The Cabin Is Always Hungry

HELLS GRACE

Part 19

Leo Grady stalked toward the porch. He kept his head low, crawling toward the broken front window he was thrown out of earlier, peering inside, and hearing Hodge and Melanie climb the cellar stairs. He stepped in when he was sure no one else was in the cabin’s living area.

Leo was my contingency if Hodge or Melanie’s Resolve didn’t plunge to crimson and they made it out of the dungeon alive. I am not taking any chances tonight. Every piece must count toward the end game. I switched off the illusion around the upper mantle when Leo was halfway toward the yawning cellar door.

Leo stopped in his tracks and looked over.

A double-barreled shotgun sat on the mantle, resting on a mount.

Leo scrunched up his face, bewildered at what he had just seen. I timed it perfectly, of course. His eyes tracked the mantle momentarily when I did the reveal, and I was so proud of myself for doing so. He would have missed it if he just continued toward the cellar door without looking. However, the man paused for several long seconds, hesitating to approach the weapon. I purchased the gun from my Dungeon interface as a “loot drop” a few hours ago before the scenario commenced.

Growing impatient, I spent some Power to trigger [ Strange Noises ].

“Grab it,” I said.

My voice sounded like one of those movies when a ghost or a demon haunted the main character around the house, whispering echoes through the walls, yet it’s very hard to hear clearly. And like the characters from those movies, Leo immediately stiffened, eyes bulging, senses primed with anticipation for danger. Humans were never accustomed to supernatural invasions, something I’m glad I was no longer subjected to. I double-checked in the cellar to see if Hodge and Melanie also heard me, but I specifically directed my powers to Leo, and only Leo. Hodge and Melanie continued exploring the cellar cautiously, unaware of who was above them.

Still, Leo didn’t move.

“Grab it,” I repeated, hovering closer to his right ear (if that helped with his hearing, I wouldn’t know). It was like talking to a stubborn toddler. I only have a minute of usage with this ability, and it’s tough to form more than three or four words at a time.

Get the fucking hint, Leo.

A side-effect of using my abilities was that it always affected a delver, despite the situation. Leo’s Resolve edged toward a golden yellow and continued spiraling down while my powers remained active.

Finally, Leo gently dropped his bat and moved toward the shotgun. He studied the gun and the mount it rested on, probably expecting a trap of some kind. When he grasped the barrel, and no poisonous darts shot at him or an anvil dropped on his head from the ceiling, he drew the gun closer and checked if it was loaded. I was relieved that he knew how to use the damn thing. Two shells were already inside.

[ Delver 1, Leo Grady, picked up a loot item: Double-Barrel Shotgun ]

“Use it,” I said.

Leo searched the room for more shells and found them by the end table’s drawer near the fireplace. There were four extra shells inside. He grabbed all of them and shoved them into his pocket. His gaze darted around the room, trying to get a good glimpse of his guardian angel. When he realized I was no threat to him (I doubted that. My Core still hungered for his essence), he stalked toward the open cellar door.

“Stop,” I whispered. “Wait.”

Fortunately, Leo understood what I meant and waited. Hodge and Melanie were still walking around the cellar, talking in hushed tones. They just found the secret entrance to the tunnel that would eventually lead to an exit in the woods (if they were lucky) or directly into the half-flooded tunnels leading into the Siren’s lair (if they were unlucky). Siren was currently there munching on Mr. Gamble’s half-butchered torso, and she had propped his decapitated head on top of a rock facing her as if they were both having some tea party. Hodge and Melanie decided to venture into the tunnel.

“Move,” I said as [ Strange Voices ] vanished quickly.

Leo took a deep breath as his Resolve steadied. He looked around the room for me again; his facial expression showed great confusion about what had just happened. Enjoy your loot, I wanted to say. And may you use it to fuck them up. ℞�

Leo aimed the shotgun’s barrel forward and climbed down the stairs.

Clay wiped the blood off his face and scraped off the bits and pieces stuck in his hair; one had made it up his left nostril. He watched Chris’s rope—which was still wrapped around the man’s neck—ascend, pulling Chris’s half-torn swaying body back into the room as the trapdoor beneath closed shut. Clay puked on the metal table—yellow bile scattering everywhere—when parts of Chris’s intestines and other viscera still dangling below his ribcage squelched from internal pressure.

It was pretty disgusting, even for good ol’ me, and I’ve been exposed to so much violence within the past three days–enough for several lifetimes–since I became a Death Core.

That should do it, I thought when I sensed his Resolve turned a dull orange. I couldn’t care less about Clay’s Resolve right now. The Resolve I wanted to drop was in the other room.

However, I couldn’t say the same thing for Rebecca.

Goliath gave me a questioning shrug from the living room, asking if that was enough. I shook my head. Rebecca was still in a darker yellow after seeing one of her loved ones brutally killed, jigsaw-style. Even with all that blood and gore, she was still considered “unseasoned” by the System. She was a cop, and she had seen some of the worst shit humans could do to each other, especially when she had a side job of ritually killing young people in the woods with her murder buddies. I didn’t think a fountain of blood and guts would stop her. What I just displayed was a Tuesday for her.

“Shit,” I cursed. “It’s getting there, but we need a little bit more push. Every step counts, right?”

Goliath gave me a reassuring thumbs up and pumped up his chest. I interpreted that as I got this, boss.

I smiled. “You always do.”

Goliath put two fingers up and pointed at the interrogation room. Plan B?

“Yep. Plan B.”

I flew out of the room and out of the boathouse in three seconds and immediately floated next to Jenna’s possessed body. She was still walking in the woods, heading toward the cabin.

“Trouble in Love Island?” Jenna asked with a demonic distorted voice. “My apologies, my liege. This sad girl has an unhealthy obsession with that show, among many others. The humans have created Love is Blind and The Bachelor. The mating rituals of humans have gone down the toilet in the past centuries. Chivalry is dead.”

“Yes, um, I don’t really care about that? I’m kind of surprised you follow human mating rituals.”

“Oh, of course. My apologies. Back in Hell, humans are easy to torture when they have people they love. We cast an illusion, wear their skins, and pretend to be them before we–”

“—hit them with emotional damage?” I finished for her.

Demon Jenna merely smiled. “Exactly. What do you need from me, my liege?”

“So…Chris is dead.”

“Hear, hear,” the demon cheered. “I made a bet with Oldie that she’d choose cock over heart. Oldie owes me a kill.”

“But are you still connected to his body?”

Jenna nodded. “As long as I possessed him before, it is easier to do it again. Even a corpse. It’s like wearing running shoes. You gotta break them before you go running, right?”

“Okay. Well, I need you to do it now. How many bodies have you possessed so far?”

“Just this one. The more bodies I possess, the weaker I get, remember? Is his soul still intact?”

“I already collected his essence.”

“Oh.”

“Would that be a problem?”

“I can still do it. Although, I cannot possess a corpse for more than nine minutes and twenty-four seconds.”

“Why so specific?”

“That’s my tolerance level for wearing a soulless body before it hurts me. In normal circumstances, demons don’t possess bodies without a soul. We are into the…dragging business. But I am in your domain, which means I play by a different set of rules. Doesn’t matter to me either way, although it’s like eating rotten meat compared to a fresh plate.”

“But are you going to be okay?”

Jenna smiled. “Your concern for me warms my black heart, my liege. But I am a demon. Rotting meat is a delicacy in Hell. Nine minutes is enough time to inflict some trauma. Chris is the one who died, right?”

“Yes.”

“Even more perfect. Her emotional center was destroyed already.”

“Follow me then.”

I flew over the cabin and back to the boathouse with the demon’s shadow on my trail.

I got back to Goliath. “The demon’s coming. Plan B’s set.”

Goliath gave me another thumbs up and unlocked the observation room’s door. He quietly climbed down the stairs to the ground floor. It still surprised me that, given his size, he could still sneak around without making a single sound. Downstairs, he walked over to the shelves and pulled his main weapon he stashed behind a locker, a double-sided axe, and slipped back into the shadows next to the grimy windows, out of sight from any delver’s periphery.

On the second floor, Rebecca checked how many bullets she had left (She was down to seven) before she exited the observation room and into the living room. She regained a bit of her composure when she realized that she still had a threat to neutralize. She was very good at compartmentalizing under stress, and I was tempted to lunge at her for being too calm. When she saw that the living room was empty, she quickly moved to the other unlocked door and opened it, finding Clay still cuffed to the metal table. She avoided looking directly at Chris’s body when she entered the room.

“Oh, Becks. I’m so sorry—”

“Be quiet,” Rebecca said firmly, pulling the noose off his head. She still had the keys to the handcuffs she put around Tessa and used them to unlock Clay’s cuffs. Rebecca cupped Clay’s jaw and kissed him even with all the blood. Clay pressed his lips deeper into hers, and Rebecca welcomed the invitation.

Until Clay’s eyes shot open, thinned his lips, and pulled away from her. Rebecca didn’t understand for a second and leaned closer for another kiss, but Clay turned his chin away.

I grinned. Uh-oh. Clay looked down at his wrists, massaging the soreness. He couldn’t look her in the eyes.

Rebecca leaned closer. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” She searched Clay for any injuries, but the man took her hands and pushed them away from his face.

“No, no, I’m…” Clay paused for a moment. “I’m okay. I think I’m okay,” he said, forcing a smile.

It seemed like I had gotten into Clay’s head after all. I wondered if my revelation that she murdered me might have something to do with his sudden cold shoulder. Perhaps the woman he had been sleeping with remained a stranger all this time. How long had they been together? Almost a year? Still, Clay discerned that his only way out would be if Rebecca, the cop with the only gun in the room, helped him. He’s playing nice for now, but I could tell he had already become suspicious of her.

Rebecca also forced a smile. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I got you into this. I’m really sorry.”

I laughed. Apologizing won’t do shit, lady.

“Look, there’s a van in front of the cabin. We’re gonna get out of here,” Rebecca added.

Clay looked up. “That guy is still inside. Do you have a phone? Can’t you call for backup?” Rebecca hesitated, and Clay’s face fell. “You can’t. Or you won’t.”

Rebecca didn’t say anything.

Clay made the mistake of looking at Chris. I could tell that this was his first dead body, and he wasn’t ready for the smell.

“Oh god…” He muttered. “We gotta get out of here, or we’re gonna die! You gotta call for backup, Becks!” He looked at her jacket’s pocket, to the phone’s imprint within. “Give me your phone.”

Rebecca took a giant step back. “Don’t.”

“I’m sure we can explain everything to them. You won’t go to jail! What that guy said over the recorder…those are fake, right?” Clay said, grasping at straws. “Clearly, he’s still alive. He’s the bad guy.”

“I can’t call them. I’m sorry.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because–!” Rebecca huffed in frustration. “We kidnapped someone, okay? And I’m pretty sure they’re looking for us.”

“Us? I didn’t kidnap anyone, Becks!”

“Calm down,” Rebecca said. “I need you to stay calm. He’s going to hear us.”

“How can I stay calm when there’s a freaking maniac on the loose, and I’m stuck here with you?”

“Hey! That is not fair. I choose you, remember? I saved you because I love you.”

Clay held his laugh. “I kinda have the same question as Chris, Becks. I don’t even know who you are anymore. If what Mark Castle said is true, and that you did things to him…who are you?”

“It’s hard for you to understand, Clay. Please believe me when I say I’m doing this for something greater, okay? And if you’re with me, you’ll benefit, too. You promised to keep it secret. You said so yourself.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Clay’s eyes darkened. “Yeah. I did.”

“Then keep thinking of that. Let’s focus on getting out of here first. I’m gonna check ahead. Make sure the coast is clear, okay?” She showed him the gun in her hand to reassure him.

Rebecca walked out of the room and snuck toward the stairs. She peered over the railing, ready to fire her gun if Goliath was standing at the bottom landing. The coast was clear. She returned to the interrogation room.

“I think the bastard left—” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Chris’s body stirred.

“What?” Clay asked, confused. “What is it?”

“I thought...” Rebecca’s brows furrowed. She walked closer to Chris’s body.

“Becks? What’d you see?” Clay asked again.

“I thought I saw…”

“Hey, now. Don’t touch him. He’s dead,” Clay said. “Becks, if the big guy’s not around, we should really go. Now.”

“Just a moment, Clay.” Rebecca waved him off.

Rebecca reached two fingers out toward Chris’s neck. No one could survive what happened to her husband. Perhaps her mind was just playing tricks on her. I could hear Rebecca’s heart thundering against her ribcage. Her pulse throbbed in her temples.

Chris’s golden red eyes shot open.

Rebecca yelped and took a step back. Clay was rooted to where he stood as Chris’s chilling smile slowly crept across his face. The demon playfully lunged at Rebecca, and she shrank further back, slamming against the mirror.

“Hell of a divorce, hon,” Chris teased and clicked his tongue. “The papers would have suffice.”

“What the fuck?” Rebecca shrieked; her Resolve plunged to a red-orange immediately. “What the fuck!”

“Get behind me!” Clay drew Rebecca behind him, putting on a brave face. However, he was also trembling.

Chris chuckled. “Aww, how cute. Look at both of you side by side. The greasy ballsack and the cankerous cunt,” he said as a trickle of blood poured out of his lips.

Clay gagged. “How is he still talking?”

“I don’t think that’s Chris.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Winner winner, chicken fucking dinner!”

“Mark Castle?” Rebecca asked, almost in a whisper.

Chris’s smile dropped. “You cannot compare myself to my master, whore,” he said. “He is absolute. I am but an emissary of your demise, sent here to play with you. Do you want to play another game, Re-be-cca?” The demon drew out her name as if talking to a dim-witted person.

“What have you done to my husband?”

The demon made Chris look pathetic as he pouted dramatically and sighed. “My soul is in Hell, hon. It burns like a motherfucker.” He sniffled a fake tear. “But I’m not worried. No. Not at all. You’ll join me soon. Both of you. He still wonders, Rebecca. He wonders why you didn’t choose him. He had always been loyal to you, and it gutted him on the inside when he heard Clay’s name come out of your foul mouth.”

It was clear that Rebecca was taken aback by the question. “I…”

“What? Cat got your tongue, baby? He’s listening here.” The demon pointed at his left eye. “Right here. Say what you have to say.”

A single tear fell down Rebecca’s cheek. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Which one?”

“Once you know the truth about me, about what I have done for us, our accomplishments, you will never forgive me.”

“Oh, right! How can I forget?” The demon laughed. “You are too much of a coward to tell your husband you kill little boys and girls for money and status.”

“Becks…” Clay begged. “Let’s go. Don’t listen to him. That’s not him anymore!”

Chris winked. “And you too, lover boy. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife. One of the ten great sins. Oh, you handsome adulterer. My friends are going to enjoy ravishing your tight body. And I’m going to have fun fucking your asshole with my ribcage until you taste your own horseshit.”

Gripped by fear, Clay slowly backed out of the room. His eyes darted to the stairs and back to the hanging demon. “Fuck this. This is crazy! I’m leaving!”

Rebecca shrugged him off. “That’s it. I’m done with this. Get the fuck out of my husband!”

“Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it, bitch?”

Rebecca raised her gun and fired two bullets right on his chest and head. Chris went limp, swaying on the rope. The demon let Rebecca think she killed him, but then he let out a boisterous cackle.

“Ah, my favorite. Iron and gunpowder. Reminds me of my birth,” Chris said teasingly. With his intact arm, Chris slid a finger into the bullet hole on his forehead, brought it to his lips, and licked the blood like ketchup. “Hmm. Spicy. Got enough to bring me down, pig?”

Rebecca blotted her tears with the sleeve of her jacket and spent all her bullets into Chris’s torso. I could feel the regret seeping inside her.

Buyer’s remorse? I thought, amused.

Chris’s body slacked and swung. Eyes closed. A sharp, burnt odor from the gunpowder permeated the room. The demon easily slipped out of Chris’s body and flew away.

“Thanks for the assist,” I said to them. They got the job done and freaked out the delvers.

The demon couldn’t speak in its shadow form, but it lingered for a moment to “bow” to me before it flew down the stairs and out through the window. Goliath gave them a thumbs-up and a wave as they flew past him.

Hey, there’s no I in team, I thought.

Rebecca still had her gun raised, pointing at Chris, her body trembling.

Chris was gone. That dawning realization that her husband was really dead pushed her regret into a burrowing, dark-seeded guilt.

Her Resolve dropped to red.

Finally!

I had her where I wanted.

“Get ready,” I told Goliath.

Goliath’s spine and shoulders snapped in attention, and he readied his weapon.

A funny thing about Resolve was that it reflected the delver’s current mental state, ranging in various forms of distress like fatigue, pure terror, grief, negative thoughts, or antipathy. To Rebecca, it translated as shock. A mental break. Her mind wrangled how to process what just happened. She blamed me for killing her husband, but she still dealt the final blow. She technically killed him twice, both directly and indirectly. In her distress, the demonic possession of her husband and her choices that got him there was too much for her brain to handle.

Rebecca gained enough of her senses to follow after Clay and climbed down the stairs. She was still holding the empty gun. When she reached the bottom landing, she leaned against the wall to collect herself.

Clay was already by the front door and found it wouldn’t budge.

“It won’t open!” he exclaimed.

“What? Hold on. I’m coming.” Rebecca stepped away from the wall and exited the stairwell.

Rebecca took the lead again with her gun. I realized she had forgotten that she used all her bullets on the demon upstairs. This should make things easier then.

If Rebecca were of sound mind, she would have noticed the subtle creak of the floorboards right next to the door where Goliath was hiding. She would have seen the puff of icy breath in the shadows and its echo through the fox mask. The little noise his dark trench coat and the grubby black suit made when it stretched as the masked killer raised the axe close to his chest.

But Clay saw. He saw it all as fear rooted him where he stood.

Goliath stepped out of the shadows, axe raised over his head, and closed the distance between him and the delver in two big strides. Rebecca’s eyes bulged when she spotted the glint of the axe’s blade over her shoulder. She raised one arm to pointlessly defend herself while raising the gun with the other. She had no space to maneuver the weapon, and everything happened too fast. The axe split the air, plunging down to—

Rebecca barely let out a strangled cry.

The blade slammed into her right shoulder, shattering bone and muscle. Blood pooled down her shirt and soaked her police jacket. Goliath slapped the gun off her hand, and it flew across the room, fell off the edge of the dock, and disappeared below the dark waters.

Rebecca staggered back and feebly raised a fist. She was still up for a fight, even with an axe in her shoulder. But Goliath easily overtook her. Rebecca fought hard against his solid grip, clawing and punching him from all the training that she could muster by targeting his liver or spleen, trying to break his elbow, or going for his knees. If he were a normal perp, it would have worked. But Goliath had the supernatural on his side. Her punches and kicks barely tickled him, and he sideswiped her attacks like a mother scolding a toddler’s tantrums.

Goliath threw her to the side, and she folded like paper onto the ground. The axe seemed to pin her down onto the floorboards, and she struggled to get up or breathe.

“Clay!” Rebecca cried out. “Help me!”

Goliath approached the other delver slowly and calmly, savoring Clay’s growing panic and terror. He unsheathed his big knife with his other hand, taunting Clay with it. Clay stepped back, hitting the door behind him. It was still locked, and there was no other exit except–

“I’m sorry!” Clay shouted to Rebecca and darted toward the dock’s edge. Before Goliath could get a cheap shot at the man, Clay dove into the water and disappeared from view.

“You bastard!” Rebecca screeched. “You piece of shit! You fucking piece of shit!”

Goliath scratched his head and gave me a small, exasperated sigh.

Underneath the water, Clay swam under the docks, trying to find another way out and following what little light he had down there. He stumbled across a wide gap, swam through, and found himself right under the exterior dock. He swam away from the boathouse and made it to shore. Siren was too far from him as she was still in her lair.

Clay was not my main priority right now, so I flew back inside the boathouse to collect the deputy’s essence.

Putting his game face back on, Goliath walked back to the woman and shoved Rebecca against the wooden column, grabbed her left wrist, and pinned her lower arm against the post with his knife, sinking the blade to the hilt. Rebecca’s screams reverberated across the boathouse. She couldn’t move. Goliath grabbed the axe’s hilt and casually pulled the blade from her shoulder. He paused to let the woman register what he had just done; there was no escaping the inevitable.

“No! You leave me alone!” Rebecca wept. She looked around frantically, and I realized she was trying to find me. “I played your game, Mark! You said you’d let me go!”

I turned to Goliath. “Take out the tape recorder,” I said. “I want to speak to her.”

Goliath nodded, fished the recorder from his coat, and pointed it at Rebecca. He pressed play.

“I played your stupid game,” she repeated sternly.

I let a brief silence linger between us.

Rebecca’s face contorted. “Answer me, damn it!”

“Do you really think I’ll let you go after what you’ve done to me? That I’ll let you all live?” I asked.

“But I–”

“No more excuses, deputy,” I said, my anger swelling. “Make her suffer,” I commanded to Goliath.

Goliath clicked the button off and slipped the recorder back into his pocket. He whirled around, dropped the axe, and straddled Rebecca on her hips, wrapping his enormous left hand around the woman’s skull and pinning her to the wooden column. The giant’s thumb slowly reached for her left eye.

“Wait! Wuh-wuh-wuh-wait! Wait—uughhyaaaa!”

Goliath thrust his thumb into Rebecca’s eye, popping and oozing like a juicy grape, and scooped her eyeball out of her eye socket. Her screams sharpened, tearing her vocal cords as she clawed helplessly against Goliath’s grip. With a jolted twist, Goliath yanked it off the socket, dangling nerves and all, and threw the eye over his shoulder, which ended up rolling underneath a table nearby.

But even with her low Resolve, Rebecca was still quick to act. Without waiting for a beat, she reached for the knife and pulled, ignoring the wet, hot trickle of blood coming down her arm. Rebecca roared as she thrust the knife into the killer’s neck. Goliath gasped, reeled back, and staggered off her. He reached for his neck, prying the blade off his flesh as Rebecca kicked him in the groin, sending him falling on his back.

This didn’t kill Goliath, however. His [ Not Quite Dead ] trait kicked in, stopping the bleeding immediately and allowing himself a chance to pull the knife out of his neck as if it didn’t hurt him at all. He glared at the woman with burning malice. Like all cooldown traits, Goliath couldn’t do anything but wait until he healed, giving the deputy enough time to escape.

Rebecca got up on her wobbly feet. She knew the door was locked, and Clay had used the dock to escape, but the big man was on the way. Luckily, she didn’t know anything about monster traits. Believing she had no other options, Rebecca sprinted toward the grimy windows and jumped out without hesitation. The deputy crashed through, glass slicing her cheeks. She went flying across the stacked logs and hit the gravel hard.

Clay, soaking wet after emerging from the lake, let out a sharp scream as Rebecca almost rolled over his legs and took him down with her. Instead, he jumped over her and continued running toward the trail.

A sharp cry from a distance brought Rebecca to open her one good eye again. She reached back and felt a large piece of glass punctured into her cheek, digging into her mouth. The tip wedged against her molars. She pawed at it, aware of the steady stream of blood coming out of her lips. From afar, she saw two women standing by the tail end of the trail, frozen, staring agape at her as Clay bolted past them.

“Help...me…” She tried to say, but every time she moved her mouth, the glass cut her tongue and lodged between her gums and teeth. She recognized one of the women.

Tessa.

Eliza screamed, pointing at something behind the deputy. Rebecca looked over her shoulder to Goliath, peering through the broken window, his gaze still fixed on her with murderous fury. The wound on his neck was already stitching shut, guided by some unseen arcane force. Rebecca’s face showed it all: her confusion that the masked killer was still alive after she dealt what was supposed to be a killing blow.

Goliath lifted his leg over the gap and climbed out. But his trench coat snagged on the glass, momentarily hindering him.

Rebecca saw her chance, and to my surprise, she still had enough energy in her to push herself up. Cradling half of her bleeding face and eye socket, she started running.

“Run!” Tessa shouted to Eliza and scrambled back up the trail.

But Eliza remained frozen. Once she recognized Goliath, her Resolve immediately plummeted to a deeper red-orange hue. She probably had multiple flashbacks crossing her mind when he was chasing after her earlier in the night.

Tessa stopped when she noticed that her companion wasn’t following her. “Eliza! Come on! Run! Run!” She turned to the woods, where Clay already broke through the shadows and vanished between the trees.

Tessa’s cries finally snapped Eliza out of her trance, and she scampered after her. Eliza was quicker than Tessa, who was still shaking off the effects of whatever drug Hodge gave her, and she rapidly overtook the lead, also heading up the trail.

Thirty feet from the boathouse, Rebecca was getting woozy. Adrenaline was failing her, and the choice of whether to stand and fight or continue fleeing egged her on. Goliath’s coat tore loudly as he yanked it loose, raised both his arms over his head, and threw the axe.

Unfortunately, at this exact second, Rebecca looked over her shoulder to see how much distance she had from the killer. She saw the axe sailing through the air and quickly ducked to avoid it.

Tessa saw it, too. A prompt in my lower right vision showed that a delver had used a boon of [ Swiftness ], marking Tessa in a faint bluish aura only I could see. She sprawled to the ground, knees and elbows scraping against the sharp rocks as the axe’s blade flitted several inches over her head.

But Eliza wasn’t so lucky.

“Oh, shit!” I exclaimed.

Summoning [ Telekinesis ], I quickly grasped the hilt of the axe to stop its momentum, but there was so little I could do to stop the weapon from hitting her with the split second I was given. With the slight movement I made to its trajectory, the axe slammed against her left shoulder blade instead of the back of her head. But Goliath hurled that axe with such immense force that it spun her forward like a rag doll, and she disappeared into the nearby bushes. Her Resolve dropped to red.

Tessa scrambled, screaming her bloody head off. She pushed her legs up, ran like a swarm of bees were chasing her, and bolted off the trail and into the woods. The faint bluish glow around her body dissipated after three seconds.

Goliath marched over to Rebecca and slammed his foot down her lower spine, shattering it. She wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. He ignored the mewling woman on the ground and strode toward the bushes instead. He stood over Eliza, hands on his hips, tilting his head from side to side, deciding what to do next. The woman was still alive—barely—whimpering as she clawed for the axe’s handle behind her back, only she couldn’t quite reach it.

Goliath sighed, turned to me apologetically, and scratched his head. He didn’t mean to hit her; he meant to say. He pointed at the crying woman. Given Eliza’s extensive injuries, she’d bleed to death before dawn if we just left her here. I didn’t drop any loot boxes for magical healing potions or a medical kit, and with the scenario in full swing, I couldn’t end the game prematurely to add healing loot. Stopping the game would mean Hodge and the others survived the dungeon and reaped its rewards, whether I like it or not. As a Core, I am beholden to reward delvers, even to those I fucking despised.

What should I do? Goliath waited for my response.

“Make it quick,” I said, and I looked away. I couldn’t, really. With Many-Eyes always active, I saw everything.

Goliath nodded. He yanked the axe off Eliza’s back and, in one fell swoop, plowed the axe into her skull, splitting it open. She let out a brief gurgled choke and then silence.

[ You have gained 1 essence: Eliza Avery ]

[You have gained 150 crystals]

My mind turned to Danny in an instant. I just orphaned a good and bright kid. Something inside snapped me to attention. I couldn’t focus on non-delvers, much less their personal, irrelevant troubles and crises. A scenario was taking place, and worrying about outsiders was an unnecessary distraction. But I wanted to connect, to reach out to Danny, and to…apologize, maybe? But my Core caged this feeling of…what was that? Guilt? Shame? No, I couldn’t have that! I shouldn’t bother myself with filthy human emotions. I shouldn’t stoop that low of existence. A Death Core didn’t care about who was innocent or wicked. All was equal in my domain. The cultists played by a different rule (murder everyone), while Eliza, Tessa, and Leo were subjected to the standard directive. Eliza made a choice, and she choked. If she had run immediately instead of freezing, she wouldn’t be where she stood at that exact second.

Such is life and the choices made in the dungeon, I thought.

A juvenile dungeon like myself was only worried about more important things.

To grow.

To feed.

To dominate.

Eliza’s essence would help me with those goals.

Yes…yes…

That’s what I should feel. Pleased and Thankful. So, thank you, Eliza. Your essence would be put to good use.

Goliath pulled the axe off Eliza’s skull and sauntered back toward Rebecca, who was desperately crawling away from him. She screamed. She begged. She wept. She spat with anger and venom. Everything was futile, and Goliath took his time toying with her. She made many empty promises of hellish retribution and hellfire that wouldn’t come. She made many empty promises of hellish rewards if he spared her. Astaroth might be powerful, but Earth was my domain, and he couldn’t save her here.

Hellfire, I thought cheekily.

Goliath regarded me for a moment, and he walked back inside the boathouse. Rebecca wasn’t going anywhere with her broken spine. He came out a few seconds later carrying a two-gallon red jerry can reserved for the motorboat engine and poured the gasoline over the deputy. Goliath lit the match.

“Wait!” Rebecca shouted. “Don’t do this! Think of what the High Prince can give you! You as well, Mark! He can bring you back from the dead! He can be a great friend to you. I’ve seen his miracles! I’ve seen his incredible power! You best not deny him.”

She was one of the cult’s most loyal followers, a true believer who accepted the High Prince’s ordained will on Earth. Well, I’m sending her back to Astaroth pre-cooked and a big fuck you.

Goliath flicked the match toward her, and Rebecca burst into a glorious blaze.

The flames licked twice as tall as Goliath; the smell of ignited flesh filled the air along with her death-rattling howls. With her spine broken, Rebecca thrashed violently on the shore a mere fifty feet away from the lake. She burned for a good long minute, her screams eventually fading until only the crackling sound of her smoldering flesh and bone permeated the shore.

She got a prime expressway to Hell. Astaroth better give me five stars for the delivery.

[ You have gained 2 essences: Rebecca Torres ]

[You have gained 300 crystals]

Two essences?

I did not expect that. She was a tough nut to crack, but I welcomed the extra essence and crystals.

Goliath gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Six delvers remained, but my mind was only dedicated to three. The rest were a toss-up whether they made it until dawn.

“Three more to go,” I said. “And the demon is already taking care of Jenna. We’ll have her soon enough.”

Goliath nodded.

“Now, we just need to focus on the board’s king and queen: Coach Hodge and Melanie.”