Coughing and trying to get my hair back in order after being literally thrown by god-tier air conditioning, I looked around. The platform was bigger than I expected, wide enough to probably fit a house. In the center was this massive stone circle, kind of like… an elevator? That was my best guess. The carvings around it made it look important, and hey, I saw light up above earlier. Maybe this thing was my ticket out of here.
"Alright," I muttered, stepping onto the circle, "time to go up, magic elevator. Take me home, Scotty."
…
Nothing happened.
I stood there for a solid minute, shifting my weight around, trying to see if it was like one of those pressure plates in video games. Jumped once. Stomped twice. Nada.
"Really?" I groaned. "You blow me up here like a plastic bag in the wind, but you can't finish the job? Thanks, Aurelia. Great work."
Frustrated, I stepped off the platform and wandered toward the only other option — the bridge. It stretched across into a tunnel, quiet and eerie. My torchlight barely reached the walls, casting elongated shadows that danced like they had a life of their own. My steps echoed, reminding me that I was alone… or at least I hoped I was.
At the end of the bridge, my eyes landed on a massive door. Not just any door — this one was far more elaborate than the first one I'd seen on the way here. Golden outlines framed intricate patterns etched deep into the stone. Between the patterns, a white metal shimmered softly, almost like it was humming. There wasn't a handle, keyhole, or anything resembling a latch.
I hovered my hand over the surface. Nothing.
"Well, obviously this isn't a handle door," I muttered. "I mean, who even designs a door like this? A magician? A sadistic architect? Probably both. Classic."
I stepped closer, examining the carvings. They were strange — a mix of abstract symbols, lines that almost looked like a map, and… what? Tiny humanoid figures, moving across the panels in different directions. I tilted my head. They didn't seem random. Maybe it was some kind of puzzle?
"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered, scratching my head. "First, an elevator that doesn't work. Now a door that's basically screaming 'solve me or die.' Fantastic. Just fantastic."
I circled the door, inspecting every inch, torchlight catching the metallic glint of the white metal. My fingers hovered over one of the carvings — almost involuntarily — and the moment I touched it, a low hum vibrated through the stone.
"Okay, okay… maybe it is magical," I whispered, stepping back. My heart was racing. "Or cursed. Could go either way. This is definitely a 'don't touch' situation. But, you know… I touched it."
The carvings shifted under my fingertips. Lines moved, patterns rearranged themselves, and the tiny figures seemed to walk along paths, tracing routes I hadn't noticed before. A faint light pulsed from the center of the door, casting the entire platform in an eerie glow.
"Alright… deep breaths, Nolan," I muttered. "This is fine. Totally fine. You've faced goblins, you've survived fire, you've—oh wait, you've died like a million times already. But that doesn't count here. Right? Right?!"
The hum grew louder, almost like it was responding to my heartbeat. I felt a pull, not physically, but mentally. The door… wanted something. And apparently, that something was me.
I stepped closer, torch shaking in my hand, and pressed the center of the door where the patterns converged. A surge of energy shot up my arm. My stomach dropped.
And then, the door began to shift. Slowly, at first. The panels of white metal moved aside, golden symbols glowing brighter. A soft, hollow voice echoed through the tunnel:
"Only the worthy shall enter. Solve what lies within, or be lost to the stone."
I staggered back. "Oh, fantastic. Another puzzle. Because why would I get a straight path to freedom? That would be too easy. No, no, I have to touch every creepy things, to figure out some magical puzzle, and possibly die in the process. Great. Awesome."
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward once more. The door widened just enough for me to enter. Torch in hand, I crossed the threshold, my stomach tightening. The air inside was cooler, tinged with dust and something else — the faint smell of… decay? Not fresh, but old. Ancient.
And then I saw it.
A massive carving took up the center of the room. Not just a carving — a three-dimensional relief of a labyrinth, walls twisting and turning as if alive. My eyes widened.
"Oh… oh no. No, no, no."
I was staring down a maze that could have swallowed me whole. Paths shifted, walls bent in impossible angles, and at the very center… I could feel it. Something waiting. Something alive. Something that wanted me dead.
"Yep," I muttered, backing up slowly, "definitely not my day. Definitely not. And probably the start of my week-long death spiral. Fantastic. Just… fantastic."
I stepped forward, palm pressed fully against the labyrinth, and the world seemed to fold in on itself. The walls stretched upward and inward, twisting like they were alive, breathing around me. My torch flickered violently, throwing shadows that darted ahead of me and disappeared before I could even focus on them.
The air was cooler here, damp with the scent of ancient stone and faint metal, like iron long dried. Each step echoed ominously, reminding me that nothing in this place was ordinary. The labyrinth wasn't just carved into the floor — it was alive. Every ridge, every twist in the stone seemed to pulse with intent.
I swallowed hard. "Okay, Nolan. Not dying today… probably. Maybe. Possibly. Don't panic too early, that's rookie behavior."
The first skeleton appeared almost immediately, slinking from a side corridor. Hollow eyes glowed faintly, bones rattling as it moved, and it locked onto me instantly. I bolted. Not gracefully, more like panicked flailing. The walls seemed to shift subtly as I ran, forcing me to adjust my path with every step. I slammed into corners, nearly tripped over raised stones, and cursed at the maze with every fiber of my being.
"Seriously?! You move now? I didn't sign up for running from walls!"
I dodged the first skeleton's swipe, rolling awkwardly under a narrow arch, my ribs aching from the impact with the wall. Another skeleton emerged from behind a pillar. I grabbed a loose rock and hurled it, hitting it squarely in the skull. The clatter echoed like a gunshot in the cavernous space.
Still, more kept coming. The maze was designed to hunt. I could hear the hollow clattering of bones all around me.
"Okay, okay," I muttered, breathing hard, "think. Plan. Strategy. You have rocks. You have your wits. And you have… well, fear. Lots of fear. Use that too."
I darted down a narrow corridor, walls pressing close. My torchlight revealed cracks in the stone — tiny imperfections I could use to my advantage. I pushed myself to memorize them: small gaps where I could squeeze through, places the skeletons couldn't reach quickly. Every step was a calculation, every turn a gamble.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. I lured skeletons into collapsing corridors, dodged swinging stone panels, and even managed to trap a few behind dead ends. My hands ached from gripping the torch and the edge of walls. My chest burned, ribs scraped raw from impacts, and sweat ran into my eyes, stinging.
Yet no matter what I tried, no matter how carefully I planned, the labyrinth responded. Walls shifted, paths I memorized disappeared, and skeletons always seemed one step ahead. Every miscalculation meant I had to improvise or risk death.
I began noticing patterns. Skeletons tended to patrol in waves, walls shifted in rhythm, and traps repeated their timing. Each observation gave me a fraction of hope, a tiny edge in a place designed to erase all hope.
An hour — maybe a couple hours? — I lost track of time. Every escape felt like progress, every small victory a miracle. I was exhausted, bleeding from scrapes and bruises, but I adapted. The labyrinth demanded it, forced it into me.
Then I saw it — a pit lined with spikes at the base of a crumbling corridor. I tried to time a jump perfectly, calculating the wall shift, skeleton positions, and my own stamina. My heart pounded. My hands shook.
I ran, leaped… and misjudged by a fraction. My foot clipped the edge of the pit. Time slowed. The spikes rushed up to meet me. I screamed. My body slammed down. Pain exploded through me as darkness claimed me.
And that was it.
Death reclaimed me once again for the second time.