Dungeon of Night

The narrow passage they had slipped into after escaping the collapsing cavern twisted and turned, winding deeper into the heart of the dungeon. The air felt slightly warmer here, a small relief after the damp chill of the cavern. They'd been on their feet for hours, adrenaline still coursing through their veins from the close call with the gates.

Adira was the first to speak. Her voice, though quiet, carried the weight of someone who had learned to endure the silence. "We should rest for a bit. We've made good progress, but we're not out yet."

Caspian nodded. The weight of the day was beginning to settle on his shoulders, the fatigue from fighting, running, and constantly staying alert making his limbs feel heavier. They found a small alcove to settle into, the walls of the passage just wide enough to give them a bit of breathing room. Caspian sank down against the rough stone, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Adira sat cross-legged, her battle axe resting against the stone beside her. She looked over at him, her green eyes steady and calm. "You're not like most people who get thrown into this dungeon," she said, her voice low but not unkind. "Most get broken pretty quick. It's not just the monsters, it's the loneliness. The endless corridors. The uncertainty. I've seen it take its toll on more than one person."

Caspian didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned back, looking at the rough-hewn ceiling above. "I guess I've got a lot of practice dealing with uncertainty," he said after a pause. His voice was distant, a shadow passing through his eyes. "I've always been on my own. You don't really get used to it, but you adapt. It's either that or you die."

Adira was silent for a moment, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her axe. "That's a hard way to live. But if it keeps you going, then I guess it works."

Caspian didn't respond. His mind was already somewhere else. The dungeon was never far from his thoughts. Every corridor, every shadow, every flicker of movement felt like a constant reminder that they were being hunted. And he wasn't sure how much longer his resolve would hold up.

After a long silence, Adira finally broke the quiet. "We should stay vigilant. This place is dangerous. It knows when we let our guard down."

Caspian nodded, though part of him was already beginning to slip into that space between exhaustion and alertness, where his thoughts slowed and his body felt like it was sinking into the stone beneath him.

Suddenly, his foot brushed against something—a stone that seemed to shift beneath his weight. The ground beneath him gave a slight tremble, and before he could react, a low, grinding sound echoed through the air.

"Wait—" Adira started to warn, but it was too late.

The floor gave way beneath him.

Caspian let out a strangled shout as he fell. The ground dropped out from under him like a trapdoor, and he had no time to brace himself before his body collided with the sharp edges of the hole. His fall seemed endless, a rush of air filling his ears as he plummeted downward.

Then, with a sickening thud, Caspian landed hard on the stone floor below. Pain shot through his body, and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to roll to his feet as quickly as he could. His vision swam for a moment, but he pushed through it, his senses snapping back into focus.

He was in a dark, narrow pit, the walls sheer and high, with no obvious way to climb back up. Above him, he could hear Adira's voice calling down, her words muffled but frantic.

"Caspian! Are you alright?!"

He looked up, his heart hammering in his chest, but he could barely make out her figure above.

"Yeah," he called back, trying to sound more composed than he felt. "I'm fine. Just… not the way I wanted to go."

The stone around him seemed to hum with an eerie energy. His heart was still racing, adrenaline flooding his system. But before he could assess his surroundings, a low growl sounded from the shadows at the far side of the pit.

Caspian's eyes snapped toward the noise, his instincts on high alert.

A pair of glowing yellow eyes met his, and then the creature stepped forward, emerging from the dark recesses of the pit. It was massive—nearly eight feet tall, its muscular form bristling with tension. Its body was a twisted combination of man and bull—half-human, half-beast—with great, curved horns jutting out from its forehead. Its thick, matted fur was stained with old blood, and its breath came in heavy, audible snorts. The Minotaur.

Caspian's grip tightened around his blade, the shock of seeing the beast momentarily blinding him. He took a quick breath, pushing the fear down. It was coming toward him now, its hooves clacking against the stone floor. The growl from its throat was deep, filled with an unsettling promise of death.

"Shit…" Caspian muttered under his breath. He didn't have time to think, only to act.

The Minotaur's massive hands swung down, aiming for him. Caspian leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the creature's crushing blow. The air around him whipped as the beast's fist collided with the stone, sending shards of rock flying.

Caspian didn't wait to see what the Minotaur would do next. He sprinted, using the pit's uneven terrain to his advantage, weaving between jagged rocks and jumping over the large, crumbling debris. The Minotaur followed with terrifying speed, its movements quick and brutal, making the ground shake with each step.

Adira's voice rang out from above, her words growing more desperate. "Caspian, hold on! I'll figure something out! Stay alive!"

But there was no time to reply. Caspian could feel the heat of the Minotaur's breath on his neck as he dodged another swing from its massive arm. He leapt forward, rolling under its claws, and came to his feet with a wild slash of his blade, aiming for the beast's legs. The Minotaur bellowed in pain, but it didn't stop.

Instead, it let out a roar that reverberated through the pit, and with one mighty thrust, it charged at him, slamming its shoulder into the ground with terrifying force. Caspian barely had time to dodge as the Minotaur's horns grazed his side, leaving a gash that burned with searing pain.

He stumbled back, his blood running hot in his veins. The pain was sharp, but the fear of dying in this pit was sharper.

He needed a plan. And he needed it fast.

Adira's voice echoed again, clearer this time. "Caspian! I found a way down! Just—hold on!"

But holding on was becoming harder with every strike, every near miss. He couldn't keep running forever. He needed to strike back.

The Minotaur's next swing came with all the fury of a stampede. Caspian ducked, and in the same motion, slid across the ground, coming up just behind the beast. He swung his blade with all his strength, aiming for the Minotaur's exposed ribs.

The blade struck deep, and the Minotaur roared in fury. But Caspian wasn't done. He pressed forward, his breath ragged, eyes wide, as he pressed the attack.

It wasn't enough to kill the beast—not yet. But it was a start.