Chương 35: Mountain of Corpses

Lloyd muttered nervously under his breath, feeling the sticky green slime continue to slowly drip down his jacket, leaving fresh dark streaks on the fabric. The cold of this place chilled him to the bone, and every breath came with difficulty because of the thick, suffocating stench of decay hanging in the air like a dense cloud. — Well, all I need to do is get around this mountain of corpses. He said it more to hear his own voice amid the crushing silence than for any other reason.

Lloyd began making his way around the mound, unable to keep himself from looking at the bodies — or rather, what little remained of them. The skin on many of the corpses had long since rotted away, exposing greyish bones, some covered in a thin film of mold, and a few skulls were turned directly toward him with empty sockets, as if watching him with eyes they no longer had.

The light from the green crystals flickering somewhere high on the walls cast long, trembling shadows across this rotting mass, and it almost seemed as if the mountain itself were breathing, faintly rising and falling in time with the wavering light.

"I wonder if they were ever even human" Its features had long since worn away, blended with the neighboring corpses into a single, indistinguishable mass of flesh. Lloyd couldn't know the answer to that question, and he didn't think he ever would. For some reason that thought struck him as especially unsettling — as if the very uncertainty of who these people had been made their deaths feel even more meaningless, more hollow.

Something crunched underfoot — small bones, maybe, or hardened clumps of that same green slime — and Lloyd tried not to think too hard about exactly what he was crushing with every step. And so, mission accomplished: he made it around the mountain of corpses without much trouble and continued onward, trying not to breathe too deeply because of the heavy, suffocating stench of decay that, here, right next to the mound, had become almost unbearable, clogging his throat and making his eyes water.

But suddenly, after just a couple of steps, a sound rang out — the clanking of chains, heavy and metallic, cutting through the silence of the tunnel so sharply that Lloyd flinched all over.

"What the hell is that?" His heart pounded faster, the thuds echoing dully in his temples, and he started looking around, unable to tell where the sound was coming from. But then he tilted his head up, and his gaze landed on something he hadn't expected to see at all. From above, a gate began to descend — an enormous, massive grate, dropping down simultaneously at the front of the tunnel and behind him.

They were just as colossal as the tunnel itself; rusted bars as thick as a man's arm slowly slid downward on chains whose clanking bounced off the walls with a deafening roar, amplified again and again by the echo in this colossal space. Dust and small fragments of stone rained down along with the gates, settling on Lloyd's shoulders in a thin grey layer. And then, with a dull, heavy thud, they hit the floor, making the entire tunnel shudder like some living creature.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Despite their size, the gates sat so tightly against each other that Lloyd couldn't squeeze through the bars — they had sealed off his path completely. He could neither move forward nor go back. The trap had snapped shut on both sides at once, and now he stood in this enclosed space, alone with a mountain of dead bodies. — What the hell? What kind of bullshit is this? Why lock me in here?

Panic rose somewhere in his chest, tightening into an uncomfortable knot as he examined the gate in front of him closely, running a hand over the cold, rusted metal. Beneath his fingers he felt a rough, cracked surface coated in a thin layer of that same omnipresent green slime.

"Who could have done this? Does the dungeon itself have some kind of will of its own? But even if it does, why would it do this?" His thoughts tangled together, piling on top of each other faster than he could process them. He turned around — there stood an identical rusted, solid gate, cutting off his last route of retreat, just as unyielding and indifferent to his situation as the first.

"Someone clearly doesn't want me getting out of here" A chill ran down his spine at the idea, making him tense up involuntarily as he shifted his gaze back and forth between the front gate and the back one, trying to find some way out of this, some crack, some hint of a weak point in the metal.

"As far as I know, dungeons are supposed to throw trials at you, not outright kill you. Do I need to do something to get these open?" He clenched his fists without meaning to, feeling his nails dig into his palms even through his gloves. He glanced back at the mountain of corpses and scratched his chin, feeling the sticky slime on his fingers chill his skin unpleasantly, leaving a wet green smear on his face.

"This looks exactly like a boss are—" He never got to finish the thought. Somewhere deep within the mountain of corpses, movement stirred — a quiet, wet rustling, as if something massive had shifted inside that rotting mass, disturbing bodies that had lain frozen in place for decades. At that sound the hair on the back of Lloyd's neck stood up on its own, before his mind even had time to register the danger.

He immediately stepped back a couple of paces, feeling cold sweat run down his spine, mixing with the slime that had already dried there. He gripped his knife tightly, bracing for the worst, though deep down he understood that no amount of bracing would save him from whatever was hidden inside that mountain. He waited.

Waited for some monster to climb out of the pile of corpses, something he couldn't even begin to imagine — something so monstrous that the dungeon itself had deemed it necessary to lock him in here together with the creature, cutting off every possible route of escape. Or maybe it would turn out to be the Boss of this place itself, the one whose presence had weighed on him so heavily these past few hours, turning every step into a trial pushed right to the edge of what he could bear.

But it didn't matter who emerged from there. Lloyd had no choice but to fight whatever appeared, trapped in this narrow stone cage with no way out except victory or death. Somewhere deep within the mountain of corpses, something stirred again, stronger this time — a wet, sliding sound, as if dozens of rotting bodies were shifting all at once, making way for something to rise up from below. The mound itself began to tremble slowly, shedding small fragments of bone and clumps of slime all around it.

Lloyd took the knife in both hands, gripping it so hard his knuckles went white, his breathing growing ragged and quick. — Today is definitely not my day... His voice betrayed him with a tremble as he watched that slowly writhing mass of decay, ready to split open at any moment.