I opened my eyes; I was alive. Mind-numbing pain radiated from my lower back and right shoulder, and I felt blood oozing from various wounds. The moment I lost consciousness, my head continued to bleed. How am I alive? I looked around, trying to comprehend where the monster had taken me. I was in a cave—no, a system of caves—with walls adorned with glowing stones. It was dark, but there was enough light to see something. Is this the worm's lair? If it is, then I'll be a snack after a hard battle. I thought as I walked toward a massive crack on the other side of the cave. I squeezed through the crack, and when I finally emerged on the other side, my mind was blown away.
The cave was vast, illuminated by crystals that cast a soft glow throughout the area. Sand and crystals were embedded in the walls, creating a surreal landscape. However, it wasn't the impressive cave or the shimmering crystals that captured my attention; it was the massive stone structure at its center. This temple-like building had no windows, was supported by six towering pillars that held up the roof, and featured a large stone door in the middle.
As I approached the stone temple, I carefully climbed the stairs, which were partially covered in sand. I'm no expert on temples, but even I could tell that entering was likely a disastrous idea. Yet I was faced with a grim choice: be devoured by a worm or bleed out, or risk going into the temple and potentially bleed out. But I wasn't ready to die. I refused to give up. It wasn't fair that Richard roamed free while Sam and Sarah lay dead in the sand. Anger surged within me as I grasped the door handle and stepped inside.
The temple appeared ransacked, constructed entirely of stone with only a few crystals illuminating the space. It resembled a haunted house more than a temple. A strong urge overcame me, warning me to turn back and flee. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and cold sweat began to trickle down my forehead and cheeks. I knew I shouldn't be here. I spun around and lunged toward the door. Before my eyes, the door slammed shut with a thud, accompanied by the sound of sand cascading from the ceiling. When I reached the spot where the door had been, I realized it lacked any handles on the inside; it had transformed into yet another stone wall.
Combing around the stone wall that used to be a door, I heard a deep voice. "Who are you?" I turned around slowly, unsure if I wanted to face whoever was speaking. When I finally turned in that direction, I saw a man sitting on the stairs. I could only see his silhouette; it was too dark to make out any details. In an instant, he appeared before me, and I staggered backward against the shut door, gazing intently at him. His long black hair reached past his shoulders. "You should not be here," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, his gaze fixed on me.
"Worm, the worm dragged me here," I muttered. He began to walk toward the stairs, moving away from me. I attempted to open the door once more, but it remained tightly sealed. "Well, now we are both trapped in here; I guess I can show you your new home," he said, continuing his walk. Is it truly advisable for me to accompany this unfamiliar person? It felt wrong, but what was the worst that could happen? I was going to die anyway from my injuries. A sliver of hope flickered in my mind—maybe he could help me or knew a way out. I started to follow him up the stairs to the second floor.
With each step, I felt the pain reignite throughout my body, my back threatening to give in under the strain. Blood dripped onto the stairs, and each new step felt ten times harder than the last. When we reached the second floor, I saw a huge stone table adorned with ancient markings. The room resembled an old meeting place, perhaps where generals once gathered to discuss war plans. We sat down opposite each other, and I found myself unable to look away from him. How could someone survive in a place like this?
"Who are you? What is this place?" I asked. "I am part of the history—history that you or your world have no idea about," he replied with a smile" "You are not the first to come here. A few blessed ones have met their end in this place, searching for treasures or whatever people hope to find in the desert." It seemed obvious that someone trapped here without food would face a terrible fate—or perhaps he killed them. How was he still alive? Did… did he eat them? As fear gripped me, I imagined ending up in the belly of a madman in a stone temple underground. He looked at me, and I sensed that he could read me like a book, his eyes piercing my soul.
"But you are not a blessed one, are you?" he asked, a sharp smile spreading across his face once again. Blessed one? Did he mean hunters? Who refers to them as blessed ones? Who is this madman ?
"Do you mean hunters?" I asked, my face reflecting my confusion. "Blessed ones, hunters, people with godlike powers who act like they run the world—regardless of the part of the universe or the time. They're always on top, behaving like the very monsters they hunt," he explained, scratching his beard as he locked eyes with me. When he mentioned their dominance, my thoughts were consumed by Richard's cold-blooded killing of Sam, my closest and only friend. Anger surged within me, pushing aside the pain I was experiencing. "But I guess you already know about it. I can feel the anger inside you, my lost little friend." He stood up and walked toward me. "I can feel the life slowly leaving your body; you don't have much time, Simon." What? I hadn't revealed my name, had I? As I opened my mouth to ask how he knew me and who he was, the stool beneath me suddenly tilted to the left. A few feet away, he stood, pulling out a chair from under the table and sitting close to me. I hadn't even noticed his movement; he seemed to appear out of thin air, or perhaps his speed was simply too great for me to register. "What if I told you that my prison here doesn't have to be your grave? There is still a way out for you." Hope flooded my body at his words. I was willing to do anything at this point; whatever the cost, it was worth it for Sam's sake. "You can be strong, strong enough to satisfy your desire for revenge." A dark blue dagger with a black handle and ancient runes on the blade materialized in his hand. "All you have to do is take this dagger and kill me, my friend." He placed the dagger in my hand and helped me grip it, as I lacked the strength to do so myself. "Aren't I just going to be stuck here anyway? What will happen to me if I kill you?" I asked, confused. "This place," he said, glancing around, "is meant to keep me here, just me. As long as I am alive, this place will exist. Luckily for us, you don't have powers." He smiled again. "What will happen is simple." He guided my hand, dagger in grip, close to his heart. "You will become me," he declared before plunging the dagger into his chest. I didn't have time to react or say anything; it all happened too quickly. As his body crumpled to the ground, I watched it vanish, and the dagger began to glow. I wanted to drop it, but it felt as if it were glued to my hand. My hand went numb, pierced by pain like a thousand needles trying to escape my body. I collapsed to the ground, the pain more intense than I could have imagined. My vision blurred, and eventually, I succumbed. Again.