Oh Hunter My Hunter

Amias had been in this maze for a while, wandering through endless corridors of mirrors that forced him to see himself over and over. He was now, covered in blood; the sight was unbearable. He had begun to have a hatred for his reflection, and it grew worse with every sight. The only silver lining was he had food, thanks to that wolf god bless its soul. Even if it was raw and the taste wasn't great, he forced himself to eat it. He didn't know when he'd get another chance. He was freezing, and it didn't help that night had fallen or at least, that's what he assumed. Who knew in this tree? The darkness was suffocating; his vision barely adjusted. His hands traced the walls to guide him, and the slick floor beneath his feet made every step difficult. Still, he had his spear. At least he had that.

He hummed softly to himself for comfort, but his tune cut off when his foot splashed into water. Confusion had struck him, then frustration as his shoes soaked through.

Why is there water? I'm on a higher floor, right?, he thought while looking at his shoes but it was too dark to see clearly.

The thought sent a chill down his spine. Does each floor get progressively more difficult?, he thought, unsure. Then, the smell hit him: a nauseating stench of rotting flesh and rusted metal. His stomach churned. He waded forward cautiously, feeling something was deeply wrong, though he couldn't see what.

Then, he saw it.

A shape in the darkness. Bigger than the wolf. Bigger than anything he wanted to deal with. He didn't know where it started or ended, only that it occupied itself doing something at the moment. He took a careful step back. The dread that gripped him was unlike anything he had felt before. The wolf had been terrifying, but this? This felt wrong, like he was standing in the presence of something that shouldn't exist. He wanted to run. Every instinct screamed at him to run.

But then the reverberation through the water alerted it, making it turn slowly, revealing those eyes that resembled static.

It was blacker than the darkness itself, shifting and amorphous. As it crept closer, its form twisted and reshaped as though reality had struggled to contain it. Then, those eyes of its, buzzing with an unnatural energy, locked onto him. It was like staring into something that shouldn't have existed.

Then it began to compress and reshape, mimicking him.

His own very silhouette, distorted and shifting, but undeniably him. As if it was playing a game with him.

Amias didn't breathe. He didn't dare move. He didn't trust it.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. He wasn't sure anymore. The cold seeped into his bones, his blood-soaked clothes making it worse. His feet ached from standing in the freezing water. And yet, the creature only stood there, observing him with eerie, childlike curiosity. He wanted to believe that maybe it was harmless, but the dread in his gut told him otherwise.

Then, the light changed.

It was Sunrise and he could see more clearly.

He was standing in pools of blood.

Corpses surrounded him. Some long dead, others fresh. Bodies torn apart, minced into unrecognizable pieces. The ground was littered with limbs, entrails, chunks of flesh. If he had moved forward, he would have stepped on them. The sight made him want to gag.

This was just his peripheral vision. He couldn't even fully take it in.

He had been standing in this. The entire time.

His focus snapped back to the creature. He could barely hold his gaze but he had to be still. Fear consumed him.

Then finally, as the first rays of light spilled through the cracks in the maze, the shadow recoiled. It didn't disappear entirely, but it shrank, retreating into the lingering darkness. Relief crashed into Amias. It couldn't stay in the light. He was safe.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed against the wall, panting heavily. He dropped his spear, his hands trembling. Only now is the fact he could take in what surrounded him.

Bodies upon bodies.

The water was blood. He had been standing in it all night, surrounded by corpses in various states of decay. Some fresh, others torn apart beyond recognition. He wanted to scream but only managed a strangled gasp. The smell, the sight. All of it was too much. He clamped a hand over his mouth as bile rose in his throat.

His gaze landed on a severed jaw lying near the surface, still connected to the back of a skull, brain matter oozing out. That was the final straw and he vomited.

Gagging, he stumbled backward, only to slip and fall into the blood. His hands splashed into something soft; it was flesh and he was face to face with a corpse. He scrambled, trying to get up, but the slick surface made him fall again and again. His breathing was erratic; his vision was blurred with tears and panic. Eventually, he gave up and just sat there, shaking, staring blankly at the carnage around him.

'This can't be real…'

He repeated the thought over and over, laughing weakly between ragged breaths. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.

'Right? Surely… this is just a dream…'

He wanted to believe it. Needed to believe it. But he knew better. He had been foolishly arrogant, even. Killing one wolf had made him feel strong, made him think he could handle this place. But this? This was beyond him. His luck wouldn't last forever.

And then in the ripple of blood appeared a shadow.

Amias froze. His eyes widened as, ahead of him, the black mass began to rise from the crimson pool. It had never left. It had only been watching. Waiting this whole time.

The static in its eyes flickered like laughter. Then, as its mouth stretched unnaturally into a grin, he understood.

"You were playing with me, weren't you…"

His voice barely above a whisper.

The shadow didn't respond. It only grinned wider, the static in its eyes crackling in amusement as though it was laughing.

It had lulled him into believing he was safe but it was all a trick.

And now, the real game had begun for him.