I’m John fields. I used to play rugby in high school, but I was never quite good enough to play on the first team. They benched me most of the time, but I still enjoyed playing with my friends. Speaking of friends, I had a group of them back then, but they were mostly degenerates who didn't care about school or anything else. I suppose they were partly responsible for me not giving my all in anything.
I am an only child, and I always wished I had siblings to share my life with. But instead, I got Juicy, my dog. She’s as sweet as a dog can be.
My parents live far away from me, and we don't have the best relationship. I think it all stems from my teenage years when I was quite rowdy and rebellious. I remember one incident in particular when I got caught shoplifting with my friends. My parents were called to the store, and when they arrived, they were absolutely mortified. They didn't talk to me for weeks after that and still bring it up whenever we speak. I think they see me as a disappointment and a failure, and it's hard for me to shake that feeling.
I wke up in this place a week ago. I fought a beast in the darkness. I killed a lizard that could camouflage itself to its surroundings. I killed a crystal that could manipulate its surroundings. I killed a fire-breathing gargoyle-like creature. I also killed a squid underwater.
John looked away from the message he had etched on the ground. He couldn’t help once again paying attention to the taking in the walls covered in luminous moss, the flickering bonfire, and especially the strange murals on the wall. The swirling black hole in the center of the murals seemed alive, almost as if it was eating its surroundings. John couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over him. It was as if the darkness was alive, pulsating and consuming everything in its path. The colors around the hole were muted and lifeless, almost as if they were being drained of their vitality. The edges of the hole were jagged, and it seemed to be expanding as if it couldn't be contained by the walls. The more John looked at it, the more he felt as if he was being pulled toward it as if it was calling out to him. The hole seemed to be a portal to another dimension. No luminous moss existed anywhere near the mural. It seemed to consume the very light they radiated.
Shaking his head, John turned his attention back to the message he had etched on the floor. Who knew the lizard's fang was sharp enough to cut rock like a knife going through butter? It was a childish act, he knew, but it made him feel better somehow. Like he was leaving his mark on this strange place.
John picked himself up and started walking toward the bonfire where a makeshift grill made of stone spikes was cooking squid tentacles he had procured from the squid monster he had fought in the last trial. He hadn’t acted primal but detoxified the squid with a detoxify potion he had wished for from the empty potion bottle. Magic spells had their place in his assemble, but really, the potion bottle, John found was a priceless artifact.
And the squid was indeed toxic. He had watched with Goosebumps on his arms as a toxic mucus had peeled away from the squid when he poured the detoxify potion over it, revealing the delicious meat beneath.
As he waited for the tentacle to cook, John thought about the safe zones he had encountered before. They all seemed the same, and if he hadn't seen them destroyed, he would have believed they were all the same. The thought made him wonder if there was any point to his journey and if everything he encountered was just going to be more of the same.
The smell of charred meat pulled John out of his reverie. Shaking his head, John picked one of the skewered tentacles.
Its aroma was both savory and pungent, with a hint of sea salt and earthy undertones. As he took a bite, he could feel the tender flesh of the tentacle melt in his mouth, releasing a burst of flavor. The taste was slightly sweet and tangy, with a smoky aftertaste that lingered on his tongue. Despite its origin from a monstrous creature, the tentacle tasted surprisingly delicious, and John savored every bite, feeling grateful for any sustenance he could find in this perilous underground world.
As John stood up from the bonfire, he knew he was ready to move on. He had been in this underground safe zone for weeks, and while he had managed to survive and even thrive, he could feel himself becoming restless. The message he had written on the wall was a way of marking his presence in this place, but it was also a sign to himself that it was time to move forward.
With a final glance around at his surroundings, John began to make his way toward the altar. It was out of sight, but he knew it was close at hand. As he walked, he could feel the damp walls of the tunnel pressing in around him, the luminous moss casting eerie shadows on the ground.
Finally, he turned a corner and there it was - the altar. It was made entirely of squid tentacles, eight of them arranged in a circular pattern. Each tentacle was at least six feet long, thick, and sinuous like a snake. The tentacles were still moist, and as John approached, he could smell the oceanic scent of seaweed and salt.
Despite the strange and unsettling nature of the altar, John felt a sense of reverence as he approached it. He had learned enough about the trials to know that this was more than just a simple monument - it was a place of power, a place where he could harness the magic of the squid.
As he reached out to touch the altar, he felt a tingle run through his fingertips.
John looks at the three artifacts on the altar. The first artifact is a mask, made from a combination of squid and fish scales. It is about the size of his face, with eye holes that resemble the shape of fish eyes. The second artifact is a small, leather-bound book with a silver clasp. It is about the size of his palm and has strange symbols etched onto the cover. The third artifact is a small, round pill that is a deep shade of blue.
The voice in John's head speaks again, explaining the uses of each artifact. The mask can protect him from poisonous gas and allow him to see in the dark. The book can teach him the spell mage hand, which he knew could be quite useful in various situations. And the pill can improve his digestive enzymes allowing him to eat anything from plants to soft rocks; in the caves where there was nothing to eat other than moss, rocks, and monsters, it would be the most useful artifact to take.
John considers his options, thinking about the dangers he may face on his journey. The mask seems like a wise choice, as he had encountered toxic gases before. The spell could also prove useful, but in his heart, he knew if there was one thing he needed most at this point, it was the pill. He could continue wishing for various detoxifying potions and the like to eat the monster meat, but that would be wasting opportunities to improve his strength.
The strength increase by the permanent strengthening potion he had drank in the last safe zone might have been meager, but where the quality of the potion had lacked he could make it up with the quantity. With the cave system being endless –if the map he had found on the first chamber was assumed to be correct— who knows, these meager improvements in strength might become significant in time and become the difference between his life and death.
The pill was small and round, with a glossy blue coating. John picked it up and popped it into his mouth, feeling the smooth surface dissolve on his tongue. The taste was a mixture of sour and bitter, but not unpleasant.
As he swallowed the pill, a warm sensation spread throughout his body. He felt his digestive enzymes working overtime, breaking down food at an accelerated rate. His stomach growled, craving more food.
John looked around for anything he could eat. The voice had told him he could eat even soft rocks, but he didn’t act so courageous on his first try.
He reached out and plucked a small clump of the moss, inspecting it in his hand. The moss was soft and delicate to the touch, emitting a soft glow that illuminated his hand.
Without hesitation, John brought the clump of moss to his mouth and took a bite. The texture was slightly slimy, but not unpleasant, and the taste was a bit earthy, with a subtle sweetness that lingered on his tongue. As he chewed, he felt a wave of energy wash over him, invigorating his body and mind.
But John also started moving away from the altar. It would be descending soon, bringing havoc to the serenity of the chamber.
He took another bite of the moss on the run, relishing in the rejuvenating properties of the moss. It warmed his stomach, making him hot unlike its drained water, which had acted as a panacea at most. He felt the regenerative properties of the moss working on his stiff body, improving deep aches that he had almost become accustomed to, improving his blood flow and muscle activation. He didn’t know how tired his muscles were until the warmth from the moss refreshed them. He felt like a revived man.
With his improved digestion, John realized that he could survive on almost anything in this world. He feels a sense of relief, knowing that he will never go hungry again.
As John ran, he could feel the heat intensifying beneath his feet. The ground grew hotter, and he could hear the rumbling of lava beneath him. He quickened his pace, his heart pounding in his chest as he glanced over his shoulder at the altar descending behind him. The smoke started rising, creating fumes that made it difficult for John to breathe.
He wondered if he should have picked the mask. Perhaps, it was implying something. But he couldn’t go back and big through the hard rock and ask the altar for an exchange, now, could he?
Suddenly, the ground beneath John's feet gave way, and he tumbled into a dark chamber below. As he struggled to get to his feet, he could feel the heat of the magma seeping through the cracks in the ground. He knew he needed to get out of there quickly if he wanted to survive.
John could barely see in the darkness, but he stumbled forward, feeling his way along the walls. Suddenly, a bright light appeared in the distance, and he knew he had found his way out. As he approached the light, he saw that it was coming from a tunnel that led to the next trial.
He ran toward the tunnel, feeling the heat of the magma on his heels. He could hear the sound of the lava hissing and bubbling behind him, but he didn't dare look back. Finally, he made it to the tunnel, and he stumbled inside, collapsing against the wall in exhaustion.
Catching his breath, John looked back behind the light barrier at the chamber he had just escaped from. The magma had covered the ground completely, and he knew that he had barely made it out in time. He also knew that he couldn't rest for long. The next trial was waiting for him, and he had to keep moving if he wanted to make it out alive.
