The Warden lay on the wet and hard cavern floor. A tied mess of flesh and wheezing through a dirty gag. Blood slicked his swollen and chewed face, streaking down amongst his plaid, sweaty face. Sable’s wires held him tight in a curled position.

  The group surrounded him. They were silent as they stared at the man who had caused so much torment in the mostly empty cavern. A knife from the Grimlace collection lay a few feet from the Warden, dotted with the drug. Mitch kicked it away.

  Varak shifted on her many legs, watching with her brood on her back. She tore another Abyssal bug in half, and tossed it into her mouth. She crunched on the bug like a snack and passed the remaining bug to her brood to nibble on. “Time for pickled egg,” she murmured gleefully.

  Mook skittered closer, heavy claws clutching an empty jar. The lid was still tight. To the untrained eye, it looked like just another black glass jar. They all knew it served far more nefarious purposes.

  “He deserves worse, you know,” Hathgar grumbled with his arms crossed. His face was a simmering mask of anger. “Just like that?”

  Sable stood stiffly, watching the Warden without pity. “Already got the answers we need,” she said. “We’re not the Abyss. We’re not here to mindlessly torment.”

  Patty was less composed. Her green hair clung to her face from sweat. She stood above the Warden with fists clenched around her jar, breathing uneven. “This bastard. Broke us. Tortured us. Watching us, smiling and like it was fun.” Her voice cracked. “Kill him, he doesn’t deserve another second.”

  Leonard, of course, was grinning. He carried his own jar by tucking it under his broken but healed arm. “Shall we? I mean really, Mitch, can we drag it out just a bit? For science.” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I’d love to deliver some light justice to this man. For a few hours. Or days. Yes, days preferably.”

  Mitch watched the Warden, who stirred and coughed raggedly past his gag.

  Rex stood at Mitch’s side as a shadowy mass of menace. He too, watched the Warden curiously.

  Stepping forward, boots splashing in the filth pooling around the Warden’s body, he yanked his head up to meet his eyes. The Warden groaned out a gurgle.

  He ripped the gag from the Warden’s mouth. The Warden sputtered, spitting blood and saliva onto the ground.

  “Anything to say?” Mitch asked.

  The Warden coughed again, his cracked lips trembling as he forced out a word. “Please…”

  “Please?” Leonard interrupted. “This is what you say? I mean, really?”

  “Leonard, shut up. We’re not dragging this out. He doesn’t deserve it.” Patty scolded him.

  Hathgar stepped forward, iron arm flexing as if preparing to strike the man down. “Aye, he’s not worth the effort. But I say let him crawl like the worm he is.”

  Sable’s voice sliced through. “Stop,” she said, glaring at the group. “Enough. I know I’d like to know how we eventually get out of here, and maybe he can tell us. If not, then you can have your fun, Leonard.”

  Varak, unbothered by the tension, perked up. “I know! Up. Is easy. Up air…easy to find.” She glanced back at her brook, who nodded in unison, small bodies chittering in agreement.

  “She is right, you know,” Mook added. “I can practically smell where the Abyss is, and where it is not.”

  Mitch turned back to the Warden. “That settles that.”

  The Warden’s head lolled forward. His breath rattled like a broken machine, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke again.

  “Please…” He coughed out. “You don’t understand. The Abyss…it calls. I had no choice!”

  Mitch’s grip tightened on the man’s collar. “No choice?” His voice was cold. “Everyone’s got a choice. You made yours. You tortured people. Used them. For what? Scraps of power from the Abyss?”

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  The Warden’s cracked lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You think you’re different, Traveler? That debt–look at it! How heavy it must feel. What did you do? What terrible thing tied you to the Abyss?”

  Mitch’s eyes burned from the man’s words. It gave the Warden strength to continue. “Think you’re righteous? You’re just a bigger piece of this than I am. The Abyss needs up. Tools like me and you. You mock yourself if you think you’re all that different.”

  Hathgar stepped forward, his hand twisting into an iron claw. His voice was rough. “Honor,” he spat. “That’s what you don’t get, Warden. A man doesn’t turn on people. Honorable people won’t crawl for scraps while stepping on others. Less than filth, is what ye’ are.”

  Mook silently stepped closer with the jar in his hand. The seal glimmered as if sensing it was about to be used. “It’s ready, Mitch.”

  The Warden’s weak smile faltered as he glanced at the jar. His eyes widened in fear. “No…no!” He struggled against the wires binding him. Too weak to break free. “Don’t–don’t do this! Please! The Abyss–it will take me, I–”

  “You think you’re going down to the Abyss?” Mitch’s voice interrupted him.

  Mook unsealed the jar behind him.

  The Warden’s face twisted in pure terror. “No, no! Not the jar!”

  Galadrith spoke for the first time. “Do not linger on his words. You are more than this vile creature. We do not kill for scraps of power, for our purpose is greater than he can possibly imagine. Growth comes from leaving the taunts of the weak. He is already lost.”

  “No,” Mitch told the Warden. “You’re staying with us. Who knows for how long or what for.”

  Mitch’s arm moved in a clean, brutal arc. Galadrith sliced through flesh, bone, and sinew effortlessly. The Warden’s head hit the ground with a hollow thud, his mouth frozen mid-scream. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc out of the neck stump as the man’s body collapsed before them.

  The Warden was finally dead. The souls within his core thrummed in pleasure. Why? Mitch couldn’t say. Many of them were prisoners he had killed.

  Better than the Abyss. I guess they realize that now.

  A cold sense of triumph filled Mitch. He and Sable had defeated the Warden in his vile game, and by extension, had claimed a victory over the Abyss.

  His hand extended toward the headless corpse.

  He tugged out the soul, just as the Warden had pulled the souls from him before. He couldn’t save them all, not from the ring, not from the battle with the prisoners. It still filled him with a feeling of power to claim the man’s essence.

  It sputtered violently out of the Warden’s body, a dark malformed red that twisted in fury as it emerged in its tendril.

  Mitch let the Warden’s soul hang in the air for the group to see for a heartbeat.

  “Trap. Pickle egg. Marinate. Mmmm,” Varak said as she crunched on a bug. Her children danced.

  Mook unfastened the jar, and Mitch directed it towards it. As soon as the soul entered the glass enclosure, Mook snapped the jar shut. The Warden’s soul was trapped within.

  “Filthy, eh?” Hathgar muttered, glaring at the jar as if it might break. “Least it’s contained. What’re ye going to do with it?”

  “Think on it. I’m sure Mook or someone else will find a use,” Mitch replied.

  The cavern fell silent, save for the faint hum of the sealed jar and the distant drip of water. Mitch wiped Galadrith with a filthy scrap of cloth. It had been recovered from the now dead prisoner’s clothing.

  “Well,” Hathgar said, voice gruff and surprisingly light. “That was fun, honestly. Now, what about this bloody pull yer feelin’, lad?”

  Mitch straightened. The Warden was dealt with. He felt strange at the man’s death. Triumphant. But also lacking. He had grown exponentially in power from the man’s cruel games. He had saved Hathgar, defeated enemies, grown Rex, and even begotten Galadrith. Not to mention the others.

  He needed a new enemy. The Abyss wasn’t going to make it easy on him. He was sure of that.

  “We move,” he said, his voice resolute. “The Abyss isn’t done with us yet.”

  Sable stepped to his side. “None of us are done yet.”

  The group walked toward the fire. It was time to plan. Rex padded alongside Mitch. He swore the Shadowshroud was smiling at him.

  Behind them, the Warden’s severed head stared blankly into the voice. Mitch did not want to consume the man's flesh for his own gain.

  Mook carried the jar in his hands carefully, staring at the red soul within.

  “Uh…hello?” Leonard asked as he plopped himself down and shook his jar at Mitch. “A little help, please?”

  “Seriously, I actually agree with Leonard on this,” Patty said as she plonked herself next to the gnome. “I would like my soul in my body now.”

  Mitch smiled and walked towards them.