Solo in Dungeon

Chapter 6 - The Book

But then, an odd sound came from the door. It was subtle at first—a faint, grinding noise that barely registered above the labored breathing of the hunters. The two statues flanking the entrance began to move, their stone limbs creaking with the sound of ancient mechanisms long dormant. Slowly, they shifted their massive swords out of the way, clearing the path as if to grant passage to the hunters.

For a brief moment, hope flickered in the hearts of the survivors. After all they had endured, could this be the end? Had they finally passed every test?

"Did we pass the test already?" one of them asked, their voice trembling with cautious hope. The question hung in the air, a fragile whisper in the oppressive silence of the chamber.

"Can we go out right now?" another chimed in, the relief in their voice almost palpable. It was a thought too good to be true, but after all they had been through, they were desperate to believe it.

But as the hunters began to relax, the sound of creaking and rumbling filled the chamber once more. The door, which had seemed to offer salvation, began to slowly close. The hunters' heads snapped back towards it, dread replacing the fleeting hope in their eyes. The statues, once seemingly benign, began to move again—this time with a menacing purpose. Their weapons, which had been lowered to clear the path, were now raised once more, aimed directly at the hunters.

THUD!

The heavy footsteps of the statues echoed in the chamber, each step a reminder of the grim reality they faced.

"What is the meaning of this?" one of the hunters shouted, their voice filled with disbelief and mounting panic. "Didn't we pass the test?"

The words were a desperate plea, a refusal to accept the cruel twist of fate that now confronted them.

Jarred, who had been silently observing the unfolding events, felt a chill run down his spine. His mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle that had been laid before them. The flames, the altar, the tests—everything had led to this moment, but something was missing. There had to be a final piece, a final demand from the dark forces that had designed this chamber.

"This is the altar," Jarred muttered, his voice tinged with dread. The others turned to him, sensing the gravity of what he was about to say. His face was pale, his expression one of resignation as the horrible truth settled over him like a shroud.

"We have to sacrifice someone in order to survive, right?" Joe was the first to voice the awful realization that had dawned on them all. His voice was steady, but the words carried a weight that made them all shudder. The unspoken truth had finally been brought to light, and there was no escaping it now.

Jarred nodded slowly, confirming the terrible truth. One of the five survivors had to be offered as a sacrifice. It was the only way the door would remain open, the only way the others could escape this hellish chamber.

The expressions on the hunters' faces were a mix of horror and disbelief. They had fought so hard to survive, only to be faced with this impossible choice. It wasn't just a test of their strength or their resolve—it was a test of their humanity, their very souls.

"So, who will be the sacrifice?" someone whispered, the question hanging heavily in the air. It was a question no one wanted to answer, but it was a question that demanded an answer nonetheless.

"I-isn't it clear enough that Mr. Joe w-will be the one w-who will be the s-sacrifice?" Mike stammered, his voice filled with a desperate, false bravado. He pointed a trembling finger at Joe, his eyes wide with fear.

The others stared at him in disdain. Mike's cowardice was palpable, and his words only served to deepen the growing divide among them. In this moment of crisis, the bonds that had held them together were beginning to fray.