3 Chapter 3: The Enemy Within (2/2)

Both of the men seemed unnerved as they began walking the road again. Wincing each time broken glass crunched beneath their boots. Each of them trying to ignore the murder of crows feasting on the dead that littered the roadside in a gruesome parody of slaughter. Most had been victims of the monsters unleashed by the dungeon to rampage, while others had been killed through the negligence and malice of other people.

The contrast was unnerving. Just a few days earlier, it would have been an oddity to see what had been one of the busiest of highways in the world shut down. The streets choked full of abandoned and damaged cars on both sides of the road, utterly dead across all 8 lanes.

As Pat carried the unconscious boy in his arms, he noticed that the kid began tossing and turning, struggling against whatever nightmare was plaguing him. His skin appeared pale and blotched from fever. As Pat surveyed the nightmarish hellscape around him and the blood that dyed the road in red blotches, he couldn't help but draw the conclusion in his thoughts. Why wouldn't the kid have nightmares? Even more so, Pat was reminded of the state that he had found the boy in. Remembering the shredded body of the man the boy had been trapped under, the boy's father. ”What a damn pity. I'm glad my kids didn't have to see me go out like that,” He thought. Pat had a pretty good idea of what the kid's nightmares entailed.

Dale circled back to check on Pat and make sure he wasn't lagging too far behind. Shaking his head in disapproval as he saw Pat still carrying the cradled form of the unconscious boy. But Pat ignored it. A little compassion was the least that he could do, considering what awaited the boy where they were going. It was still a more compassionate fate than to be left on the streets to starve or wait for death.

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The two men and the dying boy pressed forward, being careful as the roads grew more congested. Even with his blessing, neither of the men felt confident in their safety. They weaved methodologically in and out of the abandoned vehicles. Trying as they could to avoid getting too close to the cars or parts of the road that showed signs of damage. Avoiding also dead bodies and pools of blood. The two men learned what many among their numbers had learned the hard way. Monsters didn't just roam these roads; they nested here.

They had a rule. A rule that the two of them had developed for out of necessity for survival. To generally avoid drawing close to signs of damage, dead bodies, or blood. Though like with the boy, exceptions happened. The pair was anxiously avoiding bringing attention to themselves. Though they saw no immediate signs of the monsters nearby, that didn't mean they were safe, and both of the two men acted accordingly. With utmost caution.

The duo had come across many firsts since becoming stranded on the highway, as so many others had. Following the emergence of the giant stone gateway, that was the entrance of the World Dungeon. The portal to the other world rising up into the air amidst the outlet ruins. With the appearance of the entrance to the World Dungeon, so too had the monsters appeared. A calamity on the race of men.

But another mystery existed. They had been introduced to the humanlike yet alien beings that called themselves elves. Neither Pat or Dale had known each other before but had quickly taken to each other. They shared a common value. Both had tried to fight off the monsters attacking their families rather than cry and deny what was happening. Near-death, the elves had interceded and offered their protection in exchange for service and sacrifice. Neither Pal nor Dale liked the arrangement but knew they had no other choice but to carry their water. Each of them knew they had no other options. Both had families who had been trapped on the road and saved by the arrangement.

Pat shuddered at the memory of the previous few days, pushing the memories from his thoughts. At least he tried to. Images flashing across his vision as the memories forced themselves up, superimposing on his consciousness as the worst moment of his life replayed itself. The memory of fear as the black-furred monsters, the Hellhounds as they were called by the elves, tore into the metal of his vehicle with long yellowed claws, tearing through it like paper. The feeling of hopelessness as he kicked and hit and stabbed the monster to no effect. The memory of his youngest daughter crying in fear. Her frantic, desperate begging that he do something, begging because she didn't want to die, and the memory of his wife holding their son as she prayed.

That was the lowest point of my life. Pat thought, even as he carried the unconscious boy in his arms to his doom. Of course, I was going to say yes when I was asked. Even a slave knows life is better than the alternative. Resentment and anger welled up inside of him towards the elves. He thought of the fair-skinned elf who had tapped on the window during the attack. A gloating and demeaning smile on his face. Offering to save them all, Pat's whole family, but only if Pat agreed to serve him. No questions were to be asked, no refusals, only assistance, and deliverance. Pat knew Dale was in the same position even if they never spoke about it; why would they? It didn't help their situation at all to talk about it. It only made the guilt worse.

For a short while, there had been a third man among them. A third who had balked when the elf had revealed what the debt owed would entail. A third who had tried to go back on the deal once the terms were known and payment was expected on what was owed. What Pat remembered the most was the way the elf smiled with genuine joy when the man explained why he just couldn't go through with it.

The man's screams had lasted for hours, what became of him, Pat had no idea. But as for the man's family, their entrails and lifeless heads decorated the stone ledges of the World Dungeon entrance. The gruesome trophies served as a dire reminder of the capricious nature of the ones Pat and Dale now served. While the guilt sat heavy with him, he consoled himself that at least his family was alive.

Lost in his thoughts, Pat almost didn't see when Dale raised his fist to stop and be quiet. He could only hope the boy didn't start crying or screaming in his sleep. The blessing the elf had bestowed on them was powerful but not perfect. They both watched with wide eyes as a new monster walked past them. The beast stood up on his hind legs. It's a body covered in grey and mangy fur with eyes full of malice and insanity. Its head was that of a wolf, a Lycan. It glanced at them in hunger, baring its fangs. Neither man moved as its attention abruptly shifted, landing on all four paws and sniffed the ground before running off into the distance. When they could no longer see or hear it, the two shaking and anxious men began walking again, almost to their destination.