Hi there everyone!

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Today I submit my first installment in the @Freewritehouse March Madness event, where their goal is for the community to write an installment every day - and hopefully by the end of the month we'll have a book written! Feel free to check it out, there have been some great submissions already!

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I know I'm starting this several days too late, but according to them it's never too late to try! Hopefully I can crack 50,000 words by the end of the month!

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Disclaimer

THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND HORROR THEMES.
PLEASE BE WARNED THE IMAGERY MAY SHOCK YOU.
BUT THAT'S WHAT GOOD HORROR DOES.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

(It will not be marked NSFW as there is no real picture depictions, just text. If you want it marked NSFW please let me know)

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Chapter 1 - The Beast

source

When you die, how will you know you are dead? Perhaps the mistake was thinking you were ever alive in the first place.

~Maelano The Corrupted Philosopher.

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Word count: 1999

• 1.1

"I think it's asleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It hasn't moved in hours. I think I hear it breathing. It... is slower than normal and deep."

"That THING has been awake for days. Th-those... those others. The beast doesn’t rest, all it does is EAT. It feasted-"

"Enough of that!"

The plated man grabbed the smaller one by the shoulder "We're getting out of here. You hear me?" His voice didn't go above a whisper.

"We wait only a few minutes longer, then we move. Understand?”

The teenager's face was bone white aside from the blood that stained it. His eyes were bloodshot and his features worn from sleep deprivation. Neither of them had rested while the beast celebrated its horrific victory. He dared a glance in the direction of the creature and saw its silhouette through the smoke.

Its smoky form rose and fell with deep gravely breaths.

"What about the others?" His voice contained a shred of hope.

"They're gone, lad. Nothing we can do for them."

After spending a day trapped in darkness the creature lit a great pyre in the far corner of the room. For the first time the two survivors saw the charnel house they were stuck in. The darkness hiding a butcher's lair if ever there were one - taken from the minds of the most deranged and unhinged psychopaths.

They were in an underground chamber, one of many that made up the Labyrinth. It was large with a ceiling about 11 ft high and a floor plan spanning about 700 square ft. Tapestries of flayed human flesh covered the walls, nailed there by crude metal stakes. Effigies of waxy gore worked into humanoid shapes were displayed on pikes, as though the creature tried making art from their entrails. Blood covered everything. The walls, the floor. Nothing escaped the crimson stains which varied from fresh and wet to rusty and dry.

'This must be its home' the plated man thought.

Above the gruesome tapestry hung a single shelf that spanned all four walls. It took him a moment to register what he was seeing – were they white rocks? Wait. No. Skulls. Hundreds of human skulls were neatly arranged in rows of trophies.

He swallowed fixated on the gruesome visage. Pointlessly he tried to divert his attention to anything, but there was no escaping the carnage. That skin probably belonged to whoever's skulls were lining the walls. He closed his eyes and drew a long breath. He was losing his calm and that couldn’t happen. He was trembling and he needed to stop. His mind was racing. His face and side ached from days against the floor – and his lungs struggled against the bouquet of the chamber.

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• 1.2

There they hid; two alive among a floor littered with the dead.

It was only luck that they had evaded the creature's wrath. When the best was upon them there was nothing that could be done. It moved with such uncanny lethal speed that running or fighting were out of the question. People were falling, screaming and dying by the second. A man begged for his life as the creature dismembered him legs first, keeping him alive long enough to witness the others die.

Within a minute the dead outnumbered the living. Carnage was everywhere and fresh blood washed the already rusty stone. The only hope of survival was to pretend to be dead, so that's what they did.

The fight was mostly sounds and flashes of movement given the darkness of the chamber. When the flames erupted though, they revealed the creature’s butchery of the dead and dying. The plated man counted at least three groups worth of the fallen - their faces frozen in various states of terror. Some bodies older and more rigid than others.

Terrified of being discovered the two were powerless to act – even to move. Helpless among a wash of corpses – their bodies limp, their breathing as shallow as they could make it. Any movement or sound meant alerting the beast, and there's only one way that would end.

For days they pretended to be dead, and as far as they could tell the beast was fooled. The gargantuan goat legged wolf-man roamed the chamber, its breathing heavy and putrid. It stripped the dead of their armor and stacked them into piles. It spent hours rummaging through former belongings, methodically separating valuables from worthless keepsakes and trinkets. It kept anything shiny in a small wooden chest.

What shocked the plated man was the diversity of the dead. Women, children, men and the elderly. Some looked wealthy, some poor. Some looked like warriors, others like common farmers or villagers. There appeared to be no discrimination.

Some were armed, much like himself when he foolishly entered the chamber. Axes, pole arms and swords were left where they had fallen; scattered haphazard on the floor never again to be wielded. From where he was he couldn't see an end to the chamber, to him it seemed to go on forever - like the legends which speak of Hell.

These people truly were damned.

When the smoke from the fire filled the room it obscured much of the carnage, of that they were both grateful. There’s only so long you can stare at certain death before it breaks you.

Somewhere around day two after the fire was lit it began sliding pikes into little grooves in the stone floor. To the plated man’s unshakable horror, one by one it skewered the dead on the poles and began roasting the bodies over the roaring flames.

Both men tried their best not to vomit as the smell of cooking flesh wafted over them.

Then it feasted.

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• 1.3

The boy began shaking.

“It’s a trick. It’s got to be a trick – oh lord, we’re going to die. Die just like the others.”

His voice broke louder than he expected. He tried to speak again but the plated man smothered his mouth with his palm. The man's eyes were wide and desperate - pleading with the boy. The noise echoed only just but it might have been enough. He said a quiet prayer and held his breath; eyes fixed on the massive smoky form. Any moment he knew it would wake. Any moment the slow rhythm of its chest would be interrupted - its eyes would perk up, and it would be awake.

He sunk lower as if to conceal his presence even more. He felt tears well in his eyes – yet he made no sound.

Moments passed.

He muttered another quiet prayer.

Nothing.

The plated man let out a long sigh and felt his heart start beating again. He was the one shaking now. He released the boy's mouth and he sucked in a hard lungful of breath. The man didn't realize it but he was suffocating the boy - but even so, the boy didn't make a sound.

"It HAS to be asleep. Everything sleeps." He regarded the horrified look on the youth's face and silently reprimanded himself.

He softened his tone.

"We have no choice, we have to go. When I say so, you stand. Stay behind me and keep low. Move quickly and die. Make a sound and die. We take our time, got it?"

The youth didn’t blink, in fact he barely nodded. His mind was unravelling and it could be seen on his face.

”When it lit the fire did you see the exit?”

”Yes.” The youth sobbed.

The plated man held a finger to his mouth in a gesture for the youth to remain quiet.

"Which way?” They had fallen beside each other, close enough to whisper. The youth pointed in the direction the creature.

"B-b-behind it.”

A pit fell in the plated man’s stomach. Of course. Damn this place.

They kept perfectly still as they listened to the deep breathing of the creature.

Any moment now. All that was left was to was summon the courage.

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• 1.4

"Now, stand. Do it slowly. Make sure you don’t touch anything."

Slowly and deliberately the plated man rose to a low crouch, the youth followed seconds later. They couldn’t help but take a moment to stretch their limbs. Their bodies were stiff and ached more than they thought possible. The relief of standing and moving was something they wished would never fade – but it did.

The boy made a sound as if he were about to speak but the man cut him off with a swift hand gesture.

The path forward was obscured by smoke. They could only breathe due to a few chimneys in the ceiling which funneled the smoke upwards and out. It didn’t do much good for their sight, or their lungs, as the path was still an obscured obstacle course of dead bodies, discarded armor and weapons.

So many things to trip on. So many things that can make noise. The smoke prevented them from planning a safe route through. Their only option was to proceed carefully and blindly.

With a final exhalation the plated man took his first step. His foot found purchase between an old man and what looked like a broken halberd. He pivoted his weight onto his new footing and took another careful step forward. They navigated their way forward at a glacial pace.

Slowly they moved around and over bodies young and old, some ancient looking. They dared not disturb the dead, as to do so would be to join them. They sidestepped slashed helmets and pierced shields. All the while the beast's silhouette snored through the smoke. None of the weapons looked like they had found the beast - their edges virgin and smooth. Some bore the insignia of past empires that hadn’t been seen in generations.

One such insignia caught the man's eye. The glint of a golden seal poked up through the dust and rags of a truly ancient corpse. Bones and cloth was all that was left - that and a shield. He stopped before a dusty tower shield that looked like it hadn’t been moved in a thousand years. He gestured for the boy to stop, who looked at him with urgent confusion as he knelt to admire an old shield.

The Crest of Hadrianus Such an insignia was said to be lost to the ages, but here it was. Here everything seemed to gather; the past and the present. Had the Labyrinth existed even back then? He knew the answer was important, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind at least until they were safe. That is, if such a thing were viable.

He noted the shield but decided to press onward. They managed a couple of steps before the path became untraversable. A mass of bodied cluttered the path to where no footing could be found. To go forward would mean stepping on the dead, and they aren't very secure footing.

He reached back and stopped the youth and signaled to move left.

Another step forward and his foot slid out from underneath him, the floor too slick with blood. He grunted from the sudden fall and landed hard on the chest of a dead northern looking man. Fresh too. Strange, I don’t remember him. We were the last group to enter but I don’t know this man.

His body looked strong and his features lacked the porcelain touch of death. Was he alive? No, surely not. No one survived the fight. Hell, the plated man was beginning to think he had died.

**”Sir, sir stand up.” The youth was pulling on the plated man’s shoulder.

A low guttural growl came from direction of the beast deep enough to vibrate the floor. Their eyes fixed on the shadow and to their immeasurable horror - it moved, or rather, it rolled.

Silent, unblinking, without breath - the two survivors watched. Like cattle awaiting the slaughter.

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CHAPTER 1 END

I hope you enjoyed. I will try to upload chapter 2 tomorrow - but I feel like I might miss a day or two here or there.

I hope I didn't freak you guys out too much - I have a long history of writing horror stories for my D&D and Warhammer 40k roleplay campaigns.

What do you think?

Take care everyone! Thanks again to @freewritehouse