Robert was burning up. His eyes were blinded, he could not see, his throat was throaty thirstily dry, sand blew in his eyes and all of the rubbing in the world did not make the itch go away. He had drank before going to the cigarette kiosk, it had been warm in Spain already, but this was on another level.

Robert was confused. Where is the bus? The touristas? The atrachiónas? atracciónos? atr–

How do you even spanish

...

Slowly the burn in his eyes went away, and he could stare at the sky. Once again he noted the two suns, the only thing he saw before he reflexively closed his eyes. He was surrounded by a sand wall three metres tall, fortified by even more sand. Which Robert thought was cool and why hadn't he heard of this tourist attraction before? Just, he didn't know how he got inside or where the exit is. Maybe he got a sunburn from how hot it is?

Robert checked his mobile phone. No signal. No surprise. There's just something with Europe and bad signal. 

He walked up to the wall and tried punching it. It felt as hard as stone, not giving way like he thought it would. A walk around the wall also told him that there was no way out, unless he missed either a mechanism or a basement door or something like that. The wall spanned too large of an area to try and knock on every stone, in hopes of some hidden mechanism like in the movies. If he had taken a tour guide with him, Robert figured, he'd not only hear something interesting about this place, but also learn how to get to the next attraction. Because, while all the sand and walls were nice and stury, in the end, it was just sand.

The sand — as if replying to his thoughts — erupted. A multitude of cascading sand Robert did not think possible formed a complex maze of moving sand around him. On the opposite end of where he stood, sand gushed up, and on the tide stood a statue made out of white stone.

The statue, Robert realized to his fright, was moving. It was riding on the sand waves, jumping between different ones like turning right in a street, and soon it was upon him. Robert jumped away to the right, which was a mistake, as he now too is caught in the streets of sand.

"... stops upon death or dismemberment. Let the Battle begin. Bets are now closed. The odds are 3:1 for the lifeform."

At first, Robert laughed. Then, Robert realized that the speaker had been serious.