Mark pushed the door open with his foot, both sai out, one held in defense, the other ready to attack. He had to force himself to breathe. It’s all laughs and giggles until the action gets real. Not sure I like this game anymore.

  “Did you ask Fred if we die here, do we die for real, or is there some sort of respawn?” Mark asked over his shoulder.

  “I tried. He avoided the answer, which to me means—best not test it out. I’d rather not play at all, but sounds like the options for not playing are worse.” Keith answered quietly.

  A fluorescent bulb buzzed and flickered to life, followed by several others, bathing the stone walls of the entry hall in an eerie, pale-blue glow. Mark held his breath, straining to catch any sound, uncertain what whispers or echoes might emerge from the shadows.

  His stage whisper seemed like a scream in the silence. “I only hear us, I think. Not sure what is normal or not here. Skwilly?”

  The priggy’s body shook. “I know nothing about this place, other than I don’t like it.”

  Keith nodded, and Mark followed his gaze to some faded wall art—patches of orange and yellow fabric mixed with bits of copper wire—hanging on the far wall. He knew that art. Now he just had to recall where he’d seen it.

  “This place is giving me a case of deja vu,” Keith mumbled.

  “Got it!” Mark tried to swallow his outburst, but failed. “Why are we at Glennon Hall?”

  “From college?” Keith’s response mixed disbelief in with the question.

  “Almost all my electives were theater related, so I spent a lot of time here. Just took me a few seconds to find the right file cabinet in my memory. Haven’t seen that hideous art for over forty years.”

  Keith let out a short laugh. “Wonder why this setting? What’s on that pedestal?” He pointed to a small column sitting in the middle of the empty lobby.

  “Guess we go look.” Mark headed across the floor, his head rotating, trying to see everything at once. “The north and south wings don’t seem to be where they were—at least the stairs aren’t there.”

  Keith reached the pedestal first, Skwilly right behind him. “Looks like a yellow key. Checking for traps.” Keith examined the key, stand, and pedestal.

  “Take it, or I will.” Mark regretted his tone as soon as it came out of his mouth. He sighed in relief when his friend didn’t notice or at least pretended not to hear. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be so short-tempered.”

  Keith looked up, blinking. “Huh, sorry. I was focusing on finding traps.”

  “Wasn’t nothing much? Find anything?”

  “Looks clear. Ready to find out?” Keith’s hand hovered over the key.

  “Grab it.”

  Both winced when Keith picked the key up. Both stood in silence, looking for something to come their way.

  “Looks like no traps. So, now we go figure out what this fits.” Mark headed toward the single door in the corner where the stairs to the north wing used to be.

  “I think you’re headed in the wrong direction.” Keith called after Mark. “There are three doors over here in the other direction.” He pointed at the doors, each a different primary color. “Let’s go check them out first. Might save us some time.”

  Mark turned around. “Lead the way, and I know I don’t have to say it—but keep your eyes open for traps and stuff.”

  “It’s the stuff I’m worried about.” Keith grinned back at Mark.

  “Well, I think they know we’re here.”

  “Which one of our loud sounds brought you to that conclusion?” Keith’s voice carried the hint of humor that was always present when they bickered.

  The trio walked towards the doors on the far wall.

  Mark pointed to the doors. “So I’m guessing the yellow key for the yellow door. Then we’ll find a blue or red key in the yellow door.”

  “Yep. Or a puzzle where we get a purple key and have to figure out which one to open.”

  Mark made a show of looking around the room. “They’re watching and listening. Don’t be giving them any ideas.”

  “I don’t like the smell here.” Skwilly muttered.

  Both humans looked down at the priggy, but remained silent as they made their way to the door, checking for traps along the way. Not finding anything, Mark carefully unlocked the door.

  “Ready?” Mark checked with Keith, who answered with a nod. Well then, here goes everything.

  He flung the door open, it crashed into a something and wobbled back slowly. Shrugging, Mark pushed the door open with his foot. As the door swung wide, revealing the dimly lit room beyond. The musty smell that wafted towards him hinted at years of neglect. He ventured into the dust-filled room, Keith followed behind.

  “Anti-climatic, so far.”

  “So far, being the operative phrase.” Keith responded.

  They both jumped when the door behind them slammed shut.

  Mark took a few tentative steps into the room, then nodded back at Keith. “I don’t like the silence, or the smell.”

  Keith took a few more steps, coming alongside Mark, then took a deep breath. “Haven’t run into that smell for a few decades.”

  “What is it?” Mark asked.

  “Somebody, or a lot of somebodies, is smoking a lot of weed. Or we’re getting hit with some type of area of effect spell that smells like it.”

  Mark looked back at Keith with a raised eyebrow.

  “It was college and a few years afterward—haven’t inhaled, on purpose, since the eighties. And then there was my little brother. He smoked a lot before he got into the other stuff.” Keith's jaw clenched as he answered.

  “Gotcha. I have this poison purge ability, so I should be g…and here comes a cloud of the stuff.” Mark watched a swirling grey-white smoke billow across the floor. Tendrils rising to knee-level then falling back down. “At least the smoke is staying low, for now.”

  Menacing growls and piercing yips erupted from the shadows, a chilling symphony that clawed at the silence. Fiery red eyes burned through the swirling smoke and oppressive darkness, glaring with a predatory intensity that sent shivers down the spine.

  “It’s a little higher over where those eyes are at.” Keith stepped away from Mark, crouched and ready for an attack. Suddenly, he sprang to his feet, his head whipping around. “Where’s Skwilly? Skwilly!”

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  “Haven’t seen him since we came in the room, now that you mention it.” Mark kept watching the rolling fog and the ominous red eyes.

  Keith’s head swiveled again. “He didn’t answer. I don’t see him and don’t remember him being with us in the room. Hopefully, he’s on the other side of that door.”

  “Or he’s hiding—he just needs to stay put if he’s here.” Mark took a step forward, his eyes scanning the room. Don’t think, let the body just do. Well, think too, just don’t get in your way—kinda like you’re doing now. Mark sucked in some air between his teeth and rolled his shoulders to get ready.

  With a deafening explosion of shouts, a swarm of grey-black, rodent-like creatures hurled themselves forward, their elongated, pointed muzzles spewing thick smoke into the air. The room erupted into a frenzy of scuffling feet and the high-pitched, frantic squeals of the attackers. In mere seconds, they closed in, their razor-sharp claws slashing out viciously.

  Mark felt adrenaline flood his veins, as he instinctively flung his arms up, ready to counter the ferocious onslaught. His sai intercepted the blows with precision, and he stood firm, absorbing the violent first wave without a scratch. A fleeting thought about how Keith was holding up flickered in his mind, but the chaos left no room to check on his friend.

  The initial mad dash dissolved into a brutal, chaotic melee. Mark lunged forward with fierce determination, feeling his blade pierce through something with a satisfying resistance. A grim, triumphant smile spread across his face as a piercing scream echoed in response to his strike.

  <>

  Don’t flash the notices, only verbal during a fight, minimize all non-critical notifications.

  <>

  Thank you.

  Mark swung his weapon with a ferocity that bordered on madness, each strike accompanied by the satisfying, high-pitched squeals of his enemies. Two creatures lay motionless, their bodies stilled from his relentless assault. But the third proved harder to hit, darting and weaving, evading each of Mark's furious blows. It sidestepped to the right, narrowly avoiding a violent strike. Mark lunged forward with a primal roar, only to feel a searing pain as sharp teeth pierced his forearm. His skin burned as the creature's jaws clamped down, then released, leaving him with a raw, throbbing wound.

  <>

  “It may be too late, but their bite can slow you down if you’re not immune.” Mark called out to Keith.

  “Not…been.” Keith grunted twice. “Bit…yet.”

  Mark's heart pounded as he searched desperately for any sign of his friend, but the chaos and thickening smoke made it impossible. His mind spun, knowing he had to keep his focus on the attackers. The relentless attacks forced him back until his spine hit the cold, unyielding wall. Out of nowhere, a blood-smeared muzzle lunged at him with ferocious speed. Reflexes kicked in, and he ducked, driving his sai upward with all his might, feeling it pierce deep into the creature. A shrill scream tore through the air before devolving into a sickening gurgle as the beast went limp. Its massive weight crashed down on Mark, pinning him to the ground. Panic surged as he struggled against the suffocating, dead weight. Every muscle strained as he fought to free himself, and then, cutting through the chaos, he heard Keith's labored, struggling breaths.

  “Keith? Talk to me. You okay?”

  Mark heard his friend grunt a few more times. His imagination filled in gaps and painted a horrific scene in his head. “Keith?”

  “Alive.” Keith panted out.

  Finally, free of the dead creature, Mark stood up and looked frantically for his friend. It only took a couple of seconds to see the two creatures attacking Keith. Mark leapt on the back of the nearest, his sai sinking into its fur-covered neck. The creature dropped to the floor, dead, with Mark on its back. He scrambled back to his feet in time to see Keith slash the remaining creature’s neck. It fell next to the one Mark had just killed.

  He spun around, trying to determine if any others hid in the shadows. When he didn’t see or hear anything, he huffed out a deep sigh. “You take any damage?”

  Hands on knees, Keith sucked in as much oxygen as possible. “I need to work on my fighting skills and my endurance. No, nothing significant. One gash along my upper arm, bleeding good, but not deep enough to do major damage. A few cuts and scratches. I only had to deal with one or two at a time, and this body seemed to know how to defend itself. You?”

  Mark shook his head. “One bite wound, but it didn’t hurt too badly after a few seconds and seemed to be a quick bite trying to pass along that slow down thing. I told Sandy to go verbal only during a fight—she nearly blinded me with a notification.”

  “I wonder if that set it for both of us. I see notifications for me at the bottom of my…um…vision? But I got nothing verbal or visual during the fight.” Keith shrugged. “Do you see anything that looks like a key?”

  “Oh yeah, forgot about that part.” The dissipating smoke made it easier to scan the room. A faint magenta square outline glowed on the wall where the creatures came from. “Over there.” Mark pointed with his chin.

  “What’s over there?” Keith asked.

  “The pinkish light. Could be our key.”

  “What light?”

  Mark looked at the glow, then back at Keith, then he pointed with his finger. “You can’t see a magenta glowing square on that wall. It is faint, but it’s also totally obvious.”

  “Don’t see a thing.”

  <