“And now we can stream the ensuing incident to all you fine folks out in the world. Thanks to Hanamura Heavy Industries’ generous donations in the form of equipment. We have been leaving signal boosters every 20 or 30 metres or so and therefore, the images and sounds should be coming out crystal clear. Once more, this is Jane Holland with the channel 6 news.”

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!” Ryuji cried out as the boiling acid clung on to his rapidly dissolving skin. Despite the best efforts of the medics nearby.

  Apparently, one of the hens had been the one to heal his shattered jaw earlier. But she wasn’t skilled or powerful enough to heal all that damage at once.

  “And that was, of course, the brave voice of our beneficiary and leader of this intrepid expedition, Ryuji Hanamura. Who seems to have triggered some form of trap by touching what appeared to be a regular doorhandle. Mr. Hanamura apparently did not consider how out of place such an object was down here in a Dungeon that continuously births man-eating monsters. Incidentally, we at channel 6 news managed to secure an interview with one of Mr. Hanamura’s childhood tutors, who swears up and down Mr. Hanamura does not have and has never had a significant developmental delay. Keyword being significant. In other news, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome continues to prove a tragic and debilitating affliction. Moreover, it has come to our attention that the late Mrs. Hanamura had a habit of drinking Polish Vodka at all hours of the day before she had the current heir and it could explain…”

  “DON’T BADMOUTH MY MOTHER!!! AAAAAAAHH!!”

  “And if we take a closer look here, it certainly seems as though some intelligent force is to blame for this rather obvious trap that anyone with more than half a peanut for a brain would have seen coming. Experts on the line have postulated that the Dungeon is, in fact, some manner of hyper-intelligent superbeing in a larval state and that we are basically trying to crack an egg before it hatches. This would make all the monsters we have stumbled across merely parasites or perhaps the equivalent of white blood cells.”

  Ryuji continued to scream all the while. The letters burying deep into him as the walls behind the group grew thicker and thicker in the darkness.

  “Other lines of thinking coming out of Harvard indicate that the Dungeon might be some manner of genetic scrambler and that it is more mechanical than biological. This would make the Dungeon some manner of advanced colonization tool deployed by an advanced alien civilization. And may I just say, thank goodness. Even after everything that’s happened and how big a circus the country has become, we can at least take solace that we remain the first country invading aliens decided to land in. Frankly, I am humbled and overjoyed and if this really is an alien invasion, I would like to take a moment to reassure out new alien overlords that I welcome their arrival and I for one, would love to be the pet of some spacefaring oligarch in the future. This is Jane Holland with the channel 6 news.”

  “Stop filming him woman!” Becca shouted. “Can’t you see he needs help?”

  “I see that he went ahead and touched something that looked man-made in the depths of a monster-infested hole in the ground.” Jane countered. “Perhaps Mr. Hanamura should have gotten checked into a hospital after the gorilla incident. It certainly looks like he suffered some major head trauma to think that was a good idea.”

  Ryuji continued to scream. With no signs of stopping as the acid met bone for the first time. And kept going.

  Then the second phase began, as the floor grew thinner and thinner and thinner. While the small holes I’d left in the ceiling started letting out the buildup of gas with a steady foreboding hiss.

  “What’s going on?” Fergus asked. “Do you hear that?”

  “Yes, I hear it.” John answered at once. “Oh my goodness. We’re being gassed. We’re being freaking gassed in here! Masks!”

  “We didn’t bring any masks! None of the other…”

  “You’re telling me that we came down to a sealed off tunnel with who knows how many passages and none of us thought to bring masks!? We had masks when we first came down on our own!”

  “Yeah, but oxygen was never a problem until now!” Gunther roared back defensively. “And anyhow, it wasn’t our call! The mayor gave that guy permission to bring the cameras so we had to lug around the signal boosters! We couldn’t have brought down everything at once! It would have slowed us down too much!”

  That, of course, was a complete load of nonsense and everybody there knew it. If that had been the problem, then they could have simply brought along more people or failing that, pack animals like mules or donkeys or even draft horses.

  The real reason was that the mayor was an imbecile who’d somehow managed to lose track of army supplies when civilian contractors were supposed to be moving most of the usual equipment to hastily built storehouses.

  Either that or he’d sold them. Colonel Lander and Herr Muller, meaning us, knew about it already, which meant the mayor would be in for a little court appearance as soon as things calmed down. As for this little group not noticing they were gone until now… well. Another, female presenting, Saboteur had unfortunately drunk the quartermaster in charge under the table last night.

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  Oopsie daisy and all that.

  The people in the room all started screaming then. Hurriedly moving to kick the door open.

  Fergus gave it a whack with his booted heel and the wooden boards splintered. Exposing the creature hidden within.

  Unfortunately, Fergus wasn’t able to appreciate the thing, as another of my creatures locked eyes on him. A miniature blend of a Torcher and a Napalmling. It opened its maw now and let out a belch of fire. Even as the living tar on the floor beyond the door grabbed hold of his foot.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!” Fergus added to the choir. Held in place as his helmet melted into his skull.

  The others saw this and rushed to help. Stomping all over the floor and invertedly spreading more and more cracks along its surface. Even as they inhaled more and more of the neurotoxins with every panicked heave.

  I continued making the floor thinner as they ran around like headless chickens.

  Waiting and waiting and waiting until the perfect time came.

  John and Becca managed to drag Fergus out of the trap. Having pulled him free of his boot. Then they emptied their canteens over him. Trying to douse out the flames with fresh water.

  It didn’t work.

  But that was when I decided that the star of the show should finally show their face.

  “Hello big people.” A gnomish head peeked out from the doorway. His jolly eyes finding all the occupants. One by one.

  They settled on John first.

  “You’re the reason she left you know. You promised her you’d always be there for her. For the kids. But then you started to drink. Taking painkillers for your leg. She’s happier now than she’s ever been before. So are the kids. They call the mechanic daddy now. They don’t even remember your face.”

  Then they settled on Becca.

  “He’ll never love you, you know. Nothing you do will ever be enough for daddy. He wanted a cheerleader who married well and gave him grandkids. He thinks you’re going to the bad place and he blames you for his heart problems and his stress. As he should. You’re killing him.”

  Then they settled on Gunther.

  “You’re the reason your parents split up. They always hated being around you. And you knew that. They both started drinking because of what you did. Smoking. Stealing bikes with your so-called friends. Gulping down pills to look cool and getting those tattoos. Getting arrested. Getting in trouble. Your parents both knew you’d never amount to anything, but they resented you proving them so right, so often. If you hadn’t been a minor, if you hadn’t snitched and cut a deal, then you wouldn’t even have become a cop. Your grandfather killed himself when he heard about what you’d done. And both your parents blamed you. It was all your fault and they both knew it. They both know it to this day. Now daddy has another family and mommy is doing charity tours. They’re both much happier now that you’re gone from their lives. But that was always going to be the case, wasn’t it?”

  Then they settled on Jane.

  “You had it coming. You knew what your uncle was. That thing with dressing in the wolf suit was all on you. Then you killed him. You father hates you. Your mother hates you. No one wants you around.”

  Then they settled on Ryuji.

  “You’re the reason your mother left. She always thought you were a disappointment. She always blamed you for being born. You being there was always the worst thing that ever happened to her. And you knew that, of course.”

  The gnome smiled. His red cheeks looking as innocent and cuddly as a child’s doll.

  “You tried your best. But you are a piece of trash. Never being as good as your classmates. Never being as good as your younger sibling. It should have been you in that car crash. Not them. You were never half as good as them. Your father always told you that. So did your mother. And you never proved them wrong. That’s why she left. She could never stand to be near you. Not that I blame her. No one could ever stand being near you. Everyone will leave you behind in the end. Fitting, for trash.”

  Ryuji did not scream. Not anymore. Instead, he stared, awestruck. Before devolving into hysterical sobbing.

  Jane was actually the one to act. Roaring like a mad beast and pushing a soldier aside. Unsheathing his combat knife and flinging it at the gnome’s head.

  But the head popped away. As if vanishing into the darkness. With only his shrill laugh echoing in the halls.

  “Oh come to play! Yay yay yay! Me and all my friends have so many delightful little gifts for you tall folks! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

  “I’ll gut you from head to toe!” Jane Holland from channel 6 news screamed. Rushing past the doorway in a bloodthirsty charge.

  Ryuji was getting up now too. Fury plastered on his features. But then, someone made a single false step. And the ground beneath their feet, gave way.

  “I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna skin his alive and eat his red cheeks! Then I’m gonna scalp him and shove that pointy hat up his….!”

  “Gunther! Gunther listen to me!” John cried out.

  But Gunther would not listen. Instead he raged. Like a caged tigress witnessing her cubs being butchered in front of her. Mouth snapping against the air in a futile display of fury.

  “I’ll kill him!” Gunther swore through clenched teeth. I’ll kill him! I swear it! I swear I’ll kill him! I’ll bleed him dry and watch as the life drains from his eyes!”

  “Yeah right.” John snapped. “You had your chance back there and the reported beat you to it.”

  His hands were shaking too, but he’d at least managed to keep himself in check.

  In contrast, Gunther looked like a zombie. Calling upon strength he didn’t know he had to break free of John’s hold and rush blindly down one of the many darkened corridors next to them.

  It was lovely to see, but it would not make up for kidnapping the child’s family, nor poisoning the girl’s own.

  I allowed Magic to flow into the series of rooms, and delighted in their reaction once the crystals in the closing ceiling began to illuminate their surroundings properly.

  “It’s… a house?” John mumbled.

  “He’s playing with us!” Gunther spat. “This is all some sort of sick fucking game he’s playing with us!”

  Well, that was true enough. But I doubted any of them could come close to comprehending how many layers were in this game of mine.

  Case in point, neither John, nor Gunther, nor any of the other delvers that landed in the other chambers after travelling through the smooth stone slides paid much heed to the empty holes on the otherwise lit up ceilings. Merely thinking of them as leftover, closing apertures.

  That ended when another gnomish head poked out of a doorway attached to their chamber.

  “Hey fellas!” The new gnome called out. “Isn’t it a nice night for a neck injury?”

  “What?” John asked. Even as Gunther struggled to break free once more and lunge at the gnome. All thoughts of his pistol and missing rifle banished from his mind.

  In fact, they were so occupied, that neither of them heard the whistling sound.

  Of two falling bricks.