Sovereign of the Forsaken Path

Regret.

Ezra was intimately familiar with it.

He had regretted taking that "one last job" in his past life the one that had gotten him killed. He had regretted touching that damn book just moments ago. And now, he was pretty sure he was about to regret stepping through the iron door of a crypt that was clearly not meant to be opened.

But hey, at least he was consistent.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the heavy door slammed shut behind him, sealing him in.

"Of course," Ezra muttered under his breath. "Because why would there be an exit sign in a haunted dungeon?"

He lifted his lantern, the dim blue flame casting eerie shadows against towering stone pillars that loomed in the suffocating darkness. The air was thicker here, heavier, like something was watching.

A faint click echoed in the distance.

Ezra froze.

It was the kind of sound that only meant one thing.

A trap.

"…You've got to be kidding me."

Before he could even take a step, the floor beneath him vanished.

Gravity wasted no time betraying him.

Ezra plunged downward, the lantern flickering wildly as he tumbled through the abyss. Cold wind rushed past him, the scent of decay thickening as he fell deeper and deeper.

How deep was this place?!

His brain barely had time to register the question before the answer arrived in the form of a very solid stone floor.

THUD.

Ezra landed face-first with all the grace of a drunk pigeon. Pain shot through his ribs, and his first thought was: I have definitely broken something.

His second thought was: This body is weaker than I remember.

Groaning, he rolled onto his back, staring up at the gaping hole above him. His lantern had miraculously survived the fall, the flame flickering beside him like a judgmental witness to his stupidity.

"You could've warned me," he muttered at the flame. It flickered, unimpressed.

With a grunt, Ezra pushed himself upright, rubbing the back of his head. Where the hell had he landed?

The chamber was vast a massive underground hall, lined with rows of coffins, each one chained shut with thick iron bindings.

A good sign, really. Meant whatever was inside wasn't supposed to come out.

…Which only made him more concerned about why he was now standing here.

Ezra exhaled, shaking off the ache in his limbs as he grabbed his lantern. "Right. Let's find a way out before something decides to crawl out of one of these."

As if the universe heard him

A coffin creaked.

Ezra froze.

Silence.

He slowly turned his head toward the sound, his grip tightening around the lantern's handle.

One of the coffins in the center of the hall had shifted slightly.

Another creak.

And then

The chains snapped open.

Ezra inhaled sharply. "Oh, come on."

The coffin lid lurched violently, slamming against the stone floor with a deafening CRASH.

From within the depths of the casket, something moved.

A pale, gaunt hand rose from the darkness, fingers twitching. Then another. And another.

Three arms.

"…Oh, fantastic. A discount Eldritch nightmare. Just what I needed today."

Then, the thing crawled out.

It was humanoid, but just barely. Its skin was pale gray, stretched tight over its elongated body, and where its face should have been, there was only a gaping hole lined with rows of jagged teeth.

It turned toward Ezra.

A guttural, hungry noise rumbled from its chest.

Ezra let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"You ever have one of those days where you wake up in a prison, get chased by a faceless ghost, fall into a crypt, and then get stared down by something that looks like a rejected horror movie prop?"

The creature twitched.

Ezra took a slow step backward.

"Yeah. Me neither."

Then it lunged.