So I'm a Bat, Big Deal

I glared at that damn blue portal, my frustration boiling over. Great, just great—I'm a bat again, and it looks like I'm stuck like this for who knows how long!

[You were never not a bat, you were just pretending not to be a bat and poorly I may add.]

"Yes, thank you for your observation, now kindly get out of my head."

[Imagine if I could just unplug myself from your brain—what a delightful escape that would be! But here we are, stuck together. Even death won't necessarily free you from my grasp; I could always bring you back if I find it amusing. But let's be real, the odds of that happening are slim. I'm not exactly the nostalgic type, and you're hardly worth remembering. Your ID user number is 6042174513.] 

"Great, thanks for that fun factoid."

[Stop dragging your feet and get your sorry self into that dungeon. Staring at the entrance won't turn it into a vacation spot.]

"Seriously, can't you dig up something a bit easier? What kind of twisted nightmare was that second level? What even is the grade level of this dungeon?"

[If it were a piece of cake to be a Dark Lord, the streets would be crawling with pathetic little overlords.]

"There's no way that's right!"

[Stop wasting time! Get in there, you procrastinator!]

A strange sensation enveloped me, a sense of detachment from my own body, as if I were merely an observer in my own life. My body moved of its own accord, my wings instinctively flapping, guiding me through a shimmering portal. Suddenly, I found myself in a vast chamber constructed of gray stone, the interior of a grand castle. The ceilings soared high above, adorned with flickering sconces that cast a warm glow against the walls, while thick stained-glass windows depicted gruesome scenes of battle. The air was cool and slightly damp, and an eerie silence hung in the atmosphere as if the world itself was pausing in anticipation.

I glided toward a bright light at the far end of the room, discovering a massive fireplace ablaze with a roaring fire. Seeking warmth and a moment to gather my thoughts, I settled into one of the chairs positioned before the hearth. As I relaxed and felt a sense of peace wash over me, I was abruptly jolted awake by a piercing scream echoing in my mind.

[Help! Master help! I'm being taken away! I think they want to eat me!] 

I awoke to find a peculiar little creature with brown fur, patches missing, and a grotesque, decayed face gripping Biter's stem in its mouth. A zombie squirrel! Who would have thought such a thing existed? It emitted a series of erratic chattering noises before leaping off the chair in an instant, scurrying around the corner and bounding up a set of intricately carved wooden stairs to the second floor. It moved with surprising speed—aren't zombies supposed to be sluggish?

"Hey, come back with my plant!" I shouted, flying after the squirrel that seemed to have an unfair advantage in speed. As it darted away, little clumps of its fur floated to the ground, accompanied by mysterious dark goo that I was too squeamish to examine closely. 

The stench of decaying flesh hit me like a freight train, and I nearly lost my lunch right there. It was suffocating, a hot wave that burned my eyes and invaded my nostrils. I collapsed onto the ground, landing in a disgusting heap of fur and muck. The odor was unbearable! My head spun, and I staggered forward, desperate for the nightmare to end. Why did bat senses have to be so ridiculously acute?

I pushed ahead, having lost track of that squirrel, too disoriented to take to the skies just yet. I flapped my wings, ascending one step at a time until I reached a landing at the top. Before me stretched a long, shadowy hallway, so deep and dark that the end was swallowed by the gloom. Massive, dark brown doors lined both sides, looming like sentinels. I strained to listen, hoping to catch a hint of where Biter had been taken.

A faint clanging echoed, guiding me to a door halfway down the corridor. As I neared, a round light above the door shifted from red to green and swung open as if beckoning me inside. I paused, catching the sound of movement from within, then darted in, soaring up to the ceiling to scan for threats and search for the squirrel. Suddenly, I heard a soft click behind me. I whipped around, only to find the door had closed and locked itself, trapping me inside.

Inside the room there was a stale and acrid scent. it was a long room more narrow than the expansive room downstairs. made of gray blocks like all the rooms on this level. I realized that I was standing on chains and manacles bolted to the walls and there were dark stains and little puddles on the floor below. 

I attempted once more to retrace my steps, but it was futile. I flew close to the ceiling, desperate to remain unseen by whatever monstrosity lurked in the shadows. As I glided through the dim space, my eyes fell upon a row of cages lining the wall. At a long stone counter stood a grotesque creature, a nightmarish pig-like beast standing on two legs, its flesh marred with gaping wounds. It was a rotting orc, a zombie orc, its skin a sickly olive green and gray. In its hand, it wielded a massive cleaver, methodically slicing through meat.

To the side, a large woven basket held a lined sack, and inside were dentures—teeth that unmistakably belonged to a human. There were also nails meticulously painted and filed, a twisted mockery of beauty. My gaze shifted back to the meat, and my stomach churned as I recognized a human body part. Horror washed over me as I watched the orc chop. I looked upon the orc revealing a face with exposed muscle, one eye missing while the other glowed a sinister red. One of its ears was gone, a grotesque sight.

Behind the orc, the cages were nearly barren, remnants of splattered flesh and blood littering the floor. But one cage held a young elf girl, no more than ten, quietly sobbing as she hid her face in her hands, trembling. Her white-blonde hair was matted with blood, and she wore tattered rags, her arms and legs marked with cuts. The orc hummed a chilling tune as he continued his gruesome work. Above, more cages dangled from the ceiling, and the pitiful whines of smaller creatures echoed in the air. One cage contained a tiny three-tailed fox, its light blue and white fur the softest I had ever seen, but the orc's bloody work continued to splatter across its delicate coat.

Coming Next Time: Desperate Rescue