any crifying questions, the stranger walked past him toward the spiral staircase on their right. It ed around the terror tube and asded, but didn’t go down. The straook the first step without slowing. Not wanting to be left behind, Dyn hurried after him. “Why are you helping me?” he asked.

  “I’ve got little time left,” the stranger said. He stopped abruptly, swinging his arm out to shove Dyn against the wall and cover his mouth. The staircase leveled out to allow access to the sed floor before tinuing its spiral upward.

  Dyn stood pio the wall by the stranger’s fingers pressing against his lips. He could hear a pair of elves arguing at the end of the hallway.

  The stranger brought a fio his mask. Dyn nodded, uanding the need for silehe stranger motioned for him to cross first. Dyn made it across without i, and the straook the lead, tinuing their climb to the fifth and final floor.

  A door at the top of the staircase led out to a baly overlooking the pound. The stranger ope and stepped into the night. Dyn followed, walking to the railing and looking down. They were much higher than a typical five-story building, but then he remembered each floor had unusually high ceilings.

  “Over there,” the stranger said, pointing a few hundred yards out. “That’s the main road. Follow it that way.”

  The tall bck fence was the only major obstacle between them and freedom. Dyn noticed a rge ke just past the road. A loud otion caught his attention from the other side of the baly. The sky was still lit by multicolored fires, illuminating the night. He knew what that se looked like—he never wao see it again.

  The stranger pced a boot on the railing and hoisted himself up, bang easily.

  “What are you doing?” Dyn asked, realizing the only or down was through the doors they’d just e through. “Are you going to jump?” His voice was heavy with .

  “We’re going to jump,” the stranger corrected him.

  “What do you mean, we’re going to jump?” Dyn asked, leaning over the railing, half-expeg to see a haystack for their leap of faith.

  “We’ll use the cloaks to glide down safely.”

  Dyn looked down, grabbed the bottom of his cloak, and held it up. “I fly with this?” he asked, incredulous.

  The stranger shook his head. “No, more like falling slowly.” He held out his hand to Dyn.

  “I don’t think I do this,” Dyn said, stepping back from the outstretched hand.

  “You do it,” the stranger said. Something in his tone vinced Dyn to believe him. “I’ll be with you the eime.”

  Dyn took his hand, and the stranger pulled him up onto the railing. Dyn’s arms filed as he fought to keep his bahe straeadied him and said, “Cover your mouth with your other hand.”

  “Why?” Dyn asked, uo take his eyes off the ground.

  “I heard you in the Geolift,” the stranger said. “Surprised everyone didn’t.”

  “Fine,” Dyn muttered, pressing his free hand tightly over his mouth.

  Without even ting, that crazy fucker gripped Dyn’s hand tight and leaped, dragging him along.

  The stranger had been right once again, about the cloaks and Dyn; he screamed into his hand the eime, but it worked. While they weren’t falling quickly, the stranger had failed to mention they’d pick up gliding speed. Then a shimmer appeared around them.

  “Goddamnit,” the stranger cursed. Dyn’s heart skipped a beat as fear hrough him—was something wrong with the cloaks? The world around them distorted, like an old television. A human-sized gash tore open in front of them, and Dyn could’ve sworn he glimpsed the fabric of spad time oher side.

  One moment ter, Dyn’s hand was empty. The stranger had vanished, along with the spatial distortions. Everythiuro normal—except Dyn was now alone, gliding over a hostile pound filled with fantasy creatures, dozens of yards above the ground.

  Dyn tio pick up speed, screaming into his hand.

  ‘He lied to me…’